I close the door and turn around to find Albína by my closet with a wide smile spread across her face.

"I have something for you," she says in a singsong voice that emphasizes her excitement. Her smile grows surprisingly larger when she unfolds the black dress in her arms. "I had them rush this so you'd have something appropriate to wear tonight. I hope you like it."

A smile spreads across my face. Elves don't wear black, which means this dress was custom-made. Albína abhors black, especially on women. The fact that she rushed this unfrilly dark dress just for me touches my soul in a way I can't explain. It causes my stomach to do a little flip and my chest to hurt. Someone went out of their way to do something nice for me because they thought it would make me happy. I didn't know people actually did that.

"Thank you," is all I can think to say.

I put the dress on. I'm trying to remember the last time I had a dress, but nothing comes to mind. Maybe I've never worn one. I wish Auntie would've taken pictures of me when I was younger. It's hard to believe that I never wore a dress, but it's possible.

I like the high neckline and long sleeves that are relatively simple compared to what the elves wear. The tailored bodice fits my body, and when I give Albína a spin, the skirt flares out around me. It's so fun feeling the dress float around my knees that I twirl a few more times until I get dizzy.

I step in front of the mirror to see if I'm as attractive as I feel. My heart sinks when it's still plain old Agatha. The dress is pretty, though. I just wish the elves had resisted the urge to add the gold embroidery. Starting at my shoulder is a gold dragon-snake creature that weaves its way down to my waist then circles around my back to end in the front, just above my knee.

"You never know. You may start a trend," Albína coos as she adjusts the dress. She's all smiles until she stands back to have a look at me. She frowns, and I want to rip the dress from my body. I'm just not a dress-wearing kind of girl.

"Maybe I'm getting used to your fashion sense, but the goanna seems a bit much." She touches my shoulder and says, "Tovab coim."

The embroidered goanna slithers across my body. I throw my arms out and freeze. I don't even breathe. What the heck is around me? I thought it was thread, but it can move. It tickles as it slithers across my belly, but I'm so frightened I don't make a sound. It only takes a few seconds for the goanna to wrap itself around my waist twice and tie itself in a knot over my hip.

"That's much better," she says while she adds a clip to my hair. Once she's satisfied, she asks, "Are you alright?"

I'm as still as a statue with my arms stretched out at my sides because I don't want to touch the embroidery. It might bite me or squeeze me or something. I wish she would've ordered it to the curtains. I force a smile to my face and lower my arms because I don't want her to know that I'm afraid of my pretty dress.

When the goanna doesn't move, I smile for real and I give her another spin. Only this time I do it to see if the goanna will move again. It doesn't.

I take a deep breath and then stare awkwardly at her. We're both waiting for Jonah to fetch me, but in the meantime we're alone with nothing to do. We stand in uncomfortable stillness for a few moments until I can't take it anymore.

"So," I say, but run out of words. Ask a question, my brain demands but refuses to produce the actual question. I hope she can't see my panic as I frantically search my empty mind for anything else to say. Too much time has passed from my opening, So, amplifying my self-consciousness. This situation is rapidly leaving awkward and barreling straight into painful. I need to say something.

"I don't know anything about you, Albína." When in doubt, state the obvious. I forget which teacher said that, but I could kiss her right now. I do a quick exhale and catch myself. I was so nervous, I forgot to breathe. I take a few short breaths, trying to be sly, but she's onto me. With the added oxygen, my brain forms a question. "Are you married?"

By the time I leave my room, I know that Albína is widowed and her husband died in battle a long time ago. She has five grown children, all of whom are married, and one who works for the embassy, which makes her proud. She's been in the Queen's service for most of her life, loves her job and the royal family. She had her own apartment here at the castle, but she likes the one attached to my chambers better because it has a bigger closet. I heard many other facts but can't keep them in my head because they came at me so fast.

When Jonah and I arrive at dinner, we seem to be the last ones to arrive again. "Are we late?"

"No, you're the guest of honor. You have to arrive last," he explains. Elves have rules for everything.

This time instead of placing me next to the King, Jonah puts me next to a still-miserable Dathid, who is sitting next to the Princess.

Dathid stands, giving me a clear view of his wife. "Hello," she says with a big smile.

I'm not sure if I'm supposed to bow or something, so I opt for a small smile and a brief "Hi" with an equally small wave.

Dathid pulls out my chair and I quickly sit. When he's seated next to me, he thankfully blocks me from any more conversation. He takes a drink and I catch him subtly laughing at my dress. I don't take offense. He's laughing at the elves' sense of style, not at me.

There's no chair on my other side, so Jonah takes a seat between Princess Elaeria and the Queen. I'm alone in this big room with all of these weird elves staring at me and nobody to make conversation with except Dathid. This is going to be a long night.

