“Fine,” Dylan huffed just as the elevator dinged its arrival. “I don't have time to argue with you, I've already had hours stolen from me dealing with this gargantuan gaggle of deportees you've brought me. I do have to run a company, you realize?”
“Yes, Uncle Dylan,” I rolled my eyes, used to his complaints. “And we're very grateful for all of your help.”
“As you should be,” he nodded and tapped the button for the thirty-third floor.
It was the top floor and all it held were two offices; one for Dylan and one for my father, though my father was rarely there. Half of the floor went to Dylan and the other half to my father, with the elevators and a reception area between them. There was a single secretary sitting at a desk in this reception area, placed facing the elevators with the office doors to either side of her. So I assumed that Dylan shared her with my father as well.
The secretary smiled brightly at us as we stepped out of the elevator but didn't say a word when we walked by, just returned to her typing. Efficient and quiet; my uncle probably loved that. I gave her a little wave as we passed and she inclined her head in a bow, just as proper as my uncle was.
Dylan's office was decorated to resemble the Unseelie Forest, with a detailed mural of the forest painted over the walls. The furniture was all dark wood, carved to fit in with the theme, and several potted plants also helped with the illusion. But the large windows ruined the effect, showcasing a splendid view of San Francisco that was at odds with the fey woods.
“It's through here,” Dylan placed his hand against the trunk of a painted tree and pushed. A panel in the wall pivoted and revealed a hallway. We started to follow him through but he glanced back. “That's far enough, Count Tiernan. You may wait in my office. I won't allow a member of the Wild Hunt to enter my inner sanctum.”
“I understand,” Tiernan nodded and backed into the office but Cat stayed by my side.
The panel pivoted closed behind us and Dylan led me down the narrow passage, past several rooms furnished luxuriously. I spotted a library, a living room, and a kitchen, which confirmed my suspicion that my Uncle Dylan lived at Gentry. Then I followed him into a simple room with only a small table and a few chairs in it. The table was set in the center of the room and a large crystal ball was placed on top of it, held by an elaborate stand of gold thorny vines.
“Would you like some privacy?” Dylan offered.
“No, it's fine, you can stay,” I took a seat in front of the crystal and Dylan sat beside me. “King Keir Bloodthorn of Twilight,” I called out as I touched the crystal.
Crystal balls are used by fairies as a form of communication. They're kind of like Skype; you connect with someone and get to see them as you speak with them. In this case, the image appears in the center of a crystal ball and the process is called scrying.
The center of the ball filled with mist and it stayed that way for a little while. I knew that on the other side of this connection, my father's crystal ball was emitting a chiming sound in an attempt to catch his attention. It would continue to chime until he came to answer my call or until I gave up. Pretty much like a telephone except crystal balls didn't have answering machines. If he wasn't in the castle, the call would go to any crystal ball in close proximity to him. If he wasn't close to any, the ball would remain clear on my end. But he was there and he answered at last.
“Seren,” his fair face came into focus. “You made a wise decision, sending the raven mockers here. Have they all crossed over safely?”
“They have,” I assured him. “And I'm glad you agree with me but there's something I hadn't considered.”
“Criarachan,” Keir nodded. “I've sent a group of soldiers out to watch over the village. The other group that was sent to meet the raven mockers, will escort everyone to Criarachan and the mockers can remain there with their kin. I think they'll be more comfortable with family than at the castle.”
“Well, never mind then,” I chuckled. “You're a step ahead of me.”
“I've had years of practice,” Keir smirked but then sobered. “Do you truly believe they're innocent?”
“I'm almost completely sure of it,” I nodded.
“Almost?” Keir lifted a deep purple brow.
“Well, there's always the possibility that I'm wrong,” I shrugged as Dylan snorted. I gave him a nasty glare before continuing. “I believe Rayetayah is telling the truth as he knows it but perhaps one of his people is betraying him.”
“We'll find the truth,” Keir sighed. “I have faith in you and until you do discover who is behind this, I'll watch over the flock.”
“Thanks, Dad,” I smiled. “Oh one more thing; do you think I should scry King Uisdean and ask him to notify Lord Raza that his son is involved in this?”
“Raza,” Keir mused. “He's unpredictable and may react badly but courtesy dictates that he be informed. As a father, I know I'd want to be told if you were in danger and I know I'd be enraged if someone kept the information from me. So, yes,” he nodded decisively. “I think you should tell him.”
“Alright, I'll scry Uisdean next,” I swallowed hard.
“I love you, Seren,” Keir touched the crystal and I laid my fingertips over his.
“I love you too, Dad,” I closed the connection and his image faded away.
“Would you like me to scry Uisdean for you?” Dylan offered gently.
I looked over to him in surprise, “No but thank you. I'm sure that conversation would be more uncomfortable for you than for me.”
Uncle Dylan was born unseelie, brother to my Uncle Uisdean and heir to Uisdean's throne. But Dylan abdicated his position and aligned himself with Twilight, choosing to work for his half-brother in HR instead of live a life of luxury as the heir of Unseelie. I think Uisdean viewed Dylan as a traitor. Yet despite all that, Dylan retained his title and was given all the respect a Duke of Fairy deserved. I assumed there was more to the story than I'd been told.
