“Iron.”
“We got any of that?”
“No.”
“Well, shit.”
“You will be safe,” Sariel assured him. “I will not let anyone harm you.” He tilted his head. “You must remember not to eat ordrink anything while we are there. I would also suggest choosing your words very carefully. The fae can and will use anything you say against you.”
“What do you mean?”
“How do you think they were able to find you so quickly?”
“Eh?”
“Absolis and Vilanos Mostro. The fae princes.” Sariel made a slight face. “They indicated to Mr. Heiss they had met you, albeit briefly.”
Seymour thought back to the two men he’d nearly run over. “Uh-huh. And what do they look like?”
“They usually present themselves as human. Beautiful humans.”
“Super fancy ones with, like, matching outfits and flowers?”
“Yes, I believe so.”
“Yeah.” Seymour cringed. “Okay. I think I know ’em. I’m sure they’ll be delighted to see me again. But what does that have to do with talkin’?”
“Neil once told them to take a picture of him in a rather sarcastic manner. This, however, gave them the freedom to look in on Neil whenever they wish. This is how they knew about you.”
“If they wanted me so bad, why didn’t they just grab me then?”
“They were in Lou’s territory.”
“These big ol’ bad faeries are afraid of a werewolf?”
“No. They fear the power of the Reliquary.”
“Right. Of course. Our good buddy Norbert made some badass stuff. Got it.” Seymour adjusted the collar of his T-shirt. It was damp with sweat which was not surprising, given the rigors of recent events. “Reckon there ain’t a way to change this?”
“Change?” Sariel tilted his head back the other way. “What do you wish to change it into?”
“Never mind.” Seymour picked up one of the tickets. “So, we, uh, just wave this around or what? Is there a chocolate waterfall in our future?”
“No. When you are ready, you simply rub it between your hands.” Sariel demonstrated with the other ticket and then promptly vanished.
“Fuck, that’s freaky.” Seymour took a deep breath and placed the ticket between his palms. “Ready or not, here goes somethin’.”
Sure.
Take the magical ticket to some club owned by a bunch of fae.
Yup, totally fine.
What was the worst that could happen?
Seymour rubbed his hands together and tried to brace himself for whatever was coming but found it was unnecessary. The magical transportation happened as quickly and smoothly as blinking. One second he was standing in Sariel’s home and the next…
He was in a giant field of luminous indigo flowers, staring up at a giant circus tent. Its stripes were black and white, and it was absolutely monstrous. Its multiple towering peaks were so great they nearly blocked out the night sky glittering above, and Seymour inhaled shakily.
