I agreed.
Chapter Eight
A voice came through the door, high and musical; just hearing it made me start to smile. "Bittersweet, my child, do not fear. Your fairy godmother is here."
Bittersweet dipped toward the floor again. "Gilda," she said in an uncertain voice. The bee sounds were fading along with the scent of summer-browned grass.
"Yes, dearie, it's Gilda. Calm down in there and the nice policeman will let me through."
Bittersweet floated to the floor in front of the surprised Wright and O'Brian. The little fey laughed and the two officers laughed with her. The demi-fey were our smallest people, but some of them had glamour to rival the sidhe, though most of my people would never admit it.
I found myself wanting to help Gilda get through that door. I glanced at the detectives to see the glamour working on them, but it wasn't. They just looked puzzled, as if they heard a song but it was too distant to understand the words. I could hear the song too, something like a music box, or the tinkling of chimes, or bells, or ... I shielded harder, a flexing of the mind and will, and the song was pushed away. I didn't want to smile like a fool or help Gilda get through that door.
Bittersweet laughed again and Lucy's partner did too, nervously, as if he knew he shouldn't. Lucy said, "Did you leave your anti-charm at home again?"
He shrugged.
She reached into her pocket and handed him a small cloth bag. "I brought extra today." She flicked her eyes at me as if wondering if I'd take offense.
"Sometimes even I wear protection," I said. I didn't add out loud, "but usually only around my own relatives."
Lucy gave me a quick smile of thanks.
I whispered to Doyle and Frost, "Do you feel Gilda's persuasion?"
"Yes," Frost said.
"It's aimed at fey only," Doyle said, "but she has not the precision to aim only at Bittersweet."
I glanced behind me at Robert. He seemed fine, but he came closer to us at my glance. "You know brownies are solitary faeries, Princess. We're not so easily taken by such things."