Rituals & Recipes

Manhattan Magic #3 - A Cozy Urban Fantasy

Scott Walker

Firefly Tales, LLC

Contents

Books By Scott Walker

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Epilogue

About the Author

Acknowledgments

Books By Scott Walker

MANHATTAN MAGIC SERIES

(Cozy Urban Fantasy Series)

Melina Morgan has the sight: the ability to see through any fae illusion. But if the fae find Melina, they’ll kill her, which would, you know, totally ruin her plans for a quiet holiday at home. And that’s exactly what happens when a drunk dwarf lands in Melina’s backyard one night. In order to protect herself and her town, Melina will travel to the fae-filled city of Manhattan. Armed with a sliver of iron and her sourdough starter, Melina’s about to step into a world of magic, mystery, and mischief!

COZY VALES

(A Cozy Fantasy Shared World Collection)

If cozy fantasy is your cup of tea (or coffee - no judgment!), be sure to visit the Cozy Vales Queendom for a growing collection of books low on stakes but high on mystery, adventure, magic, and more!

THE LITTLE YŌKAI SERIES

(Urban Fantasy Procedural)

In a world where the Japanese supernatural spirits known as Yokai wander the physical plane, Bureau of Souls Agent Keiko Miller has an oath to protect the innocent and bring justice to the guilty. She also has a secret of her own: she's part Yokai. She'll have to protect that secret like her job and her life depend on it, because they do.

A Complete 6-Book Series

DELTA UNDERGROUND OPERATIVES

(VAL & TIMMERON)

(Urban Fantasy Dual Assassins)

She talks with the dead.

He communes with nature.

Can these opposites save the world?

After a secret organization recruits a death-dealing necromancer and a life-loving wood elf to become dualcasting assassins, the pair will have to work together to stop a deadly fae from zombifying the planet.

Cloak and Dagger

AMAZON VELLA NOVEL

(Urban Fantasy)

This year, Ivy Hunter got a lump of coal in her stocking the size of Cincinnati: her father died mysteriously on Christmas Day. Equally mysterious? The message he left Ivy, one which will send her down a path of magic, secret organizations, and monsters from beyond the mortal plane. Ivy's determined to find her father's killer - if she can live long enough.

Runed

ANTHOLOGIES

Folklore Tales of Old Japan

This collection contains seven short stories, all based on classic folklore tales from Japan.

Daily Story Seeds

With over 90 bite-sized stories ranging from dark to funny to whimsical, every mini-narrative in this collection has a seed of truth firmly rooted in our current world.

Learn more about Scott’s catalog

Chapter One

Despite everything I’d been through in the past two weeks, getting jump-scared by a ghost ranked surprisingly high on my list of “10 Things I Never Want To Experience.” Given who it was, however, I quickly forgave the spirit.

Adam Essein, former steward of House Vervain and my immediate predecessor, stood in his old library and smiled at me. I say stood, but a more accurate description would go something like this: his glowing form hovered an inch above the floor and moved around ever so slightly. The effect made him look like he was standing on the deck of a ship gently rocking on the water.

“I have a lot of questions, Adam.”

“I’m sure you do. Where would you like to begin?” His image futzed out of focus for a second. “Hmm. I don’t think I have as much time as I thought. Took me forever to project myself to the physical plane, but maintaining the connection is more difficult than I imagined.”

“Where are you?”

“An excellent question and one that’s worthy of an answer I’m afraid I don’t have time to fully explain. The short version is I escaped the Unseelie and Renard’s toadies by creating a pocket verse. Unfortunately, one of my attackers messed with my last-minute spell, and things did not go entirely as planned.”

“Are you okay?”

He nodded and examined his surroundings. “As long as the pocket verse holds, I should be fine. From what I can tell, it’s stable. The good news is that given my ethereal state, I require neither food nor water. The bad news is I believe I’m trapped here.”

“So, you’re not dead but also not alive. Check. How can we help?”

Another wave of multicolored static rolled across his image. “There really isn’t anything you can do, I’m afraid. I’ve jumped into an alternate dimension and locked the door behind me. The problem is, thanks to whoever tainted my spell, I no longer have the key to free myself. I escaped the frying pan and the fire, though now I have a different problem to solve.”

“I feel like there should be something we can do.”

“Thank you, and I’ll be the first to ask for help if I think of something. I promise.” His eyes looked above my head. “The crown looks good on you, Steward Morgan, as do your new eyes.”

“Thanks for the warning about that,” I replied with a hint of sarcasm. Okay, maybe more than a hint. “I thought green was your natural eye color.”

Adam chuckled and shook his head. “Chestnut brown. But I got used to my new appearance. You will, too. And the only ones who’ll notice are mages and the fae.”

“Somehow I don’t think you’re here to talk about fashion styles.”

The remaining mirth in his face disappeared. “I’m afraid that’s correct. Your introduction to House Vervain and the Manhattan fae should have been far less dramatic.” The smile returned, this time along with a look of pride. “Yet, you clearly succeeded beyond all hope. I’m so proud of what you accomplished, and I knew you were the right choice to lead Vervain.”

I snorted. “From where I’m standing, all I’ve done is gotten you killed and almost died multiple times myself. Hardly a stellar start.”

Adam floated across the room towards me. For some reason, I always thought a ghost with legs would walk. Go figure.

“Melina, I didn’t have much time left on this Earth as it was. I was down to months or even weeks, even if I hadn’t fallen to Renard’s mages and the Unseelie. And if I hadn’t closed the portal when I did, they may have followed you into House Vervain. Please don’t blame yourself for my current state.”

I accepted his compliment—and forgiveness—with a small smile of my own. His death had been weighing heavily on me, even after Thomas Crane, the Consigliere of House Vervain, had shared Adam’s terminal condition. Adam would have been dead soon no matter what. Hearing the former steward tell me I could drop the guilt should have been a relief. It wasn’t. The guilt stubbornly hung around.

“Well, it’s the smallest of starts,” I replied. “I don’t know how long Piter is going to lick his wounds before he develops an appetite for revenge.”

The ghost nodded. “He’ll still want this house and the Manhattan nexus. But I suspect you’ve bought us some time.”

“That’s mostly thanks to Steward Correia. She rallied enough houses in the Mage Council to put Renard in the penalty box. And she helped Thomas with the custom ritual for sealing my stewardship.”

“Correia can be fickle, but you can trust her. I don’t think you have to worry about the mages for the moment.” The way he said it, I knew there was a second part coming, and I knew it wouldn’t be good. I was right. “Steward Morgan, I believe your next challenges will be far closer to home.”

“If you mean the Unseelie, I already know about them. Wren’s sprites have reported the Unseelie continue invading Manhattan. Keg and Fynch have confirmed it, too. I need to do something to end the violence, but I still haven’t learned how to fully wield all the powers that come with the crown.”

“That will come in due course. Until then, I’ve no doubt you’ll handle the hurdles ahead just like you solved the problem with Renard. But I was being quite literal. I suspect you’ll find that having saved House Vervain, the real work is just beginning. And the threats are all inside these walls.”

I imagined Unseelie sneaking into the house, could almost hear the claws of a pack of boggarts outside in the hall.

“What do you know, Adam? Can you see into the future?”

The mage sighed. “A most definite No about peering into the future, I’m afraid. I may no longer be corporeal, but that doesn’t make me psychic. However, I have a hunch your next threat won’t be the Unseelie or the mages.”

“Are you talking about a traitor in the house?” The idea was horrifying, even if I found it unlikely, but the worse idea was me having to deal with a turncoat under the Vervain roof.

The ghostly image lifted his hands. “No, no, nothing like that. I mean that leadership—” His image went fuzzy again before clearing up. “—make difficult decisions.”

“You fuzzed out for a second, Adam. What’s that?”

He blinked out entirely, then returned in hazy black and white form. “—out of time. Tell them they can face anything if they remain a family. And tell them it was my greatest privilege to serve as their steward.”

“That’s it?”

The ghost’s face creased into a smile. “Tell Thomas to make sure he keeps the sugar container labeled.”

Chapter Two

Iwoke up the entire house, of course. Herded them into the kitchen and I relayed my encounter with Adam.

Thomas frowned in thought while Adriana, an elf and Claviger of House Vervain, drummed her fingers on the kitchen table. The other two members of the mage house, a dwarf named Kegster “Keg” Grimlock and an imp named Fynch, tossed around various theories about how to free Adam.

“Has this ever happened before?” I asked. “Is it like a mage thing to create these pocket verses?”

Adriana looked at Thomas, who was still lost in his own thoughts. She cleared her throat. “Not to my knowledge, though there are no theoretical bounds to magic. And Adam was quite talented. Thomas?”

“Hmm? Oh. No.” Thomas slowly stirred from his reflections. I couldn’t quite read his face. Was he sadder than before? Or was it just the shock of hearing his lover was not fully dead? “I’ve never heard of this exact thing happening before. Certainly pocket verses exist, but casting one on the fly in the middle of battle would be unprecedented.” Thomas leaned forward. “You’re sure he didn’t say anything else?”

That’s when his face took on a look I recognized: yearning.

“He did,” I said. “But I wasn’t sure I should tell you in front of the others.” Despite a flash of concern crossing his face, Thomas gestured for me to share Adam’s message. “He said to make sure you keep the sugar container labeled.”

Thomas’s face hung frozen for a moment before a small smile appeared. He chuckled once. Adriana and Fynch didn’t react, so it appeared I wasn’t the only one still out of the loop.

“Classic Adam,” Thomas said quietly as he stared at his cup of coffee. Whatever the message meant, he didn’t share it.

Adriana and Thomas asked me a ton of questions. I had answers, none of them useful.

Did Adam appear to be in pain? No.

Did he give any clue about where he was? No.

Had I done anything different or special right before he appeared? No.

Had I been practicing magic or my fading ability earlier? No.

While they grilled me, I twisted the silver ring on my right ring finger. The memory of Adam calmly pressing the ring into my hand and urging me through the portal in my backyard was still painfully fresh in my mind. Unseelie were closing in, and yet Adam spent his last few seconds ensuring House Vervain would continue, even if it meant he wouldn’t be part of it.

I was still getting used to the weight of the ring. How I would explain it and its monogrammed letter V to my friends back in Cold Creek, NC? A gift from a boyfriend named Victor? No, even my best friend, Dee Ashford, wouldn’t buy that story.

A family heirloom? That could work. I’d told Dad to explain my absence with a vague story about visiting distant relatives in New York. And in a way, that wasn’t wrong.

The ring was the official seal for House Vervain, and the only proof I needed to show to validate my status. But if anyone did ask for more proof, the crown of green light above my head would do the trick.

If you thought about it, Adam had given me the ring while he was still Steward of House Vervain, and he liked to refer to the members of the house as a family. Was it that much of a stretch to call the ring a family piece?

Adriana called for attention.

“I know we all want Adam back, and I know what we would be willing to sacrifice to make that happen. However, as much as it pains me, we have almost nothing to work on at the moment. Further, Adam is but one item demanding our attention. Sunrise is in a few hours. I suggest you all get some sleep. The days ahead may not be filled with the luxury of rest.”

Keg and Fynch headed down to the basement, AKA the Rave Cave, which meant they weren’t planning on going to sleep at all. More likely, they’d drink some of Keg’s home-brew ale, play video games, and ignore Adriana’s advice about putting Adam’s state on hold for the time being.

Thomas said he would contact Steward Correia and seek her advice. My guess was he’d be up all night, too, though not playing video games.

As if she was reading my mind, Adriana fixed me with a sympathetic but firm look.

“You are still healing from the dearg attack. I can tell by the limp. Please get some rest, Steward Morgan, and let us carry this burden for a little while.”

“I’ll try,” I said, “but don’t count on it. Also, please just call me Melina. Not sure I’m feeling all stewardy at the moment.”

“And yet you are, and you owe it to the house and its members to be the best possible steward. That is impossible if you ignore my guidance on healing.”

I rubbed at my leg, which still ached from being stabbed with a poisoned dagger. If it weren’t for Correia's assistance, I’d have died in a skeevy bar in Manhattan a few days ago. Instead, Correia's mages rescued me and returned me to House Vervain. Adriana took me to the grove, a kind of overlapping dimensional doorway between the fae world and the physical one, and used its magic waters to purge the poison from my body. I miraculously survived, but my recovery was far from complete.

I shuffled reluctantly upstairs before remembering I could just portal.

Being a steward had its perks, no doubt about it.

Apparently, my efforts to get some shuteye were more than sufficient, because despite my pessimistic prediction, I woke up in my bed with the sun filtering through a gap in the curtains.

I threw back the covers, put a robe over my t-shirt and flannel pants, and stepped into the steward’s quarters. I was halfway to the door when a flicker of motion from the corner of the room caught my eye. When I stopped and slowly scanned the room, I saw nothing.

Probably one of the hobs.

Adriana said they didn’t stick around rooms when people entered them.

Well, I just entered this one, so if a hob was leaving, wouldn’t that make sense?

One way to find out.

“Pinter, do you have a minute, please?”

The hob appeared a few seconds later. He saluted me. “Champion of House Vervain reporting for duty, Steward Morgan!” The two-foot-tall spirit removed his cloth cap, and his tousle of frazzled gray hair shot out in all directions. Pinned to his chest was the small metallic V I’d given him immediately after becoming steward. Naming him the house’s champion had been my first official act, and he’d taken to his new position with a truckload of enthusiasm, which was a lot, given his size.

“Thank you for appearing, Pinter. I know it’s uncomfortable for you.” Hobs generally didn’t like being seen by others and preferred working privately at night to clean and repair their homes. They also tended to sleep during the day. “And I apologize for waking you.”

The hob gave a slight bow. “I was already awake, no apologies necessary. How may I help?”

“Did I disturb one of the house hobs just now? I thought I saw something moving in here a second ago.”

Pinter scratched at his head in thought. “Terribly unlikely you saw one of us, Steward Morgan. Besides, I believe I’m the only one awake right now. But I’ll check.”

Before I could stop him, he blinked out of sight. A few second later, he reappeared. “Everyone else is still asleep. Whatever you saw, it wasn’t one of us.”

“Thank you so much for checking, and again, I’m sorry to bother you.”

The fae gave another flourish of his cap. “Not at all. I’ll be sure to keep an eye out and let you and Lady Adriana know if I come across anything unusual.” He disappeared again.

There was that title again. Only a few people had addressed Adriana as Lady. Pinter was one. The other was Katia Correia, the steward of House Coriander. I wondered if the elf really was royalty, and if so, why didn’t the other fae in House Vervain use the title?

I let the matter go as I turned in a slow circle and carefully examined the room. Everything looked fine, nothing appeared to be out of place.

Weird.

My stomach growled.

“I hear you, and I agree. Time for breakfast.”

I took the stairs down to the first floor, admiring the holiday decorations along the way. The fae celebrated the holidays, too, though for very different reasons than most mortals. For the Fair Folk, the end of the year marked a turning point.

The Seelie Court’s power peaked in the Summer Solstice and hit its low point at the Winter Solstice. The Unseelie Court’s power had the opposite cycle. As a result, the Seelie spirits celebrated the end of the year because it marked the beginning of the rise of their power and the decline of the Unseelie’s power.

Given House Vervain was occupied by three Seelie fae, the home had been decorated to celebrate the upcoming turning of powers in their favor.

The home was filled with the aroma of potpourri, and its walls and halls were covered in holiday decorations: pine garlands, wreaths of all sizes, lit candles, holly boughs, gold-colored flowers, and red ribbons. I’d dreamed of having a house that looked like this around the holidays, and it lifted my spirits before I’d even reached the heart of the house and my favorite room: the kitchen.

“Good morning, Steward Morgan,” Adriana said as I entered. “How did you sleep?”

She sat at the kitchen table, a teacup in her hand. She was going through a stack of mail while Fynch sat at the kitchen table and lounged in his mini chair.

“Well enough,” I said. “But please, just call me Melina. At least when we’re inside the house.”

“As you like. Oh, Wren’s invitation arrived!” The elf held up an indigo colored envelope with gold flowery writing,

“The Winter Solstice Celebration?” Fynch asked. “A little late on that, isn’t she?”

“Always, though I suspect she experiences time somewhat differently than we do.”

I suspected Wren experienced reality somewhat differently, too. The entity who controlled the Manhattan nexus was neither mortal nor fae. I’d crossed paths with her a couple of times recently in Central Park, which was her domain.

“Are we talking a party or something?” I asked.

“Only the biggest blowout of the year!” Fynch replied. “Wren throws a killer party every winter solstice at her castle. This year’s is in four days on the 21st.”

“Sounds great,” I said. And the timing made sense, given the changing of powers. “Hey, where’s Keg?”

“Still sleeping,” Fynch replied. “We were up late working on the boss level of Shattered Doors.” The imp grinned in triumph. “We completed the entire level on hardcore mode. The loot drop in that game is insane.”

“Great job,” I said. They’d been working on that level for two days. “Hey, Adriana, is there any chance a hob was in my quarters just now? I saw motion or something.”

The elf sipped from her teacup. “Even your gift of the sight should not allow you to see the hobs. And they are extremely fast. In any case, I doubt it was a hob. I can ask Pinter.”

“Already did. He said it wasn’t a hob, but I wanted to check with you.”

The elf’s eyebrows inched together. “I will inspect your quarters after breakfast if you do not mind. Hard to imagine anyone getting past our wards, but it will not hurt to have Keg make a sweep as well.”

Being the Sentry of House Vervain, I knew Keg would ensure the house was secure.

I nodded and got to work on Sourdough Joe’s morning feeding. “Morning, Joe. How you feeling today?”

The starter had always been rock steady, but ever since coming to House Vervain, the sourdough starter had taken off. He was peaking faster and fuller than ever before, with lots of bubbles and happy starter activity. He’d tripled in size overnight and smelled rich and yeasty, which more than answered my question.

I poured out most of the starter until I had the precise amount of mixture left in the jar. To that, I added water and rye and white flour, then stirred it all together. Sourdough Joe turned from a soupy mixture into a stiff goop.

“There you go, Joe. Bon appétit!”

The morning ritual had been part of my daily routine for as long as I could remember. I was helping Mom feed Sourdough Joe when I was a kid, and the starter had literally been with me my whole life. Along with the wooden spoon and mixing bowl Mom had given me, the items were more than just kitchen utensils; every time I touched them, I was connecting with Mom and keeping her memory alive.

The two loaves I’d formed last night had risen beautifully. I gently poked the tops, and the dough sprang slowly back.

Perfect.

I turned on the stove and set a couple of cast iron Dutch ovens in there to preheat, then started making a cup of black coffee. Thomas shuffled into the kitchen, still wearing his pajamas and carrying an empty coffee mug. He looked like he hadn’t slept a wink.

“Thomas, may I get you a refill?”

The consigliere didn’t respond. I repeated my question, and he looked up blankly. “Hmm? Oh, no thank you.”

Thomas didn’t just look distracted. He looked out of it and, understandably so.

“Any luck?” I asked.

He shook his head. “I reached out to a few more mages I trust, plus King Oberon and Queen Aine. I’m hopeful we can find a way to free Adam.”

“He’s not,” I began. “I mean, there isn’t any way for him to come back, is there?”

“No. Some things are beyond the powers of even a mage such as Adam. But having his spirit permanently trapped in a pocket verse is not acceptable.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure out how to free him,” Fynch said. “In the meantime, we need to talk about something way more upbeat. We’re still doing Pieday tonight, right?”

“Pieday?” Adriana asked.

The imp rolled his eyes. “Of all the halls in Hades . . . Yes, Pieday. We talked about this. Friday nights are now officially pizza dinners. I’m thinking takeout from Paola’s, maybe a pepperoni with extra cheese and bacon.” He waggled his tiny eyebrows.

“I’m in,” I said.

Adriana waved a hand. “No argument from me. But please get a vegetarian one for me and a cheese pizza for Thomas.”

Fynch looped once in the air and did a fist pump. “Now we’re talking!”

Someone knocked on the front door.

“I’ll get it,” I said. Our guest turned out to be Glimmer, who stood on the porch in the sunny but freezing weather. The sprite was glamoured up and wearing her usual outfit: a tan coat that almost reached the ground and heavy combat boots. “Hey. Come on in, we’re having breakfast.”

She nodded and followed me to the kitchen.

“Good morning, Glimmer,” Adriana said. “May we offer you something?”

“Bit of honey and a berry?” The sprite dropped her glamour. She flew over to Fynch and landed lightly next to him. “Hey, big guy.”

“Morning, G.”

“Here you go. Sit, eat, and be at ease.” Adriana placed a single blueberry in a sprite-sized bowl and added a drop of honey. She gently handed it to Glimmer, who took a clean knife and fork from Fynch’s small table and set to work on the miniature meal.

“Thank you,” the sprite said. “Apologies for the unannounced visit, but I have some news. Not the good kind, I’m afraid.”

Chapter Three

“What’s up?” I asked.

“We’re getting reports the Techgnome Bros are still crossing over into Manhattan, making trouble. Another sprite has been attacked.”

Well, buttermilk biscuits.

Adriana frowned and Fynch scowled. As for me, I’d feared something like this would happen. Renard had already wrangled some Unseelie to his cause in his attempts to topple House Vervain and get his hands on the Manhattan nexus. Even if the Council had put him on notice, there was every reason to believe the Unseelie would keep coming for the Manhattan fae.

Fynch smacked his fist into his palm. “Sounds like it’s time for some fireballs to the face. That’ll show the Unseelie.”

Adriana nodded. “Agreed. They need to understand that nothing has changed. Manhattan is still off limits to Unseelie.”

Glimmer diced her blueberry and placed a honey-covered bite in her mouth. “Ooo, delicious! Okay, here’s the thing, though. You know what’s going to happen if you start kicking that Unseelie hornets’ nest? You’re going to wind up starting a war you don’t want to finish.”

The sprite’s words received a decidedly cool reception from Adriana and Fynch.

The elf looked over her teacup at Glimmer. “You cannot possibly be suggesting we simply sit on our hands.”

“Pfff. Course not.” Glimmer waggled her newly healed wing. “The Unseelie attacked me just a few days ago. I should be the first in line to rally the flag, you know? But I’m not sure now’s the best time to go shaking that tree. The Unseelie are at the height of their power.”

“And I am not sure giving them confidence that they can tramp all over Manhattan without consequence is any better. What will happen if we do not respond? What will the other Unseelie across the river do? I am quite sure Adam would not have allowed this to go unanswered.”

The sprite popped another bite of berry in her mouth. “Last I checked, Steward Morgan is running House Vervain.”

The frostiness of the conversation added to my unease. I was still woefully unprepared for my duties as steward, and hearing Adam’s name mentioned only compounded the pressure I felt.

I could open a portal. I could use my sight ability. My fading was getting rather good. Those seemed painfully unhelpful for preventing Unseelie from hurting others. Yet, even if I could toss fireballs like Fynch or swing a magic weapon like Keg, I wouldn’t want to. There had to be another way.

Thomas and the three fae looked at me and waited for my response. I bought myself some time. “Mom always said, ‘Never make important decisions on an empty stomach.’”

I sliced two thick slabs of sourdough bread and tossed them in the toaster while I gathered my thoughts.

“Okay,” I began, “Glimmer has a point about the Unseelie being at their most powerful right now. That’s a definite check in the Do Nothing column. But I agree with Adriana that doing nothing won’t help. That’s a solid check in the Do Something column.”

I crossed my arms as if I’d just made a super insightful observation or delivered the conclusion to an airtight argument. The other fae shifted in their seats.

“And your decision would be?” Adriana asked.

Still stalling and hoping my brain would come up with something to derail the idea of attacking Unseelie, I said, “Well, if we aren’t going to use violence but we also aren’t going to sit back, the obvious answer is we have to find another alternative.” I smiled and offered them a confident look.

“Perhaps your mother was right. Please have some more bread,” Adriana said.

My brain finally dropped into gear. “No, hear me out. In the past, how did Adam handle situations like this?”

Fynch answered, “He’d patrol the island and kick out any Unseelie he came across.”

“And how long was he steward?”

“Almost thirty years,” the imp replied.

“Right,” I said. “I mean zero disrespect to Adam, but if his approach didn’t work after three decades, maybe we need to try something new.”

Adriana wrapped her hands around her teacup and sighed. “Steward Morgan, I have the utmost respect for you, and no one here would dare question your bravery or resourcefulness. You defended yourself against a farrow and survived multiple encounters with dearg elves.”

“But?” I asked.

“But—and I say this with care and concern—you are not fully apprised of the situation regarding the Unseelie. If you were, you would follow in your predecessor’s footsteps.”

“Sometimes the way over a wall can only be seen with fresh eyes.” We all looked at Glimmer. The sprite shrugged. “What? Maybe our round-eared friend is right. But she still hasn’t told us what she has planned.”

She looked at me and raised her eyebrows, as if this was all some orchestrated plan between the sprite and me. I rolled with it.

“Who’s the leader of the Techgnome Bros?” I asked.

“A male gnome named Dexx,” Adriana replied.

“Okay, here’s my plan: I want to meet him. Maybe we can talk through whatever the problem is.”

The elf sighed, and the amount of restrained exasperation was evident in her tone. “The problem is the Unseelie want to take over this world and enslave or destroy everyone in it. They will not listen to reason. They are not interested in peace. And they only respond to power. That is why we must strike back, immediately and with such force that they will think twice about setting foot in Manhattan anytime soon.”

Fae fighting fae? Responding to violence with more violence? That felt like a non-stop escalation with zero winners.

“Adriana’s got a point,” Fynch chimed in. “I’ve been around this world for a long time, and I’ve never known a good Unseelie. And they’ve been invading Manhattan for centuries. The only reason they haven’t overrun the island is because the Vervain stewards have used the power of the Manhattan nexus to keep them at bay.”

“Look,” I replied. “All I’m saying is fighting hasn’t worked, the nexus clearly isn’t enough, and the Unseelie are at their strongest. Maybe now’s the best time to try something new.”

“Which is exactly why the Unseelie will reject it,” Adriana said. “They know they have the upper hand. Why would they retreat?”

The claviger was doing a good job of keeping herself under control, but the tightness in her voice had ratcheted up noticeably during the conversation. I didn’t like the growing tension between us, especially with the weird power dynamics at play.

