Megan resisted the urge to cough. So far, no one had noticed her. She had thought she’d be rushed by Faeries. But she hadn’t seen a one.
Was that a bad sign?
She wished she had someone to ask.
The low ceilings held the smoke down and made the ka-ching! ka-ching! of the coins falling into the metal trays seem even louder. The slot machines here were truly one armed bandits, with the lever that the gambler had to pull. A few of the gamblers looked like they’d been attached to the machines in 1966 and were being kept alive by the same electricity that kept the machines going.
Megan kept walking. Her breath was coming in short gasps, but she couldn’t tell if that was from the smoke or from her nervousness. She was glad that Faeries didn’t have empaths—someone like her would be able to sense her fear from miles away.
She passed craps tables that were mostly empty except for a croupier and two other employees all watching one or two players. In a room to the side, ten people played poker, and judging by the stack of chips that each had in front of them, the game had been going on forever, with no end in sight.
Megan swallowed, feeling nerves churn her stomach. She followed her wounded nose to the buffet, where a beef roast looked like it had been glued to the tray five weeks before. Next to it, a congealed white gravy mound pretended to be some kind of chicken, and beside that, pork so dried that it could have served as shoe leather rounded out the “meat” portion of the serving area.
Nonetheless, she took a table as instructed. A greasy menu stuck into one of those metal holders informed her that the buffet was $3.95, and All-U-Can-Eat (which, judging by the food, would be exactly none). But she was supposed to buy something and pick at it while she waited to attract someone’s attention.
Two little old ladies with hair as blue as the air sat two tables down, waving cigarettes as they spoke to each other. A few more tables away, an elderly man ate scrambled eggs covered in ketchup. The only person near Megan’s age was an obese young man who hunched over a cup of coffee as if he didn’t have a dime to his name.
She got up, grabbed a chipped white plate off the stack, and proceeded to fill it up with beet salad, tuna casserole, and old-fashioned macaroni and cheese, the only things on the buffet that looked halfway agreeable.
The dessert section had JELL-O filled with lime slices, which she believed was indestructible, and chocolate pudding which she would have thought was indestructible, until she saw the thick skins on the surface.
Still, she took one JELL-O and one pudding, poured a cup of coffee from the pot, and headed back to her table. A keno runner (invisible, apparently) had left a keno card next to her napkin, but other than that, Megan had seen no sign of any other employees, who Zoe had assured her were all Faeries.
Was Zoe wrong? Someone had mentioned that things changed hourly in Faerie. Maybe they didn’t own this place any more.
Megan slipped into her chair, looked at the unappetizing food, and hoped Rob was all right.
She hadn’t been told exactly what his part of the plan was—in case she was “compromised” (whatever that meant [and she certainly didn’t want to speculate])—so she had no idea what he was doing.
Except going for the wheel.
With the help of her accountant brother and the big, sensitive man known as Little John.
Thirty-six
The fact that the main entrance to Faerie was near the Mirage seemed appropriate to Rob. Faeries probably liked the irony: they had to create a mirage to hide the entrance.
What surprised him was how close the entrance was to that fake volcano that pretended to spew lava every half hour. The entrance was right near the volcano’s base, which took some work getting to, because the Mirage’s security was pretty tight.
Travers was surprised that the entrance had been moved. Apparently, the night before, the entrance had been several yards away in a concrete block of the sidewalk.
But the Faeries were well known for moving the entrance to their little hideaway, and since they figured out that Zoe had been in Faerie uninvited, they probably changed all the entrances.
This one was still surprisingly close to where it had been before.
John had wanted to use an invisibility spell to get them near the volcano’s base, but Rob wouldn’t let him. Mage magic was like a beacon to the Faeries, and using it this close could alert them to something going on.
So Rob and his team did it the old-fashioned way: they snuck behind tourists and guards, and crawled part of the distance on their bellies.
It felt the good old days.
Rob loved that.
John lifted part of the fake lava rock to reveal a hole the size of the door to Rob’s office. The entrance to Faerie beckoned.
“If you’re going to back out,” Rob whispered to the other two, “the time is now.”
John grinned at him, revealing startling white teeth. Rob wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to his friend looking like a troll on stilts. “I’m in.”
“I’m an old hand at this,” Travers said, and Rob would have believed him if it weren’t for the tremor in his voice.
“All right,” Rob said. “John first, Travers second, and I’ll bring up the rear.”
John slipped into the door feet first and waved as he disappeared. Travers took a deep breath, like a man about to dive into an ocean, and then slide in behind John.
Rob made sure no one was watching, grabbed the edge of the fake lava rock, and pulled it closed as he went through the door. There was a small slide that just ended.
He found himself in midair, free-falling in the darkness.
He couldn’t hear anything except his own breathing.
Somehow this no longer seemed like a good idea.
He resisted the urge to make a fist, casting some light. He let himself fall, through air that got progressively cooler. It smelled of earth and damp—oddly enough, given this was the desert—and mold, and he worried suddenly that he wasn’t falling down, he was falling over into some other part of Faerie, some part nowhere near Las Vegas.
