The door was three steps away.

  I didn’t make it that far.

  There was movement from behind, and a snarl, and then a blur of black cloth and pale skin as a hand shot out. I threw myself to the side, crying out and raising my own hands as a meager shield, but the blow was not intended for me; he caught the door just ahead and slammed it shut so hard the frame trembled.

  Gods, that wasn’t enough to even slow him down and now I’m going to die, he’s going to kill me, I’m going to die! What would happen in the waking world? Would Teela and Renner wake to find my body mangled and bloody in the bed? Would my fate be a gruesome, horrific mystery? I buried my face in my hands, shoulders hunched, and braced myself for whatever retaliation was about to come.

  “I have been,” every word was punctuated with a deep breath and the sound of fabric alongside something horribly wet, “Incredibly patient. Accommodating, even. And you dare-”

  A blaze of heat tore through my chest. The world spun sideways. All breath was torn from me and I fell sidelong against the wall, my head spinning.

  As if from very far away, I heard his voice raise. Shouting, snarling, threatening… me? Surely it was me, and yet... the words were strange. Unfamiliar, as if he were speaking a foreign tongue. He sounded very angry.

  Well. I’d be angry too, if someone stabbed me. Should’ve… should’ve kept going. Pushed harder. That’s what Durst would have done. And Renner, I bet. Stabbed him better. Ashes, I think I’m going to faint…

  The thoughts spun through my head as the ceiling whirled in circles. Was I on my back? There was something soft beneath me, and then that impossibly handsome, cruel face up above, snarling down. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead, and he seemed to be breathing hard.

  “-done yet. Stay.”

  “What…”

  A thousand pinpricks of silver glinted down. “That’s better. So you did lie. And now you’ve actually attempted to harm me. Mortal, you’re much bolder than I gave you credit for.”

  Slowly, the room came into focus and the spinning stopped. I could feel my heart pounding. My throat felt scorched.

  “Brin.”

  He paused. I sucked in air and then choked out, “My… my name isn’t ‘mortal’.” Warm tears slid from the corners of my eyes. It doesn’t matter what the owl said. Horace. If this is… if I’m about to… he should know my name. I doubt it will haunt him forever or anything so poetic, but…

  He regarded me silently. One hand- smeared with crimson, I noticed in nauseated satisfaction- lifted to press against his side. The fine silk beneath was wet and torn.

  “It’s Brin.”

  I closed my eyes as more tears slipped out. There. That’s it, then. I wonder if it will hurt? Maybe it will be very quick, and I won’t feel anything. I hope he makes it quick. Teela and Renner will be sad- or, Teela will, I’m not sure about Renner. Although he did say I was pretty, so surely he doesn’t hate me entirely. But they’ll be alright. And Durst… ashes, Durst…

  “Brin. Would you like to try again?”

  My eyes snapped open. The face above me was cold and calm and… amused? The corners of his lips were curved upwards.

  He lifted one bloody hand, palm-up… and held out the gleaming bolt. It was drenched in vivid scarlet.

  I clambered, still dizzy, to my feet. My pulse quickened. Try again? Surely he doesn’t mean…

  He stepped closer. I stepped back. “Mortal… Brin.” My name sounded dark and decadent on his tongue, and a shiver ran up my spine. “Five nights, now, you and I have conversed.” He bared his teeth. “Five nights, you have been entirely at my mercy. Yet I have not harmed you, nor threatened you.”

  “You-”

  “I have not harmed you, nor threatened you.” Another step forward, and he stretched his bloody hand out- clearly offering me the weapon. “I have, in fact, only attempted to speak with you. And I believe I have been quite patient, dare I say even gracious, in humoring your fits of anger and terror and grief throughout every attempt at conversation. But my patience seems to be getting us nowhere; you remain convinced that you are in danger, or need to run. Or, apparently, that you should attempt an extraordinarily ill-conceived assassination.”

