situation. For a moment, I didn’t know what else to do, then an idea occurred to me.
“Um, Glimlock, what if... you gave your wife another black chrysanthemum, and then you strut about to make sure she sees you first.”
“If it were that easy, I would have already won her back, but black chrysanthemums are near impossible to find. I honestly don’t know where this idiot got one and took it upon himself to ruin my life.”
I turned to Damien. “Where did you get it?”
He raised one white eyebrow, then addressed Glimlock. “If I promised to get one for you, will you leave me alone?”
Glimlock swatted tears from his eyes. “Can you do that?”
Damien opened his mouth to answer, but paused, casting a glance about the room. Several males were listening in rapt attention. The mage leaned down toward Glimlock and whispered in a barely audible tone.
“I can but with one condition.”
“You have no right to set conditions, you dishonorable human.”
“Shh,” Damien pressed a finger to his lips. “Do you want your wife back or not?”
Glimlock huffed and thought for a long moment. Finally, he said, “Right then, what condition?”
“Let’s get out of here and make a deal.”
Chapter 18
A little creek of turquoise water skimming with white foam gurgled in front of us. Fish of gold, silver, and blue swam about, hiding in between reeds and smooth stones. The perfume of flowers rode the fresh air, making me realize how unclean the air in our realm was.
We sat on a conglomeration of large boulders next to the creek. Glimlock had not sheathed his sword, and I doubted Damien had removed his defensive spell.
The Fae scanned me up and down. “That’s some funny garments you wear. What are those?” He pointed at my tennis shoes.
“Those are my kicks,” I said. “They’re pretty comfy.” I wiggled my toes.
The Fae appeared skeptical. He sneaked a stubby finger through his beard, scratched his chin, and shifted his attention to Damien. “Speak up, then, what is your condition?”
“You deliver goods to the Vine Tower, do you not?” Damien asked.
“Aye, but what is it to you?”
“We would like to speak to Prince Kalyll,” Damien said. “It’s a matter of life or death.”
Glimlock huffed. “If you think I will help you get into the Vine Tower, you’re right mad.”
“We don’t need to get into the tower,” I interrupted, sensing that Glimlock would not concede any ground in this matter.
Damien glared, his expression seeming to say “what the hell are you doing?”
“I know Prince Kalyll,” I said. “I would just like a moment to talk to him. Maybe, instead, you could tell me where I can find him.”
“If you know him,” Glimlock raised a bushy eyebrow, “request a hearing, like everybody else.”
“That would take an inordinate amount of time, which we don’t have,” Damien said. “Foreigners always fall to the back of the line and are invariably told to come back the next day, at which point they’re ushered to the back of an entirely new line.”
“As it should be,” Glimlock said with a firm nod.
“Please, Glimlock,” I begged. “If you can help us in any way, we would be eternally grateful to you.”
The Fae pushed away from the boulder and, standing right at eye level, peered at me. “Please?” he repeated. “That’s a word I’ve never heard from a human’s lips.”
“Really?” I blinked in surprise. “That’s unfortunate. How many of us have you met?”
“Just the one.” He pointed at Damien.
“Oh, well, that explains it.” I wrinkled my nose at Damien. “You’re giving us all a bad name.”
“I may know where Prince Adanorin is,” Glimlock said after a moment of contemplation.
I perked up. “You do?”
He gave one decisive nod. “But first,” he put out a hand, “my chrysanthemum.”
Damien didn’t move and continued to sit with his arms folded across his chest. “Can we trust him?”
“Give it a rest, Damien,” I blurted out, anger getting the best of me. “I’d say he’s more trustworthy than you.” I turned to the Fae. “Please, Glimlock, don’t go by White Damien to judge us all. It would be like judging all birds because you’ve met a chicken.”
“How dare you?!” Damien exclaimed. “In me, he has met an eagle. The rest of you are the chickens.”
I rolled my eyes.
Glimlock sputtered a laugh. “What a sorry eagle,” he managed, then kept laughing, a hand pressed to his ample belly. His laugh was so hearty and infectious that I couldn’t help but join him.
Damien threw his arms up in the air. “Enough of this nonsense.” He