Then he heard voices, all of them speaking Faerie, and the cling-cling of slot machines, and a strange glow appeared at his feet. It took him a moment to realize the glow was neon.
The air got drier and stank of cigarettes.
Then he fell into the light, landing on a silver net and tumbling off in the middle of a casino floor.
John and Travers already stood to one side, looking very nervous. They were both too tall to be in Faerie—by nearly two feet—and Travers was blond.
A Faerie woman put her hands on Travers’ chest. “Nice to see you again, big boy.”
John’s already upswept eyebrows went up. Rob picked himself off the floor, amazed he hadn’t had the wind knocked out of him or felt bruised from the fall.
“Playing with the mortals for a second night in a row?” she asked Travers.
He gave her a nervous smile and said, “Is it that obvious?”
She rubbed his hair. “I like you blond. I don’t think I’d recognize you with dark hair.”
Then she grinned at John.
He gave her a startled look back.
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she said in a seductive tone.
“And I don’t see any point, since you’ve already claimed my friend there,” John said, sounding as nervous as Travers.
Rob stood and brushed himself off. No one seemed to notice him. Of course, he was the only one of the three short enough to fit into Faerie. He looked like countless other Faerie men standing around the machines.
And that was the problem. There were countless Faeries all over this section of the makeshift casino.
Shouldn’t they have been gone by now? Megan had gone to the Faerie casino on Boulder Highway, hadn’t she?
He would have sworn that her presence would have attracted them.
If he was wrong, then this plan wasn’t going to work.
If he was wrong, they have ju
st placed themselves in serious danger.
If he was wrong, everything was going to fail.
Thirty-six
The fact that the main entrance to Faerie was near the Mirage seemed appropriate to Rob. Faeries probably liked the irony: they had to create a mirage to hide the entrance.
What surprised him was how close the entrance was to that fake volcano that pretended to spew lava every half hour. The entrance was right near the volcano’s base, which took some work getting to, because the Mirage’s security was pretty tight.
Travers was surprised that the entrance had been moved. Apparently, the night before, the entrance had been several yards away in a concrete block of the sidewalk.
But the Faeries were well known for moving the entrance to their little hideaway, and since they figured out that Zoe had been in Faerie uninvited, they probably changed all the entrances.
This one was still surprisingly close to where it had been before.
John had wanted to use an invisibility spell to get them near the volcano’s base, but Rob wouldn’t let him. Mage magic was like a beacon to the Faeries, and using it this close could alert them to something going on.
So Rob and his team did it the old-fashioned way: they snuck behind tourists and guards, and crawled part of the distance on their bellies.
It felt the good old days.
Rob loved that.
John lifted part of the fake lava rock to reveal a hole the size of the door to Rob’s office. The entrance to Faerie beckoned.
“If you’re going to back out,” Rob whispered to the other two, “the time is now.”
John grinned at him, revealing startling white teeth. Rob wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to his friend looking like a troll on stilts. “I’m in.”
“I’m an old hand at this,” Travers said, and Rob would have believed him if it weren’t for the tremor in his voice.
“All right,” Rob said. “John first, Travers second, and I’ll bring up the rear.”
John slipped into the door feet first and waved as he disappeared. Travers took a deep breath, like a man about to dive into an ocean, and then slide in behind John.
Rob made sure no one was watching, grabbed the edge of the fake lava rock, and pulled it closed as he went through the door. There was a small slide that just ended.
He found himself in midair, free-falling in the darkness.
He couldn’t hear anything except his own breathing.
Somehow this no longer seemed like a good idea.
He resisted the urge to make a fist, casting some light. He let himself fall, through air that got progressively cooler. It smelled of earth and damp—oddly enough, given this was the desert—and mold, and he worried suddenly that he wasn’t falling down, he was falling over into some other part of Faerie, some part nowhere near Las Vegas.
Then he heard voices, all of them speaking Faerie, and the cling-cling of slot machines, and a strange glow appeared at his feet. It took him a moment to realize the glow was neon.
The air got drier and stank of cigarettes.
Then he fell into the light, landing on a silver net and tumbling off in the middle of a casino floor.
John and Travers already stood to one side, looking very nervous. They were both too tall to be in Faerie—by nearly two feet—and Travers was blond.
A Faerie woman put her hands on Travers’ chest. “Nice to see you again, big boy.”
John’s already upswept eyebrows went up. Rob picked himself off the floor, amazed he hadn’t had the wind knocked out of him or felt bruised from the fall.
“Playing with the mortals for a second night in a row?” she asked Travers.
He gave her a nervous smile and said, “Is it that obvious?”
She rubbed his hair. “I like you blond. I don’t think I’d recognize you with dark hair.”
Then she grinned at John.
He gave her a startled look back.
“I don’t think we’ve been introduced,” she said in a seductive tone.
“And I don’t see any point, since you’ve already claimed my friend there,” John said, sounding as nervous as Travers.
Rob stood and brushed himself off. No one seemed to notice him. Of course, he was the only one of the three short enough to fit into Faerie. He looked like countless other Faerie men standing around the machines.
And that was the problem. There were countless Faeries all over this section of the makeshift casino.