On one hand, I was just a mortal. Adriana had no obligation to do as I asked. On the other hand, I was the steward of the house she chose to live in, and she’d accepted the title of claviger. That title came with no small amount of loyalty to the steward of the house.

She may have been willing to lay down her life for Adam and even to protect me, but that protection sprang from her respect for Adam—not from some innate loyalty to me. Saving House Vervain had earned me a certain amount of respect, though I was painfully aware how easily that might be washed away.

Whether she admitted it or not, there was a line beyond which Adriana would not follow me. And I sensed we were a lot closer to that line than I realized.

“Respectfully,” I said, “all I’m hearing from you and Fynch is your theory about how the Unseelie will react and why they will or won’t do something. I don’t want to answer for them, and I want to give them the chance to surprise us. I’m up for meeting with Dexx and trying to find a peaceful resolution. I’m willing to put my life on the line to stop more fae bloodshed. Are you?”

I softened my tone, but the question still came out with the edge of a taunt. Anxiety gripped my chest as I waited for the elf’s response. Seelie or Unseelie, fae could still be prickly when it came to having their egos bruised.

Glimmer’s eyes went wide, and she tried to hide a grin. She glanced at Adriana, who set her teacup on the table.

The elf stood. “If it is your wish to meet with Dexx, I will not object.”

“I’ll arrange it,” Thomas said.

Fynch held out his palm, and a fireball materialized above it. “And I’ll be there to make sure those gnomes don’t get any funny ideas.”

I may not have known everything about the fae world, but I was quite positive the last thing it needed was more fireballs to the face.

The steward’s retreat on the fourth floor of the house was a small, circular room with a lot of windows and plants and two comfy armchairs. The walls were a mix of built-in cabinets, drawers, and bookcases.

Some previous steward—maybe multiple ones over the years—had turned it into one of the coziest reading nooks I’d ever had the pleasure of using.

The armchairs had wide tables next to them which could hold a stack of books and still had room for electric mug warmers. Someone had installed a toaster, a coffee maker, and a mini fridge. Succulent plants were scattered about the space.

The view wasn’t awesome when you were standing. The buildings on either side were three stories tall, so I looked down on the air-conditioning equipment and an ugly roof.

But the natural light made the space feel warm and inviting, and once you were settled into a chair, the view was much improved.

Getting an armful of books up the spiral staircase from my quarters and the first floor library was a snap thanks to portaling, and the practice was good for me.

When I finally cracked the first book, I had a piping-hot cup of black coffee sitting next to me and a blue, black, and white tartan wool blanket draped across my lap and legs. A plate with my sourdough toast pieces, covered in apple butter, rested on the arm of the chair.

My original reason for going to the retreat was to fill in some of what Adriana called the “gaps in my fae education.” No doubt I had tons, and the collection of family journals had proven to be wrong on so many counts that I no longer bothered consulting it.

Besides, the library downstairs was filled with books on fae, most of them written by the fae. Short of visiting the Seelie court and conducting one-on-one interviews, could I possibly start with a better source?

The secondary reason was Morton Electronics. I needed to let them know I couldn’t finish the digital camera manual on time, and I needed to let them know ASAP. Emailing my client manager, Sam Dorchester, seemed wrong, but I’d been putting off the call all morning, which probably was worse.

My laptop mocked me from across the room while I spent two hours avoiding my fate and trying to soak up what I could of fae culture, specifically gnomish culture.

The research proved fascinating but ultimately not very helpful. Gnomes were generally inquisitive, inventive, and prone to humor. Like dwarves, they often valued familial connections, and took a more lighthearted approach to life than, say the elves. Frivolity and pranks were not uncommon.

The books delivered less information for the Unseelie gnomes, and what they had wasn’t particularly insightful. These gnomes twisted their love of pranks into harmful, malicious tricks. They were far more selfish and prone to break from blood ties than their Seelie counterparts. And, of course, they were far more likely to use violence to achieve their goals.

I closed the last book. My plate of toast was now a plate of crumbs, my coffee mug was empty, and my guilt had reached levels I could no longer ignore. Time to make the call.

“Hey, Mr. Dorchester. It’s Melina Morgan.”

“Hello, Melina! How are things going with the manual?”

I went straight to the heart of the matter. “I won’t be able to finish it.”

A very long pause followed. “You won’t be able to finish it in time?”

Ugh. This was killing me.

“No, sir, I’m afraid I won’t be able to finish it at all. I’ve had something come up, a personal matter. I’ve had to take a trip out of town, in fact. I’ll send you everything I have. And I don’t expect to be paid, so don’t worry about that.”

Another long pause. I pictured him loosening his tie and undoing the top button of his shirt as the words sank in.

Morton was already behind on the launch of the camera and any delays in the manual were only going to make things worse. Me bailing out halfway through the project meant they would have to find another tech writer and bring them up to speed.

I knew that was not just unrealistic, it was impossible. I’d just delivered some mega bad news to Sam, and he was going to have to deliver the same bad news to his boss. My call was just the first in a series of uncomfortable conversations.

“I must say I’m surprised and disappointed. You sounded quite confident about delivering the manual.”

Even though you gave me half the time to do it and were still lowballing me on the price. But, yeah, I had been confident.

Then I got a visit from a strange mage and his lover, and then a couple of dearg elves tried to attack me, and then I was portaled to Manhattan and met a bunch of fae and, well, you know how it is.

“I know what kind of impact this will have on the project. I’m very sorry.”

I heard papers being shuffled in the background. “As am I, as am I. Please provide all the deliverables you have and return the documents you have immediately. I’ll have HR conclude your contract once we confirm receipt of everything. If you’ll excuse me, Ms. Morgan, I have to go. As you might imagine, my day has suddenly gotten extremely busy.”

“Yes, of course, and I—”

The call ended, which felt somewhat predictable. I opened my laptop and emailed Sam all the work I’d done. Then I texted Dad and asked if he could swing by my house and drive the bags of documents to Morton’s headquarters in Raleigh. Part of me wanted to portal right into Sam’s office and drop everything off, but I resisted that urge for several reasons.

I shut down my computer and sighed. The call had been as bad as I’d feared. No more Morton work, that was for sure.

Still, I felt better for having slipped loose of that albatross. Sam’s bait and switch on the deadline and the paltry pay did not excuse what I did. I could have said no or pushed for more time and money. I didn’t, so that was on me.

Having swallowed my pride and admitted defeat, however, left me feeling lighter and freer. I had no great passion for technical writing. It was a way to pay the bills while working from home. Emphasis on the word was.

Thinking about home reminded me of Millie’s recent Christmas party at her diner and my monthly Slumming Saturday tradition with Dee Ashford. We always scheduled our December hangouts out right before Christmas. This year, that meant we’d get together Saturday the 24th, which was only eight days away.

Getting home wasn’t a problem. I could skip the planes, trains, and automobiles hassle, thanks to my portaling ability. The issue was leaving House Vervain. Should I invite the fae to Dad’s to celebrate Christmas? Would they even want to go? How would Dad feel about it?

Dad had already told me he wasn’t ready for a trip to Manhattan, portal or no, and Dee had her own family to hang with Christmas Day.

The conflict between choosing who to spend the holidays with and where to celebrate them hit me out of the blue. I’d been so busy trying to save House Vervain and then recovering from the dearg’s poison that I hadn’t had time to realize my life was quickly diverging from Cold Creek.

Suddenly, I had to choose who to be with, and I didn’t like having to choose one bit.

I collected my plate and mug, turned for the spiral staircase, and nearly dropped what I was holding. An all-white kitten with the biggest ice-blue eyes sat curled up on one of the window ledges. And I mean big eyes, like way too big for this to be an actual kitten.

Just to hammer home the point, the not-kitten’s tail moved lazily into view and looped protectively around it. Unlike the animal’s body, which was covered in thick white fur, the tail was barbed and reptilian looking.

And as if I still hadn’t realized it wasn’t a kitten, two leathery wings briefly extended before folding back into place.

The animal’s eyes locked onto mine, and the tip of its tail moved back and forth.

“Hello,” I said. “And who are you?”

The animal gave a quiet mewing noise and vanished.

Chapter Four

Ibrought my dishes to the kitchen and left them in the sink for the hobs. Adriana had scolded me enough that I finally broke my habit of cleaning up after myself. Even Pinter had begged me to let the house hobs do what they loved. I finally relented.

I sliced up an apple and went looking for Adriana. She was in Thomas’s office, talking with the consigliere. Their conversation came to an abrupt halt at my appearance.

“Hey,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“I’ve reached out to Dexx,” Thomas replied. “Waiting to hear back. Adriana has briefed me on your plan.”

No need for him to elaborate. His face was filled with disapproval.

“You don’t agree, either,” I said.

He shrugged, leaned back in his chair. “I’m honestly skeptical about the prospect of you striking some sort of accord or peace treaty, but my larger concern is your safety. The TGB are known for being wildly unpredictable.”

It took me a minute to realize Thomas had used an acronym for the Techgnome Bros gang.

“Well, perhaps that will work in our favor, and they’ll be unpredictably open to ending their attacks.”

Thomas’s skeptical expression remained steadfast. “Perhaps. But as I said, my worry is your safety. You aren’t planning on receiving Dexx here, are you?”

“No, though I hadn’t given it much thought. I guess Manhattan’s off the table for the time being, so it’ll have to be somewhere else. Any suggestions?”

Thomas laughed. “Oh, it won’t be up to me, and I highly doubt you’ll have any say in it. Dexx will likely pick one of his home courts, either his office or a local watering hole.”

Everyone acted like they had Dexx’s number. Maybe they did. They’d been around this community for decades. I’d arrived a week ago.

“On a completely unrelated note,” I replied, “I just saw a kitten-dragon upstairs in the retreat.”

“A what?” Adriana asked.

“A small creature that looked like a white kitten with big blue eyes and a tail and wings. About five or six inches tall. It meowed at me and vanished.”

Thomas leaned forward. “That doesn’t sound like any dragon I’ve ever heard of. Adriana?”

The elf shook her head. “Dragons in the fae world are scaled creatures, and even their young are much larger than kittens. I am not familiar with the creature you are describing. What else did it do?”

“Nothing. One second they wasn’t there, the next they were. We stared at each other for a few seconds, and they vanished.”

“They ran off?”

“No, I mean they literally vanished.”

“That definitely does not sound like a dragon,” Adriana said, with a frown on her face. “I am curious how they got inside the house. I will have Keg check the wards just to be sure, but if a dragon had attempted to pierce the house wards, we should have known about it.”

“Could they have portaled here?” I asked.

Thomas shook his head. “Mage houses are warded against that, for obvious reasons. Still, the creature may have entered magically or bypassed the wards somehow.”

“Is it possible you imagined it?” Adriana asked. “I am still learning the unique ways mortals process their life experiences, but it occurs to me you have had a very stressful time lately. The trauma of losing Adam, seeing Fynch being tortured by the dearg, your injury and poisoning—that is much to shoulder in such a short period of time. These may have caused you to experience certain things as if they were real.”

“It wasn’t an illusion. And I’m fairly certain they were the same thing I saw in my quarters this morning.”

“You said you did not get a good look at the creature,” the elf replied.

“I didn’t. But connecting those dots isn’t hard.”

She smiled. “I am simply trying to reassure you that we are safe within these walls. I believe that you are seeing something, though I cannot explain what you experienced. Neither Keg nor I found any evidence of an unwelcome entity anywhere in the house.”

I smiled back, glad she was no longer dismissing my claims. “Well, I’m just the court reporter on this. As you’ve pointed out, I’m no expert on the fae. Not to change topics again, but what’s up with Pinter calling you ‘Lady Adriana?’”

If our conversation about how to deal with the TGB had been uncomfortable, Adriana’s reaction to my question was off-the-charts awkward.

“Oh, that is simply Pinter’s way of showing his affection.”

“But Steward Correia used it, too.”

“That is impossible.” The elf may have been a gifted healer, but she was a terrible liar.

“When I met with her a few days ago, she referred to you as Lady Adriana.”

The elf dusted nonexistent dirt from her hands and got to her feet. “I am sure I have no idea why she did that, nor do I much care. I am going to wake Keg and have him check the house.”

She left the office and took the stairs down to the Rave Cave.

“Thomas, do you know about the title?”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I’m not at liberty to say.”

Well, that was a cagey reply.

“But you do know about it.”

“As I said, I’m not at liberty to discuss it.”

He looked pained, and I let it go. No point pressing him to divulge whatever secret he’d been sworn to keep private.

“Okay, I won’t ask again.”

Thomas’s phone dinged. He checked it. “Well, looks like Dexx has accepted your offer. He’ll meet you later tonight.”

Chapter Five

Thomas had been right. Dexx invited me to come to his office in the Williamsburg neighborhood in Brooklyn. Thomas said it’s where the gnomes spent most of their time during the day, hanging out and trading various cryptocurrencies.

I’d had to talk the consigliere out of coming along, and the more I thought about it, the less inclined I was to have Fynch tag along. Thomas was a mage and a house consigliere, which meant he had two strikes against him as far as the TGB were concerned. Fynch was Seelie and seemed a tad too fireball happy.

Keg was also out of the question, as his presence alone would likely put the gnomes on edge.

Which left Adriana and me. And honestly, the two of us rolling into the lion’s den alone felt like the best way to not ruffle any feathers. Presuming Dexx had even a shred of integrity, he’d follow suit.

Or he’ll see an opportunity to remove the head of House Vervain and clear the field to the nexus.

Hey, maybe have a little more optimism, would you?

The meeting wasn’t until nine that night, which left a lot of time to fill. I asked Adriana to join me on a walk around the area, hoping we could soften some of the friction between us.

The streets around House Vervain were decorated for the holidays. Menorahs looked out many windows. Wreaths hung from several doors. Trees were covered in lights, and the horse-drawn carriages were decked out in style.

Clouds had slid across the sky, and the temperature was noticeably cooler. I wore my winter coat, hat, and gloves. Adriana had put on a long green coat and let her hair down.

The cold didn’t bother me one bit. There was still snow on the ground from the last snowfall, and the city was as pretty as a posy. At night, Manhattan was breathtakingly, achingly beautiful. I could have walked across the entire island without complaining.

“I appreciate you supporting me,” I said to Adriana. “I know you think I’m being foolish.”

She looked at me in confusion. “Foolish? No. I do not think that. You were thrust into a world much larger than you were aware of, and not only did you navigate it admirably, you achieved what I honestly thought was impossible. Foolhardy, perhaps, but not foolish.” She delivered the last part with raised eyebrows and the hint of a grin.

“Fair enough, and no argument from me. But I know you don’t agree with my plan to handle the gnomes.”

“Here is what I know. You have a good heart, and you mean well. And you have taken extraordinary steps in your life to change your views on the fae. I will be eternally grateful for everything you have done to save House Vervain. My hesitation about your plan is certainly rooted in your well-being, but it also extends to the fae of Manhattan. If the TGB continue their attacks, more fae will suffer.”

That made me feel better. Not the more fae will suffer, but the part where she shared that her resistance wasn’t solely a lack of faith in my ability to strike a deal with the TGB. Here I was, thinking she was being critical of me, when she was carrying the weight of every Manhattan fae on her shoulder.

“Neither of us want that,” I replied.

“Yet, some solutions have higher probabilities of succeeding than others. I fear yours puts you, House Vervain, and the Seelie fae unnecessarily at risk.”

“I understand. May I politely point out that the TGB have been routinely harming fae, even under Adam’s time as steward? And may I add that he chose me for a reason?”

The elf slipped her arm through mine as we walked. “Melina, I am more than aware of that, as I am equally aware of my duty to protect, mentor, and guide you as you step more fully into the stewardship. Even if you can be as stubborn as a loxl.”

“A what?”

“It is a fae saying. Loxls are known for being difficult to manage. The closest analogy would be the mule or the donkey.”

I patted her arm. “I’ve been called a lot worse than that.”

Adriana guided me around the neighborhood, which turned out to be filled with lots of fae residents and businesses owned or run by fae. A pair of selkies ran the New Look, Nu U clothing shop. Some dwarves ran a hardware store. A sprite ran a used bookshop.

The fae community was deeply interwoven into the larger Manhattan community, and the idea of them having to leave was heartbreaking.

I felt the pressure to make sure they didn’t have to live in constant fear, as well as Adam’s expectations that I had the potential to be a better steward than he’d been.

Most of the fae we encountered were friendly and welcoming. Some were shy or reserved. Whether Adriana’s presence made a difference or not was impossible to know, but I was glad she was making the introductions.

“Thank you for showing me around,” I said. “It’s important for me to get to know more fae.”

“Does that mean you will be keeping your crown for a little longer?”

I looked sideways at her. “What do you mean?”

“As I said, I know you gave up much to come here. I know about Morton Electronics. I also know I have not seen you working on your project for several days.”

“Hmm. You don’t miss much under the Vervain roof, do you? Well, I may as well tell you. I officially quit the project today. The client was not happy, and I don’t blame him. I feel awful about that.”

“But not awful enough to keep working there.”

“Ha! No. No, though I’ve burned my boats for sure.”

Adriana repeated my sentence. “I am not familiar with that phrase.”

“It means that door is now permanently closed. I can’t work there again, and they could have given me steady work.” I snapped my fingers. “All gone, just like that. Now, I have to figure out what to do with my house.”

“Are you not going to keep it?”

“I can’t afford it unless I have a job.”

“Oh.” The elf flicked her fingers in a dismissive gesture. “I thought it was something difficult to solve.”

“Hey, I don’t know about things in fae land, but for mortals, money is incredibly important. I owe the bank a lot of money.”

“I understand your currency, and if it is money you require, House Vervain can provide.”

“It’s a lot of money,” I replied hesitantly. I told her the balance of my mortgage.

“I can have the funds sent to your bank today if that will ease your mind.”

“I . . . Thank you. Let me think about it.”

“As you wish.”

On the surface, having my mortgage paid off would be amazing. Any other time, I’d probably have jumped at the opportunity.

But taking money from Vervain felt, well, not quite like charity but something equally unsettling. There were lots of people in the world who needed money more than I did. If there was an ATM in Vervain, I didn’t need to be cutting in line for a withdrawal.

And then there was the sense of obligation, which was bolstered by my lifelong fear about owing a fae any kind of debt. Adriana had assured me the Vervain fae wouldn’t hold that over me or use it against me. Still didn’t feel right.

On the other hand, why was I holding onto the house if I really had made the decision to stay in Manhattan? Was it a fallback option, something I could turn to if things didn’t work out up here? Was it because if I sold it, I’d truly feel like a visitor in Cold Creek instead of a longtime resident?

I’d have to think about that, long and hard.

Adriana’s face grew concerned as we rounded a corner. “That is not good.”

A knot of people stood outside a shop ahead, most of them fae glamoured up as mortals. Fae carried debris from inside the store to a large trash can on the sidewalk.

The shop was a bakery. WFS Bakery, to be precise, and based on the sign, it stood for the Water Flour Salt Bakery. Breads and baked goods.

“What’s going on, Bethina?” Adriana asked.

One of the fae, a female elf, turned around. “Someone broke into the bakery after we closed. They’ve destroyed our stock and most of our equipment.”

I peeked through the door. Bethina wasn’t exaggerating. If the bakery was a snow globe, it looked like someone had shaken it vigorously before throwing it against the wall.

Bethina’s eyes flicked over my head, no doubt seeing my ethereal crown. “You must be Steward Morgan. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise, though I wish the circumstances were better.”

Bethina grimaced. “Yes.”

“How can I help?” I asked.

The elf looked temporarily unsure how to answer. “I’m sorry?”

“I’d like to help. Where would you like me to start?”

“Oh, that’s quite thoughtful, but it’s not necessary.” The poor elf looked helplessly at Adriana for guidance.

“Steward Morgan has her own views on her role in the community.”

Bethina looked impressed. At least, I hoped that’s what it was. “Well. I suppose if you’d like to help clear the debris, that would be great.”

Adriana gave me a bemused look that contained something else I couldn’t make out. She followed me into the bakery, and the full extent of the damage was worse than I’d thought. Whoever had trashed the place had been methodical and thorough.

Bethina worked alongside me, perhaps on purpose. “I know you are the new steward, but do you know you are replacing someone I greatly admired?”

“I barely knew him, but everyone I’ve spoken with had nothing but kind things to say about him.”

The elf swept up pieces of broken glass. “He was a mortal and a steward who vowed to protect fae. He was not like the other mages.”

“Yes. Happily, he may not be dead—”

Adriana interrupted me. “At least, not as long as we keep him alive in our memories.”

Bethina nodded and said, “Indeed.” She turned to me. “You are a mortal and a steward. Will you protect the Seelie in Manhattan?”

“I mean, I don’t fear the fae like I used to.”

Bethina snorted. “Why would you fear us?”

“Well, my mother . . . You know what, it’s a long story. The short version is, I want to protect the fae. I’ve risked my life before, and I’ll do it again if I have to.”

“Yes, I have heard of what you did. How you survived the farrow. How you survived the dearg. You are impressive, Steward Morgan, but surviving is not living, and living is not the same as protecting. You see the difference?”

I nodded. “I do.”

“And you realize some fae, even the fae who benefit from the protection offered by House Vervain, they bristle at the source of that protection. Seelie should not have to rely on the benevolence of a single steward for their well-being. We should be free to live our lives without fear, and, if necessary, we should be free to defend them.”

The elf’s words found their mark, and I couldn’t summon an argument. After learning of Vervain’s history, I had presumed all the Manhattan fae were automatically thankful for having a haven.

Safety was relative, of course. The Unseelie were a constant threat who relentlessly made their presence known. But the lump in the dough wasn’t the Unseelie; it was the knowledge that, were it not for House Vervain, the Seelie wouldn’t even have the quasi-secure home in Manhattan. That House Vervain was technically part of the very same mortal community who wanted all fae dead or kicked off the mortal plane was salt in an open wound.

I’d lived my entire life in fear of fae, and now I was standing next to a fae who feared me and everything I represented. Talk about having the tables turned on you.

And it got worse. Reading between Bethina’s lines, I also had to worry about the Seelie retaliating against the Unseelie.

“Bethina, I can’t pretend to have any idea what it’s like for you or the other fae here. All I know is I’m here, and I’ll do everything I can to protect you.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

She didn’t act like she was.

Two hours later, we’d gotten almost all of the damaged or destroyed equipment and broken cookware into the trash. Some were trying to repair what they could, others were assessing what was salvageable from the back area.

“Our starter is gone, along with all of our inventory,” Bethina said after coming out of the fridge. “They even took the backup starter we had in the freezer. We have nothing. Even if we had all new equipment, we have no way to bake anything.”

“I bake sourdough bread,” I said. “And I have a starter. I can make a large batch and have it to you tomorrow morning.”

“That is very kind of you, but—”

Adriana interrupted the elf. “Steward Morgan is not only an accomplished baker, she has a decades-old sourdough starter that has been handed down through her family for generations.”

Bethina’s expression changed instantly. “We would be grateful and honored to receive your gift.”

“Of course.”

“Before you go, Steward Morgan, may I ask you a question?”

“Certainly.”

“Earlier you said you would protect the Seelie. How?”

“I’m sorry?” I asked.

“How. How exactly do you plan to protect us from the Unseelie?”

“Well, later tonight I’m meeting with Dexx, the leader of the Techgnome Bros.”

“Almost certainly the ones responsible for this,” Bethina replied. She made a complicated gesture with her hands I didn’t recognize. “And once you are face to face with Dexx, what will you do?”

“I’m going to talk with him. Hopefully, I’ll convince him to stop attacking fae.”

Bethina’s eyebrows climbed near off her forehead. “I look forward to hearing how that goes.”

Finding the trashed bakery had put a damper on our walk. On a more positive note, Adriana seemed less prickly. Even if she didn’t have a lot of faith in my plan, I was relieved she’d dropped some of her frosty attitude towards me.

“Hey, why didn’t you want me to tell Bethina about Adam?” I asked. “You trust her, don’t you?”

“I do. However, until we have a better handle on things, I would prefer to keep that clover close to our hearts.” I added that to my list of fae sayings. “If Renard and the Unseelie believe Adam completely lost, that may work to our advantage.”

“Makes sense.”

We stopped in at a café to warm up. The place was hopping busy and decorated six ways from Sunday. Almost all the patrons were fae: dwarves, goblins, elves, brownies, selkies, sprites, and more.

I got a lot of smiles, nods, and a few frosty greetings. I wondered if Adriana had warned them we were coming. Surely, they couldn’t all have known what I looked like.

“It is your crown,” Adriana whispered as she waved at a fae across the shop.

I did a mental facepalm. Right. My crown of green light was visible to every fae. So much for being able to walk around incognito.

I ordered a dark-chocolate latte, and Adriana asked for a peppermint tea.

“Here you are,” one of the sprites behind the counter said. Her long brown hair was braided into a complicated design, and her hazel eyes were filled with happiness, like she couldn’t possibly be doing anything more enjoyable than making drinks.

She placed the coffee mug on the counter and rubbed her thumb and finger together over the drink. A tiny waterfall of gold dust fell onto the foam and formed a crown just like the one above my head. “A dark-chocolate latte for our newest steward.”

“Thank you,” I said and held out my credit card.

“On the house,” the sprite replied. “My name’s Isla, and I own the café. Your money will never be accepted here, and we would be honored to have you visit as your schedule allows.”

I glanced briefly at Adriana, my old instincts briefly kicking in.

Take a gift, give a gift,

Is the only way

To safely exchange

Items with the fae.

Adriana nodded, and I picked up the mug.

“Kind thanks, Isla. Please let me know how I can be of service.”

Adriana’s tea came next, and I could smell the peppermint. The elf and I grabbed a table that opened up and sipped our drinks.

“Holy moly,” I said. “This is the best latte I’ve ever tasted!”

“There is a reason they call this the Stardust Café,” Adriana replied with a knowing look on her face.

I glanced at the golden crown design floating atop the foam of my drink. “No. Can’t be.”

“Oh, but it is. That is actual stardust.”

I leaned forward. “They use magic to make it taste so good?”

“Mmm-hmm. Isla is one of the few fae who can capture stardust. Starlight is easy, but stardust? Takes a very different and extremely rare talent to collect that.”

