“Ailith says a lot of things.”
Once we reach the second level, we turn right down a hallway plastered in yellow silk paper. “Did you spot Yakim?”
“Not yet.” Nudging my lower back, Zephyrus directs me to a door with a brass knocker. “He’s been coming to Ailith’s for the last four hundred years. I would be disappointed if he had changed his habits.” Lifting his hand, he knocks.
The door swings wide, and Ailith stands on the other side, hands on hips, the curve of her leg peeking through a slit in the tiny skirt covering her ample backside. I blink in shock. The woman’s slender ankles end in hooves.
“Why do you always fail to follow instructions?” Her smile hardens. “That was a rhetorical question, by the way.” Nonetheless, she waves us inside with a murmured, “The Blue Room.”
The space is aptly named. Silken sapphire walls. A floor patched with rugs in various shades of blue. A large window overlooks the smoking marsh, and a collection of turquoise armchairs shapes a half-moon around the fireplace.
“Please,” Ailith says, shutting the door behind us. “Take a seat.”
Zephyrus and I select two neighboring armchairs. After clearing away what appear to be financial documents spread across a low table, Ailith pours herself into the sofa across from us, her soft thighs filling the space like water in a glass. She stares at us until I begin to feel sweat prickle my hairline. In the wilds of Under, I am mortal, and I am weak.
“What can I do for you, Zephyrus?” the buxom woman purrs.
He leans back, swings an ankle up to rest on his thigh. “Does Yakim still conduct business here?”
“He does.” The click of her long, curved nail against the wooden sofa back prevents the silence from ever truly settling. “I thought you parted ways long ago.” Her gaze flicks to me, then back to Zephyrus.
“We did, but I have need of his services again.”
“Why?” The tapping pauses.
Zephyrus offers his most inviting smile. “Ailith. You know the importance of confidentiality.”
“You two did not part on good terms. Who is to say he will not seek vengeance in some way?”
“Two centuries is a long time to hold a grudge.” He shrugs. “I’m sure it will be fine.”
“Zephyrus.” Her small, pitying sound rushes forth. “The fair folk never forget.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. Ailith crosses her legs, and my attention snags on her hooves.
“I’m a faun, dear.” She winks at me. “No need to fret.”
I glance away sheepishly before my gaze finds Zephyrus. “So, whatdidyou do to Yakim?” I ask him.
My question draws Ailith’s and Zephyrus’ attention. There was a time when the West Wind would evade the subject, refusing to stepfully into the light, but I’d like to think we have become better versions of ourselves since then.
“I may have”—he lifts a hand, lips pursed with casual disregard—“swindled him out of money once or twice.”
Ailith and I share a look of wordless exasperation.
Errant conversation drifts from the level below, slipping like steam through the cracks between the floorboards. Every so often, clinking glass breaks the monotony of the muddled hum. “You ask for my cooperation,” Ailith says, “but offer me no information. How am I to know what danger you invite into my home? People depend on me for protection.”
“You have my word,” Zephyrus promises with rare solemnity. “Whatever it might be worth. I will not bring danger to those you shelter. I simply seek a meeting with Yakim, and a safe place to do so.”
“Safe? My dear, you are a fugitive.” A cool voice floats from the open doorway, and I catch sight of an equally stunning buxom woman dressed in flowing white trousers and a frilly pink blouse. Red bumps distort the complexion of her heart-shaped face.
Zephyrus nods to the newcomer stiffly. “Soria.”
Padding to the back of the sofa, the woman wraps her long arms around Ailith’s neck, propping her chin atop the faun’s head. Ailith’s wife, I presume. “All of Under is aware of your escape from the Orchid King,” Soria says. “Pierus has already placed a bounty upon your head, and there are many who wouldn’t think twice about turning you in. Wherever you go, danger will follow.”
“Be that as it may,” Zephyrus counters, “Yakim would be foolish to attempt to capture me here. Anyone would.” Reclining into the plush blue cushions, he grins lazily, no better than a cat in the sun. “A lifelong ban from the Estate is a steep price to pay. Everyone knows your drinks are the best in Under.”
Ailith preens at the compliment. Her wife, on the other hand, remains unimpressed.
