I stand in a vishly gothic bedroom with an earthen balcony looking out into a misty canyon covered in greenery. I lean on the balcony’s bck iron railing and my host, the towering gaunt owner of this great house, warns me not to lean too far forward or, even worse, step over it. That thin metal bar is all that stands between me and the fairies.

  “No mortal arm is strong enough to overpower their might. No mortal mind clever enough to outwit their games. No mortal heart immovable enough to resist their charms,” he reminds me as if I didn’t already know.

  I thank him for his concern and hospitality then bid him leave me to settle in. Once I am alone I unpack my implements and begin a spell that will prevent me from being able to speak my own name. If I am incapable of saying it, then I can’t be tricked into giving it away.

  My host and I both well know that if I had any other intent — indeed, any other choice — than to go into that other realm.