“Withholding information helps no one, least of all who we are trying to find. The Dominion Sect stole our Summer Lady from within the boundaries of our territory. Magic got them in and out.”
“Wouldn’t all of your guards have sensed human magic? The base structure is completely different from your own.”
“The magic they used was not theirs, but fae.”
“You think you have a traitor in your midst?”
“Some believe so. I am more apt to believe the Queen of Air and Darkness gave them aid of some sort.” Tiarnán nodded at Deirdre. “Show them.”
Deirdre pulled a compact mirror out of the purse nestled between her feet. She flicked the compact open with her thumb, and the soft glow that emanated from it told Jono it wasn’t used for makeup. She passed it over to Patrick, who took it and angled the compact so both he and Jono could look into the beveled crystal set inside.
“Scrying crystal,” Patrick said with a soft whistle. “These go for a fortune on the black market.”
“No stealing,” Jono said.
“I’m not Wade.”
Fog filtered over the crystal before clearing. The figures on horseback trotted down a forest path that looked like no forest Jono had ever seen. The colors of the leaves and flowers on either side of the path were more vibrant than anything found on Earth. The view bounced around, the shakiness caused by the horse the rider who carried the receiving scrying crystal rode.
Jono could see three riders who were decked out in armor that wouldn’t look out of place in a museum dedicated to medieval knights. Only the armor design was far more intricate than what humans had worn in the past, interspaced with leather tunics and pants of an unknown uniform. The clothing and armor all had sigils painted on them that reminded him of the ones the Wild Hunt’s lead rider had carried.
The guards escorted a slim young lady riding a large stag instead of a horse. She looked completely out of place in modern-day clothing against the strange, ethereal scenery. Her thick red-orange hair was tied back in a braid that reached her waist. She looked over her shoulder at her rearguards, mouth opening to ask a question.
The words never came.
What looked like black lightning cut between trees to slam into all four guards, throwing them off their horses. The scenery spun, treetops and the sky creating a sickening blur of color across the crystal. When the motion stopped, all Jono could make out was dirt and the body of a dead horse.
“I wouldn’t, my dear,” someone warned beyond the scope of the scrying crystal’s visual range, their voice making Patrick tense up. It took a moment for Jono to remember the bloke, because he’d been at Ethan’s mercy more than Zachary Myers’ last summer.
“Don’t call medear.”
A pair of feet clad in combat boots filled the view before the heavy butt of a rifle slammed down on the crystal and everything went dark. Fog filled the scrying crystal before the moment caught in time started up again.
Patrick closed the compact and handed it back to Deirdre, face devoid of all emotion. “I know who took her.”
Tiarnán blinked at him, the only hint of surprise Jono could parse from his body language. “That is unexpected.”
“I’d know Zachary Myers’ voice anywhere. He’s Ethan Greene’s right-hand acolyte.”
Deirdre paused in putting the compact away in her purse. She glanced up through her lashes at them, but the look wasn’t flirtatious in any way. “What does the Dominion Sect want with the Summer Lady?”
“Aside from the obvious?” Patrick leaned back in his seat, jaw tight. “Your Summer Lady is immortal, isn’t she?”
Tiarnán nodded slowly. “She is.”
“Which means she carries a godhead.”
Jono swore. “It always comes back to that, doesn’t it? Ethan wanting a bloody godhead.”
“Mortals cannot carry a godhead,” Tiarnán said.
Patrick’s expression never changed. “Sure.”
“Why would Ethan work with the Unseelie Court?” Jono asked.
“Same reason he works with Hades.” Patrick gave a stiff shrug. “Power.”
Jono knew it was more than that, but he wasn’t about to give up that information. It wasn’t his story to tell, and he knew better than to give the fae more than they asked for. Partners or not, the fae weren’t to be trusted.
