I pointed in awe. “Holy Fairy. Is that a clean spot?”
“No, the raccoon pissed there,” King Elon hissed.
I sniffed. I wasn’t falling for that again.
“I wasn’t jesting. It truly is piss.”
My nose scrunched.Gross.
“There…is a place we can stay,” Queen Mikko said slowly. “It will have more room.”
King Traevon turned his head to look at her in our tight group. “Why do you sound hesitant?”
“Because we would be sleeping in the crypts.”
I blinked. “No.”
“Yes,” King Athon growled. He marched toward the corner of the room—two steps—and squatted. The shifter king grabbed the raccoon by the scruff of his neck and lifted him into his arms. “I’m saving this poor bastard, too.”
* * *
Statues rising into the night sky stared down on me.
I asked softly, “Who lies here?”
“It is the original caster,” Queen Mikko stated coolly, no warmth in her voice. She spread her arms out wide. “And his favorite lovers.”
His love slaves. The innocent casters he had used his royal charmpower on to slake his lusts, forever binding them to him in carnal slavery.
The original caster deserved to burn again and again…
For eternity.
My features remained blank, not allowing any thoughts to show on my face. “I am sorry we had to come here, Your Royal Highness.”
She grunted. “Nevertheless, it will be our shelter.”
“I’ll relieve Queen Alora from her post at Kera’s hostel,” King Elon hissed. “I will inform her where to come.”
“Tell her we will be where the original caster’s tomb is.” The Queen of Casters stalked forward toward the statues, her back as stiff as her tone. “It’s obvious which one it is.”
The King of Gorgons nodded, and walked away into the dark.
King Athon placed the raccoon on the ground and lightly bopped his butt, whispering, “Go on now. Flee this wretched place.”
The furry critter was smart. He quickly scampered off.
I wished I could go with him.
My father waited until I moved, walking with me, his presence a strength I needed at my side as the stairs at the base of the original caster’s statue came into view—the caster queen already walking down them.
King Traevon asked gently, “Are you all right, my daughter?”
“I don’t want to go in there.” I raised my chin and sniffed. “The doss-house was better than this.”
King Athon stepped in line with us, walking slowly. He wiggled his nose—pointedly. “There were dead bodies there.”
“There are dead bodies here,” I griped.