“It’s not addictive, is it?”

The elf laughed. “No, you silly mortal. Perfectly safe. But if you like the coffee, you should take some of the chocolate brioche buttons home. I know the boys will love them.”

Chocolate brioche buttons were not something I’d ever heard of, but now that I had, I absolutely needed to try them. And by try them, I mean buy a dozen to go.

Isla handed over an indigo box with a falling star across it and again refused to take my money. “Give my best to Fynch, Kegster, and Thomas.”

“I will,” I promised, and resisted the urge to open the box right then and there. Barely.

Outside, a light snow had started falling. I put on my gloves, hat, and scarf, and kept the box of buttons safely tucked under my arm. The snow brought a hush to the city. The sounds had a muffled and subdued quality to them.

“What was that gesture Bethina made with her hands?” I asked Adriana as we strolled back to House Vervain.

“It is an old custom and one you do not often see these days. It has its roots in a curse, but these days fae use it to emphasize their displeasure or disapproval of someone or something. It is also somewhat vulgar. I am surprised she used it.”

“I can understand why she’d be upset. Actually, I thought she was pretty chill about the whole thing. All of them were.”

Adriana shook her head. “This is where your lack of exposure to elves reveals itself. Bethina is furious, as are the rest of the fae back at the bakery. They will likely be out tonight, hunting for Unseelie.”

“What? Really?”

“Melina, she said it herself. The fae should be free to defend themselves.”

“Hunting and defending are kind of opposites,” I replied. “Will they hunt outside Manhattan?”

“No. Not yet, I think.”

“Phew. I was worried they were going to take the fight to Brooklyn.”

“Oh, they may do just that before this is over. I hope you are a gifted speaker, Melina, because you will have a difficult time convincing Dexx to bend to your will.”

Like I needed the reminder.

Chapter Six

The chocolate brioche buttons lasted exactly twenty-seven seconds. I’d barely gotten to the kitchen when Adriana called out, “Delivery from WFS!” The other three Vervain members tumbled into the kitchen.

Adriana ate one of the pastries, I had two, Thomas had one, and Keg and Fynch split the rest.

“Thank you, Steward Morgan,” Keg said as he licked the chocolate from his fingertips. “That hit the spot.”

“It’s just Melina inside these walls, okay?”

He smiled and nodded. “You keep bringing these home, and I’ll call you whatever you like!”

“What did you learn about the wards, Keg?” Adriana asked.

“All set and working, as far as I can tell. I don’t know what exactly Melina saw, but it slipped inside without disarming or tampering with the wards.”

“Or triggering them,” Adriana replied.

The dwarf grunted. “I’ll dig around the library and make some inquiries around town. Might be a good idea if Thomas checked with the mage community, too.”

The consigliere cleared his throat. “I’m happy to do so if everyone feels that’s best, though I caution against such an inquiry at this time. Renard is no longer snapping at our door, and we’ve garnered the support of a handful of houses. We have a reprieve, however temporary. I’d feel more comfortable limiting my question to Steward Correia.”

“Agreed,” Adriana replied. The dwarf and imp concurred.

“Sounds like a great idea, Thomas,” I said. “Thank you for your guidance.”

He nodded. “I’ll take care of that now.”

I was back in the retreat, having portaled another stack of books up the spiral staircase. The library was certainly nice and all, but the retreat had a cozy feel I couldn’t resist. And the snow was still falling, which made for the perfect view out the windows.

I’d just gotten settled when my phone rang.

“Hey, Dad, what’s going on?”

“Thought I’d check in on my daughter, make sure Manhattan is still treating her well.”

“I just had the most delicious chocolate brioche bun thingie in the world. I am being treated extremely well. How are things in Cold Creek?”

“Oh, the same, I suppose. Nod’s still hanging around, and we share the occasional glass of whisky.”

“Occasional my monkey butt,” I replied and laughed. “I know how much that dwarf can drink. How many bottles have you two plowed through?”

“I don’t think I much care for your tone, missy.”

“What’s my tone got to do with it? Do you even hear yourself? You’re drinking with a dwarf!”

A short pause followed before he replied, and his fluster was easy to detect.

“Well, it’s the least I can do, given how he’s protecting me and watching out for Unseelie. Am I supposed to sit in my warm house while he’s out in the cold—”

“Dad, I only meant that a few weeks ago, neither of us would have dreamed of being where we are. And yes, you’re right. It’s the least you can do. Nod’s a great guy. Please give him my best.”

Of course, when someone saves your life, you kind of lose your objectivity. Not that I’d change my tune about Nod. That dwarf was a rockstar.

“I will. How are things with the fae up there? You still believe you’re safe?”

“From the Manhattan fae, yes. From the Unseelie who keep coming into the city and trashing the place? Not so much.” I brought him up to speed on the recent attacks and my plans to meet with Dexx.

“Talk about out of the frying pan into the deep-fat fryer.”

“That’s not how that goes,” I said.

“It’s close enough. What are you going to do if talking doesn’t work?”

“Adriana, Fynch, and Keg seem to think I should tap into the nexus and start tossing fireballs around.”

“But you don’t think that’s a good idea, which is why you’re trying to talk things out first.”

“Got it in one, Dad.”

He sighed. “I don’t have any more insight into things than I did last week. You’re still the reigning expert on the fae, which means you know best how to solve this problem. But I’m sure you will. You always do.”

I wished I had his confidence.

“So, um, will you be coming home for Christmas?” he asked.

“Oh, for sure. Speaking of which, I need to confirm a Christmas Eve Slumming Saturday with Dee.”

“Great. You know the routine.”

“Breakfast at ten, presents at eleven, TV till dinner.”

“Got it in one, kiddo.”

I said goodbye and hung up, suddenly worried about my ability to make good on my promise.

Dinner was a decidedly mixed affair.

Paolo’s pizza was a hit—Fynch polished off two large pizzas all by himself—but Thomas had skipped the entire meal. He left before dinner and said he had some personal things to take care of. We were told not to wait up for him, as he was spending the night somewhere else.

Adriana privately told me that Thomas hadn’t spent a night outside of House Vervain in years, which didn’t ease my concern.

But what was I going to do? Order a grown man to stay home? Tell him he was grounded?

Thomas was still keeping to himself. I could only imagine the emotional pendulum he’d been riding. The love of his life became terminally ill, then fell while fighting the Unseelie and a fellow mage’s forces. Before he’s had a chance to process that, he learns his soul mate is stuck in a spiritual limbo with no way home. At least, not yet.

Even Keg, my favorite dour dwarf, was especially quiet. Fynch’s barbs and banter slid off his friend like water from a duck’s back. My attempts to engage Keg were met with monosyllabic and halfhearted responses.

The pair eventually retreated to the Rave Cave, and Adriana excused herself and headed up to her room.

Which left me alone and deep in thought.

Adam’s words resurfaced, now with a new and more troubling context. Thomas was grappling with the loss of Adam. Keg was suddenly acting reserved, though I had no idea why. Adriana and I seemed to be getting along better, but I worried we’d clash again soon over our differing views.

Were these the internal threats Adam was talking about? Or was there more to come? And if so, what might they be? How could I deal with them?

I distracted myself with Sourdough Joe and the two loaves I was prepping for tomorrow morning.

I held up the glass container holding the sourdough starter. “What do you think, Joe?”

A single bubble popped. Might have been helpful if I knew sourdough starter language.

I wrapped up the two loaves in plastic and placed them in the fridge for a night of cold fermentation. Next, I took all of the discard from the starter and weighed it. Not nearly enough to get the WFS kitchen rolling at full speed tomorrow, but that wasn’t the point.

Each new batch of starter could spawn another batch. And each new batch could be fed far more water and flour than I normally used to keep Sourdough Joe happy.

Within a few days, we’d have a whole family of little Sourdough Joes filling the café’s kitchen, and pretty soon, they’d be back in business.

I held up Sourdough Joe, Jr. “Okay, little guy, I need you to bubble and grow like never before. We have to help the elves at WFS, and that’s going to mean a lot more of you.” I held the jar close to my mouth and whispered, “I know you can do it!”

I reached for the light switch, and a voice in my head spoke up. It wasn’t my voice.

I don’t suppose you have any raw meat in that metal box?

I spun around. There, on the kitchen counter, was the kitten-dragon.

Chapter Seven

“What did you say?” I asked.

I said, you wouldn’t happen to have any red meat in that big metal box, would you? I’m awfully hungry.

The kitten-dragon absently licked a paw and stared at me with its impossibly large blue eyes.

“I think so,” I replied. Sure enough, I found two big steaks, almost certainly earmarked for Keg or Fynch. I took one out.

Oh, yes, that looks tasty!

I looked between the kitten-dragon and the steak, which had to be half the size of the mysterious creature. Well, kittens were cats, and cats were carnivores, so was it that strange for the kitten-dragon to ask for raw beef?

I put the steak on a cutting board and lifted a knife.

What are you doing?

“I’m cutting this down to your size,” I said.

First of all, you don’t need to vocalize. I can read your thoughts if you direct them to me. Secondly, I demand the entire steak.

“You can read my mind?”

I can read any thought you intentionally send to me, even if we are not in proximity.

Can you hear me now?

The creature rolled its eyes, which was extra dramatic, given their size. Of course.

Well, excuse me for testing. Here. I slid the plate over to the kitten-dragon. The voice sounded female, so I automatically thought of the creature as a her. My name is—

Melina Morgan, and you are the steward of House Vervain. Yes, I’m well aware.

How?

I’ve been quietly observing the inhabitants of this home for days.

What’s your name?

Nice try, pet.

“Pet? Did you call me pet?”

The creature bit off a tiny mouthful of the steak. Oh, this is divine. I’ve been so hungry.

There were fruit and scones and cookies and even bread on the counter. I had a hard time believing the creature couldn’t have ripped open a bag or opened a container if they had been starving. And the fact that they hadn’t revealed themselves at dinner was perplexing, too.

I have to call you something if you won’t tell me your name.

Your choice of appellations is beneath me.

The kitten-dragon might be an eleven on the cute scale, but they were a twelve when it came to rudeness.

I think I’ll call you Snowpuff.

No.

Fine. What do you want to be called?

Bloodclaw.

Um . . .

Or Bonebiter. Yes, that has a nice ring to it. Alliterative, as well.

I don’t think . . .

Oh, how about Doomwing?

Yeah, no, I’m going to stick with Snowpuff.

The creature glared at me and took another bite. Careful, mortal.

Look, I’ve just about had enough of your attitude. You asked for food, and I fed you. I’ve been nothing but nice since you appeared, and all you’ve done is insult me. I’ll kindly ask you to leave if you don’t change your attitude.

Snowpuff—no way was I calling her Bloodclaw or Bonebiter or Doomwing—laughed. Almost choked on her food, actually. That is just too much, I must say. Ask me to leave. Like you have the power.

I glanced at the silver ring on my finger. I still hadn’t been shown how to tap the power of the Manhattan nexus, but Snowpuff didn’t know that.

Lifting my hand so the ring pointed at the creature, I said, “If you know what this signifies, then you know I can draw magic from the most powerful nexus on the planet. Are you sure you want to continue taunting me?”

Well, look who decided to show her claws. Listen, I didn’t mean power as in having the ability to force me to leave. I mean, you wouldn’t, even with the nexus at your fingertips. I meant you and I are currently tethered together. I can’t leave you, and you can’t leave me.

You better start from the beginning. Where did you come from, and how long have you been here?

Snowpuff took another bite. She was methodically working her way through the steak, and I realized she might even finish it.

Four days ago, I stumbled upon your prone form in the fae world. I could tell you were badly wounded. You were alone, which felt both wrong and terribly unsafe. I felt compelled to heal you and watch over you.

I’ve never been to the fae world.

Oh, you most assuredly have. Otherwise, our paths could never have crossed.

Four days ago, I’d gone to rescue Fynch from a bunch of dearg. I succeeded in freeing him but not without getting sliced by a poisoned dearg dagger. Adriana had brought me to the magical healing grove inside House Vervain.

Wait, did you heal me?

Snowpuff shrugged and wiped its whiskers. I helped accelerate the process, though things did not go as I’d planned. Instead of just using my magic to heal you, some of my soul got transferred to you as well. That’s how the tether was established. Then the elf appeared and carried you back through the portal. I had no choice but to follow. I need my soul back.

I struggled to follow Snowpuff’s recounting, but the one thing I was quite sure of was that I didn’t want any part of her soul any more than she wanted to be without it. Just take back your soul. I certainly don’t want to keep it.

Snowpuff’s wings flexed and resettled. Do you think I haven’t tried taking it? We are, for the time being, connected. I am working on a way to make us not so. Until then, I shall unfortunately need to remain close to you, and I shall require sustenance. I will die otherwise.

Look, this is all over my head, but Adriana is a talented healer. I’m sure she can figure out how to fix this.

That is a recklessly ill-advised idea.

Why?

It would be best for all involved if my presence remained a secret. At least until I’m able to remove the bond between us.

I sighed and rubbed my face. “I don’t understand.”

I know. Just trust me, pet.

Before I could question Snowpuff more about that bombshell of a revelation, she promptly winked out of sight.

Chapter Eight

“Who are you talking to?” Adriana asked as she swept into the kitchen.

I looked around, just to make sure Snowpuff really wasn’t visible. I didn’t see her.

Adriana had heard me talking, and I wanted to tell her about Snowpuff. However, the creature had warned me not to tell anyone. Now I had to choose who to trust: the kitten-dragon or the elf.

I went with the elf, even though I knew Snowpuff might be listening.

Pointing at the now-empty plate, I said, “That white kitten-dragon I saw before? It was just here.”

Adriana searched the room. “I do not see anyone. Pinter, would you please come to the kitchen if you have a moment?”

A split second later, the hob appeared and saluted. “Champion Pinter, reporting for duty.”

“Thank you,” Adriana said. “Melina has seen that mysterious creature again just now in here. Do you see a white dragon? Have any of the hobs reported anything unusual?”

“The room is empty save the three of us, Lady Adriana. And no one has mentioned anything unusual to me.”

“Thank you, Pinter.”

Another salute, and the hob vanished.

Adriana spread her hands in the air. “I believe you are seeing something, but I highly doubt it was a white dragon. Even a newborn dragon is three or four times the size of the creature you described. And as far as I am aware, none of the dragons from my homeland are adorned with fur. They all have scales.”

“Are they telepathic?” I asked. “Can they turn themselves invisible?”

The elf thought for a moment before responding. “I know of no confirmed instances of either, but both are possible. I take it the creature did not attack you?”

I shook my head. “Just wanted some red meat. I gave her one of Keg’s steaks.”

“I will make a note to order more steaks, as Keg was planning on having those tomorrow night. As for the red meat, that is something dragons would consume. And did you just say ‘her?’”

“Her voice—the voice I hear in my head—sounds female. I call her Snowpuff. I don’t think she likes that name, and I didn’t like the names she gave me.”

“That certainly sounds like something a fae creature would do.” Adriana checked the clock on the wall. “Given it has not been violent and does not appear to have ill intentions, we will deal with this later. We need to leave now if we are to be on time for our meeting with the Techgnome Bros. Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” I lied.

We grabbed Keg from his video game match in the Rave Cave and had to persuade Fynch to stay behind. I already thought having three members of House Vervain attend the meeting was too much, but Adriana and Keg said they wouldn’t go at all if I didn’t bring the dwarf along.

Fynch was beside himself and absolutely convinced he was about to miss out on what was sure to be a situation where fireballs to the face were required. I placated him with a promise that I would help him with his magic card tricks the next day. The imp was still trying—and failing—to do what he called “real” magic.

Despite the weather and the time of night, we had to resort to a cab to get to the TGB office in Williamsburg. Dexx had made it clear we weren’t allowed to portal anywhere near his office. To avoid even the smallest chance of getting off on the wrong foot, we agreed not to portal at all. The TGB might have members anywhere in Brooklyn, and even Adriana agreed fae have been known to use even the slightest word or action to justify unexpected responses.

Unexpected for mortals, though not at all inconsistent or illogical. The fae were just as logically consistent as mortals. The disconnect, as Adriana had been explaining, came from my limited knowledge of the cultural norms for fae.

Mortals were the ones expecting the fae to behave like us, even when fae culture and societal norms didn’t neatly map to mortal ones. The problem was us, not them.

Keg flagged down a cab, and we piled in. He’d barely said two words to me all day, and he showed no sign of being any more social at the moment.

“Resist the urge to argue,” Adriana said to me, “but do not let him push you around.”

“Got it.”

“You must present a confidence that cannot be construed as arrogance.”

“Okay.”

“And no matter what happens, you must never let them know about your sight. That alone would be sufficient grounds for them to attack you.”

“Sure, fine, no problem. Should I also sing while holding my breath? Because I can do that, too.”

Adriana sighed. “I know this is a lot. But you need to know what you are walking into. The stakes are, in some ways, higher than your recent encounters.”

Keg stirred himself out of wherever his mind had gone. “If anything happens, get behind me. I’ll carve a path out.”

The cab driver didn’t seem to be paying any attention. Even if he was, he’d have no clue what we were really talking about.

And I got Adriana’s warning, loud and clear: if I messed this up, a lot of fae would suffer.

The TGB office space took up the top floor of a swanky mixed-use building. We’d arrived a few minutes early, just before nine o’clock. The neighborhood looked nice. People strolled down the snow-covered sidewalks.

I pushed the call button on the speaker next to the front door. Security cameras had the entrance well covered.

Snowpuff hadn’t made herself visible, and if what she said was true about us being tethered, she must be close by. I discreetly looked around but didn’t see her.

A male’s voice came through the speaker. Lots of people were shouting in the background. “Yeah?”

“I’m Melina Morgan. Dexx and I are supposed to—”

The door buzzed, and Adriana pushed it open. We stepped into the swanky lobby, all marble and glass, and hit the Up button for the elevator.

“So far, so good,” I said under my breath as we stepped inside. Adriana pressed the button for the fourteenth floor. Even before the doors opened, we heard loud voices and laughter. The elevator deposited us into an empty reception area, but finding the TGB members was a breeze.

We rounded a corner and walked through a set of double doors made of thick glass. Beyond them was a cross between a Wall Street trading floor and a frat house. Three dozen gnomes were scattered around the room.

In one corner, they were doing keg stands. In another, they were playing video games on a sofa-sized screen. The rest were lounging in the center of the room, busily typing at their cell phones. I caught snippets of conversations.

“Yo, you see that trade? Twelve-X, baby!”

“Lulzcoin is trash, bro, you should have kept your stake in Deargcoin!”

“You just FOMO’d your way out of a thousand dollars, Twobit!”

None of them were glamoured up. I had no idea which fae was Dexx, and no one seemed to notice us. Adriana and I watched the spectacle for a few minutes before one of the gnomes realized we were there. He had dark-green hair, a short beard, coppery skin, and gray eyes.

“Hey, boss, we got company!”

A gnome with wiry, dark-purple hair and bushy eyebrows stood up in front of the TV, a controller loosely held in his hand. His lavender eyes contrasted with his dark-brown skin.

“Who is it, Hodl?” Dexx asked.

The gnome said to me, “Who are you?”

“I’m Melina Morgan, and this is—”

Hodl yelled back, “It’s that mortal mage!”

The TGB leader gave a head tilt to the gnome and handed off the controller. A lot of the gnomes were now watching Adriana, Keg, and me. I liked it better when they were ignoring us.

Their casual disregard spoke volumes about either their arrogance or their views on how much of a threat we were. Probably both.

“You got a lot of balls asking for a meeting like this,” Dexx said. Then he grinned. “I like that. You ladies can come with me. Shortie has to stay here, though.”

That prompted a series of laughter and hoots from the gnomes. Keg, to his credit, silently endured the jab. The only indication he wanted to crack skulls was the crimson color crossing his face.

Hodl got right up in the dwarf’s face. “Boss man says you stay here. I sincerely hope you give me a reason to toss you through the window.”

Keg stared back with a vacant expression.

Hodl must have realized the dwarf would be harder to goad. He lightly patted Keg’s cheek and said, “Good boy.”

Keg’s hands closed into fists, and I thought for sure this was going to end in a brawl.

“Hodl! That’s enough!” Dexx frowned at the gnome. “You can drop the dwarf out the window or use him as a piñata if he gives you cause. Short of that, leave him alone.”

Hodl watched us leave with all the charm of a snake who just ate something that didn’t agree with them. Calling his glare hostile would have been a huge understatement.

Dexx led us back the way we came and into a cavernous office. On one of the walls, a TV scrolled an endless loop of values for various cryptocurrencies. On another were movie posters, mostly of the action type. Dexx poured himself a glass of dark alcohol and, with an exaggerated sigh, collapsed into a large leather chair.

There was no offering of refreshments or invitations to make ourselves comfortable. So much for any hint of hospitality. The gnome would not have lasted long in Cold Creek.

“Okay, what do you want?” he asked. He held up his glass. “You’ve got as long as it takes me to finish this.”

I cleared my throat. “I’d like to discuss the recent attacks in Manhattan by members of your . . . organization.” I caught myself from saying gang, which felt like the wrong thing to say.

“We’re a gang, and we’re proud of it. No need to dance around the topic. But I don’t know what attacks you’re talking about.” He took a long pull from his glass.

“You do,” I replied. “And I’m not here demanding that you stop. I’m here asking if there is a way for us to negotiate some sort of truce. Even a temporary one.”

Another drink, though much smaller this time. “What kind of terms might you be offering?”

“What kind of terms might you be seeking?”

“Hmm.” Dexx drummed his fingers on the desk before pointing one of them at me. Happily, it was not his middle one. “Do you know in the entire history of House Vervain, not a single steward ever requested a meeting with us Unseelie?”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” I said. “I’m sorry to hear it, and I’m glad to have corrected that oversight.”

The gnome’s eyes narrowed slightly. He took a small sip of his drink. “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves. One simple meeting isn’t going to make up for decades of abuse.”

“The only fae guilty of abusing others are the Unseelie,” Adriana piped in, the barely checked fury in her voice unmistakable. “You are the ones who continue to prey on the Fair Folk in Manhattan when we have done nothing—”

Dexx got to his feet and literally stood on his desk. “Nothing? Ever since the mages set up Vervain and declared Manhattan off limits to us, we’re the ones who have been hunted! The mages want us dead! You want us dead! We’re stuck here, just trying to make our way in this messed-up world!”

The penny dropped for me, followed by an entire roll of quarters. The first spark of an idea lit up in my head, and I thought I might know how to appeal to the gnome.

“You’re stuck here, Dexx?” I asked. “For how long?”

Another pull from his glass, which was looking terrifyingly close to empty.

“Over three hundred years, little miss mage. And as added punishment for my exile, I’ve nearly been killed by mages and Seelie more times than I can count. I’m done with simply surviving. Me and the Techgnome Bros are thriving, and no one is going to stop us.”

“Why do you want to come to Manhattan so badly?” I asked.

“I don’t care about going to Manhattan. I’ve got everything I need right here. Heck, I’ve got the entire world as my playground.”

I didn’t buy the bravado. “But you chose to live right here, a stone’s throw from Manhattan,” I gently pointed out. “I don’t think that’s a coincidence.”

The gnome swirled the contents of his drink and scowled. “Do you know that some of the best fae food is made right across that river? Do you know that I’ve never seen what Central Park looks like at night? There is so much stuff I’m dying to experience, and it’s all literally less than two miles away. But it may as well be at the bottom of the ocean because we aren’t allowed to set foot in Manhattan.”

I glanced at Adriana. The wrinkles above her nose eased, as did her frown.

No wonder Dexx was mad. He’d spent hundreds of years staring across the East River at land he was told he could no longer visit. Land where the Seelie had found safety, which left Dexx at the mercy of the mages. Spending so much of his life so close to the thing he most desired, only to be driven away again and again—I couldn’t begin to imagine how that would warp you from the inside.

Hodl appeared at the door. Dexx waved him in.

“Everything good, boss?”

“I don’t know.” He turned to me. “Is everything good?”

“No, it’s not, but perhaps I can help change that,” I said. “I am prepared to grant the Techgnome Bros safe passage in Manhattan.”

Adriana’s mouth fell open, and Dexx’s nearly did, too. Hodl’s went tighter.

“Steward Morgan,” the elf said. “I am afraid that is not possible.”

Dexx held up a hand to Adriana. “Bup, bup, bup. Let her talk.”

I straightened my back and put a bit more steward tone in my voice. “I’m prepared to grant you and your gang access to Manhattan in exchange for the promise that you will cease your attacks.”

The gnome rubbed at his face. “Safe passage, eh? For how long?”

“For as long as you and the rest of the bros keep the peace.”

Dexx smacked the desktop. “Deal!” He extended his hand. I carefully shook it . . .

. . . I was still in Dexx’s office, but it was daytime. I looked down on him from above, like I was hovering near the ceiling. The gnome sat alone in his office, watching the crypto scroll on the screen.

Hodl came in. “Boss, the boys just got back from their run. They had a small hiccup.” Hodl held up a bag from Stardust Café. “You want your buttons now?”

Dexx shook his head and gestured at a table in the corner. Hodl placed the bag on the table.

“What happened, Hodl?”

“One of Wren’s sprites spotted us. Not sure how she saw through our glamour. We had to clip her.”

Dexx pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just wanted some buttons. I wasn’t looking to break some sprite’s wings.”

“It’s okay, boss. They only broke one of her wings.”

Dexx’s fist came down on the arm of his chair. “That’s not what I meant! Why can’t they just let us be?”

“Why don’t we just have it delivered next time? No one will know it’s for us.”

“That’s not the point. I shouldn’t have to pay someone to deliver a measly bag of buttons just because—”

I snapped back to my proper place and time.

“Good to meet you, Melina Morgan,” Dexx said as he released my hand. “Pleasure doing business with you.”

Chapter Nine

Icaught an earful from Adriana and Keg on the way home. Like, they didn’t stop talking until we were back inside House Vervain. And the more they talked, the less confident I felt about what I’d just done.

“You have made a deal with the Techgnome Bros,” Adriana said, tossing her hands in the air as she paced about the kitchen. “They will secretly break their promise, and you will have no way of knowing it. They will encourage the rest of the Unseelie to petition for safe passage, too. And what do you think Wren is going to say about this?”

