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“Ah.” Sighing, Saskia sat back on the velvet couch she’d chosen, tucked beside a warm fire in the small second-floor parlor. She should have ordered coffee, after all, to brace herself if their unpredictable fae ally was involved in whatever new crisis had arisen. “Has she already popped up again, then? Felix and I have both been working to design a spell that might break through her defenses and tell us where she’s hiding, but if that isn’t needed anymore…”

“Unfortunately, none of my spies have located her yet. However, the Golden Beacon has now been discovered missing by the Emperor—with evidence of fae magic at the scene.”

“Oh, darkness.” Groaning, Saskia shut her eyes for a long moment. “Lorelei, why?”

“She did promise to ‘deal’ with him as a problem,” Ailana reminded her. “She never actually told us how.”

“So she decided to restart the godsdamned war just when we’d managed to postpone it? Argh!” Saskia felt her crows rousing worriedly around the castle, responding to her rising emotions; she forced herself to send a feeling of calm reassurance to settle all of them, but the cushions on the couch around her lifted from their positions, twirling in tight, anxious circles to let out her anxious energy.

Ironically, just as Saskia’s own peace was shattered, Ailana looked to be regaining her composure. “The situation isn’t quite so dire, yet, as it could be. There was no evidence of Lorelei, in particular, to anyone who doesn’t know her as well as we do. So they’ll mount a manhunt within the Empire to begin with. After all, it could have been any fae who took him—and they haven’t managed to expel every fae citizen from their vast borders yet.”

“We don’t want any innocent fae put in danger,” Saskia said. “Nor would Lorelei.” Despite her maddening volatility, the Queen of Balravia had more than proven her loyalty to her fellow queens and to all of the magical denizens of the continent who were under threat from Emperor Otto.

“She would not,” Ailana agreed, “and that is what most concerns me. If she’d heard this news herself, she certainly would have made a public appearance by now to shower glitter on everyone’s faces and claim full credit for his abduction. For all Lorelei’s quirks, she has never tried to shift the blame for her own actions.”

“But if she hasn’t even heard the news … oh, no.” Saskia winced as the obvious explanation slid into place. “No wonder none of our spells have found her yet! We’re not only fighting her own magical shields—if she’s in the fae realm, none of us can reach her.”

“And if she’s carried him there with her, there may be no salvaging this situation … in more ways than one.” Ailana’s lovely face tightened. “Without General de Moireul taking his place in the Emperor’s private councils, there are no advisors left who dare even try to rein in Otto’s hubris. The last Imperial high priest is currently awaiting trial for so-called treason, which will carry a sentence of death—and according to my spies, the new Imperial high priestess never speaks at all. She only sits in smiling silence to lend divine blessing to every one of his plans.”

“Ugh.” Saskia’s nostrils flared with distaste. “So much for piety! No, wait, I remember—isn’t she Otto’s own sister?”

“She is,” Ailana said tightly, “and all the other advisors in his council chamber now are unscrupulous toadies competing to enable his every whim. General de Moireul is the only one left with both the power and the courage to stand against Otto when he finally informs them all of his plan to adopt Purification as Imperial policy.”

“I still hate that name for it,” Saskia muttered.

Bigotry would have been a better title for that growing movement fueled by hatred. Most archduchies in the Empire had already expelled their magical residents, leaving them to take refuge in the various independent kingdoms scattered around the Empire’s borders—but Purification, a cruel fanatic’s cause, called for magical creatures no longer to be allowed to survive at all. If Otto had his way, he’d use it as his guiding beacon to spread his empire all the rest of the way across the continent, leaving death and destruction in his wake.

“How long do you think we have until they discover who was behind the Golden Beacon’s disappearance?” Saskia asked. “Or until they decide to use it as an excuse to start the war regardless?”

“If we’re lucky? I’d say a week. If we aren’t…” Ailana’s nostrils flared as she took a slow, deep breath. “Perhaps two days, given the circumstances.”

“Two days,” Saskia repeated and made it a vow. They had two days left to track down their incorrigible friend and save all three kingdoms; between them, she and Felix would find a way to do it. “Very well. It’s time to get to work.”

9

Despite all the illusions and magical creatures around him, it felt surprisingly easy for Gerard to fall into the familiar rhythms of combat and rest. It was at challenge days like this that he’d first proven himself at the academy, years ago—and when he and Lorelei stepped off the tournament field after their first trial, they were greeted by a buoying roar of applause.

Of course, he knew it wasn’t aimed at him, the mortal stranger in their midst. Lorelei, for all that she ruled a mortal realm, was clearly still considered one of them and, even more clearly, had been missed. He shifted out of the way without regret as a winged and clawed crowd of her admirers surged towards her on the sidelines of the field, every fae attendee eager to greet and congratulate her for this first triumph.

Gerard came to a halt far enough away not to be trampled but close enough to keep a wary eye on his mischievous captor—and a hard, flat-handed blow hit the back of his bare left shoulder. Instinct dropped his hand towards the hilt of his waiting sword. Discipline curled his fingers together before they could clasp that hilt and start him down the path towards a rash new battle.

Keeping his expression unperturbed, he turned without haste and found an eight-foot-tall creature from a fairy tale beaming down at him with unmistakable goodwill. The broad antlers of a stag speared out from the fae male’s tawny, shoulder-length curls, polished hooves poked out beneath his dramatically billowing purple trousers, and the furred hand he’d clapped against Gerard’s shoulder in congratulations now pulled back in a friendly, beckoning gesture. “Well done with that basilisk!” he boomed deafeningly. “But you’ll need to dress yourself for your next trial. Come over to my stand, and we’ll see what I can do to cover you!”

With the autumn air prickling against his sweat-laced skin, it was a tempting offer—but Gerard cast a quick glance at the crowd that surrounded Lorelei and stayed firmly in place. “I appreciate the offer, but I had better wait for my partner.”

“Oh, she won’t mind. See?” The antlered vendor waved cheerfully above the heads of the crowd to catch Lorelei’s attention. “Princess! May I have the honor of clothing your partner, please?”

“Aw. Only if you insist on taking away all my fun.” Even without being able to see Lorelei’s face, Gerard could hear her theatrical pout in that teasing voice. “Put the cost on my account, please, and do help him find us drinks while you’re at it. Gerard, darling, don’t panic,” she caroled. “I’ll join you soon, I promise!”

With an effort, Gerard resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. “I’ll do my best not to panic too much in the meantime,” he said—and allowed his new, antlered companion to lead him into a scene of magical chaos.

Apparently, while he had been fighting his first trial, every vendor at the court of Efaelen had been busy creating a whole village-worth of small wooden stalls with an eyewatering assortment of goods on offer. Banners for each stand danced in the air above them without any visible support, while flashy illusions reached temptingly towards attendees from every side.

The actual payments changing hands made little sense to Gerard’s human eyes—could a simple acorn or a small brown leaf truly purchase a rich velvet cloak?—but with Lorelei as his promised sponsor, he was thankfully spared the challenge of working out any more dangerous fae bargains on his own. Within minutes, he had settled on the least garish tunic he was offered, belted it securely into place over his woolen trousers, and set out to find food and drink. He would need it to fuel all the trials to come …

And there were plenty of them.

Of course, time passed differently in the fae realm; Gerard had known that much for years. Even so, it was a shock to realize, several hours later, that the bright sun still hadn’t shifted in its arc across the sky.