by Emma Savant
“We’re going!” a child’s voice called back. It dissolved into giggles and then a scream, and the footsteps pounded back the way they’d come.
The woman gave us a long-suffering grimace.
“Excuse me, I have to go murder my children,” she said. “There’s food in the kitchen. Please, eat.”
She took the stairs two at a time. I glanced over at Alec. He didn’t laugh—we were still too caught up in the kidnappings for that—but he did smirk in a way that got under my skin.
“That’s Nancy,” he said. “She was my foster mom for a year after I left the pack.”
I took another step into the home, noting the red velvet curtains at the living room windows and the gleaming bronze chandelier that hung above us.
“You lived here?”
“Lucky me, huh?”
I didn’t know about lucky. It looked like a good place to take in a cabaret or get your fortune told, not like a house. But Alec seemed comfortable here, and he traipsed into the kitchen with me on his heels.
The kitchen island’s surface, a brown marble threaded with gold, was covered with the leftovers from a recent dinner. A plastic sippy cup half full of milk suggested at least one of the kids who lived here wasn’t much older than Sakura or Coralie. My heart twisted in my chest.
“All signs point to tuna casserole,” Alec said, lifting a sheet of tinfoil from a casserole dish. “You hungry?”
I hadn’t gotten to eat before the crisis had hit, and I realized with a sudden pang that I could devour twenty tuna casseroles and still have room for dessert. I nodded at him and slid onto one of the tufted leather barstools beside the island.
We ate in silence while I surveyed the kitchen. It was full of the ordinary countertop clutter of most kitchens: junk mail, an open box of cereal, and a blender with the lid missing. A few small toy cars were scattered across the island, and Alec pushed one back and forth absently on the countertop while he ate. I inhaled my food and, when I hesitated at taking seconds, Alec pushed the casserole dish toward me.
“She’ll be thrilled if you finish it all,” he said. “Her youngest kid has been refusing to eat anything but dry ramen noodles for like two weeks now, and she’s starting to take it personally.”
A while later, Nancy came back into the kitchen. A strand of blonde hair had fallen out of her bun, and she smiled grimly at Alec.
“They’re in bed,” she said. “They’re pretending to be asleep. It’s very convincing.”
She stood on the other side of the island and cleaned up while she spoke.
“So what brings you here tonight?” She shot Alec an incisive glance. “This isn’t a social call.”
“Sorry.”
She waved a hand at him. “It’s fine, you’re busy with your fancy design studio and your sexy wolf pack and your—” She paused and looked me over. “Girlfriend?”
“Nope,” I said, too quickly, and went back to my tuna casserole.
Nancy shrugged and kept clearing the counters. “Your not-girlfriend, then. Well, I’m glad you’re busy. We little people don’t need attention.”
Alec snorted. “Come on, Nance.”
“No, it’s fine, it’s fine, nobody here’s been missing you.”
She winked at me and dumped a few dishes in the sink.
I finished clearing my plate and handed it to her. She turned on the faucet and squirted a bright purple jet of soap into the sink. A stream of hot water poured from the faucet, accompanied by billowing steam.
The sink sprang to life in an instant. Acting on its own, the water shifted the plates around in the suds, and the steam formed hands that lifted the plates from the suds and rinsed them under the jet of water. More steam foamed around the plates after they’d been set on the dish rack, which seemed to dry them almost as soon as they’d been set down.
I’d seen people wash their dishes using magic before, of course. But this was a new level of theatrics.
Alec explained what had happened while the dishes did themselves and Nancy put them away with practiced movements. I felt like I should offer to help, but also got the impression I would be in the way.
His explanation included telling Nancy briefly about my family and our feud with Sienna. He didn’t use our coven name, or reveal who anyone was besides me, but I still winced every time he danced around the subject. The coven of the Crimson Daggers was secret, even within the Glimmering world, and Alec knew that. He also seemed inclined to trust this woman implicitly.
