Page 169 of A Thief Among Fae

Rune stares at me, raising a brow as he reads my expression. Then he gets it and bursts out laughing. “That’s devious. At her own son’s ball.”

Maeve scrunches her nose. “Her son?”

“You didn’t hear the news?” I ask her. “A crier was already sent to Ne—my hometown.”

“I’ve been here all day,” she says. “Same with Brandur, Min, and Rune. We’ve been preparing for our next job.”

They don’t know. This whole time, Rune was the only one of them who knew. There’s no reason not to tell them now. I brace myself for their reactions. “Desmond wanted to assassinate Queen Orla. That’s why they’ve been imprisoned.”

Brandur grins like that’s the best news he’s heard all day, so broadly displaying his pointed teeth that it’s menacing. “Revenge for one’s people. I like his style. And the other two were involved in it? Finnian has more gatzspa than I thought.”

Maeve looks queasy. “Avedor’s queen? Finnian shouldn’t have gone with them. He should’ve known it was a suicide mission.”

“I do not think Finnian cared,” Min replies, the first thing I’ve heard her say since her short greeting when Rune summoned her. She could tell something was wrong immediately. “He, like the other two fae, feels an obligation toward their people. Except in Finnian’s case, he is also demonstrating loyalty to his oldest friend.”

Loyalty, huh? She doesn’t know that Evie—that I’m the reason they were caught. I’m thankful that Rune magnanimously hasn’t told them yet. For now, I want to keep it that way.

Maeve’s lips purse as she chews another bite of hazelnuts. “So what’s our escape plan?”

Silence ensues. None of us has thought that far ahead yet. “What about the ball?” I suggest. “When they notice the fae are missing, there are three ways they can react. Locking the ball down, evacuating everyone, or keeping the guests ignorant. Either way, they have to let the guests go free eventually, and we can leave with them.”

Rune claps his hands together. “Disguises! I do love disguises. Maeve, have a talk with Nog and see what she can cook up.”

“The birthday balls are usually masked balls, if that helps,” Maeve pipes in.

“Perfect,” Rune replies.

“Not perfect,” I cut in. “I forgot about their ears. We all know there won’t be enough fae at the ball for them to blend in, if any.”

Brandur suggests, “We could disguise them as servants instead of guests.”

“They’d still stick out too much,” Maeve says, shaking her head.

Rune smiles. “Leave that part to me.” He gestures to everyone. “Now would be a good time to get your affairs in order. I won’t lie, this mission is a bit unconventional for us, more perilous than usual. We have one day to make this operation foolproof, and as always, I expect it to be.”

Brandur breaks away first. “I’ll perform additional reconnaissance.”

“I’ll sharpen my claws,” Min says.

Maeve grins. “I’ll make some extra tonics and distractions.”

“And I’ll make sure we all survive,” I murmur, already looking over the map again. The others leave, but even though I’m sore from riding and haven’t eaten a bite all day, all I can think about is this prison break.

A real chance to see Desmond again. To apologize. To embrace him. To hope that it’s not too late.

“Cyn,” Rune says, jerking my attention. I look up and catch his dazzling smile. “We make a great team.”

For once, I smile back. “Better than I’d like to admit.”

Chapter 50

“Why do you want to free them?” Min asks me. It’s the evening after I arrived back at the guild, and we’re gearing up to leave soon. I can tell she’s not trying to judge me. She’s curious. But still, the question pains me—probably because she knows I didn’t part with the fae on the best of terms.

I pace the kitchen, magic rippling along my skin in my nervousness. It makes the plates and pots clatter. “We became a team. We learned how to be friends, despite all our differences. And Desmond is right that the Hollowlands deserve to be independent. Avedor just waged war again. I know rescuing them won’t reverse the war declaration, but maybe it’ll do something. Maybe Desmond will find a way to stop the war.”

Thousands of lives hinge on it—and I’m responsible for it. The guilt is eating me alive.

“You have grown to like them,” Min notes.