not to die too quick. I like you.”
Yikes. “Thanks?”
He turned around and flopped back into his seat. The city rolled ever closer, with the main castle soaring above the houses. The famous Fae Court. Ornate towers connected by arched walkways soared through the air.
We passed through the city streets, rolling by dozens of Fae going about their daily business. And it seemed they really couldn’t feel it. They were different than the ones I’d seen walking the streets of Magic’s Bend.
For one, they didn’t all have wings. At least not visible. Maybe they didn’t even have them. But the biggest difference was their power. These ones seemed much stronger. As if the earth-walking Faes’ magic had been diminished by being away from the Fae realms.
The closer we got to the castle, the stronger the dark energy in the air.
Demonic, definitely.
Many of the houses had black cloths draped over their doors. They were very different than the otherwise pale fabrics that hung in the windows.
I pointed to them. “What’s with all the black?”
The hobgoblin—or brownie, I didn’t know how to ask—frowned, his eyes turning sad. “The deaths. They came two months ago. Took over ten percent of our people.”
Fates, that was so many. Horror sliced me. “How?”
“We don’t know. They disappeared. Later, their hearts were found, shriveled and rotten.”
Oh, shit. And the king didn’t want our help? “But the deaths stopped two months ago?”
“Just about, yes. Maybe longer.”
“Why?” Agatha hadn’t mentioned that. Maybe she hadn’t known. It was difficult to get information from here.
“We have no idea. We are waiting for them to start again.”
I shivered and sat back in my seat, watching the town carefully as we passed, searching for any clues to the dark magic that grew stronger as we neared the castle. Still, no one seemed to notice it. I was particularly skilled with sensing it, but I’d have expected some of them to be able to smell it or feel it. The signature was distinct. Decay and mold. Rot and filth. In this case, brimstone and putrid night lilies.
Extremely out of place in this otherwise beautiful wonderland.
The castle loomed above as we approached. “The king must be a pretty powerful guy if he lives in a place like this.”
The wizened little figure hopped up and turned back around, a big grin revealing a mouthful of fangs. “Oh, he is.” He shuddered. “Mean bloke, though. Keeps to himself since he took the throne.”
Apparently he liked to gossip, and that was good for me. “When was that?”
“In the spring.”
“So just a few months ago?”
“Yes. Just about.”
Hmm… How did that timing work with the deaths? “Two months or three? Four?”
“Two.”
Interesting. “How is he mean?”
“Always scowling. Silent. Hardly merry like a Seelie Fae should be. Almost no one ever sees him, in fact. The Court is in session less than it ever has been. He’s not keen on others. And he says he’s trying to solve the murders, but we don’t believe him.”
“Interesting. Any idea why?”
“Mean bloke?”
That wasn’t exactly a great answer, or a confident one, but it’d have to do. Never insult your source. Rule number one of trying to sweet-talk info out of people. They might clam right up if you insulted them.
I nodded. “I know just the type.”
“The worst, aren’t they?”
“Definitely.”
The little figure shrugged. “Most of us are afraid of him. He’s ruthless. Some say cruel. Only his inner Court ever sees him, and that’s rare.”
“Is he cruel?”
“Hard to say. Never seen any indication he isn’t. He’s got some horrible things in his past, though.”
I leaned forward slightly. This was good shit. “Like what?”
The little figure clammed up, his mouth flattening into a line. “Shouldn’t say no more.”
Damn it. I needed to keep him talking. Get him comfortable enough to spill the details later. “But he’s hosting the games? Why?”
“It’s been years since we’ve had one. Maybe for his own entertainment?”
“Sounds like a peach of a guy.” I tilted my head back to inspect the underside of the castle wall as we passed through a gate. The stone was a pale silvery gray, shot through with minute sparkles of mica. I looked back at the tiny troll, ready to ask more questions.
But the carriage rolled to a stop at the side of the castle.
“We’re here.” The driver turned around to look at me, then gestured to the ground. “Your stop.”
“Thanks for the ride.” I climbed down and approached the arched entrance at the base of the castle. Above, dozens of windows gleamed in the light. Trees grew right