Everything changed when he inhaled.

  It didn’t seem like much, that drifting haze from her powdery wings, dispersing through the air. But when he breathed it in, that cloudy eminence seemed to come aglow.

  And he felt it. Suddenly, it wasn’t just sight that his mind was translating into physical attraction. It was all the senses.

  He found himself ravished by her aroma. It was unlike anything he’d ever smelled, yet had something of many scents: Roses. Honey. And something almost . . . human, but not quite.

  He’d always laughed a little at the notion of animals being irresistibly drawn to each other by body smells, dignified as “pheromones.” But now he understood. Oh, yes, he understood.

  “Proto!” called a voice behind and below these lofty heights. “I’m waiting down here!”

  There was a feeling too—not just the pseudo-feeling we call emotion, but the reality of touch. He felt like unseen hands were massaging him everywhere at once, always gently, but firmly enough to release everything pent up inside. Yet they’d stop any second, too early, unless he continued to come where she was calling.

  The fairy crooked her finger at him, drifting backward as she flapped. He stepped forward obligingly, happily, and stepped again.

  He felt his world had widened five times over. And his old world now felt unbearably small.

  “Proto!” called Lilac earnestly.

  A memory flashed through his recollection: “This is mine. And this is yours now. You’ve made it yours. . . . Yours to break and mine to mend.” She handed him the mug, and suddenly he was set free.

  He looked down in a giddy daze, half-expecting to see the mug there. Its absence made him sad. The whole world seemed foggy, like he were driving a car in the Winter, and the windows had steamed up with breath and heat.

  He turned and scanned the bottom of the cliff. There was Lilac, looking up with wide, blinking eyes.

  Upon seeing him, she let loose a sigh and planted her hands on her hip. “Well? Having trouble finding that gigantic pink pillar? Do I need to characterize it further?”

  “Uh, no. Sorry. Just a sec.” It was a dullard’s reply. But the fog in his head was clearing.

  By the time he turned back toward the pillar, it was dawning on him that he’d just been remotely roofied with some sort of pixie powder. And the red-and-purple-winged culprit was fluttering away even now. She disappeared into the shadows of one of four tunnels ahead.

  He wondered whether he should chase her or something. But to what end? Demand an apology? Tell her that her lust-dust had just whirled his world and shook his rook?

  Let her be. Do what you came here to do, his inner voice commanded.

  And Proto obeyed, approaching the tall pink stone and tying the rope.

  “Incoming!” he called to Lilac, then tossed the coils down to her.

  She’d hiked up her yukata to near waist-level, rolling and tying it. She began climbling deftly from foothold to foothold, only occasionally grasping the rope and pulling herself up a couple feet where necessary.

  As she did so, another voice in Proto wondered what would’ve happened if he’d come where that fairy had called him. Shall we . . . spread our wings and find out?

  He told that voice to shut up.

  We’ll keep her waiting in the wings, the voice replied.

  “A hand, please?”

  He looked down.

  Lilac’s head and shoulders were above the cliff, and she was holding out a hand. Her bared legs were splayed wide on far apart footholds. Their pallor shone even in the indirect dimness of the flashlight.

  The bottom half of the yukata was bunched up about her midsection. Long black hair fell over its front and back. Her hair really was thick. It both was darker and reflected more light than seemed possible.

  And then there were her black eyes, those shimmering pools, those dark depths—glaring with annoyance at him.

  “Well!?” she demanded, waving her open hand.

  Blinking, he grabbed her hand and hauled her overtop, a bit harder than he’d meant to. She was also willowy and light. And she’d sprung upward herself to give some added momentum.

  As a result, she ended up being heaved over the cliff’s edge and tumbling toward him. He caught her—but not his balance.

  Back he fell, pounding onto his rear and then his back. She came with him, managing to catch herself on her hands and knees. This left her crouching over him.

  Her black hair was spilling over him. In its shadowy midst, he could see her gaze, glimmering dark amid the darkness.

  Was it a void that he was drawn to fill? Or was it a black hole, immeasurably vast and adding him to itself?

  Either way, he found himself drawn toward it irresistibly.

  She tore her gaze away and stood, brushing off her hands. “I’m supposed to test you. But sometimes, I feel like you’re testing me!” She ran a hand through her hair. “My patience, I mean.”

