Page 86 of Fae Farewells

I held my index finger up. “She’s right here, standing by herself. I’m fine. The headache is gone. My body feels better with every minute that passes. And I know how to fight without using any kind of powers.”

“Oh,” Thatcher said quickly, suddenly remembering something. “Bowers is leading them.”

“Radolphus Bowers?” Vaughn clarified.

“The CBP guy?” I tilted my head. “Isn’t his name Ralph?”

My fae nodded. “Yeah, but here, he’s Radolphus.”

“I thought he was... never mind.” I frowned at him. “Caplin said he’d moved to the UK. I just put two and two together.”

Vaughn paced for a beat, then stopped. “Bowers is leading them here under what order?”

“I haven’t been able to find that out.” Thatcher held his arms out, palms up. “No one knows. The guard that delivered the message said he didn’t see what was written, but it went up in flames a few seconds after Bowers read it.”

“What are the chances that they’re simply misguided?” Stone inquired.

Valano shook his head. “Radolphus has been a loyal follower of Alania for centuries. Those soldiers are his. They’re no more misguided than the lot of us.”

“So, he’s known about Alania since the beginning?” Palmer challenged.

“That would be my guess,” Val told him. “But I can’t say for sure.”

“How did they get here so quickly?” Vaughn demanded. “She had to have sent word at least a week ago. Maybe earlier, depending on what species the guard is that took the message.”

“Then we fight them,” I assured my fae. “We kill Alania and Bowers. If you want to save the guards, we can try. But they can’t be trusted near your sisters when we leave.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his fingertips in circles. “I don’t know that it will be that simple, Sloane. You’re talking about the elite of the summer realm.”

“I brought your weapons,” Franklin commented. “Thought you might need them…”

“How did you get weapons and Pete from Nashville to the portal?” Vaughn asked, momentarily distracted.

“With great effort and no help from the pedmar.”

Valano chuckled. “The ancient bastard took two trips.”

“You try getting him to do anything that’s not a direct order from Sloane.” Franklin pointed at the butterfly lazily flapping his wings on Novak’s shoulder.

“Pedmars are pack creatures.” The old king shrugged. “Giants are not. Until he’s in his true form, he’ll follow her lead.”

“What does a butterfly have to do with pedmars?” Thatcher questioned, confusion heavy in his tone. “They haven’t been seen in this realm for centuries.”

“The butterfly is the pedmar.” I casually tossed the information his way, grinning when he squinted at me.

He leaned forward. “I hate to tell you this, but that’s not how they work.”

I snorted. “I changed him into a butterfly. It’s my go-to disguise... Although I dropped three mouse-shaped hellhounds in your dungeon yesterday.”

“What?” he nearly shouted before lowering his voice. “What?”

“Mice?” Briggs asked, not understanding his outrage.

“Hellhounds,” Thatcher exclaimed. “What the fuck are those? I thought they were fake, fiction, nightmarish stories told by demons.”

Vaughn huffed with laughter. “They’re hellish dogs the size of your shift.”

“What are you?” I inquired before he could panic again.