Wren! I didn’t even think about her. Yikes.

“I’ll explain it to her,” I said. “She’ll understand.”

“I think you put far too much trust in your ability to persuade others, Melina. Wren will not be pleased. Not at all.”

Keg collapsed in a chair with his arms crossed. “Look, I’m not saying you don’t know what you’re doing, Melina, but I wouldn’t have supported a truce under these conditions.”

Now he’s breaking his silence? Just to criticize me? I liked him better when he was Mr. Silent And Broody.

“Well, what’s done is done,” I replied. “I did what I thought was best. And even if it only buys us a few days of peace, that’s better than nothing.”

Adriana closed her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. “Melina, even if that were true, you have opened a door you can no longer close. The reason the Vervain stewards had a hard and fast rule about keeping Unseelie out of Manhattan was that it made things simple. If an Unseelie was found in Manhattan, they were removed. No questions asked, no need to debate the matter. Granting the TGB access has muddied the waters. It will hamper your ability to protect the Manhattan fae.”

Try as I might, I couldn’t argue her point. My heart said I’d done the right thing, but my heart had led me astray before. My head was now giving my heart some seriously judgmental side eye.

Had I truly made things worse by trying to make them better?

Sourdough Joe, Jr.—as I’d named the second batch of starter—had not just doubled or tripled but had more than quadrupled overnight. I couldn’t confidently say it was my words of encouragement, but I was pretty sure they’d helped.

“Great job!” I said as I examined the jar of starter. Lots of bubbles, and the smell was just right. The starter was hungry and would create a couple more super-strong offspring.

I made coffee and repeated the procedure, this time using a couple of larger jars. Sourdough Joe, Jr. had nearly blown the top off his jar. If things kept going like this, I could make a lovely delivery to WFS later that night or the next day.

Snowpuff was still AWOL, but I was pretty sure I could fix that. I put a raw steak on a cutting board and placed it on the kitchen counter. The dragon appeared almost immediately.

How very thoughtful. Thank you, pet.

You know my name’s Melina.

I do.

Snowpuff went to town on the steak, steadily chewing her way through it while I fed Sourdough Joe and baked the loaves I’d put in the fridge overnight for a cold bulk rise. I was pouring my second cup of coffee when Snowpuff licked the last drop of juice from the cutting board.

Delicious.

Is that your idea of a thank you?

It is not.

I sighed and wished there were more brioche buttons left. Snowpuff was the cutest thing, but her attitude was annoying. On the upside, she hadn’t complained about me telling Adriana about the dragon’s presence. If Snowpuff knew, she didn’t seem upset.

A knock at the front door prompted Snowpuff to vanish. Just as well. I’d had enough of her condescension for the time being.

I half expected to find Glimmer or another sprite at the door. I did not expect to find two elderly dwarves glamoured to look like mortals.

The male sported a gray beard that reached the tops of his black leather boots. His brown eyes had flecks of orange in them. Despite the weather, he wore only a loose linen shirt and a light jacket.

His companion wore her waist-length black hair loose. She wore a dress with a leather belt. Her periwinkle eyes gave me a slow once-over, and the downturned quirk of her mouth indicated she was not pleased with what she saw.

“Hello,” I said. “How may I help you?”

“This is House Vervain, is it not?” the male asked. I nodded. The two dwarves scooted past me and stood in the hallway. “I am Belin Grimlock, and this is Nanda Grimlock. We are here to collect our son.”

Despite my morning coffee, I had a hard time catching up with what was happening. I knew Keg had parents, but he’d never talked about them. In fact, no one had talked about them, which made me wonder if anyone had been expecting them.

Hold up. Here to collect our son?

“Oh, you’re Keg’s parents!” I said and extended a hand. “I’m Melina Morgan. So very happy to meet you!”

Neither dwarf moved to shake my hand. Nanda’s gaze went briefly to the crown above my head. “We are aware of your identity. If you would, please show us to our son.”

“Um, sure. I think he’s down in the Rave Cave.” The dwarves’ eyebrows lifted noticeably. “This way.”

I led them to the basement and opened the door. The blast of noise from the video game Fynch and Keg were playing was almost physically painful. I grimaced at the two dwarves and stepped into the room.

The two fae were playing a roleplaying game, one I wasn’t familiar with. Fynch let out a yell of triumph and did a fist pump. “Boom! Level thirty-two, my long-bearded friend!”

“Yeah, yeah, but I’m going to leapfrog you by tomorrow.”

Belin stepped in front of the TV screen and put his hands on his hips. His voice boomed loud enough to drown out the audio from the game. “Kegster G. Grimlock, this is how you spend your time?”

Keg scrambled to his feet so fast, I thought someone had stabbed him in the butt.

“Father! Mother! I didn’t know you were coming!”

“Hey, Grimlocks!” Fynch said as he paused the game. The noise in the room dropped a dozen decibels. “Long time, no see!”

“Fynch,” Belin replied with a curt nod. He turned to his son. “We did not have time to notify you before we left home. There is an urgent matter we must—” The dwarf’s eyes drifted over his son’s shoulder, landing on the guitars and the painting easel across the room. “I didn’t know Fynch had a passion for the arts.”

“Oh, those aren’t mine—” Fynch began before clapping a hand over his mouth.

Belin and Nanda looked at Keg.

I had to do something, and I said the first thing that popped into my head. “They’re mine,” I said. “I paint and play guitar. Yep. That’s right.”

Well, that wasn’t the worst delivery in the world.

Keg’s mom turned to me. “Is that so? Would you be so kind as to play us something?”

I had not seen that coming. I absolutely should have, and that’s what happens when I opened my mouth before thinking.

“Gosh, I’d love to,” I replied, “but you know, I think I hear Adriana calling my name.”

Nanda’s mouth twisted into a sour expression. “Lying comes so easily to mortals. I should not have expected more from you.”

Correction: that was the worst delivery in the world.

Belin walked to the brewing station and rapped on the copper tank. “Hmph. About what I suspected.” He opened one of the bottles and sipped the brew. “Worse than I expected.”

“Father, allow me to—” Keg began.

“There is no need, nor is there any desire on my part, for you attempt to justify this betrayal. Our reasons for coming to”—here he looked around the room in distaste—“this place were already burdensome enough. I see I underestimated just how far from the path you have strayed, son. Your time amongst the mortals has influenced you for the worse. You are no longer permitted to live here.”

Nanda gathered herself. “I never expected much from you, Kegster, but you have managed to disappoint me, nonetheless. Go pack your things now. We’re leaving.”

“Mother—”

Nanda’s face wrinkled in fury. “You gave a conairestone to a mortal! A mortal! And not just any mortal, but a member of the mage community! King Oberon and Queen Aine summoned us to the court to deliver the news. We had to learn of our son’s betrayal from the king and queen of the fae. Do you have any idea how mortifying that was?”

Oh, fiddlesticks and nonsense, this was bad, bad, bad.

Keg had warned me the fae couldn’t make the pathing stones anymore, and they guarded the ones they had left. Using them demanded the most urgent of circumstances. Wasting one on a mortal was obviously a very big deal.

The dwarf had known this, and he’d still bound the only conairestone he had to me. Why? Because I’d snuck out of House Vervain to secretly find Wren, and I almost got killed by a couple of dearg elves. Keg had given me the stone in case I got into trouble again and needed to portal back to the house.

As sentry of House Vervain, he’d felt obligated to protect me, even though I wasn’t technically the steward yet. As payment for his concern, he’d gotten his parents into hot water with Oberon and Aine.

I’d just processed that bit of guilty realization when the rest of Nanda’s words hit me like an anvil: I never expected much from you, Kegster, but you have managed to disappoint me, nonetheless.

Her comments left me speechless. Well, for several seconds, anyway. By the time I’d regained my ability to talk, Keg’s parents were already halfway up the stairs. Their son followed with his head hung low.

“Melina,” Fynch whispered, “do something!”

I chased after them and caught them in the upstairs hall. “Mr. and Mrs. Grimlock, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. While we weren’t expecting the honor of your company, I implore you to grant us the favor of another audience tonight. We will prepare a feast worthy of your enjoyment.”

Keg looked expectantly at his parents. His father grunted and ran a hand down his beard. His mother’s stony face glared at me in silence.

“Belin,” Nanda said, and it wasn’t an attempt to get his attention. The edge in her voice practically screamed, Under no circumstances are we coming back here! “We have that event to attend tonight, remember?”

Belin looked confused for a moment before he said, “Oh, yes, the event. Surely that can wait, can’t it?” Nanda’s expression said it couldn’t, but Belin surprised me. He nodded at me. “I suppose we could extend our stay and return here tomorrow night.”

“Wonderful!” I said. “Seven o’clock tomorrow night, then?”

“Yes,” Belin said. “Kegster, we have some family matters to discuss. Come with us, please. Melina, we’ll see you tomorrow. Kegster can say his goodbyes then. Fynch.”

I gave a nod of my head as the trio departed.

“I hope you have an inspired idea about how to convince them to let Keg stay,” Fynch said. “They are soooo angry with him.”

“Working on it. And yeah, I wish I had a pathing stone I could give him.”

Chapter Ten

“They said what?” Adriana asked. “Keg has to leave?”

She, Fynch, and I sat in the Rave Cave. Thomas was a no-show, and I was getting more worried about him. I sent him a text before replying to Adriana.

“Somehow, Oberon and Aine found out Keg gave me a conairestone. They summoned Keg’s parents to the court to rake them over the coals about it, and when the parents came here to collect their son, they, um, they sort of learned about Keg’s guitar playing and painting.”

Adriana closed her eyes and rubbed at her temples. “That could not possibly have gone well.”

“Nope,” I replied. “And it’s my fault. I wasn’t expecting them, and they were so intimidating, and when they asked to see Keg, I just took them straight down here.”

“It’s not your fault,” Fynch said.

Adriana held up a hand. “Placing blame is a waste of time. We need to figure out how to convince Keg’s parents to let him stay.”

“I don’t see why he can’t just tell them he’s staying,” I said. “They can’t make him go.”

Fynch snorted. “Oh, but they can. Familial duty is so strong in dwarven culture that they could tell him to walk through a wall of fire, and he’d do it without thinking. But even if he does try to stay, his parents will bring every living relative here and forcibly remove him.” Fynch leaned close and added, “He has a very big family.”

I kicked an empty pizza box across the floor. “Adam was right,” I muttered.

“About what?” Adriana asked.

“Nothing, nothing. Okay, we have to convince Keg’s parents to let him stay. The conairestone thing is water under the bridge. Can’t do anything about that. But they think his time here has corrupted him. We have to show them it hasn’t.”

Fynch dug around in the sofa cushions and retrieved an old slice of pizza. Old enough that the dough was stiff as a board. He sniffed it, shrugged, and ate the slice.

“Here’s the problem,” he said. “They’re not wrong. Living here has totally corrupted him.”

Adriana and I stared at him in surprise.

“Okay,” he said, “hear me out. From their perspective, Keg comes to the mortal plane, gets trapped here, and crashes at House Vervain because he can’t go back to his home world. What happens? He’s no longer being influenced by his family or his people. He starts acting like a mortal. He keeps up the family tradition of brewing, but he’s not doing a great job because his heart’s not in it. Corrupted.”

“But that’s not the whole story,” I responded. “And he’d be miserable if he were back home and stuck brewing, unable to paint or play guitar. Can’t they see that?”

The imp said, “Eh. Obviously not. From their point of view, he’s drifted away from his dwarven roots. And you can’t argue with that.”

I wanted to argue the point so badly, I could taste it. I knew Fynch was right—sort of—but I couldn’t shake the feeling there was more to it. I understood how societal norms could be powerful motivations, even if the end results were undesirable. Every culture has its unique takes.

But in this case, a friend of mine was being forced to leave his home and his second family just because the expectation was for him to follow a particular path—even if doing so would make him miserable.

That didn’t sit well with me. Not one bit.

We tossed around more ideas, each one crazier than the last. Perhaps we could bribe Oberon and Aine? Perhaps we could ask Wren if she could wipe the Belin and Nanda’s memories? Perhaps I could use the power of the nexus to physically prevent Keg from leaving?

We were still hashing it out when Keg himself entered into the room.

“Keg, buddy, what’d they say?” Fynch asked.

Keg opened a bottle of ale, downed it in one go, and opened a second before falling into the sofa.

“They said that I’ll be leaving here tomorrow night after dinner. They said I’m a huge disappointment, and it’s probably best I can’t go home. They said they’re sending me to Norway to live with a friend of my uncle’s. They said I’ve permanently tarnished the family name, and our reputation in the Seelie court has never been lower. Shall I go on?”

The imp flew over and patted Keg’s shoulder. “Hey, don’t you worry. We’re going to figure this out.”

“Pfft,” Keg said. “There’s nothing to figure out. There’s nothing to do. I’ve made a complete mess of things, and now it’s time for me do my best to make things right.”

“Not if it means you have leave House Vervain!” I said. “I just got here, and Thomas is suddenly nowhere to be found, and now you’re talking about leaving, and the Unseelie are still attacking, and don’t you see that I need you more than ever?”

He looked at me with his dark-brown eyes, which had gone sad. “And now I’ve let you down, too.”

“That’s not what I meant. Look, your parents are upset. Fine, I get that. I’ve made my father angry enough to spit nails. But we talked it out. We got over it. This is a solvable problem.”

Keg finished off his second bottle. “Let it go, Melina. It’s too late.”

“But you got in trouble for doing the right thing! And it wasn’t even your fault. It was my fault. And because you gave me the stone, I was able to save Fynch. That has to count for something, doesn’t it?”

The dwarf snagged a third bottle. “Not in this case, I’m afraid. And this isn’t the first time I’ve let my family down. I’m surprised they haven’t come for me before now. Look, it’ll be easier for everyone if you don’t make a fuss. We’ll have one last dinner tomorrow night, and then I’ll be out of everyone’s hair.”

“No,” I said. “I refuse to let this happen. I promise I’m going to fix this, Keg. What good is being a steward if you can’t right a few wrongs in the world?”

“Some wrongs you just can’t right, Melina.”

Chapter Eleven

Iwas having a new appreciation of the retreat. Unless you could portal, the only way to access it was the spiral staircase, and you had to go through the steward’s quarters to do that. I was the only person in the house who could portal, so that automatically gave it privacy. Being on the fourth floor, I heard nothing from the rest of the house. It truly was a haven and a quiet retreat from the world.

Sort of.

I’d brought a bunch of books on dwarven culture up to the room, convinced there was some societal angle we could use. Maybe we could convince his parents, maybe not. Probably not.

If we couldn’t, maybe we could find something in the dwarven traditions to force them to let Keg stay. A cultural loophole or whatever. Adriana had secluded herself in the library to do some more research on Snowpuff. The elf wasn’t convinced the entity was a dragon, but she also wasn’t sure what else she might be.

I spent hours poring over the books whose text sometimes became so oblique and convoluted, I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. Those were almost always written by elves, who seemed to think more is better and there’s no such thing as a short or simple explanation.

What I’d found so far backed up what I’d been told. Duty to family, especially parents, was not just paramount, it was something dwarves didn’t even question. Worse, Keg’s refusal to fully embrace his family’s legacy was tantamount to a rejection of everything his family valued. To choose another path meant abandoning his legacy, and that meant he was abandoning his family.

Throw the issue of the conairestone into the mix, and I had my job cut out for me. Having a ghostly chat with Adam right about then would have been amazing.

I slipped down to the kitchen for a late lunch of leftover Paola’s pizza and checked on the loaves while the pizza heated up in the toaster over.

You’ve had an eventful morning.

I jumped at the voice in my head. Sure enough, Snowpuff had materialized on the counter.

“You have to stop scaring me like that,” I said.

No, I don’t. I do, however, require sustenance, pet.

“Fix it yourself. I’m busy.” I crossed my arms and leaned against the counter to emphasize the fact that I wasn’t technically busy at that exact moment.

You don’t have to speak out loud. I can hear your thoughts, remember?

“I know,” I replied, thrilled to finally turn the tables on the kitten dragon.

Snowpuff chuckled. Someone found their confidence.

“More like someone lost their patience.”

What’s troubling you, pet? The dwarf’s impending departure?

“Among other things.”

Seeing you like this is depressing. Will it cheer you up if I help?

“I mean, sure.”

Snowpuff opened her mouth and pointed at it with her tiny paw.

Meat. Now.

A pause.

Please.

“Fine.” I pushed off the counter and tossed another steak on the cutting board. “Here you go.”

She daintily ate the entire thing and then burped so loudly, I thought for sure someone else in the house would hear. I’m talking rattle-the-dishes loud.

Pardon me.

Snowpuff began cleaning her wings and preening her fur. Her barbed tail moved lazily back and forth.

“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop calling me pet,” I said.

But that’s what you are. Would you rather me call you something else?

“My name is Melina.”

I see. You object to the name I’ve chosen to use.

“Oh, I see what you did there. This is totally different. I asked you for your name. You refused to tell me, so I came up with one I liked. I’ve literally told you my true name, and you refuse to use it.”

But I like using “pet” for you. It fits.

I sighed and placed the cutting board in the sink. “Whatever.”

You might like to know a tiny amount of my soul has been returned to me overnight. I believe this situation will naturally resolve itself over time.

“That’s the first good thing you’ve said to me.”

Is it? I’m quite sure that’s not true.

“Well, it feels like it.”

I have more news. This is not as good. The farther apart we are, the worse I feel physically and the slower the soul transfer happens. I’m afraid we’ll need to stay quite close until our tether is cut.

“Crackerjack,” I said.

Snowball stopped cleaning herself and looked at me with her big blue eyes. You are angry and perhaps feeling sad. I promised you I would help, and I must honor that promise. How may I help?

I checked off the list of challenges I was a facing: Keg’s departure, Thomas’s absence, my head-butting with Adriana, the issue with the TGB, the Unseelie attacking Manhattan fae, Piter Renard and the mage community . . . By the time I’d finished, I was surprised I wasn’t curled up in a ball and binge-watching comfort TV shows.

That is . . . a lot. Is there something in particular you’d like my help with?

“I mean, the biggest worry I have right now is losing Keg. He’s being ripped from here because of me.”

Then you need to be the reason he stays.

“And?”

And you’re welcome.

“That’s it?” I asked with more than a little exasperation in my voice.

Now that you mention it, I’m quite fond of the meat you’ve been providing me. I shall require more. Lots more. Please correct the paltry state of that metal box.

I left Snowpuff in the kitchen. Or more likely, she disappeared after our conversation and hovered invisibly nearby. I’d already gotten used to the idea of the hobs invisibly moving about the house, cleaning and repairing it.

The idea that Snowpuff was always hanging around, even if I couldn’t see her, was different. Unsettling. I was fairly certain she didn’t give me the same privacy as the hobs. Couldn’t, actually, if her theory was correct.

And she was right about my mood being all over the place. I was angry and worried and sad and a bunch of other stuff. I knew I had a ton of stuff that needed my attention, but I couldn’t find the motivation to do any of it at the moment.

What I desperately wanted was a Slumming Saturday with Dee. I could have portaled to her house right then, explained everything that had been going on, and stopped lying to her. I hated keeping secrets from her, and telling her the truth about the last two weeks—heck, my entire life, which had spent hiding from the fae—was super tempting.

But I resisted running away from everyone just when they needed me the most. I couldn’t do that no matter how down in the dumps I was.

So, I opted for the next best thing: a Slumming Saturday in the Rave Cave with Fynch. The imp was crashed on the sofa and watching a reality TV show.

“Hey, Melina.” He looked about as depressed as I felt.

“Hey,” I said. “Let’s do some magic.”

That perked him up for second. “Really?”

“Yeah. How about the one where you cut the string in half and then it’s back to being one piece again?”

Fynch’s expression turned doubtful. “I don’t know. That’s a tough one.”

He still hadn’t successfully performed any of what he called “real” magic tricks, and I think the constant failure was getting to him. I figured it was just a matter of practice, and if I could give him the same amount of encouragement he’d given me when I was learning to fade, well, perhaps he’d make progress like I did.

“Ah, you got this. Take it slow.”

The imp flew to his room and retrieved a pair of scissors and a two-foot section of cord. He switched to his magician persona and acted like he was standing on stage at Carnegie Hall.

“Ladies, gentlemen, and entities of all nature, I am Fynch, the Maestro of Magic, and I shall now perform for your amusement and entertainment the deadly and dangerous Cut the Rope trick. For your safety, please refrain from flash photography. Photos and videos will be available for purchase online after the show.”

He’d seriously increased his opening monologue since his last performance. And I think it helped, because he looked really into it. The fires at the center of his black eyes flared as he talked.

Come on, Fynch, you can do this.

“First, may I present to you an ordinary piece of rope.” He snapped it taut three times. “But don’t take my word for it. May I have a volunteer from the audience?”

I dutifully raised my hand. “Me!”

The imp pretended to look over a large crowd, his eyes sweeping past me a couple of times. “Ah, yes, the lovely woman in the blue shirt. Yes, you. Would you kindly come up to the stage and confirm for everyone that this is, indeed, just an ordinary piece of rope?”

I smiled and stepped next to him, careful to place my feet on the X Fynch had taped to the floor. He took the blocking for his shows quite seriously. The imp handed me the rope, and I made a big show of examining it.

“Looks normal to me,” I confirmed.

He took the rope back. “Thank you, my dear.”

I took the cue and sat down.

Fynch looped the rope once around his hand before bringing up the scissors. “Having established the rope has not been tampered with or in any way altered, I shall now perform this most challenging feat.”

The imp dramatically sliced through the rope, allowing the ends to dangle. The scissors disappeared, and Fynch made a big deal out of presenting the two pieces of rope, holding one in each hand.

“And now, through the use of magic, I shall reunite these two pieces!” He held the ends so the pieces hung from his right hand. The two ends were hidden inside his fist. Fynch waved his left hand over the other and said, “Abracadabra! Two are now one!”

His fist opened. Two pieces of rope fell to the floor, as did my heart.

“Hey,” I said. “That was really good. You got closer than ever before. And I really liked your new intro!”

For a second, I thought Fynch might fireball the rope pieces. Instead, he made them disappear with a flick of his tiny hand. “Hmpf. Still needs work, I guess.”

“You’ll get there,” I said. “How about some popcorn and another episode of that pizza cooking show you love to watch? What’s it called?”

“Sliced.”

“Right. Fire it up while I make some popcorn.”

“Don’t forget the extra butter and salt!”

I made a large bowl of popcorn, and we watched an hour-long episode of the cooking competition show. In this episode, the chefs got to secretly choose a single ingredient for each other.

The chefs had already chosen their pizza ingredients, so they couldn’t change anything after the secret ingredient was revealed. Turned out the soy sauce meant to sabotage a competing chef totally boomeranged, because the intended target had already decided to make a pineapple-and-ham pizza. The judges lost their minds over how good it tasted.

“We tots have to make that,” Fynch said, as he shoved a piece of popcorn in his mouth. “That looks amazing.”

“Sure. I can make some sourdough pizza dough for next week’s Pieday.”

Fynch looped once in the air. “Yessssss!”

I checked the time. “Speaking of which, I want to deliver the sourdough starter to Bethina at the bakery.”

“Want some company?”

“Always.”

I carried the jars of starter in a bag, the containers wrapped in kitchen towels to keep them safe on the walk to the bakery. Fynch glamoured up as a cat and walked close to me on the way to the bakery. Snowpuff had to be close by, though I couldn’t see any sign of her.

The snow had stopped, and the sidewalks were full. Tons of tourists had flocked to the Big Apple to check out the holiday decorations and see the sights. Interestingly, I didn’t count myself among them, which was both a pleasant and surprising realization.

I saw lots of fae, including some gnomes, but I couldn’t tell if any of them were TGB.

Oh, no! I forgot to tell Wren about my deal with Dexx!

“Fynch, I need you to do me a favor. Please get to Wren ASAP and let her know about the truce with the TGB. I’ll drop these off and meet you at the park entrance.”

Fynch meowed once and bolted.

I zigged and zagged and even took to the streets to bypass knots of pedestrians. The bakery door was locked, but I knocked anyway and peered through the window until Bethina appeared.

“Hello, Steward Morgan. How can I help you?”

I held up the bag. “The extra starter I promised. My feeding recipe is in there, too, but you can change that however you like.”

“This is most kind of you.” She took the bag and handed it off to another elf.

The bakery looked amazing, given how little time had passed since it had been vandalized. The only indication the place wasn’t open was the lack of customers and the new machinery being installed in the back.

“You’ve done an incredible job,” I said. “I hope you’ll be open again very soon.”

“As do I,” Bethina replied. “On a related note, how did your talk with Dexx go?”

Ooooo. Yeah, this is going to be awkward.

“I think it went well. Dexx and I have struck a truce.”

“Is that so?” Bethina looked equally surprised and impressed. “And do you mind if I ask how you managed to achieve what your predecessors and Wren have not?”

“Well, I kind of offered them safe passage in Manhattan, provided they didn’t cause any trouble.”

The elf’s look clouded. “I see.”

Those two words contained an ocean of additional reactions, none of which were good. And I didn’t blame her. If my store and livelihood had been trashed by the gnome gang, I’d be less than pleased to hear they’d been given permission to roam Manhattan at their leisure.

“I think they just want to enjoy the island like we do. Dexx promised—”

“Dexx is Unseelie and incapable of trust or truth.”

“Perhaps. I suppose we’ll soon find out.”

“And if you’re wrong? If he and his miscreants continue to attack us? What will you do then?”

“I will deal with him myself.”

My words didn’t instill her with confidence, and her frown confirmed it. Frankly, I wasn’t even sure what I’d do. Using the nexus to harm and possibly kill anyone, including Unseelie, felt wrong.

“You are placing a lot of faith in Dexx, Steward Morgan, and it’s our lives on the chopping block. I hope you know what you’re doing.”

Me, too, Bethina. Me, too.

I found Fynch and a sprite at the park entrance. The imp was still glamoured as a cat and was cradled in the sprite’s arm.

“Hello, Steward Morgan,” the fae said. “Wren is currently occupied with matters at this time. Fynch has informed me of your truce with the Techgnome Bros. I will relay it to Wren and spread the word. I wish you had warned us earlier.”

