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I wonder if any of the elves were caught up in this mess. I remember Noctus or Charon saying some of them worked in Magiford, and I’ve seen a few downtown over the summer.
I’d been careful to avoid them—which hadn’t been hard, I’d only seen them a handful of times.
Now that I was thinking of it, had I ever noticed any elves in Magiford before stumbling on the elven king? Their glamours wouldn’t have worked on me, but that didn’t mean much since I didn’t even know they existed. When I first saw Noctus I thought he was a European fae, and that was when he was cuddling me against his chest.
Peering out of the car’s windows, I watched the streets grow crowded with onlookers.
Thankfully, it seemed like the attack hadn’t caused a stampede—which was a real possibility as the breakfast crowd and caffeine seekers arrived.
Whoever did this chose the busiest time of the morning to…
The thought died in my brain when I glanced down the sidewalk and spotted two people—both were bleeding and had torn clothes from the glass shower.
They were supernaturals—the tapered ears were a dead giveaway. I probably wouldn’t have thought more of it, except one of the elves glanced at Pat’s car, and I realized that he had the elven spiral in the pupils of his eyes, and that I knew him.
It was Rodaric. He ran an armory and had made the leather harness I wore under my jacket that kept my daggers and sword in place.
Rodaric wasn’t wearing his monocle, but his gray hair and kind smile had marked him out in my memory, so I had no trouble recognizing him. His companion was younger, a female elf with her eyes wide with pain and fear.
Why are they so panicked? Were they hurt badly—wait. I don’t feel any magic. Elf, or otherwise. Their glamours aren’t working.
The pair crossed the street in front of Pat’s car, their fear making their movements quick and jerky. People streamed out of the café Joy, Pat, and I had eaten at, congregating on the sidewalk.
One pedestrian headed toward the chaos while several stayed where they were, talking on the phone. Two, however, were watching the elves with curiosity as the severity of the situation dawned on me.
Their glamours are down. People can see them! If a supernatural notices, they’llknowthey’re not fae!
Chapter Twelve
Chloe
Ishifted to my human shape and was out of the car before I was registering what I was doing. I looked both ways, but traffic had stopped from the chaos of the attack, so I was free to run after the elves, who were drawing more and more attention.
“Rod—” I bit off his name as I looked around—I didn’t want to identify him when his glamour was down and we were on the streets.
Thankfully he looked back at me, his eyebrows moving up when he recognized me. “Chloe!”
“Are you two alright? I have potions.” I slung my backpack off my shoulder—I hadn’t rezipped it yet in case I needed easy access to my weapons—and dug out my fae potions.
“Our injuries are minor,” Rodaric said. “We need to get…get out of the way.” He changed what he was going to say and glanced at the humans who were openly pointing to them.
I leaned into the pair as I handed them each a fae potion. “The clocktower?” I whispered.
They nodded.
“But, how? What do we do?” the younger elf asked, her voice wobbling as she popped the cork off her fae potion.
It was a miserable time to admit it, but Pat was right. I apparently shouldn’t skimp on my potions, because these weren’t going to do much more than take the sting out of their injuries.
I glanced back over my shoulder at the chaotic churn of the crowd that was quickly growing.
Pat is going to be so mad at me for this. I’m taking a chance since we don’t know for certain that the tracker isn’t tied to this but…
Noctus had sacrificed so much for their people, and this was going to reveal them if they didn’t act fast.
I fiddled with my backpack, rezipping it before I slipped it back on.
“Do you think they’re fae?” I heard someone behind me ask. “They’re so beautiful.”
