“How many?” The voice is suspicious.
“Thirty-three.”
Silence.
A cart passes in the narrow lane behind me, and I see a few other fae making their way toward this door.
“Come.” The door swings open, and I step inside. It’s brighter here than on the shaded stoop, the skylights above flung open as I walk along a short corridor.
“You’re new.” A redcap, bristling in aggression, points the way. “On the left.”
“Who’s that?” a pixie whispers as she lands on his shoulder.
“New. But he knew the way, the code.” The redcap grunts and returns to his spot by the door.
If this negotiation fails, the redcap will be the first one to strike. I can already tell he’s formidable, the cap tucked into his pocket stained crimson from all his victims.
“Mind yourself.” The pixie flutters by, distrust in her tone.
I enter a long room that runs the length of the dusty warehouse. A few busted crates are stacked along one side, and almost a dozen lesser fae and changelings are seated on low benches or leaning against the wall and chatting. They quiet when I walk in. Not good.
Trying to remain nonchalant, I pull up a crate and sit.
“New?” A changeling elbows the lesser fae beside him.
“Mmhmm.” I nod.
“I thought we weren’t admitting anyone else here. Too dangerous.” The lesser fae stands, her horns tangled atop her head. “Who invited you? Show yourself.”
Lunarie didn’t specify how to address this. She assumed I’d blend in. I suppose that was a rather foolish idea, as now I’m faced with a room full of suspicious faces, with a few more trickling in.
“I was sent by Lunarie.”
That was the wrong answer.
The entire room stands and pulls weapons. A blade is pressed to my throat as one of them yanks my hood away.
“By the Ancestors.” The horned fae’s complexion pales as she looks up at me. “It’s the king! Run!” She darts back and pockets her blade.
“No! Wait!” I block the exit with a sheet of molten sun.
One of them lunges for me, his blade aimed for my chest. I dodge, and then someone tackles him.
“You can’tkillhim!”
“Everyone, calm!” I raise my hands, two glowing orbs of sunlight in them. “Sit down. All of you. I did not come here to harm you.” Slowly, I lower my hands and extinguish the flames on the doorway. “I was telling the truth when I said Lunarie sent me.”
“Where is she?” A lesser fae pushes to the front, her big eyes narrowed on me.
“Brunilla?”
She nods, a blade in each of her four palms. “You’ve found us out. Now tell me what you’ve done to Lunarie.” Her voice quavers the slightest bit, her teary eyes magnified through the round lenses of her spectacles.
“She is safe. Right now she’s at the Shard trying to save Emma, my mate.”
“Emma?” The artist lowers her blades. “Emma has returned?”
“I rescued her from the Nightkeep, from Eraldon. She slumbers.” I ignore the slice through my heart, the pain that I fear will never lessen. “An unnatural sleep. One that I hope Lunarie can break.”
