“Long may it reign,” Gideon added with sincerity—he couldn’t help it. He was not a fool, nor an idealist about his government, but even in the middle of a sibling spat, he would not be caught shirking his patriotism. “Now, we have made some preparations for you—”
“Why am I here, Gideon?” Avery snapped. “I know I was not released out of the goodness of the council’s heart, so why not just tell me?”
Gideon uncharacteristically hesitated. “We need your help.”
Avery thought she must have misheard. “My help?”
“Our relations with the mortals have become increasingly strained.”
“Centuries of kidnapping, enslavement, enchantments, and hexes on an entire species will do that,” came the unsympathetic response.
“Strained to the point that our way of life may be on the brink of discovery by the day.”
Avery snorted. “And the council wants to enlistmy helpto keep them behind the veil?”
“As I said,” Gideon confirmed tersely.
Avery ran her tongue over her right canine. “Go to hell.”
“Avery—”
“I seem to recall a large aspect of the charges leveled against me was my ‘mortal sympathies,’ as it was so charmingly put.”
“We hoped you might appreciate the irony.”
“I hope you allchokeon it.”
Gideon leaned forward in his seat, steepling his hands in thought. “There has been an alarming increase in magic-related crimes in Mundane sectors. It’s causing uncomfortable questions. We need someone who can navigate both worlds. Find the root of the problems before it’s too late. We need to keep things clean, orderly—”
“Blissfully separated?” Avery sneered.
Gideon sat back wordlessly. She was either letting her anger bleed out now, or he was losing her. If he was going to win her over, he would need to pivot soon.
“Is there any sort ofincentivefor aiding the regime that condemned me to half a millennia of nightmares?”
“I don’t suppose duty is enough to move you.”
“It could move a bowel,” she offered unhelpfully.
“In exchange for your assistance,” the wear was beginning to filter in as he spoke, “we are prepared to allow the remainder of your sentence to be lived out in a probationary fashion.”
“Three hundred years of being a dog on your leash.”
“We’d be willing to shorten it, depending on your cooperation.”
Her interest piqued. “The leash or the sentence?”
“Either,” Gideon answered cryptically. His lips very nearly hinted at a smile. “Depending on your cooperation.”
“Téigh trasna ort féin, agus an t-asal marcaíocht tú ar,” Avery cursed under her breath.6
“Three hundred more years of endless nightmares or providing your government with an essential service is hardly a difficult choice.” Surely shecould see the merit in this. True, it was not ideal, but was she so prideful as to throw this opportunity away completely?
“Different bottle, still bloody arsenic.”
She was. Of course she was. Gideon rubbed his temple delicately with his fingertips. “You always were overdramatic.”
“Must be the human in me,” came the spiteful answer.
