And suddenly I’m kneeling on the doorstep alone.
Every single member of my team is gone. The only sign of them is the two packs that Boulder and Maven set down.
“What… thefuck,” I whisper.
I jump up, scanning the lawn. No one is in sight.
They didn’t run off—they just vanished.
My mind immediately goes to that brief buzz in my left pocket. The only thing in there is the odd little stone Maven gave me, the one that might be for luck, strength… or making wishes.
Shit, shit, and double shit.
I made a wish while I had afuckingwishing stone in my pocket. Apparently the stone didn’t have to be in my hand in order for it to work, which seems like a foolish flaw in its design.
“No,” I breathe. “Oh no. Shit, shit, shit.”
I pull the stone out. It’s glossy black like before, except there’s a series of bright orange dots running along its surface in an endless circuit, like a snake slithering and coiling.
“I wish my team would come back,” I tell it.
No response. None of them reappear.
“Fuck,” I whisper, sinking to the ground. “Fuck me.”
What did I say? Whatexactlydid I say?
I’m perfectly capable, I just need some peace and quiet. I wish you would all go away and let me do this by myself!
I didn’t say I wished them gone forever. So maybe this isn’t permanent. Maybe, once I unlock the door of the fortress, they’ll reappear.
Stuffing the stone back in my pocket, I return to the lock. If I’m honest, itismuch easier to focus without multiple voices admonishing and advising me. I sublimate my anxiety about my crew as best I can, working my tools deftly until the lock releases and I can open the door. Since it’s a complex lock, it takes me about half an hour.
But even with the lock conquered and the door open, none of my people reappear.
Cursing loudly and propping the door with my shoulder, I pull out the stone and survey it again. This time I count the dots coiling across its surface—twenty-four in all.
Twenty-four what? Twenty-fours hours? Maybe that’s how long the wish lasts.
I could try to proceed with the heist, but I have no idea what I’ll encounter inside the fortress, and there’s no way I can carry all the loot we’d planned to gather by myself.
I could give up on the heist and go home. Maven left her bag behind with the Doras Álainn inside it, so I have the means to return to the mortal realm. But what if my team reappearsherewhen the wish expires? They’ll be stranded. I won’t do that to them.
Waiting for them looks like my only option. Which means I’ll be spending twenty-four hours in Annordun, far longer than I ever planned to spend in Faerie.
In the meantime, I should make myself useful. I can explore the fortress slowly and carefully, watching for any traps or spells. I can locate Drosselmeyer’s collection and sort through it to find the pieces that are most portable and most likely to fetch a high price.
I don’t let myself think about what I’ll do if twenty-four hours expire and my people don’t return. Maybe the stone will be ready for another request by then, and I can wish them back.
But if they’re gone—really gone—and it’s all my fault, then I will never forgive myself. They may irritate me occasionally and treat me poorly from time to time, but they’re the closest thing I have to family.
I doubt the lock I picked will re-lock on its own if the front door closes, but I’m not taking any chances. Using my own pack as a temporary doorstop, I dart over and pick up the packs Scriv and Maven left behind. They’re purposely light to leave room for treasure, so even though it’s a little unwieldy carrying those bags along with my own, it’s not overly burdensome.
With no other choice but to keep moving, I forge through the door and breach the inner keep.
I’m not sure what I expected from the interior of Annordun, but it certainly wasn’t the elegant warmth of a mansion. The walls are paneled in a rich wood that seems to have gold sparkles embedded in it, like flecks of shiny sand, while gold eyes wink open and shut along the ceiling. The carpet running down thehallway before me is scarlet and luxuriously thick. In alcoves along the corridor stand urns overflowing with flowers, their hues so brilliant and their beauty so divine that for a moment I’m dazed by the sight of them.
Maven always told me that Faerie was a place of strange beauty, of loveliness that could overpower the human mind. So far, Annordun has been more daunting than dazzling, but these blooms give me a taste of what she meant. I only wish she could see them.
