"Doc Jolly," Florian answered, after swallowing a mouthful of hash. "He's a family friend, used to be a stable hand for the old king of Verinia. Now he owns a horse farm down across the fairy road. You'll like him, I think."

Though he was starving, August ate slowly, and he kept an eye on Coralie who seemed to be immensely offended that the food she had slaved to prepare was going to feed a liar and a murderer. She kept squeezing the handle of a knife as if she were imagining what it might feel like to plunge it into his heart. He wasn't even sure what he'd done to personally offend her.

Once breakfast was cleaned up, the dwarves each shouldered a pack, the biggest sack was given to August (Coralie insisted on bringing her favorite frying pan) and the troupe set off single file along a thin path between the boulders and trees, led by Alphonse and his feathered hat.

"Mind the Jockal," Alphonse whispered loudly.

The forest buzzed, clinked and whirred, full of life now that the queen was nowhere nearby. As they delved further into Verinia, the trees and the vines were greener, the flowers brighter, and the animals just a little more curious. Dorothea yelped when a yellow fuzzy monkey-squirrel pulled her tail -- after that she rode on Sam's shoulder, keeping watch ahead.