Someone tugged her hair sharply. A tiny figure hovered near her shoulder, gossamer wings buzzing like a hummingbirds. She grinned and held out what looked like a plump grape, except the skin of the fruit was bright blue and speckled with orange.

"Oh... Uh thank you?" She took the fruit, but kept it in her hand.

She gave a delighted giggle, and sped away.

"Be careful," Grimalkin rumbled, as a heady aroma rose from the little fruit. "Eating or drinking certain things in Faery could have unpleasant consequences for someone like you. Do not eat anything. In fact, until we find your Puck, I would not talk to anyone. And whatever you do, do not accept gifts of any sort. This is going to be a long night."

She nodded.
"Thank you. I'll be careful."

The knights scattered faeries as they rode through the courtyard toward a high stone wall with a pair of silver gates in front. Two massive creatures, each ten feet tall, blue-skinned and tusked, guarded the doors. Their eyes glimmered yellow beneath ropey black hair and heavy brows. Even dressed up, their arms and chests bulging through the fabric of their red uniforms, popping the brass buttons, they were still terrifying. "Trolls," muttered Grimalkin. "Be thankful were in Oberons land. The Winter Court employs ogres."

The knights stopped and let her down a few feet from the gate. "Be courteous when you speak to the Erlking, child," the knight she'd ridden with told her, and wheeled his mount away. She was left facing two giant trolls with nothing but a cat and her backpack.

"Come on." The cat sighed, lashing his tail. "Let us meet Lord Pointy Ears and get this over with."

The two trolls blinked as the cat fearlessly approached the gate, looking like a gray bug scuttling around their clawed feet. But the troll only reached over and pulled the gate open as the other did the same on his side. Grimalkin shot her a backward glance, twitched his tail, and slipped through the archway.

Amelia just kept facing forward, not wanting to make eye contact with the trolls. She followed Grimalkin through the arch way, she was very nervous.

The forest grew thick on the other side of the gates, as if the wall had been built to keep it in check. A tunnel of flowering trees and branches stretched away from her, fully in bloom, the scent kind of overpowering.

The tunnel ended with a curtain of vines, opening up into a vast clearing surrounded by giant trees. The ancient trunks and interlocking branches made a sort of cathedral, a living palace of giant columns and a leafy vaulted ceiling. Sunlight dappled the forest floor, slanting in through tiny cracks in the canopy. Glowing balls of light danced in the air, and a waterfall cascaded gently into a nearby pool. The colors here were dazzling.

A hundred faeries clustered around the middle of the clearing, dressed in brilliant, alien finery. By the look of it, these were the nobles of the court. Their hair hung long and flowing, or was styled in impossible fashions atop their heads. Satyrs, easily recognized by their shaggy goat legs, and furry little men padded back and forth, serving drinks and trays of food. Slender hounds with moss-green fur milled about, hoping for dropped crumbs. Elven knights in silvery chain armor stood stiffly around the room; a few held hawks or even tiny dragons.

In the center of this gathering sat a pair of thrones, seemingly grown out of the forest floor and flanked by two liveried centaurs. One of the thrones stood empty, except for a caged raven on one of the arms. The great black bird cawed and beat its wings against its prison, its beady eyes bright and green. However, in the throne on the left, was Oberon.

She looked around in awe but didn't show it too much.
"Do you know where I'm supposed to go? Why do I need to be here?"
She asked Grimalkin quietly, trying not to put too much attention on herself.

King Oberon sat with his fingers steepled together, gazing out at the crowd. Like the rest of the fey nobles, he was tall and slender, with silver hair that fell to his waist and eyes like green ice. An antlered crown rested on his brow, casting a long shadow over the court, like grasping talons. Power radiated from him, as subtle as a thunderstorm.

Over the colorful sea of nobles, he spotted Amelia. Oberon raised one eyebrow, graceful as the curve of a hawks wing, but no expression showed on his face. And at that moment, every faery in the room stopped what it was doing and turned to stare at her.

"Great," muttered Grimalkin. "Now they all know we are here. Well, come on, human. Let us play nicies with the court."

She looked at everyone looking at her for a split second.
'I guess I'm known...' She said to herself, before following Grimalkin.