The sun had reached its peak by the time Willow landed. She set Trick on his feet and stretched her aching muscles. "That was further than I thought," she groaned, rubbing her shoulders. "I think I strained a wing or something."

Trick smiled briefly. "Rest a while, and then we'll go on." His voice was gravelly.

Willow sat down with a grateful sigh and dug out some dried meat, chewing it thoughtfully. She took another look at the map.

"If we continue through the Oxeye Meadows," she gestured to the grassy, flower-dotted expanse around them, "Then we should reach the Greater Rift in a couple of days."

Trick merely grunted.

Willow sighed and thought about home. They only had to cross the Greater Rift by means of a stout bridge, which was heavily guarded by faery and elf guards from the Forest. They would let her through readily after some questioning, but she would have to persuade them to let through Trick. Although there were elves in the Forest, they were forest elves, not as violent as their fiery counterparts, and so distrusted them as a rule. They wouldn't let in even a friendly one.

Trick sighed and looked around him. He looked at the soft grasses peppered with poppies, red valerian and oxeye daisies without really seeing any of it.

"It's going to rain," Willow commented quietly, looking at the sky. Black clouds were swirling overhead like flocks of crows; it grew dark, yet everything seemed to stand out starkly.

"I can't cope with this." Trick sank to the ground as fat droplets fell softly around him.

"That's just stupid," Willow said, creating a giant leaf. "There, you're fine."

"This is pointless," Trick growled as thunder cracked above. "We're the tallest things here, we'll get struck by lightning."

Willow crouched down until the waving grasses towered above her, and crawled along slowly.

"We're never going to get to the other side if we do that," Trick objected as he cast the leaf down beside her.

"Stop being so bloody pessimistic!" Willow cried furiously as she stood to face him. "The Meadows are only about a league long, we'll get to the other side in a couple of hours!"

As she said this, the map fell from her belt and fluttered gently to the ground at Trick's feet. He bent to pick it up.

Suddenly there was a rumble, a crack and a scream, followed by the heavy thump of something hitting the ground hard.

Trick shoved the map under his belt and cast wildly about for Willow, screaming her name. The flash of the lightning was still imprinted on his retinas and he found it hard to see. All the same, he began to run in a large circle until he came to a flattened patch of grass. She was there.

"Willow." Trick started forward, but stopped dead as he looked at her more closely.

The thorns that had once encircled her wrists were now encasing her entire body in a protective shell. They were undamaged, even though they had taken the brunt of her fall.

Trick ran to the faery and dropped down, reaching out a hand. The thorns withdrew from his touch without leaving so much as a mark on her body.

The elf gasped. The thorns had saved her from the fall, but they hadn't saved her from the strike. An enormous burn on her right arm gaped at him where the lightning had entered her body, with another on her opposite leg where it had left. Her skin was blackened in various places and a tree-like mark covered her entire back, where her dress had been singed and shredded.

There was no pulse.

Trick slumped over her, tears falling onto her sooty skin. The elf had never felt so lost in his life, so consumed by grief and pain.

"Why must I lose everyone I love?" he howled. The thunder gave a rumbling laugh in return.

Willow groaned.

Trick was alert in an instant. "Willow?" he said hesitantly but she wouldn't wake.

"You're alive..."

Trick scooped the faery up and started to run.

***

Indriel was waiting for her.

"At last! I thought you would never come!" the queen cried. "I bring terrible news, but I think you should sit down first." She gestured to a stone seat and Willow realised that they were in the palace gardens, one of her favourite places in the Forest.

"What is it?" the young faery asked with a feeling of foreboding.

Indriel looked grave. "You may know by now that this is the spirit world... And I think that you should meet again our most recent addition."

A tall, handsome but ageing man appeared. He scooped Willow up in a fond hug and stood back to look at her.

"Father," she gasped.

The man smiled, his blue eyes crinkling at the corners. "My daughter..."

"What has happened, father?" Willow cried, clutching his hand as if she were a young child again.

"I have been poisoned," he said sadly. "And your mother must rule alone." He truly looked heartbroken and suddenly the vibrant forest around them seemed to grow dim and silent.

"Who did this?" Willow asked fiercely. How dare someone poison her father!

"I do not know," he replied. "But it must have been an inside operation - no one can break through the castle's defences."

Indriel opened her mouth to say something just as a searing pain suddenly shot through Willow and she groaned. Her father turned an anxious gaze upon her but she waved it away with a strained smile. "I'm okay, just a brief pain." But the world began to grow slightly blurry.

"You are getting close to consciousness again," Indriel explained nonchalantly. "And your elf friend is looking hopeful, I must say." She gave a light laugh.

"Is he okay?" Willow asked in a shaky voice. "I only remember a blinding flash."

"He's perfectly fine. In fact, right now he's running towards the bridge, carrying you. You're almost there."

Willow was touched and couldn't stop a small smile from making its way onto her face.

Her father looked at her closely. "Who is this... Elf friend?" he asked suspiciously. "Is he a lover?"

