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I kept my expression neutral as I poured my magic into the portal, cementing it to the ground, and making certain it was properly connected to the other gates in the clocktower.
I was only passable at portal magic, unlike a number of my subjects. Charon in particular was brilliant at it. But since the Paragon was sniffing around Magiford, and since Auron had sent a few unwanted messengers, I’d decided that my magic should be used to power the portals, in the hopes that anyone capable of sensing elven magic behind the screens of fae spells we’d set up would only detect my presence.
Thankfully, my vast magic could brute force make up for my lack of skill when it came to gates. They just had to work; they didn’t have to be beautiful. But my poor abilities meant I had to drop by every so often to top the gates off.
That task only took a few moments, and it gave me a chance to inspect the building while Ker dragged Aristide off to see her flower shop.
As if summoned by my thoughts, I heard the click of Ker’s nails on the smooth floor, and the tap of Aristide’s shoes followed by the noisy gurgle his straws made whenever he finished draining a blood pack.
“Back so soon?” I cocked my head, studying the gate, then pushed a little more magic into it.
“Indeed,” Aristide said. “We went to check out the flower shop, and three customers immediately left, their hearts pounding as if they were going to explode. Can’t understand why for the life of me.”
“It’s definitely not the blood pack you’re sipping on, or the werewolf of Hades that serves as your guide dog.” I glanced back at my friends.
I’d always liked Ker’s werewolf form. With her brown-black undercoat and red overcoat, she looked like a mixture of coal and fire. But, matched with her werewolf physique—which was especially impressive as she was larger than most modern American werewolves—she looked fierce even if she wagged her tail.
“Humans.” Aristide sniffed. “Always afraid of the wrong things. Ker, I need to throw this in the bins.”
“Trash cans,” I called to him as I added one last swirl of magic to the gate, then stepped back. “We’re in America, at the moment.”
“Oh, don’t Iknow it?” Aristide grouched as Ker led him to a trashcan pushed against the wall. We were in the basement, so the floor was relatively empty, having been built solely for my people to use the gate—the biggest of all the ones in the building.
“Charon?” I called. “I’m nearly done. What—”
Wild magic’s keening rose to what could only be described as the high-pitched scream of a red-faced toddler.
I frowned as the magic in the gate sloshed, destabilized.
“Enough,” I hissed at wild magic. “Why can’t you just go back tosilence? You were perfectly content with that for centuries.”
Wild magic, miraculously, cut itself off. For the first time possibly ever, it listened to my request.
Why does this not feel like victory?Suspicious,I studied the gate again.
It had stabilized, and its power would hold out until my next inspection.
“Is everything well, Your Majesty?” Charon asked, stepping out of the shadows with his customary tiny notebook in hand.
“It’s fine,” I said. “I’ve finished with the gates. Did you check the security footage for any visuals on the fae?”
Charon bowed, making his hood drape deeper over his head. “I have. He passed the clocktower the morning of the artifact accident.”
“You think he’s doing this solo?” Aristide asked. “We haven’t caught anyone accompanying him.”
Ker violently sneezed in her disagreement.
“We might not recognize his partners even if we caught them on our security footage,” Charon said. “Given that—as organized as he appears to be—it seems unlikely he’d bandy about with his cohorts and openly consort with them.”
I strolled away from the gate, heading for the staircase that led out of the basement and into an employees only section of the clocktower. “If he’s attached to the organization the Paragon spoke of like we’ve theorized, it’s probable that he’s working with others.”
Ker guided Aristide along, her ears swiveling as she listened to us.
I started to climb the stairs, but waited until Aristide was at the base to call back to him. “Stair, Aristide.”
“Thanks.” Aristide used his foot to find the first step, then gripped Ker’s harness with one hand and the stair banister with the other.
Ker waited until we reached the top of the staircase before she prodded Aristide in the hip as Charon climbed the last stair behind them.