  “I wasn’t…” I couldn’t seem to tear my eyes off the bloody weapon, which he was still offering me. Gods, what sick game is this? He’s toying with me, surely, trying to make me let down my guard before-

  “Take it. Stab me again, if it will offer you some measure of comfort.”

  I finally managed to look up. This close, I had to tilt my chin up to meet his gaze. His carved features were twisted into a sneer. “You’re… you’re insane.”

  “No, mortal, I am exasperated. Perhaps if I let you try to kill me for a while, you’ll finally realize that I intend you no harm.”

  “Let me… what?”

  “Five nights,” he repeated, moving even closer. My back hit the wall. “On the first, I saved your lover.”

  “Friend,” I whispered.

  He paused a moment, then continued, “On the second, I healed your wounds. The third… we did not interact, but my pets caught wind of you. And I am fairly certain they saved your life.”

  I shook my head in disbelief, eyes widening, as I recalled all-too-vividly the moment when Vessa and Forthys had been ready to kill me… and had then fled from distant snarling. “You mean… the howling in the mist? They’re what chased the other Fae off?”

  “Chased off? No. Not most of them, at least. But you seem easily frightened, so we need not go into detail about their fates.”

  I gaped, my mind spinning.

  “On the fourth… perhaps I did you no tangible favors, but I believe you are the first creature who’s tried to burn down my house and gone without consequence. I’m certain you’ll be the last.” His lip curled. “And you left a mess on the carpet.”

  “And… and the fifth? Tonight?”

  One black eyebrow lifted and his empty hand swept towards the ornate table and the little iron chest. “So far, I’ve tried to give you a book. The chest is yours, as well, if you can calm yourself enough to listen to my offer.”

  Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on the original website.

  “Your offer? F-for the shard, you mean- that’s what this is all about. Look, you can keep claiming to be benevolent but the truth is that you just want something from me!”

  “Everyone wants something. I assume you do, as well.”

  “I want lots of things, but you can’t… I don’t care what you offer or say, I’m not going to bring it to you.”

  “Why?”

  I gaped. “Why? You really have to ask? You tried to destroy Fellbrook! You nearly killed someone I care about!”

  “What happened to your friend was unintentional. My pet either disobeyed my instructions, and paid in blood for it, or… well.” Something dangerous crossed over his face and his eyes narrowed down at me. I flinched back, acutely aware that I was trapped against the marble. After a moment he continued, with a voice that was once again like velvet, “Your secrets can wait. For now.”

  I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand up and another shiver ran down my spine. “I don’t have any secrets.”

  Sharp, white teeth flashed. “Liar.”

  I grabbed the bolt. Lifted it. Steel-bright, silver-lit eyes glinted. “Ah, there’s that boldness. Now… did you want to try again?” His expression returned to one of dark bemusement. My heart skipped a beat as he moved still closer, until he was just a breath away. Both hands were spread out, palms-up, as if in surrender.

  I gripped the slick wood in one white-knuckled fist. And then I remembered, very vividly, that awful give when I’d shoved the weapon into his side. It wasn’t something I was eager to feel again. He waited as I stared up, jaw clenched and muscles taught… and then slowly lowered the weapon.

  “Good.” He stepped back, and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. “A word of advice; the weapons that your kind fashion to kill Fae are… inadequate. Dead ash, with only the memory of wanting to kill us. The power to follow through, at least with someone like me, is absent.”

  I looked down at the unmoving witchwood, my brows knotting together. “So this… it can’t kill you? But it can kill other Fae?”

  “Lesser Fae, yes. But for someone like me… unless you manage to bring an entire wretched tree with you, I’m in no real danger,” he finished dryly.

  I bit my lower lip and met his gaze warily. “Why are you telling me this?”

  He smiled again. It was a very small smile, wry and pleased, and his fathomless eyes glittered like jewels. “Because, Brin… you have, in the waking world, something that could kill me.”