I made a scrunchie face. “I know, I know, I’m sorry. And I know it was probably a stupid idea.”

Not a single person had been supportive of my idea, and I was beginning to believe them. Whatever happened next was going to be my fault. I briefly considered contacting Dexx and calling the whole thing off.

“Is there anything else you would like me to communicate to Wren?” the sprite asked.

“Just that I did what I thought was best for everyone.”

The fae gently handed Fynch to me and nodded. “Consider it done.”

“Thank you.”

I turned to go. Fynch squirmed, and I gently placed him on the ground. “Come on, cat. Let’s try to get home without me mucking up anything else.”

“I know something you can’t muck up, and I guarantee it will make you feel better,” the imp quietly said.

Chapter Twelve

We walked into House Vervain and found Thomas at his desk. I held up two bags from Stardust Café. Fynch’s idea of bringing home some brioche buttons definitely made me feel better.

“I’ve got forty-eight things here that are sure to brighten your day, Thomas.”

Fynch, who had dropped his feline appearance, licked his fingers and said, “Better make that forty-one.”

Thomas chuckled, and it was lovely to see him back at Vervain. The smile was even better.

“What?” I asked Fynch. “How did you sneak those out? I’ve been carrying the bags the whole time!”

Fynch shrugged. “I’m an imp. It’s literally in the name.”

“Here,” I said, and handed him a bag. “Go to town.”

His eyes lit up with flames. “Happy Town, here I come!” The imp flew off to the kitchen.

“Hey,” I said to Thomas. “It’s good to see you.”

“And you. I’m sorry for my absence. I truly wanted to stay, but . . .”

I put the bag of pastries on the ground and sat down across from the consigliere. “I won’t lie. You’ve been missed. And we’ve been worried about you. But you don’t have to apologize. I know it’s been hard for you lately.”

Thomas nodded, and I realized his eyes were red. “That would be an understatement. I tried to get past Adam’s death and the import of your arrival. I thought if I was tough enough, time would take care of the rest. If I just pretended to be happy, eventually I would be.”

“But it’s not working out like you thought.”

The mage shook his head and frowned. “If anything, knowing he’s not fully dead has made it worse.” He glanced around his office. “Everywhere I go in this house and everything I see is a constant reminder of the hole in my heart, and I feel helpless about finding him. Even if I could, I can’t reincarnate him.”

“Hey, I get that. It’s the nagging itch you can’t scratch or ignore. If you could do either, you’d be fine, but—”

“But instead, it consumes you.”

“If there’s anything we can do, please let us know.”

“Thank you. And I will. I think I just need some time. I just came by to collect a few things.”

Oh.

A flash of anxiety ran down my back. This didn’t feel like Thomas was taking a short break. This felt like the first step towards him taking a permanent break.

I was less than a week into my official stewardship, and the house I was supposed to be keeping together was falling apart.

Thomas placed some papers and a book into a slim bag. “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Adam recently?”

He asked the question with a casual tone, but I caught the way his eyes locked onto mine.

“No, I haven’t. Believe me, you’ll be the first to know.”

He seemed weirdly happy about that. Maybe not weirdly, exactly, but I would have thought he’d be happy to hear Adam had returned, even if in ghost form.

“And how did your meeting with Dexx go?”

“Depends on who you ask. Dexx probably thinks it went aces. Everyone else is convinced I just signed the death warrants on the Manhattan fae.”

Thomas’s expression grew concerned. “How so?”

Here we go again.

“I may have given Dexx the impression that I authorized the TGB to have safe passage in Manhattan if they promised to behave.”

The flicker of realization across his face had become all too familiar, and I was certain I knew what was going through his mind.

To my relief, he said, “That is a gamble, to be sure, though it’s so unexpected, it just might work. I presume Dexx was pleased with your offer?”

“And then some. Hodl, not so much.”

Thomas nodded. “Hodl’s been a particularly irritating thorn in Adam’s side before. He’s got no sympathy for Seelie, and he holds the mages in equal contempt. I’m not surprised to hear that.”

I shrugged. “I probably made a mistake, but I went with my gut. Even if they don’t hold to their promise forever, I figured a little break from the hostilities would be welcome. Especially around the holidays, you know?”

“Time will tell. And since you’ve cast the die, there’s no benefit to fretting over the outcome. Plenty of other stewardly matters to address.”

“Yeah, about that. I’ve been meaning to ask you and Adriana about accessing the nexus. All I’ve learned to do so far is portal. Well, that and fade. I’m feeling more than a little outmatched at the moment if Dexx double crosses me.”

“Mmm. Another negligent oversight on my part.” Thomas twisted the heels of his hands against his eyes. “I’ve fallen down on my duties in more than a few ways.”

“Hey, you’ve got a lot on your plate. No worries.”

“I appreciate your understanding, but you’re quite right: without the ability to access the power of the nexus, you are woefully unprepared when it comes to protecting the entities in Manhattan. The good news is the potential is already there, because you’ve been officially sealed as the steward. The less good news is you’ll need to be trained on how to tap into the pool of power and control it.”

“And you’re supposed to teach me that?” I asked.

“Wren assisted the first steward of House Vervain, Jane Meijer, but since then, stewards have needed little guidance. Being mages, they already had a certain degree of talent for magic. You are obviously an exception to that tradition, and that means you’ll require additional tutoring.”

“How come the portaling came so easily?”

Thomas leaned back and entered full professor mode. “The only reason Vervain stewards are able to access the Manhattan nexus in the first place is because Wren allowed it. She controls both the lock and who is given the key, if you take my meaning.”

“I do.”

“Along with that, she also controls the manner in which that access manifests itself. Portaling is a built-in ability Wren grants each Vervain steward, but it’s the only one. Everything else you can do with the nexus must be learned. How fast you learn is a combination of your base-level skill with magic, your innate aptitude, and your intent.”

“And now you’ve lost me. That last one: intent. How does that affect magic?”

“It may help if you think of the nexus power as a massive block of clay. You can take a small bit or a large amount, and then you can shape it however you like. Your desire for success and your intention with the magic affects the outcome. In this analogy, the nexus will slowly replace the clay you removed, though you could potentially take the entire block at once if you chose to.”

“I’m guessing that would be bad.”

“In several ways. Presuming you survived, which isn’t likely, the nexus itself would likely be permanently depleted. Once that happened, it would not only become inert, there’s a good chance Manhattan may become a dead zone.”

My thoughts immediately went to all the fae who called Manhattan home. Wren, Glimmer, the sprites, Bethina, Isla, and of course, the Vervain fae.

“Right. No draining the nexus dry. So, when do my lessons formally start?”

Thomas lifted his index finger in the air. “That’s the challenge. You are not a mage. The biggest reason we’ve been holding back on your instruction is the need for control. Even for experienced mages, tapping into a nexus of that strength is incredibly dangerous.”

“I’m ready to go whenever you are. It would be nice to have some options if Dexx backtracks on his words. I’m not talking fireballs or poison sprays or disintegrations. But some force shields or healing spells or whatever would be nice.”

“Yes, I suppose they would if your negotiating skills failed you.” He grinned for a moment to let me know the jab was in jest and not malicious. Then his expression turned dour again. “But please don’t ask me to do that just yet. I simply can’t be here right now, but it’s the safest place for you. Stay close to the house until I return. Until then, rely on the other three to keep you and Vervain safe.”

He gathered his bag and walked to his office door.

“You don’t know about Keg, do you?” I asked.

Thomas’s eyes narrowed. “What about Keg?”

“His parents stopped by this morning. They’re forcing him to leave House Vervain. They agreed to come here for dinner tomorrow night, but after that, they’re taking Keg with them.” I gave him a short rundown of how everything unfolded, including the fact that Keg didn’t seem interested in fighting his parents. “Thomas, I know you’re dealing with a lot, and the nexus thing can wait. But I could really use your help with Keg.”

I reached out and touched his sleeve . . .

. . . Thomas and I were in a swanky hotel room. Given the view out the window, we were dozens of floors in the air. Stars and skyscrapers filled the night sky.

Like the vision I had with Dexx, I was an unseen bystander, watching the scene unfold. Thomas sat on the edge of the massive bed, mindlessly channel surfing. He held a glass in his hand and sipped from it as tears silently rolled down his cheeks.

The scene could have been from any time—or completely fictional—but my first reaction? I was watching a replay of last night. My heart broke all over again for the two men.

I pulled Thomas into a hug before I knew what I was doing. “I’m so sorry.”

He squeezed me back in silence for several seconds before releasing me. “I know. And I appreciate it, truly. Please remember this isn’t personal.”

I nodded. “And you remember I’m always here for you if you need anything.”

“Am I interrupting anything?” Adriana said from the hall.

I wiped my eyes. “No, no, please come in.”

“Good to see you, Thomas,” the elf said.

“You, too.”

“Shall I plan on you being at dinner?”

Thomas replied, “I’m afraid not. At least, not for a few days.”

The elf’s smile faded but didn’t fully disappear. “Of course. We’ll welcome you back whenever you’re ready.”

All of our phones dinged at the same time: a text from Glimmer.

Chapter Thirteen

Igripped my phone in frustration. Glimmer had reported another incident of vandalism in Manhattan, this time at the Stardust Café. There was no indication the TGB were responsible, but even if they weren’t, the fae would certainly blame the attack on my truce.

Melina gave the Unseelie an inch, and they took the entire island.

“We have to go,” I said.

Adriana and Thomas exchanged a wary glance.

“Perhaps one of us could go in your stead,” Adriana said. “I am not sure it is best for you to be walking around right after an attack.”

“I don’t care how dangerous it is. I know I still can’t cast anything other than a portal, but I won’t hide safely inside House Vervain while the Seelie are continuing to be attacked.”

Thomas clasped his hands together. “I think what Adriana is trying to say is that your presence might provoke an unpleasant response from the fae. You understand, don’t you?”

My emotions were a tangled mess, but the predominant one was guilt. Guilt, it turned out, could be a very good motivator.

“I understand that another attack may have happened because of something I did. I understand the Seelie may not be happy with me right now. And I understand that sitting here isn’t going to help the Seelie or stop another attack. I’m going to the café. I would like Adriana to join me, but I’ll understand if you’d prefer not to.”

I wasn’t going to ask Thomas. Zero chance I’d drag him into a mess he didn’t create while he was still grappling with Adam’s death-not-death.

“I will go,” Adriana said. “However, I strongly recommend you issue a formal declaration of aggression against the TGB.”

“Are you certain you want to do that?” Thomas asked. He crossed his arms and leaned against the corner of his desk. “I can have it drawn up within the hour, but issuing it will have repercussions that may be impossible to unwind.”

“Would someone please explain to the non-mage, newly appointed steward what you’re talking about?” I asked.

Thomas replied, “It’s a unique mechanism the Vervain stewards have adopted. The rest of the mage houses fall under the Council’s view that there should be no fae in the physical plane. Vervain has traditionally decried Unseelie aggression but stopped short of saying they should be exiled from this plane. That said, certain circumstances involving the Unseelie have necessitated Vervain issuing statements of complaint or outright condemnation against certain fae. And in some cases, that included Seelie.”

I took a moment to process that. Had I heard Thomas correctly? Had House Vervain condemned a Seelie in the past? I’d been under the impression all Seelie were cool in the Vervain stewards’ eyes. Learning that wasn’t true reset some of my understandings.

“Against Seelie? Wow. Okay, so what kind of weight do these statements carry, and what’s the downside you’re worried about?”

The consigliere waved a hand in the air. “These statements do not rise to the level of declaring acts of war, but they are close. And a declaration of aggression would force House Vervain to take action against all TGB members, regardless of where they might be encountered. It would also compel all Seelie fae to do the same.”

That sure sounded like an act of war to me. And it seemed even more likely to bring a lot of unwanted violence to the Manhattan fae. Worst of all would be my involvement. Signing a declaration that asked all Seelie to attack TGB members on sight wasn’t something I could live with.

Unintended consequences were one thing, especially when I was actively trying to prevent a war. Intentionally issuing a declaration was a whole different level of awful. But maybe I was missing something. I kept having to remind myself I was still getting my head around the mage and the fae worlds.

“How is this not a declaration of war?” I asked.

“That would imply House Vervain would actively hunt down the TGB, wherever they are. A declaration of aggression indicates repercussions will occur only if the TGB cross paths with House Vervain or the Manhattan Seelie.”

The distinction still felt razor thin to me. I turned to Adriana. “Why do you want to issue a declaration if it compels Seelie to attack the TGB?”

“It puts them on notice and will give them pause before causing more trouble. The declaration makes it clear to the TGB that we are that much closer to actively wiping them out. Once war is declared, they will find no quarter in Brooklyn or anywhere else they flee to.”

I got her point, though I wasn’t sure Dexx would receive the declaration the way Adriana believed he would.

My gut still said Dexx was trustworthy, and I desperately clung to the hope some other Unseelie was responsible for the Stardust attack. Plus, the vision I had of Dexx implied he wasn’t fitting the typical profile of an Unseelie who simply wanted chaos for chaos’s sake.

If anything, the vision had indicated Dexx wasn’t all that happy about how things had unfolded between the Manhattan fae and the TGB or between House Vervain and the TGB.

Adriana saw Dexx as just another Unseelie, so her reaction was logical. But I couldn’t shake the feeling I’d seen a different Dexx, one who would prefer peace over war.

And if I issued a declaration of any kind against the gnomes a day after entering into a truce—even if the TGB had broken it—I didn’t see any chance the gnome would ever trust me again.

Which left me with a choice: continue to listen to my heart, which said a peaceful path was still on the table, or take the advice of Adriana, a fae who had been around the world a lot longer than I.

“Let me think about it,” I said. “We don’t even know for sure it was the TGB.”

Adriana’s mouth went tight, but I noted Thomas’s slight nod of approval.

“If I may,” the elf said. “Regardless of who was behind the attack, some form of response from House Vervain is required. Doing nothing is not an option.”

“Oh, I never said I wouldn’t respond,” I replied.

“I am not referring to your goodwill mission to Stardust Café.”

“Neither am I. Thomas, set up a meeting with Dexx, and tell him I’m not meeting in his office. I want some place neutral, like a private room in a restaurant. But it can be in Brooklyn. You pick the place.”

“Of course.”

Adriana didn’t look happy, but she didn’t look totally disappointed.

Out of nowhere, I felt something in my lap. Snowpuff appeared suddenly and curled up into a tiny ball. Given Adriana and Thomas’s lack of reaction, I guessed the kitten-dragon wasn’t letting them see her.

You’ve got a lot on your plate, pet.

Nice of you to notice.

Snowpuff’s appearance sent my thoughts down a different path.

“Adriana, I know the grove is an intersection between our world and the fae world, and I know the stream’s waters have healing powers, but can you tell me anything else about it?”

The sudden change in topic wasn’t lost on her. “There is not much more I can share. Why do you ask? Do you require aid?”

“No, nothing like that. But that kitten-dragon I mentioned before? I think the grove has something to do with why she’s here.”

Bad idea, pet. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Is that why you won’t show yourself to anyone else but me?

I’m telling you, revealing me to them is a bad idea. But you do what you like, you stubborn little mortal.

Adriana said, “The grove was constructed by the first Vervain mage, with help from Fynch. The stream has strong healing powers, and the grove was imbued with a heavy amount of warding for safety. It is why I felt comfortable leaving Glimmer and you in there unattended.”

“You said earlier the grove was a one-way door, right? You warned me not to wander too far into the woods because I’d cross over to the fae world. And if I did that, I couldn’t get back to the grove because of the wards around it.”

“That is what I have been told. I cannot speak from personal experience, as I was not present during the grove’s construction. But yes, that is how it is supposed to work. No entity from the fae world can access the grove.”

“Well, that no longer appears to be the case. Snowpuff said she came across me while I was recovering in the grove, and she was still in the fae world. She sensed I was hurt, and she decided to heal me. Whatever happened created a connection between us, and ever since, she’s been tethered to me. She didn’t sneak past the outer wards of House Vervain. She didn’t have to. Snowpuff came in through the grove.”

The news landed on the pair like a lead balloon. A lead balloon on fire. And with spikes.

“If that’s true,” Thomas said, “that presents a major risk. I’ll need to research more about the grove’s construction to determine how to deal with it. But you’re not entirely correct about the entity sneaking past the house wards. The doors to the grove are heavily warded, though they are not the same as those on the outside of House Vervain. We may need to revisit that.”

Adriana’s face had taken on an expression of concern. “I would not think any fae entity could breach the grove, but there are a handful who could come close.”

“Which ones are those?” Thomas asked.

“None we would be happy to call guests,” the elf replied.

See what I mean?

No, I don’t. Not at all. And I’d appreciate it if—

From behind me, I heard Fynch ask, “What’s everyone doing?”

I jumped, startled by the unexpected noise. Snowpuff cried out in surprise and tumbled out of my lap to the ground before righting herself and taking to the air.

Fynch produced a fireball in his hand, cocked his arm, and screamed, “What in the halls of Hades is that thing doing in here?”

Snowpuff darted about in the air like a moth before vanishing.

“Close the door, Adriana!” Thomas said, as he prepared to cast a spell. The elf did, though I couldn’t tell if Snowpuff was still in the room. “Anyone see it?”

All four of us stood still and eyed the room.

I tried to communicate with Snowpuff. Hey, where did you go?

She didn’t respond.

Adriana asked, “Melina, do you see it?”

“No, but she can turn invisible in a way that I can’t see her.” I shrugged. “She might be here, or she could be anywhere else in the house. But she’s nearby.”

“Where is Keg?” Adriana asked. “We have to warn him!”

“Warn him about what?” I asked.

“That is a whiptail wyrm, Melina, not a dragon!”

The distinction was lost on me, but not the reactions of the others. Maybe Snowpuff had a point about keeping her presence quiet.

Or maybe she didn’t want you to know what she truly is.

“What’s a whiptail wyrm?”

Fynch turned in a slow circle, his fireball still ready to go. “Only the deadliest, most bloodthirsty killing machine ever known to the fae.”

“Snowpuff? Pffft. Hardly. She’s literally a kitten-dragon, emphasis on kitten.”

Thomas completed the spell he’d been working on. “There. I’ve placed a ward on us to minimize physical damage. Hopefully that will give us an edge against the beast.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. The trio were acting like Snowpuff was some monstrous beast. The most heinous act she’d committed so far was being rude.

“You all need to slow your roll. Snowpuff is hardly a beast. She’s kind of got an attitude, but that’s about as vicious as she’s been.”

Adriana was deadly serious and not buying a single word I said. “That is a whiptail wyrm, no question about it. I do not know how we have all been spared for so long, but make no mistake: that creature will kill us all if we don’t kill it first.”

They can try if they like, Snowpuff mentally said to me, but they will not be happy with the outcome.

Are you really a whiptail wyrm?

What if I am?

Is it true what they said about you?

Clearly not. You’re still alive, aren’t you? If I were the mindless killing machine they claim I am, shouldn’t all of you be dead?

Not for the first time in my life, I struggled with two apparently contradictory facts. Adriana, Thomas, and Fynch all believed Snowpuff was death incarnate. Snowpuff had yet to harm anything in House Vervain as far as I knew. Even the hobs hadn’t complained about the wyrm.

Who was I supposed to believe?

Where are you, Snowpuff?

In the kitchen. I like it here.

I want to trust you. I want to believe everyone else is wrong about you. But I care for these people, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to them.

I can’t tell you nothing bad will happen to them. But I can tell you I have no desire to harm anyone in this house, especially you.

The last part I definitely believed. Snowpuff wanted her soul back, and she couldn’t leave without it. Slaughtering my friends while she waited to retrieve her life force felt counterproductive. So, maybe she meant that. Or maybe she meant that until she was whole again.

Okay, stay there and out of sight while I try to talk these three off the ledge.

“I just talked with Snowpuff,” I said. “She doesn’t mean anyone harm. She’s trapped here until she gets her soul back.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Thomas asked.

“I’m not totally sure, but she said something about part of her soul being transferred to me after she healed me in the grove. As long as I have some of her soul, she can’t get too far from me or she starts dying. That’s why I was asking about the grove.”

“I will admit there are some conflicting pieces of information,” Adriana said. “To my knowledge, whiptail wyrms are not telepathic, and they are much, much larger than Snowpuff. They also have far less fur. Still, has the creature denied it is a wyrm?”

“No. What’s the difference between wyrms and dragons, anyway?”

Fynch lowered his fireball and flew closer to me. “It’s like the difference between a person and a clam. You can have a conversation with a person, you know? You can reason with a person. ‘Oh, hello, how are you? Would you please not pick your nose in front of me?’ ‘Oh, my, of course, yes, sorry to offend.’ But a clam? There’s no talking with it, there’s no reasoning with it. It just acts on instincts. By the way, dragons are the people in this example, and clams are—”

“Yes, I got it.”

“If you do,” Adriana said, “then you realize a whiptail wyrm’s instinct is to kill everything it encounters,” Adriana added. “Over and over, without ever stopping.”

“All evidence to the contrary,” I replied.

“If that is a whiptail, and I am inclined to think it is, then you have brought a monster into this house, Melina Morgan. And if you insist on protecting it or hiding it, then whatever happens next is on your head.”

Chapter Fourteen

Thomas politely but firmly requested that he be allowed to skip the visit to the café. I didn’t argue with him, and I reminded him we were always available if he needed anything. He thanked me, and his smile looked the most genuine it had been in days.

Adriana? If the elf had been prickly about my handling of the TGB, she was all icicles and silence as we walked to Stardust Café. I caught her turning her head several times. She was undoubtedly searching for Snowpuff or suspecting she’d caught a glimpse of the entity.

As for me, I was still conflicted. I believed Snowpuff was a wyrm—she hadn’t denied it—but she wasn’t tracking with the behavior Adriana and Fynch had described. Even if she was a wyrm, she wasn’t acting like a wyrm.

On the other hand, I’d asked the Manhattan fae to trust me, and here I was walking to a fae business that had been vandalized not less than twenty-fours after I’d struck a truce with the TGB. Now I was asking the Vervain crew to trust me about Snowpuff.

Maybe they were right.

I could always move out of House Vervain until the soul transfer thingie was finished and Snowpuff had gone home. If I went somewhere remote, even if Snowpuff went full whiptail, I’d be the only victim.

Until the wyrm goes off to find more food. You really can’t guarantee anyone’s safety.

I tried to break the ice with Adriana. Walking into the café was already going to be hard enough. I didn’t need her giving me the cold shoulder, too.

“I know what you’re thinking, and—”

“I assure you that you do not.”

“Um. Okay. Fair enough. Can I just explain something, though? I don’t think Dexx broke the truce. My gut is telling me he didn’t, just like it’s telling me Snowpuff isn’t the mindless killing machine you all seem to believe she is. But if you and the rest of the Vervain members would prefer I step down as steward, I will. I’ll understand.”

The elf sighed and crossed her arms across her blue wool coat. Her blonde hair was down and being gently blown by the wind. “It is not as simple as you being all wrong or all right. I still believe you can be a great steward. I also believe you erred with the TGB. Those two statements can both be true.”

She had a point, and I appreciated the fact that she still offered an olive branch of support.

“Kind of like how you all can be convinced Snowpuff will slaughter us in our sleep, but I can be convinced she’s harmless.”

The elf frowned. “That is not, as the saying goes, an apples-to-apples comparison. I hold two apparently conflicting beliefs in my head. You are describing two conflicting views held by different parties.”

“Potato, tomato,” I replied. “I’m just noting that you can be correct that whiptail wyrms are known for being bloodthirsty killers, while I can be correct that Snowpuff is a wyrm who is peaceful. As of right now, you have to admit those two statements are simultaneously true.”

Another sigh. “I will admit to the truth of that. For now.”

“Wonderful. Some common ground. Now, will you also please reserve your judgment about the TGB until we confirm they’re responsible for the attack?”

“I will do so,” she replied begrudgingly.

The café was in better shape than the bakery had been. The front glass windows had been smashed, and the furniture had been tossed around, but whoever had broken in hadn’t made it to the back of the store.

Isla, the owner, was cleaning up the front room. I heard noises from the back, most likely another sprite.

“Isla, hi,” I said. “I came as soon as I heard. How may I help?”

The sprite stared at me, one hand on her hip. “How can you help? Let me see . . . how can you help? I’m honestly drawing a blank. How can you help, Steward Morgan?”

Yikes. She’s even angrier than Bethina was.

Can you blame her?

No, I suppose not.

“Well, I can work a broom. I can put the tables and chairs back in place.” Then I added, “I can portal you anywhere you like if you need supplies.” That pretty much rounded out my applicable talents.

“I’ve got the broom, tables, and chairs covered. As for portaling, might I suggest you zip on over to Brooklyn and have a chat with your new friends?”

I ignored the flutter in my stomach. “Do you know who did this?”

She nodded. “The Unseelie gnomes from Brooklyn.”

“How do you know it was them?”

“We chased a few of them away earlier this week. This was obviously retaliation.”

I looked around the café and spotted what I was hoping for: a security camera. “Did you get any of it on video?”

“No. The stream was tampered with. Nothing was captured during the attack.”

“So, you don’t know for sure that it was the gnomes? In fact, it might have been mortals. This could have nothing to do with the Unseelie.”

The sprite shifted to her fae form and got in my face. “If you take off your blinders, Steward Morgan, you’ll be surprised what you can see. I’ve lived here for centuries, and I’ve unfortunately had more encounters with Unseelie than I can count. I know in my heart that the Techgnome Bros did this.”

She shifted back to her glamoured form and resumed her cleanup.

Adriana had thankfully remained quiet the whole time. I was certain an I told you so was coming, but she didn’t seem inclined to deliver it in front of the other fae.

Isla may have been right. Adriana might be proven right. But at that moment, all I could focus on was the fact that we didn’t have definitive proof the TGB were responsible.

Even if that were true and I was eventually vindicated, continuing to swap theories with Isla wouldn’t achieve much.

“I’m so sorry,” I said. “This is my fault. I’ll make this right.”

Some of Isla’s anger bled out, and she said, “The Unseelie have been causing trouble long before you showed up. I know you mean well. Your mistake wasn’t in trying to solve the problem. Your mistake was thinking the Unseelie are capable of change.”

