“Llandovery.”
“Isn’t that a place in Wales? Princess May is Japanese, so how could she have—” I shake my head. “No, no. Nix the story time, Bulan. We can talk about this later. First things first: we’ve got to save Hanry.”
“Oh, your lover boy.” Bulan’s brows knit as I pick him up and resettle him atop my hand-embroidered silk duvet. “That’s fine, Sabby. I don’t need a body, anyway. It’s highly overrated. What’s Hanry doing here?”
“To put it simply, he was adopted by fairy royalty. Making him a fairy prince.”
“Obviously. But what’s he doing home?”
I stare at Bulan; he stares back. This is so goddamn unbelievable; I throw up my hands. “Did everyone know he was a fairy prince except me?”
“He was pretty open about it,” says Mandy.
Bulan nods himself at her. “Yes, yes. His wood carvings were of well-known fairy tales. Sabby, did you truly not notice the whole Community referring to him as a prince? At any point?”
I choose to ignore their insults. “Bulan, if you knew that Hanry was goddamn royalty, why did you say he shouldn’t be in the castle? Isn’t this his home?”
“Changelings who come of age always spend a year in the human world. To test it out, in case they like it more than their home. Hanry seemed satisfied in Salem. I thought he might not return.”
I tap my foot thoughtfully. “So why’d he end his fay Rumspringa?”
“Maybe hewassatisfied in the human world until you left?” Mandy suggests. A few crows caw in either agreement, hunger, or a longing for plastic baubles.
“Unlikely,” I say. “Hanry wouldn’t even sleep with me.”
Bulan coughs into his beard. “No wonder you’ve been so prickly.”
“Stuff it, Bulan. This isn’t about me. This is about Hanry. And our rescue mission.”
“How are we supposed to rescue him from his own wedding?” asks Mandy.
I take a deep breath. Here goes nothing. “By taking a page out of his adopted mother’s playbook,” I say. “And the pooka’s. We’re going to sabotage it.”
Bulan’s gasp comes out like a croak. Mandy throws her head back with a wail.
“No, no! Sabby, all this work for nothing!?”
“Yeah, I know it’s a shame, but—”
“Think what it will do to your reputation,” Bulan adds. “A wedding planner who becomes a wedding disaster planner. It would be a travesty!”
I huff. Am I the only one here who finds it problematic to forcepeople into matrimony? Apparently so. Am I alone in being pummeled, against my will, with worries about Hanry? I’ve got to figure out where he is. We’ve got to help him. And he better be conscious when we find him, because there’s no way I’ll be able to drag his six-five, two-hundred-whatever-pound body out of this castle on my own.
The lone bat of our gathered crew of would-be heisters picks itself off the floor, and taking wing, flaps around my head aggressively.
“Stop that,” I say, batting the flying mammal away. “Transform already if you want to speak.”
The bat lands, and with apop, Dark Dave sprawls into existence, his hands covering his eyes.
“I hate transforming after a feeding,” he moans. “Also, the candles! There are too many candles in here!”
Mandy, sniffling, assists me in helping him off the floor. “There, there,” she says. “We can blow some out.”
“No blowing out the candles. And sorry, Dave,” I say, “But humans don’t understand echolocation. I need you in not-bat form if I’m going to hear your point of view.”
He moans feebly.
“Also, thanks for pausing your honeymoon to help out.”
