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his canvas sack, he drew a doublet and breeches made of brown velvet, a starched white ruff, silk hose, and a pair of narrow shoes with pointed toes. Swiftly, he donned the finer clothes, shoving his tattered rags and broad-brimmed hat into the sack in their place. When he had finished, he rose and shouldered the sack once more. Whistling through his teeth, he left the stand of trees and crossed the brook.
    A breath of warm air greeted him as he passed under the boughs of the first great oak tree, just outside the copse. He smiled, noting the crystalline quality of the twilight and the sudden absence of the signs of coming winter. Heaving a deep sigh of satisfaction, he glanced around to choose his path.
    Under the next oak, a figure moved out of the shadows. “Welcome, John,” said a clear, cold voice. “How went thy travels?”
    The man called John turned. “Hugh!” he said in a tone of pleased surprise. He dropped his canvas sack to the ground and embraced the other man. The two were nearly of an age, and they shared the same high forehead and dark, wavy hair. Their heights were identical, too, and both men had wide-set brown eyes and square, determined chins. But Hugh’s eyes and smile held a coolness that set him apart from John, despite their physical resemblance, and the unearthly composure of Faerie was present in his expression and his stance.
    “‘Tis good to see thee, brother mine,” John said, smiling warmly.
    “It’s good to have thee home at last, and safe,” Hugh said. He returned the smile, and though it could not be described as warm his expression came closer to it than anyone familiar with the denizens of Faerie would have expected.
    “What brings thee out to wait for me?” John asked.
    The vestige of warmth left Hugh’s face. “Ill tidings. Yet I’d not have thee hear them from another tongue. Thou art aware that Faerie’s Queen hath long been little pleased by all thy wanderings?”
    “I am.”
    “Her patience hath now reached its end,” Hugh said bluntly. “She hath decreed thou mayest not, for any cause, depart from Faerie more.”
    A black and yellow bird sailed across the sky above, its wings gleaming golden in the setting sun. John blinked, as if he did not believe what he had just heard. “How if I should turn this instant and cross back to mortal lands?”
    “The border would not be there for thee to find,” Hugh said with visible reluctance. “She hath bespelled it against thee, that thou mayest not discover it without aid. And there’s none in Faerie that will aid thee ‘gainst the Queen’s command.”
    John stared blankly for a long moment; then his lips thinned. “Why has our mother done this?”
    “She is Queen, and fears for Faerie and for thee,” Hugh replied. “If she hath another reason, I know it not.” A breath of cool air stirred the leaves of the oak above him, and their rustling sounded loud and foreign in the clearing.
    “Does she mistrust me?” John said in a tight voice.
    Hugh shrugged. “It’s possible. There are those among her councillors who’d gladly urge her to it. Thy travels in the mortal world have not endeared thee to the greater part of Faerie, and there are many who mislike thy human blood.”
    “Thou hast as much of mortal blood as I!”
    “Thou speakest truth, yet thy ties to humankind are greater,” Hugh said. His pale face was inhumanly calm. “Our father had thee baptized.”
    “Yet I chose Faerie freely,” John said angrily. “I’ve given no one cause for this harsh treatment!”
    “Calm thyself,” Hugh advised. “The court meets for revels three days hence, on the Eve of All Hallows‘. Thou mayest then lay thy case before the Queen.”
    “And if she denies me?”
    “Why, then, thou‘lt spend the winter here, as thou hast always done, and speak to her again at May Eve,” Hugh responded. “It’s not so great a matter, after all.”
    “Belike it seems not so to thee,” John said. “In me, it rankles.” He