  “I knew it!” The words came out in a triumphant hiss before I could stop myself.

  He chuckled. “Part of a weapon that destroyed one of the most powerful, ancient creatures in this entire realm… perhaps in any realm. And you’re just… walking around with it.” He gave his head a little shake.

  I felt my face grow warm and said, somewhat defensively, “I’m not just gallivanting around with it, I’m taking it somewhere safe.”

  His smile widened. Once again, I was struck by how very beautiful the expression was- and how sharp. “I expect nothing less.”

  He turned away and moved back towards the iron table, beckoning me to sit. I spent a long moment debating- and trying to puzzle through this conversation- and then cautiously walked forwards.

  He sat and picked up his glass of wine again. I eased myself into the other chair and, after a moment’s thought, very deliberately placed the bloody bolt onto the table. His eyes followed the movement and I could’ve sworn he smiled again, ever so slightly, before gesturing once more to the large book.

  “You’re right to try and keep that relic protected. Whatever human decided to affix one of the most powerful weapons in your realm to a statue…” He sneered and gave his head a small shake. “But, I digress. If you’re finally ready for an actual conversation, I’d like to explain why you should entrust it to me.”

  I snorted, eyeing the book dubiously. “I’m not going to believe anything you say. You have to know that.”

  He took another drink, draining the glass, then reached for the crystal decanter and poured more. I noticed that the amount of liquid in the crystal didn’t seem to lessen.

  Magic. It must be. I wonder… are other things in this place magical, in some way or another? I couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the idea. If something so mundane as a carafe of wine was enchanted… what other wonders could this place hold?

  “Mortal, you’ve made your mistrust of me painfully clear,” he said dryly, indicating the bloody bolt.

  “Was that a joke?” Before he could answer I flinched, half-rising from the chair, as frosty air whispered across my skin. I shivered and glanced about, but the room we were in was in the interior of his estate. There were no windows or openings for a draft to come through.

  “I have been known to make them. Look in the book.”

  I turned back and opened it slowly, half-expecting… I wasn’t sure what. Perhaps it would lunge off the table and harm me, or a monster would leap out. But, no, the first page was just smooth yellow parchment with very tidy handwriting scrawled across every inch.

  “‘Dictation: twelfth day of Elian. Absent: lord Em, lady Fi. Discussed: lord Sy. requests aid with boundary restoration. In favor…” I furrowed my brow, entirely at a loss. The lines continued, listing abbreviated names and places and many other things I did not understand. “What is all this?”

  He traced one finger along the rim of his goblet. “Dictation, as it says. I don’t expect you to understand most of it, but the records from our most recent meeting will be of interest.”

  “‘Our’?”

  “High Fae. Rulers and regents of fiefdoms within the Night Court. Among whom there has been some dissent, as of late.”

  My mind churned as I digested this information. It occurred to me that I was being given information that… well, that perhaps no human had ever heard. Fae didn’t just… tell people things about their realm. Or at least, if they did, those pieces of information never made it into the stories of horror and bloodshed.

  Assuming he’s telling the truth.

  I sucked in a breath… and then there were several very odd sounds from just behind me. The creaking of a wooden floorboard, a heavy exhalation of breath… and then a stifled whimper. I twisted around, eyes wide and hands clammy, but there was nothing there.

  Frosty air washed over me again, rustling my hair. He tilted his head to one side, apparently noting the movement, but made no comment.

  “Towards the end- I marked the page for you.” There was indeed a small crease in the later half of the book. I shivered, fighting down the feeling that something was very, very wrong, and turned my attention back to the book.

  “Dictation: third day of Belfain. Absent: none. Discussed: influx of pacted…” I trailed off, my eyes going wide, and continued to read in silence. The page continued in a jumble of many terms and names that I was unfamiliar with. But there were certainly quite a few words I did recognize; ‘raid’, ‘subjugate’, ‘prisoners’... I continued down the page, trying to make sense of it all. As best I could discern, it was a recounting of an attack on a human village. Following after was a heated discussion between High Fae about continuing to enter the mortal realm. Some were heavily in favor, and claimed they had been doing so with success… others seemed to be firmly against the idea.