That was a troubling belief all on its own. I firmly believed people could change, and I also believed they could change their beliefs.

Once you embraced the idea that change wasn’t possible, your view of the world became a lot more dire and fatalistic.

“I’d like to do something to help,” I said. “Please. There must be something I can do.”

The sprite nodded at the door to the back of the café. “We’ve got a delivery that came in earlier today. I was going to organize it tomorrow morning, but if you want to help, knock yourself out. Petal will show you where everything goes.”

I nodded and left the two fae. Petal was in the stockroom, slowly unloading two pallets of boxes. She must have just started, because the pallets were loaded.

“Hello, I’m Melina Morgan,” I said. “Isla said I could help with stocking?”

“Yes, Steward Morgan. I remember you. And your help would be appreciated.” Either Petal wasn’t as angry with me as her boss was, or she was really good at hiding it. “That box has chocolate tins, and they go in that closet over there. Just be sure to sort them before you shelve them.”

“You got it.” I picked up a large box of assorted tins and walked to the closet, already feeling better. Mom always said, Work brings purpose, and purpose brings peace. Shelving chocolate containers might seem like a pointless exercise for fending off the Unseelie, but big things often started with small efforts.

The tins were palm-sized and had different sweets in them. I found where the older tins had been put and began stocking the new ones.

Snowpuff appeared on the shelf above me. I made a squeaking sound and dropped the tin I was holding.

“Everything all right?” Petal asked.

“Yes, yes, just a clumsy old mortal, that’s all, sorry!”

I pointed a finger at the wyrm and telepathically told her, You HAVE to stop doing that. And don’t let anyone see you, okay? Adriana will try to skin you or something.

She will find that extremely unproductive. And painful. Nevertheless, you needn’t worry. I control who sees me.

Yeah, I’m not so convinced about that after what happened in Thomas’s office. You let everyone see you.

Oh. That. A rare and trifling oversight.

Oversight, my buttered buns. You saw Fynch and freaked out and lost control.

You startled me by jumping to your feet.

Whatever. My point is, you don’t have total control over your invisibility, Adriana wants your head over the mantel, and I’m sure the sprites would skewer you on sight. So, for both our sakes, please stay hidden.

Snowpuff licked a paw, made a tiny snort, and ignored my comment. What precisely do you intend on accomplishing here? I am growing famished and require more of that delicious meat in your cold metal box.

I’m trying to help the sprites get their shop open again. I want to show them I care about them just like Adam did. They need to know I’m not ignoring the problem.

Ah. Your fledging efforts at negotiations with the fae. How are they going?

You’ve been hanging around me long enough to know that.

Mmm. This is the second attack in two days, is it not?

Yes. But I still can’t believe Dexx would do this.

You don’t think an Unseelie is capable of lying or breaking a promise? Oh dear.

I ignored her and stocked more tins in silence. Snowpuff cleaned her fur. When I’d emptied the box, I walked to the pallet for another.

Snowpuff padded alongside me. I can tell you’re upset, my pet, but the reality is the gang of gnomes really did attack this place.

How do you know?

The matter is quite above your head, I’m afraid. Let us simply say I know for a fact they attacked this café.

Try me. I can be surprisingly smart.

“Annoyingly overconfident” is more apt.

Says the wyrm who won’t even try to explain what she’s talking about.

Very well. There are certain situations where, due to a confluence of externalities beyond what you mortals call science, I am able to retroactively reconstruct the flow of space and time in such a way that fixed points in the quantum curve become briefly perceptible.

Got it. You can see into the past.

Snowpuff snorted. It was tiny and soft and cute and didn’t have nearly the effect I think she’d hoped for.

That is an extremely crude and misguided description for a far more complicated and nuanced process. What I’m describing is almost so esoteric that it defies contemplation. I am exploring ephemeral streams of determined reality which cannot normally be accessed by living entities and experiencing them as if they were unfolding anew before me.

Right. You can see into the past.

Another snort. Fine. I can see into the past.

What did you see?

The three gnomes used their glamour a block away from the store. I saw them throw bricks through the windows and make a mess of the furniture before fleeing. Several mortals had gathered outside.

First off, those could have been any gnomes at all.

I recognized them from your meeting with Dexx.

Oh. Right. You were near me even then. Well, that’s still amazing!

How is that amazing? I just confirmed to you that Dexx broke his promise.

No, not that. That’s not good at all. But if you can see into the past, you could answer some of history’s most important questions! You could solve mysteries! You could—

No.

No? What do you mean, no?

I mean no. Accessing the past can change the future. I don’t do it often. Besides, I have no interest in the matters of mortals’ history, and even if I did, some questions are better off left unanswered.

Why did you do it this time, then?

You seemed distressed over confirming whether the TGB were involved. I do not like seeing you distressed, so I made a small trip into the past. It’s more dangerous the farther back in time I go, but something like this posed an acceptable risk. Now that you know the truth, what will you do?

I paused to consider the wyrm’s words. Despite her haughtiness and snide attitude, she cared for my well-being, which was touching. Given she addressed me as pet, that expression of care was also less complimentary than it might have been.

More confounding than Snowpuff’s true feelings about me was my current predicament with Dexx. I knew I needed to respond, and Fireballs to the face! was not an option.

Chapter Fifteen

Dexx agreed to meet me at a hole-in-the-wall Italian place not far from his office. For all I knew, it was run by some of his crew, but since he’d immediately acquiesced to the meeting, I took that as a good sign.

Before leaving, I fed Sourdough Joe and made an autolyse—a simple mixture of salt, flour, and water—in preparation for baking three loaves of bread the next day for Keg’s dinner. Adriana said she’d work with me to prepare the feast, and she agreed that while the Grimlocks would almost certainly refuse to eat the bread, they wouldn’t take offense at its presence.

I refused to think of it as a farewell feast, preferring instead to view it as a way to entice the Grimlocks into seeing why they mustn’t force Keg to leave.

Adriana and I talked about menu options in the cab on our way to the meeting, and given how much Nod had loved my Beef Wellington, we decided to go with a bread-free tenderloin version. By the time we walked into the restaurant, we’d lined up an amazing menu sure to knock the socks off the dwarves.

The restaurant’s greeter showed Adriana and me to a private room at the back of the restaurant. Inside were Dexx, Hodl, and two other gnomes. They were glamoured up as mortals. I’d only spotted a couple of fae diners, which helped put me more at ease. Dexx had not shown up with his entire crew, and this didn’t feel like a setup or a trap.

“Steward Morgan,” the gnome said with a smile. “What a pleasure to see you again so soon.” He nodded at the two gnomes next to Hodl, and they slipped out of the room. “Please have a seat. I’ve taken the liberty of ordering some refreshments.”

“We won’t be staying long,” Adriana said.

Dexx looked disappointed. Hodl looked surprisingly smug.

I glanced at Adriana and gave her a look that hopefully indicated she should chill. I wasn’t sure she got my message.

“Thank you, Dexx,” I said. “That was most considerate.”

The gnome smiled wider. “Well, it’s the least I could do after the unexpected gesture you made last night.”

A mortal waiter brought out a bottle of red wine and a platter of garlic knots. He poured four glasses, placed plates around the table, and left. The knots smelled delicious, and the wine had a lovely bouquet.

Dexx lifted his glass. “To new beginnings.”

I raised mine as well. Hodl and Adriana stared pointedly at the table, refusing to join the toast. I nudged Adriana’s knee under the table. She reluctantly lifted her glass in the air. A moment later, Hodl caved and did the same.

“To new beginnings,” I said. We clinked glasses, and I sipped the wine. Super delicious.

“These knots are my favorite dish from this place,” Dexx said. “I’ve made an entire meal out of them more than once. Being stuck on the physical plane does have at least one benefit: I’m no longer afraid of bread!”

If he’d authorized the attack, he was putting on a tremendous show. He gave no hint about his betrayal and genuinely seemed glad to be sharing a table with me.

My earlier instincts kicked in again and declared that Dexx had kept the peace. Even so, someone had trashed the café, and everyone but me believed it was the TGB. I didn’t think Snowpuff was lying, yet I desperately wanted to thread this needle of peace.

I tried one of the knots and groaned with surprise. “These are insane!”

“See what I mean?” Dexx replied. He wiped his mouth and put his napkin in his lap. “Now that we’ve broken bread and shared a drink, I’m curious why you wanted to meet. Did you get those invitations to Wren’s Solstice Celebration like I asked?”

I squirmed in my seat. “I’m sorry, no.”

The gnome laughed and waved a hand. “I’m just messing with you.” His expression turned deadly serious. “Or am I?” He held that gaze for a second before busting up again. “No, no, I’m kidding. Really.”

“I can ask Wren,” I said.

Dexx turned serious. “You’d really do that?”

“Well, sure. It can’t hurt to ask.”

Dexx dropped his napkin on the table and leaned back. He grunted and said, “You really are a puzzle, you know that?”

“I’ve been called far worse.”

The gnome chuckled at that. “Okay, so, what’s so important that you decided to leave little old Manhattan?”

“You sit there acting innocent—” Adriana began.

I cut her off. “Adriana, please.” She clamped her mouth shut. I continued. “Dexx, there’s been an incident at Stardust Café.”

The gnome’s face went stone serious. “Oh? Anyone hurt?”

“Thankfully, no, but there was substantial damage to the shop.”

Dexx clucked his tongue and shook his head. “That’s a shame, it really is. But I’m glad everyone’s okay.”

The elf pointed her finger at Dexx. “Everyone is not okay, everyone is living in fear! Vervain is going to issue a declaration—”

“Adriana!” I said, much louder than I intended. I lowered my voice. “Would you please wait outside?”

The elf was fit to be tied, and I sympathized with her. Letting her continue to needle Dexx, however, wasn’t going to make my job any easier. Still, I hated dismissing her like that.

She got to her feet and glared at the gnomes. The look she gave me was only slightly less hostile.

After she’d gone, I continued. “Adriana is understandably upset by the recent attack, as are the Manhattan fae.”

“Sure, sure, I get that,” Dexx replied. “How do you feel about it?”

“Disappointed. There is evidence the attack was made by members of your gang.”

“I’ve heard enough!” Hodl said. He placed his hands on the table and leaned towards me. “Coming in here and making accusations without a shred of evidence not less than twenty-four hours after you deign to grant us access to land we should never have been barred from in the first place!”

Dexx placed a hand on the gnome’s arm. “That’s enough, Hodl, that’s enough. Perhaps you should wait outside as well. Or better yet, meet me back at the office.”

“But, boss, you aren’t going to sit there and take this garbage from a mortal, are you?”

“Please, Hodl.” Dexx might have been asking his second-in-command to pass the pepper. Super calm.

Hodl sighed and left, muttering to himself.

“Sorry about that,” Dexx said. “His heart’s in the right place, but his mouth usually gets the better of him.”

“We’re all in uncharted waters. It’s making us uneasy.”

The gnome took a large drink from his glass. “Uncharted waters. That is an understatement. You know, after your offer last night, I truly thought we might have turned a corner. I thought perhaps you could see us in a way your kind never have. In a way the Seelie are incapable of. But if you believe I ordered my crew to vandalize the café, I guess we haven’t made nearly as much progress as I thought.”

My gut turned at the words, not least because I felt the same way.

“Dexx, I truly hoped we could bring some peace to Manhattan. I thought I could trust you.”

“You still can. I’m telling you, we didn’t trash the café. You said you have evidence. Prove me wrong.”

Again, I got the impression he wasn’t bluffing. Unfortunately, my evidence would hardly be convincing.

So, here’s the thing. A whiptail wyrm tried to heal me, which, I know, already sounds nuts, but she did it in this interdimensional space back at House Vervain, and wouldn’t you know it? Something went wrong, and some of her soul got transferred to me, and, well, we’re kind of stuck together until she can get all of her soul back. But in the meantime, she’s hanging close to me because she’ll die otherwise, and she was at the café, and, oh, did I mention she can see into the past? Well, she can, and she claims she saw some of the TGB trashing the café. Oh, and the sprites don’t have any security footage, but they tots believe you did it. Good enough?

“I can’t,” I confessed. “But the source is one I believe and who doesn’t have a stake in this one way or another.”

“But you’re going to believe them anyway, even though you believed me last night.”

I shrugged. “I wanted to believe you, and I still do. But if the attacks continue—”

“We’re going to be blamed regardless.” Dexx polished off his wine. “I get it. Unseelie will always be Unseelie, right? Never to be trusted, always to be feared.”

“It’s not like that, Dexx.”

“Okay, let’s talk about what this is really about: you need to flex your steward muscles to show Wren and the rest of the fae that you’re one tough mage. They’re running around squawking like a bunch of scared chickens and demanding you do something. So, rather than commit to the hard work to find out who really broke into the café, you’re taking the easy way out and blaming the Unseelie. That about cover it?”

“I don’t want any more bloodshed on either side,” I said. “I had hoped what we did last night could be the start of a new chapter between the two fae groups.”

“So did I, Steward Morgan, so did I.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me the truth, Dexx. Did you order the attack?”

The gnome replied, “I didn’t order the attack, and I didn’t know anything about the attack until you mentioned it. That is one hundred percent the truth.”

Part of me wished he’d said he was involved. I’d have to head back to Manhattan and admit I was totally wrong, but then my path forward would be much clearer. If Dexx had broken the truce, my distaste for a declaration would have diminished.

Since he was still denying the attack, I’d have to report back to the fae that either I thought he was lying, in which case I was back to a declaration—or worse—or I thought he was telling the truth, in which case the Manhattan fae would probably lose all patience and take matters into their own hands.

“I hope that’s true,” I said.

“Doesn’t sound like it matter much,” the gnome replied. He pushed the bowl of garlic knots away. “I’ve suddenly lost my appetite. I’m sure you understand. I’ll see myself out, but would you be kind enough to pick up the bill? And perhaps it would be best if you and yours didn’t show your faces around Brooklyn for a very long time.”

I found Adriana waiting for me outside.

“Ready to head home?” she asked.

“I am.” She lifted her hand to hail a cab. “Don’t bother. We’re taking a shortcut.”

We walked into an empty alley, where I opened a portal to House Vervain.

“Dare I ask how it went?” Adriana asked. I followed her to the kitchen. She started making tea. I checked on Sourdough Joe and then began brewing a pot of coffee.

“About how you predicted. He claims he didn’t know anything about the attack. You can say it now.”

“Say what?”

“I told you so.”

“I would never gloat like that,” the elf said as she sat down at the kitchen table. “And if it makes you feel any better, I am sorry.”

“Sorry? For what? For being right?”

She nodded. “In a way. Deep down, I hoped the truce would work. A bit of peace before the Winter Solstice Celebration would have been welcomed. Adam would never have considered a truce, and I truly hoped your gamble would work.”

“But you didn’t really think it would.”

Adriana touched her teacup with a finger. Steam rose from the water, and she began steeping a teabag. “No. The odds of Dexx sticking to his promise were zero. Or near enough.”

Once again, she surprised me with her ability to judge my actions separately from me. In her eyes, I had made a massive blunder with the gnomes and put the Manhattan fae at risk. But she didn’t let her views of my decision affect her views of me.

“Well, I appreciate that. Doesn’t change how things played out. And we still have to decide what to do.”

Adriana scrambled to her feet and backed away from the table. I followed her eyes to the kitchen door. Snowpuff sat in the entrance.

“It’s okay, Adriana,” I said, though even I wasn’t confident it was.

Is this the kind of entrance you were talking about, pet?

Yes! Why do you insist on doing this?

The elf seems unsettled.

She still thinks you’re a monster.

What do you think?

I think you haven’t given me any reason to think that. But I’m fairly certain you’re not here to talk about that.

Quite right, pet. Snowpuff rubbed her fur-covered belly. As I said earlier, I’m rather famished.

Sorry, I forgot about that.

You do seem to have a lot on your plate.

And so will you in a sec.

Yummy!

“Snowpuff is hungry,” I said to Adriana. “I’m going to feed her a steak. She usually eats it on the counter.”

The elf nodded without taking her eyes off the wyrm.

Snowpuff slowly flew to the island counter and patiently waited until I placed a raw steak in front of her. She began eating it. Adriana stood frozen.

The elf is staring at me while I’m eating. It’s creepy.

“Adriana, why don’t you and I go to the library?” I collected her teacup and guided her out of the kitchen by her elbow. She allowed me to help her into a chair in the library. I closed the door.

“Melina, that creature cannot remain in this house.” She sipped her tea and kept her gaze on the door. “It is an abomination.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. That’s some pretty harsh language for an entity who hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That you know of.”

“She tried to heal me when she found me,” I replied. “Does that sound like the act of a monster?”

“I admit its discovery of you raises even more questions, though it is purely its word against no one’s. You were unconscious. How do you know what really happened? How do we even know it is telling the truth about its soul or about being tethered to you?”

I shrugged. “You’re right. I can’t say for sure. But my gut says she’s telling the truth. If she was acting like a whiptail wyrm, shouldn’t we all be dead? And if she’s lying, what’s her goal? She says she wants to go home, and she doesn’t like being tethered to me. Why lie about all that?”

“I would politely point out that your gut said the same thing about Dexx. And I would also point out that people lie all the time for lots of reasons, even though they may not be immediately obvious. Snowpuff is an anomaly for whiptail wyrms, and by definition, anomalies defy logic. That does not mean it is not also dangerous.”

“Yeah, yeah. These two statements can both be true.”

Adriana stood. “Since the creature appears to give you some deference, I would like you to ask it to remain hidden for the time being. It will only continue scaring everyone with its appearance.”

“Agreed. And I would like to ask you not to call her it or creature or monster. She’s an intelligent entity who has feelings.”

The elf accepted my comments with a nod. “Fair enough.”

Adriana opened the door and peered into the hallway. “I believe I will retire for the evening. Good night, Melina.”

“Good night, Adriana.”

That was very nice of you.

Snowpuff? Where are you?

At the doorway. I heard you and the elf talking. I am respecting her wishes.

Well, she’s gone. Come on in. I closed the door and locked it. Any hobs in the room should have been long gone. You can show yourself now.

The wyrm appeared in an empty chair and ruffled her wings. You said some nice things about me, pet. I won’t forget that. As a gesture of gratitude, I’d like to share something with you. I believe it may make you feel better.

I could definitely do with some cheering up. Hit me.

You were right about Dexx. He knew nothing of the café attack.

Don’t tell me. You can detect lies.

How did you know?

I guessed, but I have no idea how you can do it.

I observed the physiological state of the gnome during your brief meeting. Whiptail wyrms are extremely adept at sensing various aspects of our prey. Heart rate, breathing rate, body temperature, and several other aspects mortals are not capable of perceiving.

Did you say prey?

Did I? I meant others. We are keenly astute at sensing many attributes of our environment but especially living beings. I know, for example, that your perspiration level increased just now when I said the word prey.

I put that troubling word choice aside for the moment and hoped it was simply a slip of the wyrm’s tongue. You know for a fact Dexx was telling the truth, then?

Gnomes are generally not very good liars to begin with, and he exhibited no indications of lying to you, especially when you put the matter directly in his face. I am quite certain he told you the truth. Do you feel better now?

Not nearly as much as you might think.

Chapter Sixteen

After the disastrous meeting with Dexx, I sought solace in the Vervain kitchen. I created a batch of bread dough and followed an abbreviated recipe given the limited time I had before Keg’s dinner. The dough would rise overnight, be ready to bake in the morning, and be ready to eat by tomorrow night.

Later, I tossed and turned in bed and generally failed in my attempt to sleep. The issue with Dexx, not to mention the concerns I had about Thomas, Keg, and Snowpuff, kept rattling through my head. And while Adam didn’t seem to be in distress, I wanted to do something to help him. The problem was, even he didn’t know what we could do.

The next morning, I woke up exhausted and still no closer to having a decision on how to handle the gnomes. I did, however, wake with a question for a certain wyrm.

Snowpuff?

Yes?

Is it possible I’ve picked up your ability to see into the past?

I seriously doubt that.

Because I had a vision about Dexx I can’t explain, and I swear it happened in the past.

No response.

Snowpuff?

Fine. It’s possible. With the soul transfer and the odd magical construction of the grove, it’s possible you may have temporarily gained some of my powers.

Teach me how to use it.

No. It’s dangerous, and you could easily mess up our timeline.

I’ll give you a steak.

You’ll give me a steak regardless, but I still won’t teach you how to manipulate your time flow. If you mess things up, you and I could be permanently separated.

You mean you and however much of your soul is still left in me.

Right. That’s what I said.

I shuffled into the kitchen and found Fynch and Adriana already working on the dinner for Keg.

“Morning,” I said. “Ooo, do I smell coffee?”

“Made you a fresh pot,” Fynch said. “And Adriana laid out everything you need for Sourdough Joe.”

Sure enough, the measuring cup, spoon, spatula, and flours were on the island counter. A peace offering? Or maybe a gesture of consolation? Either way, I was grateful.

“Aw, thanks so much, that’s awesome!” I went through the ritual of feeding the sourdough starter. Next up was the first of a series of stretches and folds for the mound of dough, which had risen nicely overnight.

Adriana presented me with two slices of buttered sourdough toast and steaming mug of black coffee. “Sit, eat, and be at ease.”

“You know me too well. Thank you!” The toast smelled heavenly. I sat down and sipped the caffeinated go-go juice. “How are things going?”

Adriana was whisking something in a bowl and Fynch was dicing fruit.

“Great!” the imp replied. “You two put together a menu Oberon and Aine would swoon over! Keg’s parents will be putty in our hands.”

“I have added some fae-specific sweets to the course,” Adriana added. “I hope you do not mind.”

“I’m thrilled, thank you. Has anyone seen Keg yet?”

Fynch frowned. “He’s upstairs packing and moping, big time. I don’t think he’s up for helping with the dinner.”

“He shouldn’t be expected to,” I replied. “But maybe you can cheer him up later? I heard there’s some new racing game that’s supposed to be amazing.”

“Turbo Turns. Already downloaded the early-release version.”

“Should have known,” I replied.

“Show up early, sister, or don’t show up at all,” the imp said.

I laughed. “That should be on a t-shirt.”

I ate my toast and finished my coffee just as it was time to give the dough some stretches and folds. The dough’s texture felt just right, and it tightened up after a minute of manipulation. I used my lame to divide the dough into three equal parts, then I used the wooden blade to shape the separate pieces into taut dough balls.

“Why do you do that?” Fynch asked.

“The stretching will help give it the texture I want, and the shaping helps the dough rise properly.”

“I’ll take your word for it. All I know is you make the most dee-lish sourdough.”

“Thanks, Fynch.”

The three of us worked happily, laughing and joking and swapping stories. Occasionally, Adriana hummed as she worked or sang an old fae song to pass the time. The kitchen was a glorious mess, as the menu had definitely grown, and I guessed we’d need every inch of the dining room table to hold all the food.

For a brief time, the weight of the past few days slipped off my shoulders, and the three of us laughed and joked and worked like there was not a single worry in the world. I realized how much I needed that.

The three loaves had turned out great. I’d carved a single large letter into the dough and used a doily and white flour to create a lovely design on the top of the loaves. The letters were K, B, and N, one for each of the Grimlocks.

Cooking together in the kitchen lifted my spirits in a way I’d never experienced before. Baking with Dee during our Slumming Saturdays was fun, mostly because we knew each other so well.

Baking with Adriana and Fynch in an unfamiliar kitchen was new and exciting. Equally fun but in a different way, and I felt closer to the fae as a result.

Every once in a while, I’d find myself looking around for Snowpuff, fearful she’d pop into view and scare Adriana and Fynch. The other part of me feared the ding of a text from Glimmer announcing another Unseelie attack. But most of the time, I was able to ignore the nagging threats.

All that came to a halt the moment Keg appeared in the kitchen.

“Hey everyone.” The dwarf stood at the door. “I’m finished packing. My parents want me to visit with them until dinner. I asked them if I could stay here until then, but they said no.”

The dwarf was channeling some serious human teenager vibes. Not that I blamed him.

“Are you sure?” Fynch asked. “I figured we could give Turbo Turns a couple of spins around the track.” The imp made vroom vroom noises and pretended to drive a steering wheel. He ended his charade with an imitation of wheels screeching and a horrendous crash.

“I’d like nothing better, buddy, but I can’t. I’ll be back at seven with my folks.”

I wiped my hands on a dishtowel and went to Keg. “We’ll fix this, Keg, I promise.”

“Please don’t. I’ll feel even worse if my parents get mad at you for meddling.”

“But don’t you want to stay?” I asked. “Isn’t this where you want to be?”

“Of course,” Keg replied. “But I can’t ignore my parents’ wishes.”

He may not want us meddling, but I didn’t think that was the word you used to describe helping out family. And if he’d said that deep down, he really wanted to leave House Vervain, I’d let the matter drop.

But he didn’t want to leave, which meant I couldn’t walk away. That’s not what family did.

Chapter Seventeen

I’d pulled the sourdough loaves out of the oven and basked in the compliments from Adriana and Fynch. And if I may say so, they were some of the prettiest loaves I’d ever made.

“Are they crackling?” Fynch asked. He leaned close. “Whoa! I can hear them popping!”

“Yeah,” I said, “that was a surprise for me, too, the first time I heard it. Pretty cool, huh?”

“They smell delicious.” He reached for a knife.

“Wait! They’re all for dinner! Besides, you have to let sourdough cool for a few hours before you cut it.”

The imp put down the knife. “Seriously? But the best bread is when it’s warm and right out of the oven.”

“No argument from me on that, but trust me. After years of baking bread, the wait is worth it. The loaf will taste way better.”

My phone rang. Caller ID said it was Dee Ashford. I walked towards the kitchen door and answered the call. “Hey, Dashford, what’s up?”

“You tell me, Morgan. Haven’t heard from you in a while, and I was getting worried. Your dad said you’re still up in New York City visiting family. I’m starting to feel neglected, you know?”

She was joking on the surface, but the tension of a grain of truth came through her voice. I felt bad because she was right. I’d been so tied up with, well, everything, I’d pretty much ignored everyone back in Cold Creek.