Dathid leans in to whisper with a chuckle, "Nice goanna."

It pleases me to elicit a smile from him, but I like the elves. I'm still deeply touched that they tried so hard to make me happy. Dathid has a right to not like them, but I don't want to disparage my nice dress, so I lie. "I like it."

"Well, in that case, I won't tell you what to say to make it go away."

"You can do that?" I whisper back.

He chuckles at my quick change of attitude. "Yep," he says into his cup as he takes a drink. "We can put it over there on that awful unicorn tapestry. The elves would probably love it. Give it some more color."

The tapestry is pretty, but it's also extremely colorful, just like everything else the elves touch. The shiny gold goanna planted in the middle of the busy needlework would give the tapestry the one color it doesn't have.

"That's not nice," I say with a giggle.

Food is served and our conversation ends. This time, when the waiter pours the bright yellow liquid into my goblet, Dathid doesn't pull it away. I'm curious about how it tastes, so before he changes his mind, I grab it and take a quick sip. It's sickeningly sweet, like cough syrup with extra sugar.

I make a face and he laughs. "I didn't think you'd like it."

"Ugh. That's awful," I whisper while covertly wiping my tongue on my napkin.

Dathid laughs again, which draws the attention of Princess Elaeria. She glances at him and then at me. Her gaze isn't critical, more like astounded. She seems curious to know what could possibly make him laugh. However, I'm not sure she's pleased with his jovial mood.

Our lack of conversation gives me the opportunity to reflect on my day and my hosts, which inevitably causes me to compare the elves to the faeries. The elves are so foreign, old-fashioned and otherworldly, but the faeries seem almost human. Granted, they're more beautiful than any people I've ever seen, but with their wings folded they appear human and they act more human too.

"Dathid, how come faeries have more in common with humans than the elves do? I mean, I don't know. I was led to believe that elves were magical and stuff, but they were more humanesque. Faeries were more mystical, something like a butterfly, I guess—still magic, of course, but elusive. Or is that offensive?"

He's thoughtful for a moment. I probably should've asked Jonah this question because asking people about their race and ethnicity and stuff is rude. They should give me a book or something. Dathid and I are finally on good terms, so I don't want my stupid mouth and even stupider brain to mess that up.

He swallows his bite of food, wipes his mouth, then looks to his wife, who's deep in conversation with Jonah. He scans the crowd, then turns to me while resting his head on his hands. He's trying to block our conversation from the others at the table.

"Well," he says quietly, "the humans and the elves have much in common. I'm surprised you don't see the resemblance. I think that because the elves lived on Earth for millennia, you share many similarities. Although humans and elves didn't have much interaction until close to Peme Nav Wusht."

I guess he read my confused expression because he translates. "Peme Nav Wusht is what we call the sealing of the portals."

He takes another drink and continues. "The timing worked out well for the elves. They lived in areas that had temperate weather. As the humans invaded those territories, they were slowly pushed back to Ashra. Some were trapped on the other side when the portals closed, but they've all since died out."

Dathid scans the room and takes a deep breath. He chooses his words carefully when he whispers, "Elves don't really like humans. As I said, the humans took their lands. They warred with the humans for centuries until they gave up and left. It's odd that you don't see the similarities, though. Elves shaped much of the human culture."

He waves his arms to point out the grand room and all its luxuries. "They were living like this when humans had very small numbers and were living in mud huts. Not only did humans adopt their feudalistic politics, but much of what humans know about agriculture and husbandry they learned from the elves."

"The elves don't like me?" I ask. "They seem so nice."

Dathid lifts his head from his hands. "Of course they like you. I'm speaking in a broader sense. None of these elves were alive in the time before Peme Nav Wusht. They've never had their lands stolen, and other than the occasional Wizard, they haven't seen a human for generations."

I'm relieved. I like the elves. Well, one elf—Albína. We're becoming friends, and I'd hate to think that she doesn't like me because I'm human.

"The differences you're seeing are mainly in their appearance. They are awfully pointy. Other than my wings, I could pass for human."

"You're way too pretty to be human," I blurt out, then pray for death.

He laughs. "I've heard that before," he says to ease my embarrassment. "Did you know that faeries have never lived on Earth?"

"What? How?" I stutter. "Then how do we know about you?"

"It's possible fairies were spotted while hunting on Earth, but not likely. It wasn't a common practice because we're temperature-sensitive. Your change of day could be fatal. I think most of the human stories are mainly from humans who have come over here. Before the Knights were posted at the portals, humans would often stumble through one. If it survived, it was usually escorted back by a faerie. We don't eat humans."

After a moment I say, "You know, that's the most amount of words you've ever said to me."

Dathid gives me a crooked smile. "I've had a lot to drink."