  “Um.” Her yukata was still hiked up to waist-level, and she was standing almost directly over him. “Please, keep testing.”

  She tilted her head at him. Then, she followed his gaze to herself.

  She stepped away from him, ears flushing pink, and let down her robe.

  Forcing down a smile, he sighed wistfully. “Is it just me, or did this room just get darker?”

  She swatted his arm as he rose to his feet.

  “This flashlight’s low,” he observed, shaking the tube. “Could you maybe just . . . ?” He grabbed his pantlegs and pulled them up a little.

  She swatted the back of his head.

  “Now I’m seeing stars.” He rubbed his head. “Actually, no. That’s just light spots from the extreme white brightness of—”

  “Last time I went high,” she broke in sweetly, balling her fist. “Next time I go low!”

  He looked down at his pants, then back up at her.

  She smiled.

  His eyes widened. His hands covered the front of his pants. “Lilac, Lilac, please don’t strike that!”

  She stepped forward, eyes sparkling. “Lilac, Lilac, here comes a light smack!” She raised her fist.

  “Lilac, Lilac—what if I fight back!” He raised the flashlight menacingly.

  “Lilac, Lilac . . . something something sliced sack!” She drew a butter knife from her basket.

  Proto turned and ran away.

  Lilac laughed delightedly behind him, as the flashlight in his hand beamed all over the pink walls.

  “By the way.” He paused his retreat. “I should mention. When I first got up here, there was some sort of fairy ghost. She seemed to be, uh, beckoning me.”

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  “Oh? Was she?” Lilac sounded utterly unsurprised. “Well, we’d best get going then.” She strode toward the tunnel through which the fairy had flapped off.

  Proto frowned. He had not told Lilac which of the four tunnels it’d been.

  “A ghost fairy, was it?” Lilac calmly continued. “Next you’ll be telling me she lured you in with scents of roses and honey, I suppose!”

  He stared at her. “Sometimes, I feel like you’re testing me!” she’d said.

  “That’s the tack, is it!” Lilac went on archly. “Make me feel jealous. Mm. You should ask what I saw when I first came here!”

  “Should I?”

  She nodded. “Here’s a hint. Fairy wings. Nice hair. Nice body. And no tracksuit!”

  “Oh? What was his name?” he asked.

  “‘His’?” she said.

  Proto blinked.

  She winked.

  And on she glided.

  “So. That comment about the tracksuit,” said Proto after a moment.

  “Oh, I like your tracksuit,” she assured him. “Like I like your mussed-up hair and frequent screw-ups.”

  He frowned. “Well. That’s reassuring.”

  “I hope my polite hinting isn’t too subtle. Have you considered a yukata?” She gestured at her robe and her belt of blue and yellow primroses.

  “Yes. The more flowery, the better,” he confirmed.

  “Perfect! I have a spare belt.” She retrieved it triumphantly from within her robe. It was covered in lilacs.

  He nodded grimly as she wrapped it around his waist, sizing it up, then tied it around his tracksuit.

  She nodded in satisfaction at her work. “What do you think!”

  He eyed the thing. “Oh, what have I done.”

  Her eyes sparkled. Then, she pulled what looked like an off-brand Polaroid from her basket-bag. “Proto, Proto, how about a photo!”

  “Wow.” He fixed his apparently mussed-up hair. “Do I have a choice?”

  “Not today!” She beamed. “Proto, Proto, how about . . . a kimono!” She reached inside her basket-bag excitedly.

  “In there? There’s no way . . . ” he trailed off.

  She pulled out a doll-sized kimono.

  He looked down at it, then back up at her.

  She placed the kimono on his thumb.

  He stared at it. “Did you plan all this? What sort of mastermind . . .?”

  “Proto kimono photo time!” she cried, leaning in next to him with her little camera raised. She made a cool face and a peace sign. He gave a thumbs up with his kimono thumb. And she snapped the picture.

  The paper slid out and started slowly clarifying. “Hang it somewhere nice!” she enjoined, handing it to him.

  “You want me to have it?” He watched the memory take shape on the paper. The lighting wasn’t perfect. And the photo wasn’t exactly high-resolution. But no camera could’ve missed how those black eyes sparkled.

  “Sure, there’s plenty more where that came from.” Lilac strolled ahead. “If you want it.”

