to look at the label, but the Paragon plucked it from his hands and tossed it into the cabinet. “Ah-ah—no peeking! Half the fun is figuring out what Aphrodite has picked for you!”
The Paragon locked the cabinet, then turned around and smiled benevolently at us. “Now, if everyone would sit down.”
Verdant peered around the study. “Where?” she asked.
“Oh, good heavens. I almost forgot!” The Paragon playfully smacked his own forehead, then bustled over to a wall of bookshelves. “Let’s see here. Shakespeare’s tragedies…The Brothers Grimm fairy tales…Harry Potter…ahah! Recipe books!”
The Paragon pulled a recipe book forward on the shelf.
Something in the wall clanked, and the entire bookshelf shot straight up, disappearing into the ceiling with a gust of air and dropping a dozen books on the Paragon in the process.
“Ouch!” The Paragon rubbed the top of his head and scowled up at the ceiling. “I ought to adjust that so the spell isn’t quite so enthusiastic. Nonetheless—this way!”
The Paragon marched through the hole the bookcase had left behind, which led into a new area.
Rime went first, and when no one else seemed inclined to go after her I went next, followed closely by Solis.
We walked through about twelve wooden archways that were covered with vine-y plants, and gorgeous flowers that I was pretty sure were out of season.
Hey, I may be a fae, but plants are not my thing.
I thought we had gone outside, but when the archways ended I peered around and saw the bright greenspace was entirely enclosed by brick walls and a glass ceiling.
Green moss covered the ground, and there was a pond with a little waterfall that trickled out of the wall on the far side of the room.
Colored glass orbs were spread around the garden, and wherever the Paragon passed, the orbs lit up.
Ferns peeked out of one corner, while rose bushes arranged in front of ivy—which covered that patch of the wall—took up residence across from it.
The garden seemed like a swirl of concepts—part Japanese garden, part English tea garden, and fully the Paragon’s style.
Since the only windows were the ceiling, you couldn’t see anything outside except for the cloudy afternoon sky.
I wonder where the Paragon’s Pocket Realm is relative to the Night Realm—not that it matters. He has dominion here, so he wouldn’t experience our endless night even if we were next door neighbors.
I clutched my pumpkin latte closer as I peered around the garden with awe.
“Come along, come along. The table is over here,” the Paragon called. “Every spot has a plugin for the latest smart technology—including cellphones, tablets, and computers! Though I suppose you lot are all like Killian—unable to admire the genius of this.”
I crashed between Fell and Birch in my enthusiasm. “Really? How did you do that?”
The Paragon brightened and rubbed his hands together. “Ah—I forgot! As a citizen of earth, you would appreciate this, Leila! I don’t mind telling you, this took a lot of delicate magic work—and some loose interpretations of patent claims.” He winked at me, then froze. “Ah—the tea finished brewing! Everyone sit down—I’ll be back momentarily. Aphrodite, save my seat.”
The pink-skinned cat jumped onto a large wooden seat—which was closer to a throne than a chair—as the Paragon trundled off, disappearing through the archways.
The table was long and wooden. It was partially set with glass vases of brightly colored flowers, teacups and saucers, and empty serving trays. The impressive part of it was the plastic panels that jutted out of the edge of the table at each spot. The panels had cords attached to them, and it looked like all of them were for the newest cellphone models, and a couple of different tablets.
I was still examining the plastic panel when the scuffle for seats began.
Rime claimed the wrought-iron garden chair while Verdant chose a plastic chair that was shaped like a gigantic leaf. Birch selected a rustic chair made of rough branches and sticks that still had the bark on them, while I gratefully plopped down in a chair constructed of bamboo and covered with silk cushions. Solis took the chair next to me—a modern wooden design with a thin cushion—leaving Fell with the last spot, a low stool painted to resemble a toadstool.
Fell scowled at his stool. “Verdant, switch with me,” he ordered.
Verdant tossed her hair over her shoulder. “Bite me.”
“It certainly hasn’t taken long for the Night Queen’s foul ways to contaminate you,” Fell sneered.
“There’s no use pretending we ever got along,” Verdant said. “We might have been temporarily united against