“Ready?” I held an arm out to my mate.
She took it, her chin lifted high. “As ever. See you two soon.”
“If anyone passes by, ask for the best inn,” I directed Caelo.
“I can already taste the ale,” my friend replied with a wink.
Arm in arm, Neve and I swept through the front door of the coinary into a long, white hallway that led to a bustling antechamber. On either side, leprechauns worked at desks. Each desk looked the same, with a small golden cauldron on the right corner filled with false gold. Like other coinaries, the leprechauns wore a green tunic, black pants, and shiny black shoes. The air smelled like all coinaries: dry and like the very metal coins the leprechauns kept in vaults. An area their kind called The Below.
A leprechaun with a long red beard appeared at our side. As expected, he was small, the top of his head coming up to Neve’s hip. “Are you a new client, withdrawing, in need of a loan, or entering your vault?”
“I wish to make a withdrawal,” I said.
Seeing as I was not in Avaldenn, and I would not be staying long enough for leprechauns to transport any valuables through their internal networks, entering my vault would be pointless. Only the coinage, which they kept books on, was accessible to me.
“Very well,” the small fae replied, his narrow-set eyes blinking. “Follow me.”
We walked through the line of desks, and no onebothered to look up from whatever business they were undergoing.
“This is stunning,” Neve whispered.
I followed her gaze up to the many antler chandeliers holding a dozen flaming candles each. The antlers gleamed so bone-pale they might have been taken from a white hart—the animal symbol of my mother’s house. However, to kill the white hart spelled death to the hunter, so I guessed that they’d come from a regular stag and had been enchanted to look like the more majestic creature.
“This is Coinmaster Hyknas. She will help you today.” Our escort stopped at the desk on the far side of the room.
“Thank you,” said Hyknas, a female of her kind shorter than the rest, but with a stern face that hinted she was not one to be trifled with. “I have it from here.”
The escort left, leaving us before Hyknas and with mere seconds of anonymity left.
“What may I do for you today?” Hyknas pulled at the hem of her green tunic.
“My wife and I wish to make a withdrawal,” I said, clarifying our union.
“Very well. Place your hand on this cauldron.”
I extended my right hand, calling up my magic as I did so. The Coinmasters used this same enchanted object in all their coinaries to identify clients. As long as the fae had opened an account with the leprechauns, the cauldron could name a fae with the smallest speck of magic. The moment I touched the cauldron, I felt an odd tug beneath the skin of my palm. The object taking an inventory of my magic. An inhale of breath told me the leprechaun had read my name, magically scrawled on the other side of the cauldron.
“Prince Vale Aaberg.” Hyknas looked up from the golden pot and stood, only to fall back into a curtsey, “Apologies, I did not recognize you. Nor did I know that the Courting Festival was over, and you were traveling the southlands.” Her dark eyes glinted with excitement when they skirted over Neve.
I didn’t bother to correct her assumption that the Courting Festival had finished. It might have, but I doubted so. As Roar’s family had once possessed the Ice Scepter, Father would find nothing about the missing Hallows from the nobles at court—though he did not know that. And until he did, or until he ran out of matches to make, the Festival would continue.
“This must be the new princess,” Hyknas added. “Apologies that you were not greeted as such.”
I refrained from sighing. “We’re only here for the night. Now, might I withdraw from my account?”
“Of course.” Hyknas sat back down and pulled up the ledger enchanted to perform accounting between all coinaries in the kingdom. My name had appeared on the parchment the moment I touched the cauldron, and it was only a matter of time before the entire coinary spoke our names, followed by the village, the westernlands, and, soon enough, King Magnus too. “How much would you like to withdraw, Prince Vale?”
The Frozen Toes Inn boasted lodgings on the top floor, a tavern on the bottom, ale as cold as a mage’s touch, and warmed, spiced wine so excellent it would thaw a frost giant. Already the tavern set itself apart with lively music and dancing.
From where we sat at a table large enough for six, it was all too easy to hear thatwewere the primary topic of interest. I leaned back in the wooden chair, indulging in the feel of the hearth fire at my back.
I had not bothered asking the leprechauns to stay quiet, knowing that someone, somehow, would leak the information, and it would spread like wildfire. Better that it looks like we weren’t hiding, even if we were trying to escape the notice of so much.
Hiding from the Red Assassins.
From the king’s anger at our disappearance.
From the truth of our identities. The moment that news got out, it would change all I’d ever known.
