“I guess I made them upset,” I called.
“I’d say you did more than that.”
Mission accomplished.
I wanted the Fae angry. Even better if they were enraged. Angry people made mistakes.
Movement out of the corner of my eye drew my attention to the trees.
I nearly stumbled as one of the assassins burst out of a tree trunk parallel to us. He took three steps before diving into the next tree trunk and emerging ten feet away through a ripple in another tree.
“How are they doing that?” I gasped in amazement.
They were practically teleporting from tree to tree. Moving in and out like the wood was a portal of some type.
“They’re the Luigseach. They can use the trees to travel,” he said.
“Any trees?” I asked.
“Yes.”
What a frightful power.
Good thing for us, the water gardens weren’t far now. While there were still trees, they weren’t as plentiful and were much thinner and frailer than the ones the Fae were currently using to hop-scotch after us.
“Do you think this counts as evidence of the Playground’s owner choosing a side?” I asked.
It was awful convenient, the boundary shifting. When I factored in that the climate right outside the bar heavily favored our enemies, it was easy to draw certain conclusions. Like the fact this place wasn’t quite so neutral anymore.
“It depends,” Anton said as we reached the edge of the water gardens.
“On?”
I dodged around a small brook, heading for several half-submerged stones and using them to cross to the mossy bank on the other side. Anton leapt right over the narrow space, landing on the opposite bank with plenty of clearance.
He cast a glance behind us to check on our pursuers. They weren’t far, mere moments behind us as they broke through the trees and raced past the boundary of the water gardens.
By unspoken agreement, Anton and I got moving again.
This time it was more difficult. The need for maneuverability outweighing the desire for speed. The only consolation was that the Fae behind us faced the same obstacles.
“On whether the Summer King has entered the fray,” Anton said, returning to our conversation.
I shot him a glance before I was forced to devote all my attention on where I was going. We jogged down a gravel pathbordered by lush plants. Statues of women and men in wet looking clothes that clung to their curves, highlighting what was beneath, stood in the small brook we were following. Their dead eyes seemed to follow us.
A Fae assassin lunged out of one of the few trees big enough to support his passage.
I ducked his first swipe, blocking his second. Then Anton was there, ripping out the Fae’s esophagus and discarding him into the bushes by the side.
“You have a real penchant for ripping throats out,” I observed.
First the Fae in the bar. Now this one. I was starting to see a pattern.
“Are you done?” Anton inquired. “Can we go?”
I nodded.
Arrows thunked into the tree the Fae had come out of, just barely missing my head.