  She stepped into the shadows of the fairy’s tunnel. And he followed her lead, beaming it bright.

  As the tunnel ahead broadened to a chamber, she flapped her arms. And his light cast a titanic shadow fairy against the far wall, fluttering its shadow wings.

  “Now I reveal my true form!” she declared in a menacing baritone. She flapped her way around the corner ahead.

  “You won’t escape me, Shadowfairy Lilac!” Proto vowed, racing after her with a smile and pumping flashlight, as he rounded the corner. “I’ll—”

  He cut off. In front of him was a shadow fairy.

  Well, no. It was a fairy standing in the shadows—the same fairy that’d almost lured him in earlier. She now looked fully corporeal, not half-transparent. Her fey beauty and charm now had a note of queenliness. Indeed, a tall throne stood behind her. It looked like it’d been formed from stone flowing like water, churning and foaming, and abruptly frozen in place.

  Nearby, Lilac stood calmly in her kimono, serenely brushing a strand of black hair from her face, looking for all the world like she’d been painted there by some classical artist.

  “Greetings, manfolk. My name is Anima,” hailed the queenly fairy. “I had hoped that you’d chase me. But perhaps not quite like that.” She eyed his getup.

  Proto looked down at his tracksuit, complete with a big lilac-covered yukata belt and—sigh—the doll kimono on his thumb.

  Why does this keep happening to me?

  “Yes, that’s mine!” replied Lilac mildly, clasping his lilac-covered belt. “I’m afraid he’s tied up.”

  “Shame,” yawned Anima.

  “I wonder where that chase would’ve led,” mumbled Proto, eying the lithesome queen as she fluttered.

  “Nowhere good!” Lilac tugged him backward by the lilac-covered belt.

  “Oh, all over this cave, and ultimately back where you started. And she”—Anima gestured toward Lilac—“no doubt would’ve moved on by then. No one can catch me! People only reach me here by chasing something else. Or someone.”

  As she spoke, Proto surveyed the room—a sort of decorated grotto open to the outdoors. Both sunlight and a burbling brook flowed in from outside.

  Beyond the entrance, he could see grass and trees. Flowers grew in colorful multitudes. Frolicking in their midst were dozens of fairies.

  “Speaking of which,” said Lilac, “we’re here on an errand for Somnus.”

  Anima sighed. “Yes, yes, the Breath Tokens. It’s vexing how he ignores me except when he needs something, and then he sends others to come get it!”

  Something about the way she spoke reminded Proto of Flua-Sahng—that redheaded and radiant Queen of Heaven he’d met in Mercune’s dream. Maybe her regal bearing or something.

  “What would you do if Somnus came?” asked Lilac.

  “Lead him on a merry chase, then fly away and take a nap,” she replied immediately. “Then, if he still wanted anything, he could come visit my dreams and ask me about it!”

  “I can’t imagine why he doesn’t visit more often,” mused Proto.

  “Quite!” pouted Anima. “The problem is, no one seems to understand what fun is. The fun lies in the chase, not the catching. People get so good at getting what they want, they miss what they need!”

  “Fun?” asked Proto.

  “Me.” Anima was enswathed again in cloudy radiance. Her lips parted, and her eyes widened. Pink, shimmering eyes, rapt upon him. And that aroma! Roses and honey and . . .

  “So. The Breath Tokens,” Lilac flatly interrupted.

  “Alright, alright!” sighed Anima, turning away. The spell over Proto abruptly broke. “This way.” She fluttered out of the grotto into the grassy paradise outside.

  They followed her about a hundred yards, as motley birds and fairies and butterflies winged by. Ahead, dozens of silvery sacks were hanging from the boughs of a hawthorn tree on silken strings.

  Anima crooked her finger at a straying fairy and issued a command. It gathered some of its brethren and flapped over to the tree. Together, they untied two sacks and carried them back to the waiting trio.

  They dropped the two sacks directly at Proto’s feet.

  He looked down at the hefty bags, then up at Lilac. “By the way. Why did you need me here?”

  She looked down at the hefty bags, then up at him. She smiled cheerfully.

  He sighed.

  “You brag to the world that you’ve been lifting,” she recalled. “And then you complain when I give you the chance to show it off?”

  “You’ll certainly have your chance to show off!” observed Anima. “This is a double order.”

