Leonard flips open the spreadsheet Marcus insisted on keeping. I hated the idea before, but now? It’s a relief to see the names organized and cross-referenced. For all the disdain I had for Marcus and keeping his nose in books, I see the merit now.
“No,” Min says, eyes glinting, “but I might know someone who can help.”
“Really?” I ask. “Who?”
“My great-great-great-uncle-in-law.”
Marcus and I exchange a look. “Huh?” we say in unison.
She waves a dismissive hand. “Belvedere.”
“Oh, right!” I’d heard of this infamous Belvedere but never actually met him. “And who does Belvedere know that can help us?”
“It’s not who he knows. It’s what he knows. He’s an immortal trickster. Knows enough about magic to fell a kingdom, but at the heart of it, he’s just a giant goof who loves mischief. If anyone can help us, he’s definitely the one.
I sigh. “All right. It’s about time I got to meet him in person.”
Belvedere agreed to help,and even made a glamour for the pixies posted outside to stand guard so everything appeared normal to them. Min tossed a handful of glittering sugar crystals to keep them busy while he put the glamour in place—which he could do even without being anywhere near them—as we slipped past. A small part of me felt bad about ditching them. They’ll no doubt get in trouble for letting us escape, but it isn’t my problem they’re so easily distracted with being compelled to count each granule of sugar. I just hope the glamour on the council works just as well.
After about two hours of travel, followed by another forty-five minutes on a potholed dirt road, we arrive at the edge of a forest. There’s no visible entrance. Just a wall of overgrown bushes that look suspiciously like poison ivy but smell sweet, like jasmine.
“Are you sure your great-great-great-uncle-in-law hasn’t moved?” I mutter.
“No, he’s still here,” Min insists. “Just give me a second.” She pulls her phone out of her pocket and dials. “Belvedere, it’s Minerva, let us in!”
A voice that sounds more like it’s coming from the hedge than the phone rumbles back. “Password?”
Min groans. “Not saying that.”
“Then you’re not getting in.”
“Belvedere, stop messing around, you know it’s me!”
“One can never be too careful, my dear.”
Min rolls her eyes. “Fine. Ugh, I can’t believe I’m doing this.” She clears her throat and mumbles, “I like big dicks and I cannot lie.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t hear you.” Belvedere replies.
“Ugh, fine. I like big dicks and I cannot lie!” Min yells.
The three of us burst out laughing as Min turns a deep shade of crimson. “Just you wait,” she mutters. “You’ll see. And when he starts his tricks on you, I don’t want to hear it.”
I put my arm around Min’s shoulders and give her a squeeze. “We’re just messing with you. Ignore us, okay?”
She grumbles something unintelligible, and I give her another squeeze.
The bushes shimmer, parting with a ripple of iridescent light. We take the narrow path, which winds toward a cottage of purple stone, smoke curling from its chimney. The front door bursts open with theatrical flair, and Belvedere struts out.
A paisley robe swirls around him like peacock feathers, his hair sculpted into backward-sweeping horns—one orange, one yellow. Glitter is dusted over them so they sparkle in the light. His eyelids shimmer with butterfly-wing eye shadow, lashes tipped in gold. He spreads his arms like he’s about to take a bow on stage.
“Minerva, darling!” he exclaims.
She barely makes it out of the car before he sweeps her up and spins her around like she weighs nothing. He plants a noisy kiss on her cheek, then turns his gaze on Marcus and me.
“Well, fuck me purple,” he breathes, fanning himself with one hand. “Min, you wicked little brat, you didn’t tell me you were bringing dessert.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