A light blush stained Willow's cheeks. "N-no, nothing like that!" she stammered. "I'll tell you everything the next time I'm asleep." The world was definitely fading now and she struggled to cling on.

"Farewell, Willow," Indriel said as she and the King embraced the young faery. "Until next time... And look after that elf of yours! You've affected him more than you may think."

***

Trick felt as if his heart would burst. He had been running for what felt like hours, and he was almost at the edge of the Oxeye Meadows.

Stop, his brain told him wearily. You have to stop or you'll collapse.

Trick shook his head and willed himself to keep going, but he stumbled and almost fell. In his arms, Willow stirred and blinked.

The elf stopped, his chest heaving. The fragrance of the meadow flowers filled his dilated nostrils and the feel of the soft grass brushing against his olive skin calmed him.

"Trick?" Willow said in a hoarse voice. "Please don't kill yourself trying to help me next time."

He laughed and hugged her fiercely, tears leaking from his screwed-up eyes. "I can't believe you're alive!" he cried and was surprised at just how much feeling was in his voice.

"I won't be for much longer if you keep crushing my ribs like this," the faery replied but embraced him all the same. "I'm glad you're okay."

Trick pulled back and dashed a hand across his eyes. "All this emotion... I'm not used to it."

Willow smiled faintly. The bridge wasn't far away now, if Indriel was correct, and she knew that they always had a master healer among the guards. She would live, at least.

Trick picked her up again and she tried not to wince. He noticed, of course.

Willow saw his expression and shook her head. "Everything hurts, but carrying me is the only way. I doubt I could walk."

Trick just nodded and began once more to run.

***

There were five guards at the bridge - three faeries and two elves. They were clad in green and brown armour, with sword hilts glittering at their belts. The swords themselves were suddenly drawn with a zing as the guards saw a figure in the distance. It came steadily closer until it could be made out as a fire-elf carrying a faery. The guards were immediately on edge.

"State your business," the commanding guard demanded as the elf drew near, covered in blood and dirt. He looked exhausted.

"I need—a healer—" he gasped, setting the faery down on the dusty earth. "She was—struck—by lightning."

One of the faeries immediately rushed forward and placed a hand on Willow's chest. "Her heart seems steady," he said at last. "What happened during the incident?"

Trick struggled to remember. "There was a white flash and I heard her scream and hit the ground. There's a mark on her back where blood vessels must have burst, and there are burn marks on her body. Otherwise, I think she is okay. I'm surprised her heart didn't give out."

"A faery's heart is a powerful thing," the healer said and gestured for Trick to move backwards. An elf guard followed him.

The others closed round the healer and Trick couldn't see what he was doing to heal her. He moved round to try and get a better view, but to no avail.

"Please can I sit with her?" he asked the elf guard, who shook his head. "You shouldn't be near her. How did you get here, anyway?"

"It's a long tale that I'm too tired to share." Trick ran a heavy hand through his russet hair wearily.

"A likely story," the other elf scoffed. "You lot should stay in the fire kingdom where you belong. You're violent and dangerous. I'm surprised that faery's not dead."

Trick's eyes flashed but he merely clenched his fists and gave the guard the most terrifying death stare he could muster. He had to control his rage, or else he would die. And no one would care, save Willow. Because only she trusted a fire-elf.

A chill wind blew over the lip of the chasm in front of him. It was an enormous gap, easily five times the size of the Lesser Rift, and ten times as deep. It was spanned by a sturdy-looking bridge made of wooden planks thrashed together, with rope handrails on either side. The other side of the Rift showed a dark mass of trees looming above the guards stationed there. There were three elves and two faeries, all of them staring directly at him.

"We're finished here," the healer said with a satisfied nod. Willow was sitting up.

"You're healed!" Trick cried joyfully and ran over. A heavy arm barred his way.

"Keep away from her," the Commander warned. "You have no right to touch her."

"She's my friend! I carried her here!" Trick growled. "You don't even know her!" His hand unconsciously strayed to the sword in his belt, but he checked himself at the last minute and angled his body so they could not see the deadly weapon.

"Calm down, fire boy," another guard warned.

"Don't tell me what to do!" Trick roared and dodged round him, kneeling by Willow's side. Her pale skin was free of soot and burns, although she still had the tree-like mark on her back. It looked more like a scar now.

Willow cried out as the fire-elf was suddenly thrown backwards against a rock, where he crumpled to his knees.

"We'll take care of him, ma'am," the Commander grinned and hauled the elf over to a shimmering patch of air, preparing to throw him into it.

"Stop!" Willow cried, jumping up. A wave of dizziness assaulted her but she steadied herself and ran over to the Commander, tugging on his arms. He shook her off and threw Trick into the shimmering patch, watching the fire-elf disappear. He turned and bowed to Willow.

"You are free of that pestilence," he smiled. Willow slapped him hard across the face. "You fools!" she cried and leaped into the portal.