  Proto managed to heft the two sacks in one hand. “Okay, where’s the other half?” He stretched his other arm behind his head, absently flexing his bicep.

  Anima laughed. “That may be more impressive minus the tracksuit.”

  “Always the tracksuit!” he lamented. “No comments on my flowery belt?”

  “Your friend is fun, Lilac. He reminds me of myself,” remarked Anima.

  “Is it his whimsical flightiness? Or the fact that everything’s a joke to him?” asked the bartendress.

  “Both! Well said,” concurred Anima. “Also, I get the sense that he likes a chase almost as much as I do. Though I suspect he chases more than he’s chased.”

  “Oh, it’s quite a bit of both, I think,” muttered Lilac.

  “What’s that?” asked Proto, who was busy shifting a sack to his other hand. This weight was killing his left arm.

  “Nothing!” she replied, turning to Anima. “Well, we’re off, before Proto’s arms fall off. Thank you as always.”

  “Anytime!” Anima touched her lips and briefly glowed again. “Really, anytime.”

  Proto forced his stare away and started to follow Lilac.

  Dazed and bedazzled, and straining with the bags, it took him a moment to realize they weren’t returning to the grotto. Instead, they were wandering further into fairyland.

  “Taking a detour?” he asked.

  “Giving your arms a much-needed workout!” she answered.

  He eyed his bicep and nodded grimly.

  “No. Your arm is good.” She patted his muscle kindly. “We’re just taking another route. Like I said, you have to take the odyssey first. But once you do, there’s an easier route home.”

  “That does sound like the Odyssey,” he noted.

  “Remember, Proto! Lilac, not Dahlia.”

  “My bad.” He scanned the luscious flowery fields. “So . . . is our odyssey over then?”

  “Not quite!” She pointed toward a circle of standing stones atop a hill on the horizon. It looked like Stonehenge, only not half-fallen. “We’re headed there.”

  “Ah. Is it time for our druid ritual already?” inquired Proto. “Has the solstice arrived? Is the sun transitioning from Gemini to Cancer?”

  “Here, have an hors d’oeuvre and keep quiet.” She reached into her basket-bag and handed him a wafer with pear, bleu cheese and honey.

  “Will do.” He bit off half and, closing his eyes, savored it.

  “Yes, make it last,” she instructed. “No seconds till we’re all set up!”

  “Can this odyssey last forever?” he asked through a mouthful.

  “That’s entirely up to you,” she murmured, looking heavenward. The sun beamed down upon her pallor, and she beamed back.

  Outside of Somnus’ Palace, the sky had looked universally mirky and mysterious. But here, it looked as celestial blue as the grass was elysian green.

  “I guess there’s no rush, is there?” Proto felt a little giddy.

  “Nope. Only Paunch and Somnus are waiting for us,” she replied. “I don’t care what one of them thinks. And the other could use some time away from the kitchen.”

  Proto swallowed again, savoring the dreamy flavors. “If he’s not careful, he’s going to find himself out of a job. Replaced by Lilac!”

  “Which one of them?” Her black eyes sparkled. “The one who cooks delicious food? Or the one you dream of?”

  He looked at her: That dark gaze glimmering light. The paleness of her face around her quirked-up lips. The black hair pouring down the white and blackness of her robe. Indeed, she was black and white from head to heel, except those blue and yellow primroses on the belt that held it all together.

  He found his lips falling apart.

  Before he could decide what to do or say next, she slid another hors d’oeuvre into his open mouth—a bacon-wrapped water chestnut.

  He blinked but, obviously, couldn’t say anything. Instead, he just started chewing.

  She nodded in satisfaction.

  About twenty seconds later, she glanced at him but found him still chewing vigorously. She giggled.

  Meanwhile, they reached the standing stones, looming large and mysterious. Lilac opened her basket-bag and pulled out a thin blanket fraught with primroses, lilacs and other little flowers. She lay it across the grass.

  When Proto finally swallowed that bite, he loosed a long sigh of wistful satisfaction.

  Again, she peered at him a moment, then smiled. “Yes, that’s enough of an answer for today,” she murmured.

  “So . . . is there more where that came from?” He leaned and tried to look inside the basket-bag. From this angle, it looked nearly as dark and obscure as the depths of her eyes.

  “What do you think?” She reached inside.