Shouldn’t they have been gone by now? Megan had gone to the Faerie casino on Boulder Highway, hadn’t she?
He would have sworn that her presence would have attracted them.
If he was wrong, then this plan wasn’t going to work.
If he was wrong, they have just placed themselves in serious danger.
If he was wrong, everything was going to fail.
Thirty-seven
The hotel suite looked like something out of an X-Men movie. Kyle sat in a big leather chair—the kind that Professor X would use, only cooler—and Zoe sat a few feet away. She had ordered complete quiet, mostly so that the Fates, who were on the other side of the room, wouldn’t distract everyone with their talking.
Zoe had cleared most of the furniture out of this bedroom in the suite, except for the chair (which she conjured out of somewhere) and the table in front of the Fates, and the big screen TV which showed a faint picture of the casino that Aunt Meg had gone into.
Zoe couldn’t use mage magic inside the casino—that would point out the plan to the Faeries—but she had installed real surveillance, like in the movies, on the outside. What they all saw was a real picture of the place from a little digital computer camera and a strategically placed computer not too far away.
Wireless. Like magic, Zoe said.
Kyle’s stomach was doing somersaults. Dad didn’t want him involved in this, but Zoe and the Fates promised he’d be all right.
He knew he would be, but everything rested on him—or at least, Aunt Megan’s safety did. He had to be calm and receptive to her thoughts even though he wouldn’t get the simple, everyday ones. Only the panicked scared ones, and only if she had any of those at all.
His mouth was dry. He hadn’t been this nervous ever. At least that he could remember.
Fang waddled into the room, and jumped on Kyle’s lap, startling him. Kyle petted the heavy dog, glad for the company.
The Fates weren’t paying any attention to him. They were studying the Faerie map, which was spread out on the table before them. If there was some kind of problem with the wheel—and they didn’t expect it—they were to let Zoe know, not that anyone could do anything about it, at least that Kyle knew about. Because there wasn’t a backup for this part of the plan, unless Robin Hood had only told Zoe and her thoughts were blocking whatever it was, which Kyle hoped was the case, because he was really, really nervous….
“Kyle,” Zoe said softly, “I’m not an empath, and you’re making me nervous.”
“Sorry,” he said, and hugged Fang. Fang uttered a little squeak—a very undoglike noise—and struggled to get free. Kyle let the dog go.
He’d never been the center of a magical adventure before.
And he wasn’t really the center now. He was more like the fail-safe backup. In some ways, Aunt Megan was the center.
She had sure looked nervous on the camera as she walked into that ratty casino. But she didn’t have to do anything except sit there and look pretty, at least that’s what Rob had said, and he’d meant it too. He thought the Faeries would surround her like moths around really bright light.
So far, Kyle couldn’t tell if it was working. But he’d be able to tell if it went wrong. They’d tested it, and Aunt Megan had a pretty good mental shout, especially after Zoe enhanced his abilities to pick up over a distance.
Kyle swallowed against his dry throat. He’d have to trust everyone and hope this worked.
Because really, this whole thing was his fault. If he hadn’t insisted that Dad drive
the Fates to Vegas, if he hadn’t introduced them to Aunt Megan, if he hadn’t goaded Robin Hood, then no one would be in Faerie right now.
But he had, and they were, and he was waiting.
He hated the waiting most of all.
Thirty-seven
The hotel suite looked like something out of an X-Men movie. Kyle sat in a big leather chair—the kind that Professor X would use, only cooler—and Zoe sat a few feet away. She had ordered complete quiet, mostly so that the Fates, who were on the other side of the room, wouldn’t distract everyone with their talking.
Zoe had cleared most of the furniture out of this bedroom in the suite, except for the chair (which she conjured out of somewhere) and the table in front of the Fates, and the big screen TV which showed a faint picture of the casino that Aunt Meg had gone into.
Zoe couldn’t use mage magic inside the casino—that would point out the plan to the Faeries—but she had installed real surveillance, like in the movies, on the outside. What they all saw was a real picture of the place from a little digital computer camera and a strategically placed computer not too far away.
Wireless. Like magic, Zoe said.
Kyle’s stomach was doing somersaults. Dad didn’t want him involved in this, but Zoe and the Fates promised he’d be all right.
He knew he would be, but everything rested on him—or at least, Aunt Megan’s safety did. He had to be calm and receptive to her thoughts even though he wouldn’t get the simple, everyday ones. Only the panicked scared ones, and only if she had any of those at all.
His mouth was dry. He hadn’t been this nervous ever. At least that he could remember.
Fang waddled into the room, and jumped on Kyle’s lap, startling him. Kyle petted the heavy dog, glad for the company.
The Fates weren’t paying any attention to him. They were studying the Faerie map, which was spread out on the table before them. If there was some kind of problem with the wheel—and they didn’t expect it—they were to let Zoe know, not that anyone could do anything about it, at least that Kyle knew about. Because there wasn’t a backup for this part of the plan, unless Robin Hood had only told Zoe and her thoughts were blocking whatever it was, which Kyle hoped was the case, because he was really, really nervous….
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