The sensation of passing through the boundary was like stepping through a curtain of warm honey—thick and sweet and slightly disorienting. For a moment, Ali's vision blurred, the world around her becoming a kaleidoscope of colors and shifting patterns. When everything settled back into focus, she found herself in a landscape that both was and wasn't the forest she'd walked through with her mother.
The trees were still impossibly tall, but now they seemed to be made of living silver and gold, their leaves casting prismatic shadows that danced across the ground. The air itself felt different—thicker somehow, charged with an energy that made her skin tingle and her silvery-blonde hair float slightly around her face as if she were underwater.
Following her mother's instructions, Ali kept her gaze forward, though every fiber of her being wanted to turn and look back. She could sense other presences nearby—other tributes, she assumed, all making their way toward whatever waited ahead. The path beneath her feet had changed too, becoming a swirling pattern of iridescent stones that seemed to pulse faintly with each step.
As she walked, Ali became aware of movement in the spaces between the trees. Flickers of light that might have been wings, shadows that didn't quite match their sources, and occasionally, clear bell-like laughter that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere at once. She clutched her bag tighter, very conscious of the velvet pouch of tokens pressed against her side.
The path widened gradually, and ahead she could see a clearing bathed in what looked like eternal sunset, though she was certain it had been mid-morning when she'd crossed the boundary. Other paths converged with hers, and she began to see her fellow tributes more clearly—teenagers like herself, all walking with the same mixture of wonder and apprehension on their faces.
A girl with auburn hair caught her eye and offered a hesitant smile. She wore a dress similar to Ali's, in a soft shade of green that somehow matched the strange light perfectly. Ali smiled back, grateful for this small human connection in the midst of so much strangeness.
The clearing, when they reached it, was a perfect circle surrounded by trees that seemed to be made of pure light. At its center stood three figures that Ali immediately knew were fae, though she couldn't have explained how she knew. There was something about them that was simultaneously more and less than human—their beauty too perfect, their movements too fluid, their presence too intense to be entirely natural.
The first was tall and willowy, with hair the color of moonlight and eyes that seemed to contain entire galaxies. The second was shorter but no less striking, with skin the rich brown of fertile earth and hair that moved like autumn leaves in a breeze. The third was the most otherworldly of all—neither clearly male nor female, with features that seemed to shift and change when viewed from different angles.
"Welcome, tributes," the first fae said, their voice like wind through silver chimes. "I am known as Frost-Over-Still-Waters, and I will be one of your guides to the Summer Court." They gestured to their companions. "With me are Amber-Leaves-Dancing and Twilight-Between-Worlds. We will ensure your safe passage to the inner court, where you will be presented to Her Majesty, the Summer Queen."
Ali found herself holding her breath, transfixed by the way the guide's hair seemed to capture and reflect the eternal sunset. She forced herself to exhale slowly, remembering her mother's warnings about staring too long at any one aspect of the fae.
"You will notice," Amber-Leaves-Dancing continued, their voice rich and melodious, "that you each feel drawn to follow one of us. This is by design. Trust this instinct—it will lead you to the path best suited to your nature."
Sure enough, Ali felt a subtle pull toward Frost-Over-Still-Waters, and she noticed other tributes already beginning to drift into three loose groups. The auburn-haired girl she'd smiled at earlier was moving toward Twilight-Between-Worlds' group.
"Before we begin the journey," Twilight-Between-Worlds said, their voice somehow managing to sound like multiple voices speaking in perfect harmony, "there are customs to be observed. You will each be offered a sip of welcome from the Cup of First Steps. This marks your formal entry into the Summer Court's protection."
Ali's hand went instinctively to her mother's bracelet, remembering the warning about food and drink. But as she watched, Frost-Over-Still-Waters produced a goblet that seemed to be carved from a single massive opal, its surface swirling with colors that matched the sunset sky. The fae guide raised the goblet to their own lips first, taking a deliberate sip before offering it to the first tribute in their group.
Relief flooded through Ali—this, at least, seemed safe according to her mother's rules. She watched carefully as the goblet made its way through the group, each tribute taking a small sip before passing it on. When it reached her, she was surprised to find that the goblet was warm to the touch, thrumming faintly like a living thing.
The liquid inside was clear but seemed to contain swirling galaxies, just like Frost-Over-Still-Waters' eyes. It tasted like nothing Ali could describe—like starlight and dawn and the first snow of winter all at once. As she swallowed, a curious warmth spread through her body, and the world around her seemed to become even more vivid, more real somehow.
"The Cup of First Steps opens your senses to our realm," Frost-Over-Still-Waters explained as the last tribute drank. "Without it, much of what you will see and experience would be... filtered through mortal limitations. This will help you better understand and navigate your time with us."
"Now," Amber-Leaves-Dancing said, "we begin the journey to the inner court. Stay close to your assigned guide. The paths we travel are not always... consistent for those unused to our ways."
As if on cue, the clearing began to shift around them. The trees that had formed its boundary started to move, their trunks twisting and weaving together to create three distinct archways. Through each arch, Ali could see a different path—one silver, one gold, one that seemed to be made of twilight itself.
Frost-Over-Still-Waters gestured toward the silver path. "Come," they said to their group of tributes. "The Summer Court awaits, and we have far to travel before the dancing lights fade."
Ali fell into step with the other tributes in her group, noting that there seemed to be about seven of them in total. As they passed through the silver arch, she felt that honey-thick sensation again, but briefer this time. When it cleared, they were walking through a landscape that defied description—floating islands of crystal connected by bridges of pure light, with what looked like schools of glowing fish swimming through the air around them.
"Keep moving," Frost-Over-Still-Waters called from the front of the group. "The path knows where we're going, even if you do not. Trust in each step, and do try not to stare too long at any one wonder. There will be time for that later."
Ali forced herself to focus on putting one foot in front of the other, though every new sight threatened to stop her in her tracks with its impossible beauty. She had a feeling this was only the beginning of the wonders—and dangers—that awaited her in the Summer Court.