I could only hold my breath and go along with it.
“We’re thinking that since Sienna was all cozy with Brick, she might have been using spells she picked up from him,” Alec said. “Or spells she bought from someone else in the magician community.”
This seemed to mean something to both of them that didn’t land with me. Nancy turned off the water and propped her elbows on the counter.
“You need help figuring out the spell?” she said.
He nodded, and she bit her scarlet lip.
“You know that’s a little above my pay grade, right?”
Alec nodded again. “I was hoping you could put us in touch with you-know-who.”
She’d been expecting this, and it was clear she didn’t particularly like it. She stared at him for a long moment with her chin on her hand, and finally sighed. “You know how expensive that’s going to be.”
“I also know what a sucker she is for high fashion.” Alec jerked his thumb at me. “This one works at Carnelian. We can probably get our hands on a Nelly Hunter original.”
Nancy’s eyebrows flew up in surprise. “Okay,” she said slowly. “That might work. Maybe?”
“We’ve got to try.”
“Yeah, I guess you do.” She stood and crooked a finger at us to follow.
I looked to Alec, who shook his head as if to say wait and see. Nancy led us to a door that I’d assumed led to the garage. She held a hand over the lock, then flipped her hand over and back.
In an instant, the lock was gone, and a horseshoe-shaped handle had taken its place. Nancy used it to pull the door open, and a gust of cold air blew out at us from a staircase leading down to darkness.
“After you,” Alec said.
I held my breath and stepped down into the shadows.
11
Each step down felt colder and darker than the last, until finally I moved forward again and was met only with flat ground.
Somewhere at the top of the stairs, Nancy clicked a pull-chain. A dim light flickered on.
“Sorry,” she called. “Couldn’t find the stupid string.”
She trotted lightly down the steps after us. We’d come down into an unfinished basement, full of bins of holiday decorations and abandoned toys. She walked briskly across the space and opened a door on the far side, which led to a cement stairwell that seemed to lead right back up to the house’s backyard.
It seemed like a roundabout way to get there, but I kept my mouth shut and followed Alec. The night air hit us immediately, but it wasn’t as cold as it had been earlier. It wasn’t damp, either. I turned to ask Nancy what was going on, but she only whispered, “Good luck” and shut the door behind us.
“Come on,” Alec said.
He held out a hand, and, in the near-blackness, I took it. We walked carefully up the steps to what I assumed would be a lawn, and then I stopped dead.
It was a lawn.
And it couldn’t possibly be in Portland.
A small patch of grass spread out in front of us, and then the grass turned to a trail of dirt lined with scrubby brush. And beyond that, sending its balmy breezes up to where we stood at the top of a hill, the ocean glittered in the moonlight.
“Excuse me, what?” I said, turning to Alec. And then I kept turning, because Nancy’s house was gone. Instead of a comfortable suburban home, we appeared to have just emerged from the cellar of a building that seemed to be all arches and marble columns. “Where are we, exactly?”
“Nancy’s basement
leads to lots of places,” he said, then ordered me to hush. He seemed to be listening for something.
I bit my lip and gestured frantically at him instead. After a moment, he waved at me to follow him down the dirt path. I thought it was heading to the ocean. But then, not too far down the hill, the path diverged, and he turned right.
The sound of flutes reached me, and then the bushes cleared, and the path opened to reveal a marble pavilion full of light and music.
“Don’t look surprised,” Alec warned me in a low voice.
“Surprised at what?” I said, but it was too late.
He had straightened and was heading with purpose to the pavilion and the pools of light it cast on the surrounding gardens. I swore at him under my breath and ran to catch up.
People were scattered inside and around the pavilion—not just humans in flowing dresses, but other creatures as well. There was at least one demigod, recognizable by the sheer perfection of his sculpted muscles and his crown of golden curls, and a few naiads in flowing blue gowns, and several nymphs all dancing in a circle. These last were being observed from a pile of cushions by some satyrs who seemed thrilled with the view.
