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“Kit.” Ty let his head fall onto Kit’s shoulder. “Don’t ask me. Not now.”

Kit had a feeling he knew what had caused Ty’s collapse, but he wasn’t going to press him right now. He looked down at the pale nape of Ty’s neck, feeling Ty’s breath against his skin. He wanted desperately to wrap his arms around Ty and press the two of them together so tightly that he could breathe for Ty. Give him his strength, somehow, as Alec had once done for Magnus.

But it was impossible. Whatever magic Kit had, it didn’t respond to orders.

“All right,” Kit whispered. “Let me get my stele.”

Ty lifted his head as Kit reached for his weapons belt. Just then, a flicker of movement caught Kit’s eye, near the copse of oak trees. Not again, he thought despairingly, not more monsters.

But Ty was smiling, more with his eyes than his mouth, and Kit turned to see that the movement was Livvy, her dress fluttering around her. And behind her, still draped in purple silk, was Hyacinth. Her eyes widened as she took in the destruction—the scattered bones, the remains of the dullahans, and the two boys clinging to each other as if they’d just survived a shipwreck.

“Holy crap,” she said, sounding very human. “What happened?”

—

The faerie guards didn’t speak as they marched Dru along the edge of the forest, presumably in the direction of the Seelie Court. They hadn’t chained her up, or even touched her, but it was nevertheless clear she was a prisoner. That didn’t seem like a reason not to make conversation, though.

“Look,” Dru said, half stumbling over a tree root. “I feel bad for you guys, getting dragged away from the revel. I’m sure you’d rather be there than here, am I right?”

One of the guards shot her a sideways look through the holes of his mask, but none of them spoke. They seemed faceless in their silver masks, which reached from forehead to chin. The mouths of the masks were canted slightly at an odd angle, as if they were snarling.

“I’ve got an idea,” she continued brightly. “Why don’t you go back to the revel, have a little wine, show off your cool masks. And I can escort myself back to the Seelie Court.”

More silence. Tough crowd, Dru thought.

At last one spoke, but not to her. “The Queen said she would be difficult.”

“I’m not difficult,” Dru objected. “I’m very friendly.”

“If I strike her, will she be silent?” asked the tallest of the guards.

“You know, being hit generally makes me more talkative,” Dru said, in as thoughtful a tone as she could manage. “Just one of those odd things about mortals, I guess.”

“If you strike her, the Prince may well be angry,” said another guard. This one had a low, hissing voice. “She is his special pet.”

“Pets are meant to charm and comfort,” said the third guard. “I do not see how this Shadowhunter could accomplish that.”

“Her flesh is bounteous and curved,” said the tallest guard. “Perhaps that is the attraction.”

“I am literally right here,” Dru said. “Enough about my bountiful whatevers.”

“Is that what you call them?” said the hissing guard, with some interest.

Dru rolled her eyes and kept walking. The trees loomed close on either side, their bark pale as bone in the moonlight. A hill rose ahead like a great sleeping beast, its slope dotted with glowing fungi and silver-leaved shrubs. At the base of the hill, the ground fell away into a deep-cut stairwell, arched over by gnarled roots. The guards stopped.

A figure waited there, hands folded in front of her, her expression carefully blank.

“Elara,” Dru said in surprise.

“I am the Shadowhunter’s handmaiden,” Elara said, stepping forward with a quiet authority that Dru hadn’t seen her display before. “I will escort her from here. The Queen has given orders,” she added, looking stern; the guards exchanged glances before shrugging. They turned and vanished into the trees with a rustle of leaves and steel.

“Did the Queen really give orders for you to escort me?” Dru asked, as Elara took her by the elbow and hurried her down the root-covered stairway toward a pair of arched doors set directly into the side of the hill.

“No,” Elara said. “But I did not state that she had. I merely said the Queen has given orders, and I am sure she has given many orders through her life. Nothing about the statement was untrue.”

“It’s quite a talent you have,” Dru said, as they passed through the door. Elara shut it behind them, sliding a carved plank of wood into place to bar the entrance. “Lying without really lying.”

“A talent those who can lie easily never need to develop,” said Elara tartly. “Though I think often that they should. It can be very useful.”