  I looked up, unable to find a voice for the thousand questions whirling through my mind.

  He waited for a moment and, when it became clear that I had no idea what to say, offered wryly, “In case you’re wondering, I am one of those in favor of leaving your quaint human realm alone.”

  I closed the book. My fingers were trembling. “Why… I’m not saying I believe you, of course, but… why are you showing me this?”

  “For context, mortal. There is a… feud, shall we say, going on in this Court.” He grimaced. “An entirely pointless one. Some of my kind want to leave, you see… and claim a more permanent stake in your realm. They’ve been growing bold; amassing acolytes and information from human settlements.”

  My pulse quickened. What he was saying made a terrible kind of sense, when paired with what Teela and Renner had told me about how pacted and Fae were making appearances all throughout the realm. After years, decades, of near-peace…

  “Why now?” It was the first question I could manage to get out. “Things have been… since the Nightmare, there haven’t been many Fae in my world. What changed?”

  He didn’t answer for a while, just frowned thoughtfully. Then he murmured, “What do you know of my kind?”

  I hesitated. Why would he ask such a thing? My silence stretched between us and after a moment he added, in a tone that was almost gentle, “You need to answer my questions, Brin.”

  I felt the blood drain from my face. Gods, what am I doing? Sitting and just having a conversation with this… this evil, ruthless man? He may claim to be harmless, but all of this started when he nearly had Royce killed. Whatever he claimed about his intentions, there was no misremembering the callous dismissal he had eyed my bleeding friend with. His kindness had only come at a price.

  “Or Royce dies,” I whispered. My eyes fell to the bloody bolt, and for a wild moment I imagined picking it back up.

  He didn’t answer.

  “I know your kind prey on mine.” My voice came out like a stone; frigid and unyielding. “I… I know you’re monsters. Evil. Ruthless. That some of you keep humans as pets, as playthings, as food, and as gods’ know what else. And some of you make pacts with us, because I suppose helping my dying friend out of sheer kindness is just unthinkable for someone like you.”

  He regarded me calmly.

  I felt my hands trembling with anger and confusion. As I opened my mouth to continue answering, in as harsh and honest a way as I could, he reached out and opened the iron chest.

  I gasped. A pile of jewels, bright and large and glittering in a kaleidoscope of vibrant hues, gleamed up at me. There were diamond necklaces, bracelets of woven sapphire and emerald, ruby earrings and gilded topaz tiaras. Every gem I knew of, and many I didn’t recognize, sparkled flawlessly.

  “I am not familiar with mortal residencies,” his attention seemed fixed on my doubtlessly awed expression, “But I noted your home to be… ah, absent of finery.”

  I had a hard time tearing my gaze away from the mound of jewels. But I managed to do so and growled, “Durst provided for my every need.”

  His lips, as red as one of the rubies before me, twitched. “Needing and wanting are two very different things.”

  Hot anger at what he was trying to do flooded through me. “You can’t bribe me. And you haven’t even explained anything, nor given me any reason to trust you. And you never answered my question before. Why-”

  The table shivered beneath my palms. I flinched and withdrew them, just as the chair and walls began to follow suit. Very distantly, and at the same time somehow from just behind me, I heard a voice calling out.

  “Get up! Wake up!” Is that Renner? He sounds… odd. Frightened. That can’t be right.

  The world began to fade, colors bleeding into a swirling, vibrant palette. I looked up just as the Fae lifted his sparkling goblet. The wine within it was a brilliant shade of garnet.

  His eyes glittered with those endless, beautiful stars. As the world melted away I heard a soft, “Until tomorrow, Brin.”