After initially concocting a lie about having to go to NYC because of my Morton Electronics project, I’d told Dad to let everyone know I was staying up north and visiting extended family.

Dad knew I’d quit the Morton project, and I’d told him he could tell my friends back home about that. But I hadn’t texted Dee with an update. No wonder she was worried and a little hurt.

“I’m sorry, Dee. It’s been kind of crazy up here.”

“It must be bananas crazy if you’re ghosting your bestie. So, how’s the family? What have you been doing? You’re not having a Slumming Saturday without me, are you?”

I climbed the stairs to my quarters, afraid I’d have to lie to Dee, and I didn’t want the fae to hear something that would hurt their feelings or prompt questions I didn’t want to answer.

As for answering Dee’s questions, I sidestepped the What have you been doing? question, since that would have required hours of time and divulging secrets I wasn’t totally comfortable sharing just yet.

“Believe it or not, we’ve spent the whole morning in the kitchen cooking up a storm.”

“Sugar cookies and sourdough bread?”

“Ha! Just the sourdough bread.”

“I didn’t know you had family up that way,” she said.

Neither did I.

“Well, they’re about as far removed as they can be and still be blood relatives. In fact, this is my first time visiting them.”

“Right. The travel thing.”

I rarely left the safety of Cold Creek, and I always played it off like I hated traveling. The opposite was true, though. I grew up desperate to travel the world. But after being told the fae had killed Mom and if they found me, they’d kill me, too, my travel bug was promptly squashed.

I spent the last thirty years in self-isolation in Cold Creek, establishing deep roots with the small coastal community and learning to love it.

Yet, here was my best friend in the world calling me because I hadn’t reached out to her in days. What did that say about me?

“You know, the trip up here was surprisingly nice. And a lot faster than I imagined.” Even supersonic jets couldn’t trump an old-fashioned magic portal. Best of all, no airport security or lost luggage. “And it’s been great getting to know my family.”

“I’m glad to hear that, Melina. I was getting worried. So, what are we talking about here? Some cousin six generations removed or whatever?”

“Definitely distant family,” I lied. “A couple of cousins and an aunt and uncle.”

Close enough to the truth.

“Sweet. Listen, I was thinking of taking some time off before or after Christmas. I’ve always wanted to visit the Big Apple.”

“Yeah, well, turns out I’m coming home for Christmas,” I replied.

“Oh. When? I might snag a few days off before you leave. It’d be great to check out Manhattan, just the two of us.”

“Totally, totally. That’d be great. Let me get back to you on that.”

The words landed like a cast iron pan, and we both silently acknowledged the lie without addressing it.

“Sure.”

I couldn’t continue lying to Dee, so I offered up something that was completely true. “Hey, when you get here, we have to check out the Belvedere Castle in Central Park. And there’s a lake right in front of it where you can go ice skating.”

“I had no idea there was a castle and lake in Central Park!”

“Me, neither! This city is amazing. I can’t wait to show you around. There are awesome restaurants and shops everywhere, and the city is just so beautiful with all the holiday decorations, Dee. You’ll love it.”

That seemed to get us past my earlier dodge. The bounce was back in Dee’s voice.

“Sounds awesome! I want to see it all, Morgan!”

We talked for another thirty minutes, which was mostly Dee catching me up on everything I’d missed in Cold Creek. Considering I’d been gone less than two weeks, I was surprised at how much had happened in my absence.

There was an unconfirmed rumor going around that Millie was retiring and selling her restaurant. Skeeter and Joe had tipped their boat one Saturday afternoon while fishing, and while both had denied alcohol was the culprit, they also did not deny that alcohol had been involved. Mrs. Tilley had announced she was now selling her famous apple butter at Millie’s. My other neighbor, Jerry Montrose, had gotten a new truck.

Sure, none of this was earth-shattering news, but the updates were important in the context of the Cold Creek microcosm. More to the point, they were important because they were about people I cared for.

I’d dreamt of traveling without ever believing I would. Then I unexpectedly jumped from my sleepy hometown to the hustle and bustle of Manhattan. I learned a lesson I hadn’t been expecting: you can’t miss your home until you travel, but you won’t realize that until it’s too late.

Now I felt stuck between two worlds, with both pulling at me, and the feeling was unpleasant. As much as I believed I could help the fae—and House Vervain—I still missed the small and simple familiarity of Cold Creek.

“Listen, Morgan, I’m happy for you because you seem happy. You just say the word, and I’m on the next flight up there. Till then, you have fun and enjoy your family.”

“Thanks, Dee. Give my best to the usual suspects.”

We hung up, and I was left with the unresolved matter of not hurting Dee’s feelings while also keeping her away from Manhattan. Or at least House Vervain. I couldn’t very well host her while I had three fae under the roof.

And that might be down to two if I didn’t pull off dinner with the Grimlocks.

“Everything okay, Melina?” Adriana asked as I entered the kitchen. Three pots were on the stove, one of which was obviously a potpourri. The elf slowly stirred the contents of another pot.

“Yes, thanks. My best friend called me. She’s dying to visit me up here.”

“Invite her up,” the elf replied.

“Are you kidding? I can’t do that. She doesn’t know anything about my abilities or the fae or the mages. And I want to keep it that way.”

Adriana stopped her stirring and stared at me. “Why not?”

“Well, I thought . . . I mean, the fae keep themselves hidden, right? I thought you kept your identities secret because you wanted to hide from the mages and mortals. If word got out, wouldn’t that be bad?”

Adriana went back to stirring. “You are not entirely wrong. The mages would very much like to remove all fae from this world. And many mortals would not react well to the knowledge of our existence. For those reasons, we have not broadcasted our presence. But you are incorrect that we seek to remain hidden forever from everyone.” She looked pointedly at me until I caught her meaning.

I did a mental facepalm. “Duh. You’ve been giving my family the sight for centuries.”

“Correct. We want to slowly and selectively introduce ourselves to the larger world.”

“But how do you know Dee wouldn’t go public with the information? How do you know you can trust her?” I asked.

“If you trust her, we trust her. That is how family works, is it not?”

That mindset for cutting through the irrelevant issues and getting to the heart of the matter left me momentarily speechless.

Yes, it truly can be that simple if you choose to make it so.

And, of course, the other implication of her statement touched my heart. Her trust in me was so unquestioning that it extended to everyone I vouched for.

“That’s how it’s supposed to work,” I replied. “You’re sure you’d be okay having her stay here?”

“We could stay glamoured as mortals if that would make you more comfortable. I would not want us to be a source of conflict in your friendship.”

More heart touches.

“That’s incredibly sweet of you. Let me think about it.”

And I’m talking a lot of thinking. Should I tell Dee about the fae? Or just about my abilities? Should I mention the mages now, later, or not at all? Should I invite her to stay at House Vervain or should I get a hotel room for us to share?

I couldn’t realistically see a way for us to set foot in public without eventually bumping into a fae, and how weird would it be to have them refer to me as Steward Morgan in front of Dee?

Oh, and then there were the Unseelie. Regardless of whether Dexx could be trusted, there were plenty of Unseelie who still had me on their list of people they did not like. Knowingly letting Dee come up here and hang around me was putting a target on her back, too.

Suddenly, I was kicking several cans down the road.

Back to the task at hand, AKA a dinner for dwarves.

The three of us were making lots of progress on the meal, and given the thaw in my interactions with Adriana, I tried again to learn more about why some people were calling her Lady Adriana.

“On Friday, I asked you why some people were addressing you as Lady Adriana,” I said. “You kind of dodged my question.”

Fynch discreetly gave me a look, though I couldn’t make out his intent. A warning? A supportive nudge?

“I thought I was clear on the matter,” the elf replied.

“I did, too, at first. Now, I’m not so sure.”

“Why are you pursuing this topic?” Adriana asked. She’d gone from humming a tune to totally on edge. I saw it in the stiffness of her body and heard it in the clipped tone of her voice.

“The title typically indicates a connection to royalty. There is the Seelie court, overseen by King Oberon and Queen Aine. You are a fae. The logical conclusion is you have some kind of connection to the throne.”

Fynch suddenly took a deep interest in the sugar cookies he was decorating.

The elf crossed her arms. “Is it?”

“Oh, come on, Adriana. You’re dancing around the topic so hard, it’s clear as day.”

“I do not understand why you are so interested in my background.”

“Because we have a mutual friend who’s about to be ripped from his home and his second family. And now I’m wondering if you have a connection to Oberon and Aine, and if you do, you could use that connection to help our friend. But you evade my questions, which implies you haven’t gone to the court to defend Keg. And frankly, that’s a puzzle I want to solve. If you are royalty, why wouldn’t you help Keg? And if you aren’t, why are you defensive? I’m sorry for pushing, and if Keg’s departure wasn’t imminent, I’d let the matter drop.”

Adriana frowned and turned her back to me. “I would do all in my power to allow Keg to remain here.”

“If you are connected to the Seelie Court, then petitioning Oberon and Aine would be a reasonable way to do that.”

“It is complicated,” she replied.

“Helping someone you care about is never complicated,” I said.

Fynch’s eyes went wide, and he moved his finger across his throat. That was a message I understood.

“I’m sorry for being pushy,” I continued. “I’m not trying to pry. I’m just looking for any way we can help our friend.”

Adriana was quiet for a while. The only sounds in the kitchen were related to our cooking and baking. Soon, the silence grew so large I was too intimidated to break it. To my immense relief, Adriana spoke first.

“You are prying, despite my best efforts to politely dissuade you.”

“Yes,” I admitted. “You’re right. And I’m sorry. Please forget I brought it up.”

The elf turned to face me. “I forgive you. And I will give you a more direct answer. Yes, I am distantly related to the queen. And when I was in my home world, I did visit the court. However, I have not been there in centuries. My power in that arena is currently no more than that of a common fae. In fact, any attempt to communicate with the court would be met with a good deal of unpleasantness.”

“Why?” I asked, and then I corrected myself. “I’m sorry. There I go, prying again.”

“Please know that if I thought my pleas for help had even a remote chance of finding a friendly ear, I would shower the court with letters. I suspect I would do more harm than good.”

“Thanks for sharing that with me. I understand, and I won’t bug you about it anymore.”

Which, of course, was completely different from continuing to wonder what her secret really was.

Chapter Eighteen

We hit a break in baking, and I took a small lunch up to the retreat in the hopes of finding something in dwarven culture to help with Keg’s situation. I’d found nothing in the books I’d searched so far, and I was grabbing more titles.

Straws was probably more appropriate, as I felt I was running out of time.

I sipped a tea Adriana had made for me, a delicious home-brew she’d invented. The aroma had a similar effect as caffeine. A couple of whiffs, and my head felt sharper and clearer. I flipped through the books and carefully nibbled on fruit, cheese, and crackers. The last thing I wanted to do was drop crumbs onto books that were decades or centuries old.

Learning how much the reliquary got right was interesting, but understanding how much it got wrong was fascinating. Being on the inside and interacting with fae had put so much of my family’s personal journals in a different light.

Before coming to Manhattan, I read nothing but increasing fear and hatred of the Fair Folk, along with a growing mix of anger and the sense of being persecuted. After just a few days of being surrounded by fae, I found the journal entries to be closer to a sad testament to Adriana’s well-meant but tragically executed plan for connecting with mortals.

I desperately wished I could go back in time and let my ancestors know the truth about the Fair Folk. So many women unnecessarily lived their lives in fear of the Seelie, when they could have found comfort and protection from them.

Putting that depressing revelation aside, I allowed myself to enjoy the treasure trove of information the library contained. Between the titles in the steward’s office and the adjoining library, plus the books in Thomas’s office, I had over a thousand reading options at my fingertips.

I scanned the stack of books, which included titles like, Hammer, Forge, Axe: An Examination of Dwarven Society; For the Forge!; and The Light Under the Mountain. Like any culture, the dwarven one had unique customs, norms, and belief sets that separated it from others. And, like every society, the adherence to those customs, norms, and beliefs varied from individual to individual.

I heard the rhythmic pattern of padded feet climbing the spiral staircase. Snowpuff’s head rose into view.

Hello.

“Hello,” I said.

This entrance is better?

“Much.”

The wyrm stepped into the room and lightly jumped into my lap, nuzzling her way under the book in my hands. Ear scratches, please.

I began gently scratching behind one of her ears, and she purred in delight. Thank heavens she was tiny.

My deep dive into dwarven culture was paying off. I was continuing to shake my lifelong, mistaken beliefs about dwarves, as well as replacing them with a more accurate understanding. The commonly held values of dwarves—honesty, fairness, hard work, familial duty, loyalty, community—really colored their views.

For my purposes, they shaped my ideas on how to help Keg.

Dwarves were considered to have a wide emotional range, much like mortals. Unlike mortals, dwarves were generally sticklers for protocol and tradition. One such tradition, called sanctuary, sounded intriguing.

Sanctuary was extremely old. I’m talking close to three or four thousand years, way back when violence between fae was far more common. In this case, dwarves weren’t just fighting other fae, there was war between their clans.

The tradition sprang up as a way to stem the violence and begin building bridges between dwarven communities. Regardless of your past deeds, you could appeal to a dwarven clan or family for sanctuary. You asked for forgiveness for your past actions and protection going forward in exchange for pledging fealty. If all parties agreed, you were spared the blade of revenge, but you’d be expected to do whatever was asked of you.

Family members were barred from appealing for sanctuary, and I guessed even the dwarves had a line they couldn’t cross when it came to in-house treachery. That meant Keg couldn’t ask for sanctuary from his parents.

But I could do so on his behalf, given I was instrumental in putting him in his current situation. My idea slowly took shape.

If I approached the Grimlocks and made the case that Keg was only in trouble with the Seelie Court because of me, and I got them to accept that I was to blame, I could ask for sanctuary. And if they granted it to me, that would be tantamount to admitting Keg wasn’t at fault and had done nothing wrong. And if they admitted that, I could argue that Keg didn’t need to leave House Vervain.

The plan was hanging from an uncomfortably slender thread, I’ll admit. Lots of ifs and maybes along the way to Melina saves the day! And I’d be forever at the mercy of the two dwarves. Keg’s parents could order me to step down as steward, leave Manhattan, come with them to the fae world, or anything else.

My heart was making plans to save Keg, but if I succeeded, my head warned me the price might be a lot higher than I was willing to pay.

Chapter Nineteen

Islipped down to the kitchen at two o’clock to check on the dinner and share my idea with the rest of the Vervain members. Adriana was still there.

“Where’s Fynch?” I asked.

The elf chuckled. “Playing video games. Practicing his magic tricks. Who knows? He left not long after you.”

The kitchen smelled so good, my stomach suddenly decided it was super hungry.

“What’s left to do?” I asked as I tried one of the cookies cooling on a rack. Tasted like chocolate and peanut butter with a hint of cinnamon.

“Not very much. We are in great shape, though I need to slip out to the market for some items. Care to join me?”

“Of course.”

Walking past Thomas’s empty office wasn’t fun, but I consoled myself with his promise that he’d soon be back.

We grabbed our coats and stepped outside. The city’s holiday decorations were on full display, and my mood lightened as we walked down the street. Even better, Adriana seemed to be her old self again.

“It truly is a magical place,” she said.

The crisp air chilled my skin but in a refreshing way. I understood why people complained about the nonstop noise of the city, but it didn’t bother me nearly as much as I thought it would. Even the dull ache from my leg seemed to ease, though that might simply have been the wound continuing to heal.

“Manhattan?” I replied. “Totally. There’s an energy here unlike any place I’ve been. Not that I’ve been to a lot of places.” Aside from my birthplace in a small Nebraska town, my time in Cold Creek, and less than a dozen trips to Raleigh, NC, I really hadn’t experienced any other towns.

“That would be the nexus,” Adriana replied. “Even beings who are unable to use magic respond to it at a very fundamental level. We each experience it somewhat differently, however. I find it rejuvenating. Others find that it boosts their energy or reduces illnesses.”

“I can’t quite put my finger on it,” I said. “I just know I’ve felt more alive than ever before.”

The elf nodded. “I am pleased to hear that, Melina. Despite everything that has been going on recently, you seem more at ease with yourself than when you first arrived.”

That was an understatement. I almost couldn’t remember the version of me who had portaled to House Vervain a week ago. I hadn’t been running to Manhattan so much as fleeing from the Unseelie dearg elves trying to kill me. Once I’d landed in the Big Apple, a good bit of my world got turned inside out and upside down.

“Yeah, I think I am. I mean, I feel better knowing the truth about the fae. And about my family.”

“It must have been difficult, though. Learning how much of what you had been told about us was wrong.”

I shrugged. “It could have been a lot worse. And you and everyone else have helped me feel welcomed.”

Adriana nodded again. “That pleases me to hear. The house feels more complete with you there. And I think you have done an admirable job as a terribly unqualified steward.” She nudged my arm and laughed.

I joined in. “Terribly unqualified.”

The elf slipped her arm through mine. “I am so glad you found your way to House Vervain. I often worried about you. I wondered what you thought of the fae and whether you were using your abilities. Mostly, I wished to be able to do this. Talk with you. Get to know the woman you became. I am saddened by how things went with your ancestors, but I am thrilled to be part of your life now. To be able to guide you into a larger world. Makes me feel like I am correcting the tragedies of the past, even if only on a very small scale.”

“I’m not going to lie. I’ve enjoyed experiencing Manhattan and meeting fae. And I like it at Vervain. I still miss my dad and my friends back home, of course.”

“I should hope so. We have not kidnapped you, and you are free to leave Manhattan whenever you like.”

“I know.”

“And as for the stewardship, you can walk away from that anytime, too. We would miss you terribly, but we would be even more distraught if you felt you were trapped here.”

“Are you trying to get rid of me?” I asked.

“Of course not!” She pursed her lips and sighed. “I suppose recent events have forced me to remember how much you have sacrificed for us. Reminded me how difficult your journey has been. Not just now but your entire life. Living in fear of those who only sought your acknowledgment? I cannot imagine what that was like. Regardless, I want to make sure you know the door home to Cold Creek is always open.”

I appreciated her checking in and reminding me I truly could call the shots. My desire to go home hadn’t vanished overnight, but my willingness to stay in House Vervain grew a little each day.

And I wouldn’t go so far as to say Adriana had become a stand-in for the mother I’d lost, but I was enjoying our time together in the kitchen. It brought back joyful memories of time with Mom before she died. Kind of like I felt connected to Mom whenever I used her wooden spoon and mixing bowl for baking.

“Thanks for the reminder. I was thinking about Christmas, you know? Going home to see Dad and Dee.”

“Absolutely.” Adriana patted my arm. “I think that sounds lovely.”

“I was worried you’d say it wasn’t safe or that I shouldn’t go.”

“Nod has not reported anything unusual. I believe a holiday with your friends and family in Cold Creek is just what you need.” She looked away for a moment and squeezed my arm. “You asked about my connection to the court earlier today. I am ready to talk about it.”

“Sure,” I replied. “I mean, but only if you’re comfortable.”

She nodded. “I am a very, very distant relative of the queen, though I am not in line for the throne. My connection to the court was severed long before I crossed over to your world, and I deliberately avoided using the title. Some of the local fae insist on calling me lady, though I have discouraged that in all but a few cases.”

“Like Pinter.”

She smiled. “Yes. Pinter has a special place in my heart. At any rate, I tried to leave all that behind, and not just because I was stuck in this world.”

“I get it. Hearing the title was a constant reminder of what you’d lost.”

“Mmm. I wish it was that simple. No, even if I wanted to make an appearance, I could not do so without suffering a swift and severe punishment.”

“Oh.”

Adriana shrugged. “I no longer fret over what might have been or what I could have done differently. I do, however, mourn for the time when I could have entered the court without fear of retaliation. A lot of fae stopped coming to this world for fear of being trapped. I have missed several royal events at the court, but I desperately miss my friends and family even more.”

This was another insight into the elf’s past, and I realized I knew only the most superficial details about the Vervain fae and Thomas. I would correct that. If I managed to keep the house together, that is.

And I felt sad for Adriana but also impressed. She’d lost the ability to visit her home world. I knew that. What I’d failed to do was take the next logical step and consider that most or maybe even all of her friends and family were no longer visiting her here. If I’d driven to Raleigh for my meeting with Morton Electronics and unexpectedly learned afterwards that I couldn’t return home and my friends and family couldn’t or wouldn’t visit me in Raleigh, I’d have been devastated.

She could have easily let that tragedy define her. Instead, she rose above it and carved out a new life in House Vervain.

I also noted that my quandary over splitting time between Cold Creek and Manhattan paled in comparison to hers. I had a choice. I could come and go as I pleased.

“I’m sorry you’re stuck here, but I’m also grateful because we likely never would have met otherwise.”

She gave me arm another squeeze. “Me, too.”

“On a related but less happy note,” I said, “I’m worried about losing Thomas and Keg. I have an idea for changing Keg’s parents’ minds, but I’m at a loss about our consigliere. Any thoughts on how to keep them under our roof?”

“Thomas simply needs time, and if his path does not lead him back to us, that may be the best for him. Our needs should not overshadow his.”

That was a truth bomb, big time. I’d had Adam’s voice echoing in my head on repeat for so long, all I was focused on was keeping the house together. I was embarrassed to admit I hadn’t considered that Thomas might always find House Vervain a source of pain greater than the joy it could continue offering him.

I still wanted him to stay, of course, but if he needed to leave, I’d support that decision as well.

“You’re right,” I said. “I wasn’t taking that into consideration. I mean, I always wanted the best for him, but I just presumed that meant coming back to a house where he would be wrapped up in love and concern. Thanks for the reminder.”

“I do have a few extra centuries of experience on you, Melina. Human behavior often remains a mystery to me, but I have learned a few things over time.”

“I really want him at dinner to support Keg,” I replied. “Having a mortal in Keg’s corner could really help.”

“I would like that as well. We shall endeavor with or without him and do our best.”

“Speaking of which, I found something in a book today that’s a long shot but may be a way to save Keg from exile.” I gave her a summary of the sanctuary tradition and how I planned on falling on my figurative sword.

“That is a concept I have heard about. It is interesting but also incredibly risky. I did not mention it because I do not support this approach. Keg’s parents are nice enough, and I doubt they would intentionally treat you cruelly or physically harm you. However, there is much they could do that you would find unpleasant at best.”

I shrugged. “Believe me, I’m aware.”

“I doubt you truly do, but either way, you should reject this plan.”

“What other options do we have?” I asked.

“We will present them with a dwarven feast and then make our plea to allow Keg to stay. There really is not much more to be done. Keg is a grown dwarf, and the dwarven culture, as I suspect you now have some appreciation for, can be inflexible in certain areas. Besides, family matters are often complex. We do not know what other dynamics might be at play behind Belin and Nanda’s decision.”

Adriana was totally right about family dynamics. Keg had even hinted that he’d let down his parents before.

The elf’s apparent detachment from what I considered a full-blown crisis was surprising and even a little depressing. I’d presumed she was more upset than I was. She and Keg had known each other for centuries. They were friends. Shouldn’t she be devastated by the possibility Keg would have to leave Vervain?

“I know you’re right, Adriana, but I can’t help it. I’m worried sick about this.”

“I am distraught at the possibility of Keg’s unwanted departure, but I am choosing to focus on what I can control and not spending my time and energy on matters beyond my control.”

“I’ll say this,” I replied. “You are the perfect embodiment of the elven stereotype when it comes to emotions.”

She frowned. “Do not confuse a lack of expression with a lack of emotion. I will be extremely upset if Keg has to leave.”

Ugh, I keep putting my foot in my mouth.

“I’m not judging, Adriana, I’d love to have a little detachment right about now.”

We came to a stop outside a retail shop called New Look, Nu U. A going-out-of-business sign was in the window, and most of the shelves and racks were empty. A handful of customers picked through the remainders.

Adriana led me inside, where we found a selkie behind the counter, glamoured as a female mortal in her twenties. Her selkie appearance was a curvy female with long brown hair and dark-brown eyes. Her hair reached her feet and formed a perfectly brushed covering like a pelt that wrapped around her from neck to toe. The hair’s sheen made it look wet, even though it clearly wasn’t.

“Hello, Brish,” Adriana said. “What’s going on?”

“Hello, Adriana. Steward Morgan. I’m afraid I’m calling it quits. Business had steadily dried up, and I don’t have the energy to keep going.”

“Certainly you can afford to keep the doors open with your other abilities,” Adriana replied. “If it is money, I am sure House Vervain can help.”

“Thank you, I do appreciate that. But it’s not just the money. I truly enjoy working here. But the constant barrage of one-star reviews, the interruptions in inventory, the website hacking—I can’t deal with the stress of being targeted like this.”

“Who’s behind it?” I asked, though I really didn’t want to know the answer.

Brish lowered her voice. “It has to be the little crypto gnomes. My business has been consistently and systematically targeted for months in ways mortals simply aren’t capable of. No offense.”

“None taken,” I said. “What will you do?”

“Spend some time with Simi. We’ve been working so hard this year to keep the store going. A little downtime with her would be nice. And of course, we’ll be at Wren’s solstice party. After that?” She sighed. “Fates will decide.”

I had no clue just how much havoc the Unseelie were showering on Manhattan. Killing Seelie was obviously horrific, but the constant harassment was horrific in its own way.

“I’m terribly sorry, Brish,” I said. “Adriana is right. If there’s anything House Vervain can do to help, please let us know.”

“You are new to your role, Steward Morgan, and I do not expect you to correct all the grievances that have occurred before you took up your mantle. I would love to see you make Manhattan safe for us in a way it has never fully been. Your predecessors tried, and they certainly gave us a haven we desperately needed. But even they and the power of the nexus could not keep us completely safe. I mean no disrespect, but I believe you will find it impossible as well.”

“Perhaps, but I’m still going to try. Would you please excuse me for a sec?”

I walked to an empty corner and pretended to check my phone. I mentally sent a message to Snowpuff asking where she was.

By the front door.

Do you know anything about the Techgnome Bros interfering with this store? Can you go back in time?

Firstly, I’m not at your beck and call. Secondly, I shall not be summoned to perform petty parlor tricks. You are my pet, I am not yours. Either feed me or cease your nagging. I get hungry when I am annoyed, and I’m growing curious about how selkies taste.

Don’t you even joke about that. If you want your soul back, you better not harm a single creature. Understand?

