the filth of humanity.
Weirdest of all, however, were the fae walking through it.
Certainly, some of them were reacting as Dion thought they would and were standing on the sidelines, whispering to each other with pinched expressions.
But many individuals—most of the lords and ladies, in fact—were stalking through the course, clutching sheets of paper and tiny pencils, and swinging their clubs with a great deal more enthusiasm than I’d seen most of them muster up in months.
“I say—did you try hole twelve? It has a water wheel—very difficult.”
“I finished it in two shots! But I had trouble at hole eight.”
“The one with the giraffe statue that’s missing a leg?”
“Yes! That’s the one—I swear upon my family’s house the missing leg affects the wind speed in that area. Such a cheat!”
Dion craned his neck, but apparently was unable to see his target. “Give me a second, Rigel.” He hopped on to the base of a smiling hippo statue and peered around.
I was left to stare at a group of ladies comparing score cards with smugness.
What is happening to them?
I felt the muscles of my forehead pull slightly in my temptation to frown in confusion, but I instantly smoothed the expression from my face.
“I see her.” Dion jumped off the statue. “Come on—she’s near the tenth hole.” He led the way through the crush of the crowd—paths miraculously opened up whenever anyone glanced at us and saw me—and bounded up the stairs built into the hill and nestled between some poorly grown bushes.
“Queen Leila! How happy you look this evening,” Dion called to her.
The Queen of the Night Court was wearing a dark purple, lacy sundress and clutching a silver travel mug as if someone might rip it from her. She was also carrying one of those purse-things she seemed to be forever holding, and when she saw Dion she carefully smiled at him—probably taken in by his dazzling charm.
“Lord Dion—it’s always a pleasure to see you!” she said. “Could have done without you, Rigel, but it is decently enjoyable to see you in the middle of a mini golf course.”
I blinked. “Fascinating. I was just thinking how this…interesting place suits you.”
Dion ignored our verbal spar and continued with his planned seduction. “The pleasure of seeing you will always and forever be mine, Queen Leila, for you bring joy everywhere you go.”
I don’t understand how he’s able to say ridiculous things like that without gagging.
The queen must not have been paying complete attention to Dion—she didn’t giggle and swoon like most fae ladies would have. Instead, she chortled to herself and smacked her thigh with her purse-thing. “Oh, I would dearly love to hear if today is one of those joyous times!”
“Did you not move today’s event to this bright place in hopes of inspiring joy?” Dion tactfully asked.
Queen Leila snorted like a horse. “No. I moved it here because I thought it would annoy everyone! But they’re taking my challenge seriously—which is a lot more satisfying than I ever imagined.”
“Your challenge?”
She gestured to the course. “Anyone who gets a higher score than me will receive something from the Night Court Treasury.”
Dion stared at her. “Really? Are you that skilled at this game?”
“Not really, but I’ve appointed Chase as my representative, and he’s a regular snake at this.”
Curious, I glanced at her director of security. The werewolf—his eyes gleaming—hadn’t looked away from me since I had arrived.
Someone has inspired that famous werewolf loyalty…
“He has a perfect score,” Leila continued. “The most someone could do is tie with him. But it doesn’t matter—no one has a hope of even coming close.”
“Why not?” Dion asked.
Leila took a sip from her silver travel mug. “None of you have played mini golf before. Already the course has lost two lights, a pot of flowers, and one employee—and it’s only been half an hour. It’s going to be carnage by the time the day ends.”
“Queen Leila.” The steward came tapping up the steps, a look of concern crossing her face.
Leila lost her air of glee. “Is something wrong?”
“Somewhat. Lord Iason accused Lady Lysandra of cheating at the fifteenth hole. They’re clogging up the use of that hole, and now Lord Gaios is threatening a duel to clear Lady Lysandra’s golfing reputation.”
“I swear.” The queen shook her head. “The fae could make drinking water into an insult-worthy competition. Chase?”
“My men are on their way there.” The werewolf had his cellphone up to his ear and looked unmovable—I suspect he wasn’t going to leave her side as long as I