Near the center of the pavilion, on a dais covered in silk cushions, a woman lounged with a goblet of wine next to her. She was holding court, and everyone around her seemed slightly angled toward her as though they hoped to catch her attention or wanted to be ready if she needed anything.
I’d seen the way people behaved when the Faerie Queen entered a room, and this felt the same.
Alec approached the woman and was quickly stopped by a naiad.
“Do you have business with Lady Fauna?” she asked, eyes wide. “It’s a strange hour for visitors.”
“We are in dire need of the lady’s help.” Alec bowed slightly to the naiad, and, after he stepped discreetly on my foot, I did the same.
The naiad pursed her lips a little, then shrugged.
“If it’s urgent, then,” she said and led us toward the dais.
The woman on the cushions, I realized as we approached, was not a woman at all. The top half of her was an attractive human with dark hair and large hazel eyes, but the bottom half—or at least what I could see of it under the hem of her floaty white gown—was pure goat.
“I thought satyrs were all male,” I muttered to Alec.
“Shut up,” he muttered back.
This seemed like wise advice, so I took it.
When we reached the dais, Alec bowed deeply, and I followed half a second behind. The satyr woman looked at us like we were a surprising new morsel and bit her lip. Much of her dark hair was piled back in a crown of braids threaded with gold, but some of it spilled down onto her shoulders. She flicked a heavy lock aside.
“Who’s this?” she asked, in a throaty voice.
She was kind of sexy, I decided, which was not something I had ever thought I would think about a half-goat.
“We’ve come to you in an hour of need, my lady,” Alec said.
She blinked, and I realized she had the slit-pupiled eyes of a goat, too. They unsettled me, but I did my best not to let it show.
“Have you met a witch named Sienna Hunter?” Alec asked. “She might be known to you by a different name, but she would have come to you asking for magic.”
Lady Fauna shifted on her pillows. “I know the witch,” she said. “An ambitious young thing, dark hair with red tips?”
“That’s the one,” I said.
Her odd eyes focused on me, and she smiled. It was a kind smile, designed to put me at ease. I took a slight step forward.
“Did she come to see you?”
“She ended up here eventually.” She laughed, a low sound that traveled easily through the pavilion. “She had plenty of false starts. Tried to ask old Mambres for help, as if he had half the powers she needed, and then went down a rabbit hole at the Agrippa Institute trying to beg favors of the faculty. Enterprising, but clearly hadn’t a clue what she was doing.”
“What did she want from you?” Alec asked.
Lady Fauna tilted her head at him, and he wiped his hands on his jeans.
“We think she kidnapped some children,” Alec said. “We’re trying to figure out how she did it and find her.”
Lady Fauna’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and her mouth parted into a small O. The others sitting around her perked up a little and turned to her for a reaction.
“She took the gifts I gave her and kidnapped people with them? Kidnapped children?”
She seemed delighted by this, or at least entertained. She laughed again, and my hackles rose. It wasn’t a laughing matter.
Without looking at me, Alec put a hand on my arm. But it wasn’t necessary. Whoever this woman was, she was powerful—and powerful beings, particularly those who weren’t entirely human, didn’t always play by our moral codes. I didn’t like it, but I remembered my training and stayed respectful.
“We’d appreciate any help you could provide,” I said.
She wound a lock of hair around her finger. “I might have what you need. Do you have what I need?”
I was caught off guard for a second, and then remembered Alec’s conversation with Nancy.
“I can offer you a Nelly Hun—”
Alec elbowed me in the side, hard. I winced and cut my eyes at him. The gesture hadn’t even been subtle.
“Scarlett,” he said, as if he was trying to speak under his breath and was pretty bad at it. “I told you, that’s too much.”
This was an old game, and it took me only a second to catch on.
“Alec, we have to get the kids back,” I said.
“Kids?” Lady Fauna said, sitting up a little more, her eyes wide with interest.