That makes me laugh. He can be charming when he wants to be. "So if faeries have had little contact with humans, how come we seem to have so much in common?"

"Well, as I said, we look a lot alike. I can only speak for my clan when I say we're fond of your culture. When our clan first settled here, that portal was rarely used. There was nothing on the other side. Occasionally, we would see a human, one of your..." He pauses, trying to remember the name.

"Oh, I forgot the English word," he says, as he puts his hand to his mouth and struggles to remember. "What do you call the humans who were there first? The ones who were there before America?"

"Native Americans?"

"Yes, Native Americans. Should've guessed that one. Well, sometimes a Native American would wander in, or if we were hunting over there, one would see us. It wasn't until we started seeing the towers that we took an interest in your culture."

"Interest? How?"

"We read a lot of your books, magazines, and newspapers. Our library is probably five times the size of the largest library on Earth. However, there are other faerie clans, in other parts of Ashra that have little in common with the humans."

I'm so engrossed with what Dathid is saying that I jump when the music starts. I hope he doesn't have to dance again, or worse, that I'll have to dance. Thankfully, an elf with an intensely sparkly hat parades to the dance floor with a woman who is covered in so many feathers she looks like she's dusting the floor, not dancing on it.

Dathid leans in. "I don't suggest you hang about for the dancing. You've an early day tomorrow."

I'm relieved that I don't have to stay. Last night was fun, but I'm more of a solitary person. Once is enough for me.

"Give me a moment and I'll escort you back," he says dismissively as he turns to speak to his wife.

He's talking to her in Naga-Nuru. That's three languages he's spoken so far. How many more does he know? Jonah chimes in with something in the same language and then Dathid stands and pulls my chair out. He holds out his arm and I grab it. I want to know if it's an elf thing, the holding of the arm, or if the faeries normally do it, too. But I won't ask because it's probably rude.

It's much quieter when we leave the hall. Every elf we pass suspiciously eyes Dathid. They don't do much to hide their disdain, and it's making me uneasy. I can't imagine how he feels.

"Do you feel safe here?"

"Yeah," he says, none too convincingly. "For the most part I do, but not very comfortable."

"It must be hard to be married to your enemy." No wonder he was so unhappy about the journey here. I shouldn't have judged him so harshly.

"That's probably the hardest part."

I thought he'd say more, but he doesn't. Our comfortable silence slips into awkward.

"Well," I say in order to change the subject, "the nice thing about your lack of friends is that it's made me your ally. You're a lot nicer when everybody's afraid of you."

"I've always been your ally," Dathid says, genuinely hurt by my little joke. "I've sworn my life to you. I'm truly sorry if I gave you the impression that we aren't allies."

"No, I'm sorry. It was just a stupid joke. You've made a lot of sacrifices bringing me here and I appreciate it. I do. Thank you."

He doesn't acknowledge my apology or appreciation, but I let the matter drop when we arrive at my room. He makes me wait outside while he checks to confirm that it's safe inside. It's unnecessary, but I don't say anything. It makes him happy, so why fight it? He opens the door for me when he's done. He looks uncomfortable.

Before I can invite him to have a seat on the sofa he blurts out, "I'm leaving tomorrow."

"What?" is the question that leaps from my lips while my brain hopes that maybe I misheard him. One of my only two friends in the world—sorry, two worlds—is abandoning me tomorrow.

"I'm sorry," he says lamely.

I didn't realize how close I had grown to Dathid. The thought of him leaving makes my chest hurt. Betrayal and abandonment swirl around my brain.

"Why? You've only been here a day."

He takes a deep breath. "Well, as you can see, I'm not welcome here."

"But your wife is here!" I shout. That may not be the best argument, but it's all I've got.

"I'm sorry," he says again. "I was to escort you here and I have done so. I have responsibilities in Manahata that I dropped when you needed me. I must get back to them." It's wrong of me to want him to stay, but I don't want him to go. "You'll be exceptionally busy. You probably won't even notice I'm gone."

I can't say anything. I've never been good at making friends, and I'm even worse at keeping them.

"I'll come back," he says. "When you're ready to go in search of the key, I'll be there with you."

A weight lifts off my shoulders. "Do you promise?"

"Yes, of course, I promise."

"Pinky swear?" I quietly joke.

"You want me to give you a pinky!"

"No," I laugh, holding up my pinky.

Dathid wraps his finger around mine and stares into my eyes. "I bind myself to you in the most sacred covenant of the pinky swear. I will return to you and always be at your side whenever I am needed."

I hug him, which surprises both of us. He's momentarily stunned but recovers quickly and hugs me back. "I vow to you, Agatha, that I will be here when you need me," he whispers to the top of my head.

We break our embrace and I escort him to the door. "You won't leave without saying goodbye?"

"I swear."