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He narrowed his eyes as if he were trying to find deception in it but finally nodded. “I could use sustenance.”
“Princeling, this isn’t sustenance. This is living.”
Fordham grumbled something under his breath, but he followed her through the winding city streets until they came upon the Square. It was more or less the center of Kinkadia. A giant stone-paved square with shops boarding three sides and the ruins of a once-grand church taking up most of the center. Her heart clenched at the sight.
“What happened here?” Fordham asked. His gaze raked over the falling stones and burned-out roof.
“Something tragic,” she said softly.
“I didn’t think the Fae had a religion other than the Society.”
“Most don’t,” she agreed, turning them away from the church that still made her feel sick to her stomach. “This was a human church for the Laments.”
Fordham eyes widened slightly. “Humans built that? Without magic?”
She nodded. She’d always thought the twenty-story building with its sweeping spires and high, arched bell towers was a truly magnificent sight to see. Even burned and out of use, it still drew quite a crowd of tourists and followers of the Lament.
“Many humans still follow the way of the Laments, but after the protests and riots five years ago, so much of it has had to go underground or on the outskirts of town. Human religions aren’t welcome in such public places in Kinkadia. They draw the wrong kind of attention. There are small Lament churches on the outskirts of town. None quite as grand.”
Fordham looked perplexed. She wondered more and more what it had been like to live his life in the House of Shadows. By his reaction, he clearly didn’t have much interaction with humans.
Kerrigan tilted her head away from the church and stopped in front of a food cart. She ordered two meat pies and tossed coins to the seller. She passed one to Fordham, who took a tentative bite before his eyes doubled in size.
“What is this?” he asked.
She laughed. “Magic.”
He finished his pie in two more bites and went back for two more.
“I see you’re a fan.”
He finished off the next one in record time. “You were not lying about this.”
“Nope. The best damn pie in the city. Shredded quail meat with just a hint of spice. I don’t know what he does, but it’s the best.”
Fordham ate the third pie slower than the first two as they walked around the square. There were chocolatiers and candlemakers and cheese vendors. A glassblower was showing off her latest creations. A skilled blacksmith worked before a forge. Anything and everything a person could want was for sale in the Square. Only the finest quality and generally a few extra coins more than outside of the Square, but she figured for the experience and the quail meat pie, it was worth it.
“All right, we have veered off course enough. Where was his body found in comparison to this?” Fordham asked. “I cannot think that a dead body would be easily concealed in this neighborhood.”
“No,” she agreed, coming back to reality. This was about Lyam, not about gallivanting around the city with one wicked prince. “He was found in the Dregs, near the Wastes.”
“The Dregs… that sounds pleasant.”
“It’s a nickname for the neighborhood, but no one actually calls it Glenwoods,” she said with an eyeroll.
After a twenty-minute walk, it became completely transparent why no one called the neighborhood by its given name, instead going by the Dregs. The street grew narrower and narrower. A smell lingered in the air, as if sewage waste were still being thrown into the streets or there were too many taverns with customers vomiting and pissing nearby. Instead of Fae dressed in their best, musicians playing on the streets, and dances breaking out, there were taverns, taverns, and more taverns. Mostly humans, half-Fae, and some poor Fae lived in these parts. They walked quickly with their heads down, hastening to another job because most had more than one here.
Fordham’s brows came together, the deeper they walked into the Dregs. He was still in his crisp black-and-silver attire. She should have told him to wear something less conspicuous, but it was too late now.
He said nothing as Kerrigan led the way with ease, stopping when she reached the intersection the guard had given her earlier that day. It was a darkened alcove running off the main thoroughfare of the Dregs. She didn’t remember whether or not she had walked down this street the night of the ceremony. She had been in such a hurry that she’d all but run the entire way. None of her movements came back to her.
“This it?” he asked, stepping into the alley.
“Yes. This is what the guard said.”
She followed Fordham down the length of the alley. She tried to see what it must have been like at night, walking down this darkened cove. It was near a tavern, but everything was in this part of town. The alley opened on both sides. Not exactly great concealment for a robbery.