“Children,” I said. “Witchlings. Sorry.”
She sank back down.
“I know, but you know how expensive it’s going to be, right?” Alec stage-whispered. “An original?”
“I’ll make it work,” I said. “Ms. Hunter likes me. I’m sure I could talk her into giving me a good price.”
“On what?” Her slitted eyes shifted from me to Alec.
“Don’t do it,” Alec said softly.
I turned away from him and faced Lady Fauna. “A Carnelian Hunter original,” I said defiantly. “Carnelian is a rising house in Glimmering Portland that recently dressed the Faerie Queen, and I have it on good authority that they’ll play a role in Dior Miller’s wedding party, too.”
“Whose authority?”
“Nelly Hunter’s, I said. “I work there as an apprentice designer.”
Her eyes lit up with hunger, and I took another small step forward.
“The value of a piece designed by Ms. Hunter has skyrocketed in the past year.”
“I’m aware.” Lady Fauna licked her bottom lip and caught it between her teeth. She held up a hand, and one of her servants passed her the wine goblet. She took a long drink, staring up at me the whole time. “What kind of item?”
“A scarf?” I said. “I might be able to swing a blouse.”
“Cocktail dress.”
I opened my eyes as though she’d said something shocking. “Cocktail dress?” I spluttered. “My lady, all I need from you is information.”
“That’s the most valuable thing anyone can possess, isn’t it?” she said sweetly. She blinked up at me with those strange eyes and shifted her cloven feet a little on the pillows. “You mortals are living in an Information Age, from what I hear.”
“I told you not to offer,” Alec muttered loudly.
Lady Fauna shot him a sharp look, and he stared down at his feet and shuffled back and forth.
I met her eyes. “Let’s say I can get you a dress. What kind of information does that get me?”
“Oh, all of it,” she said. “I’m a very generous woman.”
I hemmed and hawed for another moment, and Alec warned me that it would eat up my savings, and I insisted the information was worth it.
“It’s not up to you,” I f
inally barked, and he shook his head at me but waved at me as if to wash his hands of the whole affair. I turned to Lady Fauna. “It’s a deal.”
12
Lady Fauna leaned forward and held out a hand covered in delicate gold rings, and I shook it. Her skin was warm and dry against mine, and I caught a faint whiff of her scent: sandalwood perfume and something warm and musky. One of her gold bracelets slithered off her wrist and onto mine, spun around my arm a few times, and went back to her.
Deal magically sealed, she snapped her fingers, and two of her servants hurriedly reshuffled pillows on the dais. One of the naiads waved to me, offering a seat. Alec and I settled across from the lady, and servants offered us trays of grapes and goblets of wine. I picked at the grapes as she spoke.
“She came to me asking for glamours.” Lady Fauna took another sip of wine. “She said there were people she needed to hide from. You, I presume.”
She gave us both a sharp look, and I nodded.
“She’s my cousin. We were raised together,” I said. “We know all of each other’s glamours. She didn’t want to be recognized.”
That explained why the shadow spell Roux had performed had been hazy around the face. The spell captured the essence of the witch, and the essence only. I knew the glamours of everyone in my coven; each of us had a style all her own that was as recognizable as a musician’s sound or an artist’s brush strokes, a signature that revealed us to one another no matter how skilled we became at the subtle art of changing our appearances. Sienna had been right to turn elsewhere for a disguise.
“I crafted her several new appearances,” Lady Fauna said. “I’m skilled at that sort of thing. It’s why magicians like me so much, I suppose.”
“You aren’t a magician?” I blurted.
There was a long, awkward silence. I felt Alec cringe next to me, and then Lady Fauna and her attendants burst out laughing.
“Aren’t you the sweetest little thing?” she said.
I tensed up. I wasn’t a sweetest little thing and hadn’t been accused of being one for the better part of two decades. She put a hand to her chest as if she could barely contain the hilarity.