I understand your request.

More semantic hairsplitting.

Look, I don’t have time to argue with you, and you seem anxious to go back to doing nothing, so let’s make everyone happy, huh?

There was a long pause. Then, The gnomes have been tampering with the operations of this business.

Thank you. Was that so hard?

I demand compensation.

That wasn’t part of the deal.

Snowpuff appeared in front of me. I demand tummy rubs. And then a steak.

Oh. Okay, that’s not what I was—

The wyrm rolled over on her back. Starting now.

Chapter Twenty

Our walk to the market had literally taken a depressing turn. The sky overhead had collected thick, dark clouds, as if to underscore my predicament.

“What am I going to do, Adriana?” I asked. “I don’t want to issue a declaration of aggression because I think that’s just going to make things worse. But I can’t sit back and let the TGB continue to walk all over the Manhattan fae. And I can’t access the nexus even if I wanted to because Thomas isn’t here to teach me because he’s still working through whatever state Adam is in, and I’m not angry with him—because how could I be?—but that doesn’t change the fact that—”

“Slow down, Melina, slow down. You said you wanted some of my emotional balance. This is the perfect opportunity.”

I took a deep breath. “Okay. Tell me how this isn’t spiraling out of control. Tell me how in the world I’m not making things worse.”

“It may be, and you may be. Or it may not be, and you may not be. Time is often the leavening catalyst required to judge your efforts.”

“But that’s just it! We don’t have time!” I protested. “The dinner is in a few hours, and we won’t have a second chance to save Keg. The TGB or some other Unseelie could attack again at any moment. And we’re on the verge of watching the Seelie fae retaliate, which could trigger a full-out war.”

“Or the opposite will be true. Melina, you do not strike me as someone who lives in the past, but you seem fixated on the future, particularly ones that are undesirable.”

“How can I not think about the future?”

Adriana paused in front of a market called The Bountiful Basket. I’d seen it before.

The elf opened the door. “Follow me.”

The market looked like a lot of the ones I’d seen in Manhattan, and a mix of mortals and fae shopped the aisles. Adriana walked towards the back and down a short hallway that turned ninety degrees and ended at a door marked Private.

She turned the handle and pushed on the door. A staircase led down.

“Where are we going? I thought you wanted to shop.”

“I do. And we are.”

I followed her down to a market twice as large as the one upstairs. This one, however, had nothing but fae customers. A male elf at the bottom of the stairs nodded at us as we passed.

“Was that a bouncer?” I asked.

Adriana laughed. “Yes, though only fae can open the door. He is what you could call backup.”

The windows in the place offered views that couldn’t possibly be real. Without my sight, I would have been convinced the market was nestled in a thick forest and soaking up lots of bright sunshine.

My sight ruined the illusion, however, as I realized magic was at play. Still, the effect was cool, and it really made you feel like you weren’t grocery shopping in a market.

Until you saw what was for sale and who was selling it.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“The Undermarket. That is what we call it today. Its original name was very fae and very long and very hard to pronounce. Undermarket may be rather unimaginative, but it is much easier to say.”

“How long has it been around?”

“It is the oldest fae market in Manhattan and was established not long before House Vervain was created. This is still the finest collection of fae offerings in all of Manhattan.”

There were rows of vegetables and meats and fruits and lots more, just like a mortal grocery store. There were tiny shops selling hot food and beverages. Then there were the offerings you would never find in your local market, including lots of non-edible items being sold by vendors sitting behind counters and tables. The whole thing was a mashup of a grocery store, bazaar, and food court.

Adriana picked up a wicker basket and wedged the handle into the crook of her elbow. “Let us see what the market has to offer us, shall we?”

She cruised through the food section, stopping only to pick up a few items I couldn’t immediately place as mortal or fae. Were the lime-green carrots really just regular carrots or were they native to the fae world? Were the grapefruit-sized strawberries mutated versions of the food I loved so much, or were they also fae food?

I demand that steak, Snowpuff telepathically said to me. The large one on the left.

I stopped and pointed at a massive cut of meat. This one?

Yes.

“May I help you?” a dwarf behind the counter said.

“Um, yes, I’d like that steak right there, please,” I said. The dwarf wrapped it up in waxed paper and handed it to me. Adriana paid him with a couple of gold coins she’d pulled from her pocket. The coins were larger than most I’d come across. I highly doubted any mortal had minted them.

“Ah, here we go,” Adriana said. She’d stopped at a vendor’s table which held several unlabeled jars. “Good afternoon, Fhil.”

The vendor, a male gnome with mutton chop sideburns and a thick head of black hair, grinned up at the elf. “Afternoon, m’lady! Haven’t seen you in a while.” He turned to me and removed an invisible hat. Or he was just miming; I couldn’t tell. “And you must be the new Vervain steward. Name’s Fhil. Pleasure.”

“Likewise.”

“We are preparing a special dinner tonight,” Adriana said. “Specifically, a dwarven feast. We need some appropriate seasonings.”

The gnome lifted a finger. “I’ve got just what you need!” He selected three of the jars. The first contained a thick blue paste. “Gooseberry paste.”

“Gooseberries are not special,” Adriana replied.

“Ah, but these aren’t from ordinary gooseberries! These have been grown only in moonlight. Never has a single ray of sun kissed their skin. Perfect for baking sweets or condiments for an entrée.”

“I will take two. What is next?”

The second jar had what looked like orange sparkles.

“Savory Speckles. Makes MSG taste like water. Don’t need much. Easy to overdo it.”

“One, please.”

The gnome held up the last jar, which contained a milky liquid. “Tears of Joy.”

Adriana narrowed her eyes. “That is really Tears of Joy?”

Fhil chuckled. “Yes. I can give you a friendly discount, but it still won’t be cheap.”

“How much?”

The gnome scratched his chin. “Forty fae ducats for all three.”

Adriana held the Tears of Joy jar up to the light and gently swirled the contents. “Thirty-five.”

“Thirty-eight, and I’ll throw in a jar of everlast.”

“Deal.” Adriana pulled more coins from her pocket and handed them to Fhil. “Thank you, my friend.”

Another tip of his nonexistent hat. “A pleasure as always, m’lady. Steward Morgan, don’t you be a stranger.”

I smiled. “Thank you.”

We walked on.

“What’s Tears of Joy?” I asked.

The elf looped her hair behind an ear. “A very rare seasoning dwarves absolutely love. Not everyone enjoys the taste, but few dwarves would turn down the chance to enjoy food seasoned with this.”

“How rare is it?”

“Fhil would have likely charged anyone else thirty-five ducats just for that one jar.”

I didn’t have the faintest idea how much a fae ducat was worth in mortal dollars, but I understood how great of a deal Adriana had just gotten. “Nice! What’s next?”

“Some honey and whisky, I think.” Fifteen minutes later, we left the market. Adriana exchanged the basket for a small bag and transferred our bounty. “I think that was a successful outing. Now we need to get back home and finish off the dinner preparation.”

“Whatever you say, Chef.”

We returned to House Vervain to find the dining room decked out in what I took to be dwarven fashion. The holiday decorations were still there, though now there were also pieces of metallic art. I was glad to see Keg’s art still hung on the walls.

“Fynch, this looks incredible!” I called out.

The imp flew in from the kitchen. “Hey! Thanks, but I had some help.”

Thomas appeared in the butler’s pantry doorway. He wore a dark vest and slacks and had his shirt sleeves were rolled up. He wiped his hands on an apron hanging from his waist. “I don’t suppose you have need of an extra pair of hands tonight?”

“Thomas!” I screamed and ran to give him a hug. “I thought you weren’t coming back for a while.”

“I couldn’t let this dinner happen without me. I don’t want Keg to go, either.”

I gave him another hug. “I’m so glad to see you.”

“Me, too,” he replied.

The consigliere’s surprise return put tears in my eyes. I wiped them away and looked at Adriana.

She winked at me. “Or not.”

I laughed. “Or not, indeed.”

“I feel like I’m missing something,” Thomas said.

“Adriana was just reminding me not to be too hard on myself.”

“That is excellent advice,” he replied with a grin. “Okay, so we’ve got the tenderloin going into the oven, and a bunch of appetizers ready to go closer to seven o’clock.” He eyed the basket in Adriana’s hand. “What did you find at Undermarket?”

“Just a few things to spice up the dinner,” Adriana replied. “And it is very good to see you, Thomas.” She kissed his cheek before slipping past him and heading into the kitchen.

Fynch rubbed his hands together. “We can do this, Melina, I just know it. We’re going to save Keg.”

“I hope so, Fynch. I sure hope so.”

We went to the kitchen, where Adriana had already begun adding Fhil’s seasonings to various dishes.

“You found Tears of Joy?” Fynch whistled. “Haven’t seen that in months. How expensive was it?”

“Fhil gave us a nice discount,” Adriana said.

“And some everlast, I bet.”

“What’s everlast?” I asked.

“It makes fae food last longer without spoiling.”

Made sense. Nothing like putting the benefits right in the name.

Thomas peered over Adriana’s shoulder. “That smells amazing. What did you just put on the tenderloin?”

“Savory Speckles.”

His eyes went wide, and he backed away. “You didn’t.”

“Just control yourself this time, Thomas.” Adriana turned to me. “The last time I used this was on a turkey. Thomas couldn’t resist, and he ate the entire thing before dinner.”

“That stuff is addictive!” Thomas said with an exaggerated tone. “You can’t stop eating once you have a taste.”

Adriana waved a dismissive hand at him. “It is not the least bit addictive. Do not blame the speckles for your lack of self-control.”

Thomas grinned at me. “I felt awful for two days after eating the turkey, but it was sooooo worth it.”

I hoped Adam was somehow watching the friendly banter and obvious affection filling the kitchen. Seeing Thomas back to his old self, even for a few minutes, filled me with joy. The exchange took the edge off my anxiety and gave me a much-needed boost of confidence about keeping the house together.

We might just pull this off after all.

Chapter Twenty-One

The doorbell rang promptly at seven o’clock. Despite seeing Thomas and having Adriana calmly keep the kitchen under control, my nerves were super on edge.

I couldn’t stop imagining all the ways the dinner could go sideways, and how that could mean Keg would be forever lost to us. And while I’d miss him, I’d also be sad that he’d have to give up his passion for painting and music.

Adriana, Thomas, Fynch, and I lined up at the front door to greet Keg and his parents.

“We welcome you into our home and offer you our hospitality and protection,” I said with far too much enthusiasm. The Grimlocks didn’t seem overly impressed by my use of a traditional dwarven greeting, but on the other hand, they didn’t walk away, either. I decided to add that to our Win column.

“We graciously accept your offer,” Belin replied.

I am hungry, pet.

Not now! I need to focus on this. Wait till after dinner.

I hung their coats on the rack by the front door and delivered the next set of memorized lines. “We have prepared a small performance in honor of your presence. If you’ll allow us the gift of your attention, we would happily share it with you.”

“We would be honored,” Belin said. I smiled and gestured towards the receiving room at the front of the house. We’d arranged the furniture into a circle and turned the bay window space into a small performing area.

Keg and Nanda had remained quiet, though Nanda’s eyes were filled with a mix of disapproving judgement and distant apathy. Of the two parents, she would be the most difficult to convince.

As planned, Adriana stepped in front of the bay window and, after a nod at us, began singing a traditional dwarven song about family.

Up to now, I’d just heard the elf hum a few bars or softly sing while moving about the house. That night, she delivered passion and energy from the first note, and she held herself in a poise that captivated the entire room. I had not difficulty believing she had royal blood.

There was no charm at work other than the quality of her powerful, sweet, and delicate voice, which brought the entire room under its non-magical spell.

Keg sat behind his parents, just like we’d texted him to do. Thomas quietly uncovered Keg’s guitar, which we’d placed in the corner, and handed it to the dwarf.

On the second verse of the song, Keg joined in with his guitar. His parents turned in surprise. Nanda seemed disappointed, but Belin’s face was filling with pride. As it should have; Keg’s skill with the guitar was incredible. He swung from simple strumming to picking individual strings to complicated flourishes as Adriana worked through the lyrics.

The Grimlocks turned back around and politely waited until the song was finished. Belin got to his feet first, with Nanda reluctantly doing so a moment later. Thomas, Fynch, and I clapped loudly, while Adriana and Keg took a small bow.

“We hope you glimpsed the aspirational experience our humble song aimed for and forgive our failings,” I said to the Grimlocks.

The traditional response was, “We see no gap between the two.”

Instead, Belin replied, “That was incredible. Absolutely incredible.” His response drew a narrow-eyed dagger stare from his wife. Belin hastily added, “And we find no gap between the two.”

Was Nanda upset about her husband’s misstep? Or about his blatant praise for Keg’s performance?

“Thank you,” I said. “If you would please accompany me to the dining room, we have a meal to share with you.”

We filed into the dining room. I took my seat at the steward’s position, at the end of the table closest to the butler’s pantry. Belin sat opposite me, with Nanda on his left and Keg on his right. Adriana took a seat to my left, Thomas sat to my right. Fynch’s setting was next to the elf’s.

The food had been laid out just before seven o’clock, and between the everlast and a bit of magic from Thomas and Adriana, everything was still the proper temperature and texture.

A few empty chairs separated our two groups, which felt awkward. Unfortunately, as we were sticking to traditional dwarven etiquette, we didn’t have a choice.

After everyone had been seated, I rose and lifted a glass of dark-red wine in the direction of the Grimlocks. “To our esteemed guests, who have honored us with their company and blessed us with their friendship. May this meal fill our bodies, replenish our souls, and be worthy of those at this table. For hearth, forge, and family.”

The others selected a glass from their place settings—we’d put out water, wine, ale, and whiskey—and responded with, “For hearth, forge, and family.”

We sampled our drinks, and I sat down in relief. The most nerve-racking part of the dinner was over. I’d gotten through the traditional lines and steered us safely into the actual meal. The rest of our plan was a mix of planning and improvisation.

Each of the Vervain members would wait for an appropriate time to share their thoughts on how much Keg meant to them, why having a dwarf in our house had been so beneficial, and how losing him would be devastating for him and us.

And then we’d all be enjoying an incredible feast.

We had baked and cooked dozens of dwarven and fae dishes, and the table was overflowing with them. Spiced meats of all kinds, cheeses, fruits, jams, jellies, several varieties of honey, my sourdough loaves, potatoes cooked three different ways, carrots, and more.

There was no chance we’d finish it all, even if Adriana had covered everything in Savory Speckles.

Ten minutes later, I was no longer so sure about that. The Grimlocks were devouring the dishes. Not in a messy, rushed way, but there was no doubt they were going to put a massive dent in the dinner. Fynch did his part, too, and broke all laws of physics by consuming at least ten times his mass in food.

At least everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves when it came to eating. The conversation was far less impressive, and it occurred to me the gusto for food might actually be a way of avoiding the elephant in the room.

“How was your day?” I asked in an attempt to elicit some discussion around a less sensitive topic. “Did you see any of the famous sights on the island?”

“We enjoyed a handful of the more popular sights,” Belin said.

“Wonderful. Which ones?”

“We walked through Central Park. We visited Grand Central Terminal. And we saw a very large tree that had been decorated.”

“That sounds delightful! I love the park,” I said.

“It was pleasant enough,” Nanda replied.

Keg had not said a single word since they’d entered the house, and he kept his head down during dinner. I guessed this was part of dwarven culture, or he figured saying nothing was the best option.

“If you have a chance,” Thomas said to fill the silence, “I highly recommend seeing one of the shows on Broadway. And, of course, there’s the Statue of Liberty.”

“Yes,” Belin said. “The large green woman. We observed her from afar.”

“She’s more impressive up close,” Thomas added.

“I’m sure,” Nanda said with a frosty smile.

This whole thing had started off well but was beginning to veer dangerously off course. I needed to get us back on track.

“As you know, I recently stepped into the role of steward for this house. I’ve only known Keg for a brief time, but he has impressed me with his dedication to his culture. He’s an incredible ambassador for the dwarven community.”

Nanda skewered me with a dry look. “Are you implying it is a rarity for dwarves to be dedicated to their roots?”

“I . . . No, of course not. I simply meant he has done a great deal to educate me on dwarven culture, and I’ve been extremely impressed with what I’ve learned.”

“You may be surprised to learn that hearing of a mortal, steward status notwithstanding, being impressed by a dwarf is not as extraordinary as you seem to think it is.”

I sat speechless while I parsed her reply, and when I grasped the meaning, I blushed with embarrassment. Nearly choked on my reply would have also been accurate. Instead of delivering the snarky retort I wanted to, I chose to roll with it.

“You are quite correct, though I think you have to agree Keg has admirably weathered his exile from his home world and brought the wonders of the dwarven community to the mortal plane. On a more personal note, I’m grateful and lucky to have been gifted his friendship.”

“Yes, you are,” Nanda replied.

“I believe,” Belin said, “what Melina is trying to say is that Kegster has been a positive influence on this house. And I am grateful to hear that.”

Belin to the rescue!

I’d thought we’d have to convince both parents to secure Keg’s future with House Vervain. Winning over Belin might be enough, if he could, in turn, convince his wife.

“Yes. Yes, exactly,” I said. “I’m glad you understand.”

The conversation slowly corrected itself, and there were even moments of shared laughter, though for Nanda that meant a quiet chuckle and the barest curve of a smile on her face. Still, I added that to our Win column as well.

One by one, the Vervain crew echoed my words with far more eloquent deliveries than mine. I sat and watched the transformation at the other end of the table. Keg kept his head up and chimed in occasionally. Belin kept giving his son bemused and proud looks. Even Nanda, for all her porcupine-like attitude, loosened up. A bit.

We’re going to pull this off. We’re really going to do it!

“More tenderloin?” I asked the Grimlocks.

“Please,” Belin said.

I picked up the plate. Or I tried to. It remained fixed in place as if someone had glued it to the table. I pulled harder. The plate refused to budge.

Weird.

I reached for the large serving fork and went to spear a slice. I jumped back in surprise as Snowpuff materialized with a hiss.

I told you I was hungry, pet!

The rest of the table spilled backwards out of their chairs. Fynch and Thomas suddenly had fireballs in their hands. Keg grabbed a steak knife and moved to protect his parents.

Snowpuff, no!

“Fireballs to the face!” Fynch screamed. His fiery globe hit Snowpuff and left scorches on everything around her. Instead of being consumed by flames herself, the wyrm glared at the imp and pounced. Fynch yelped, let loose another fireball, and dashed away. The pair chased each other around the room like a dog and cat, though I couldn’t tell you who was who in that situation.

Plates of food were flying, and the pair of fae bounced around the room like a couple of pinballs moving at light speed.

The hobs were supposed to handle minor damages to the house and clean up any messes. They also could work incredibly fast. But they also didn’t like being in a room with other fae. As I watched Snowpuff and Fynch tear up the room, I was convinced they might do more damage than the hobs could fix.

“Fynch! Snowpuff! Stop it right now!”

The wyrm disappeared, and everyone froze in place. Belin’s face was covered in whipped potatoes. Purple jam dripped from Nanda’s hair. Wine and whisky stains covered the table. Scorch marks plastered the walls.

I held up a plate of pear tarts, about the only food left intact.

“Dessert anyone?”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Iwas never a big whisky drinker. Not until that dinner, anyway.

As I slumped in my seat, surveying the carnage left behind by Fynch and Snowpuff, I decided the only reasonable response was whisky. Lots and lots of whisky.

The wyrm hadn’t responded to my mental attempts to contact her. I wasn’t even sure she was still in the house, though it seemed unlikely she would have gone far.

On the other hand, Keg’s parents had practically sprinted out with barely a word, and I couldn’t fault them for it. The Grimlocks weren’t aware of Snowpuff’s presence, and all three had freaked out at her sudden appearance. Even if Belin and Nanda suddenly changed their minds, Keg might not want to set foot in the house while Snowpuff was still there.

But I didn’t have the chance to find out, because the dwarves made a hasty retreat. Thomas was right behind them. He’d never said he was back for good, though after the train wreck that was dinner, I wouldn’t have been surprised if he chose never to come back.

Fynch was on high alert and prowling through the house in search of Snowpuff. Adriana had offered me a few words of consolation before retreating to her room.

Which left me and half a bottle of whisky sitting alone in the aftermath. Aside from the damage to the house, food and drink covered nearly every surface in the room. The hobs were still hiding in protest, most likely, and I didn’t dare call for Pinter.

Buttermilk biscuits.

We’d been so close to pulling it off, but thanks to my insistence about letting Snowpuff stay, I’d blown it. And maybe not just with Keg.

I took a sip of whisky, then I downed a mouthful and grimaced at the bite of the alcohol while I considered my options.

Head back to Cold Creek, where I could enjoy the support of friends and family? Or remain in Manhattan, where I only seemed capable of making things worse? The former would feel like admitting failure and giving up on the fae. The latter felt increasingly unappealing, especially as long as Snowpuff remained in the picture.

I imagined moving back in with Dad, scratching out a living as a tech writer, and going back to my Slumming Saturdays tradition with Dee. Meals at Millie’s, tea with Mrs. Tilley, hanging out with Jerry Montrose and Sophie. Who knows, maybe Nod would agree to hang around. I’d love to see the old dwarf again.

As for money, I could sell my house and pocket a small profit to help me get back on my feet.

You’re already working out the details for going home.

Yeah, I guess I am.

My life back home might have been small and simple compared to the magic, mage, and fae-filled world of Manhattan, but Cold Creek was full of love and people I cared deeply about.

Likewise, staying in Manhattan felt like intentionally inflicting a bad influence on the people I’d come to care about as well, said bad influence being me. If I left House Vervain, everything and everyone would be better off.

Adriana, Thomas, and Fynch could find a new steward for House Vervain, and I’d no longer be making stupid decisions that put people at risk.

The more I thought about it, and the more whisky I consumed, the more convinced I became that I was the X-factor in all of horrible things happening. Everything pointed back to me. The only logical answer was to leave before I made things worse. Besides, no one here would miss me. In a few months, they’d all move on with their lives, and the little steward from Cold Creek would be a temporary blip in the Manhattan faes’ memory.

“Hello,” Adriana said from the hallway entrance. “At the risk of making you feel worse, may I speak with you?”

I pointedly looked around the room. “Sure. And it can’t get any worse.”

“I am not entirely sure of that,” Adriana replied with an ominous tone. “This is a delicate matter, and I truly hoped matters would not force me to take action, but I feel compelled to have an open and honest conversation about tonight.”

I lifted my glass. “To open and honest conversations.” I was definitely feeling the effects of the whisky.

Adriana quirked an eyebrow. “The hobs are most anxious to clean up the damage to the house. As soon as you depart this room, they will begin restoring it.”

“That doesn’t sound like bad news.”

The elf used a napkin to wipe off the seat of the chair next to me. She sat, and her expression let me know I was right. “The hobs are also insistent that they will depart if you do not oust Snowpuff. I was able to convince them to stay because I assured them you would never intentionally allow a dangerous threat into the house, and you would handle the wyrm. Given tonight’s incident, the hobs no longer believe that is possible. They will leave House Vervain if the wyrm is not removed.”

“I don’t blame them,” I replied. “And they’re right.”

Adriana must have expected me to protest or deny the danger Snowpuff posed. The elf looked momentarily surprised. “Well. I am relieved to hear you say that. I fear the hobs are not the only ones considering leaving.”

“Already one step ahead of you,” I said. “And I know how to solve everyone’s problems.”

“And that would be?” she asked with more than a tad of skepticism in her voice.

“It’s obvious I’m everyone’s problem, so I’ll go back to Cold Creek. I’ll give you the ring, and you can pick a new steward. Someone who’s way more qualified than me, anyway. Maybe my departure will be enough to get Keg back here, too.”

Adriana leaned back and ran her finger along the edge of the table. “I see. Sounds like you have thought this through.”

“It’s obvious to me. Isn’t it obvious to you?”

She shrugged. “What is obvious to me is you care a great deal for House Vervain and the Manhattan fae.”

“Which is why I have to leave.”

“Is it?” She stared at me in a way that made me feel uncomfortable. “Because if you believe you are some sort of albatross around the neck of this house, do you truly believe fleeing back home will solve your problems? Even if you are correct about being everyone’s problem, have you not considered that you will be bringing a host of new problems to your hometown? If so, I politely question your logic.”

I squirmed in my seat, not wanting to agree with her, even though deep down I had a feeling she was right. I plunged forward anyway, grasping for some justification for leaving she couldn’t argue with.

“Everything was fine in Cold Creek before I left. Everything here was fine before Adam brought me here. If I go home and you find a new steward, everything goes back to normal.”

The elf laughed lightly. “For someone who is so smart, you can be surprisingly unwilling to see the reality of things. Nothing was normal about your life before you left Cold Creek. The deadzone was already weakening long before you stepped through Adam’s portal. And things here were dire. Why do you think Adam sought you out to begin with?”

I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

“I’m just saying, I’m the reason the Unseelie were in Cold Creek in the first place. I’m the reason Keg got in trouble. I’m the reason he has to leave House Vervain. I’m the reason the TGB are stirring up more trouble. I’m the reason a whiptail wyrm is running around the mortal plane. I’m the reason Adam’s dead, and I’m the reason Thomas can’t stand to be here anymore. Everywhere you look, I’m at the center of everything that’s gone wrong. You should be glad I’m leaving.”

My voice had gotten louder than I intended, and I realized my face was contorted with more than a touch of anger. Not at Adriana, but at the situation. I couldn’t fathom why she refused to see what was so clear to me. And the more I talked about it, the angrier I got.

“If you believe any of us will be glad to see you leave, you do not know us nearly as well as you think,” Adriana replied. “Of course, you are free to leave whenever you like. We will not stop you. But do not think for a moment we will take any pleasure in your departure.”

I twisted in a crucible of my own making. I wanted her to be angry with me. I wanted the others to ask me to leave, to demand that I leave.

Adriana’s refusal to do that denied me the justification for heading home. Adriana had gently made it clear that I couldn’t use them to justify my decision, and that realization left a deep cut across my conscience.

“I’m sorry,” I replied. “I don’t want to cause anyone any more pain.”

The elf placed her hand on my arm. “Pain is woven into our existence. Trying to eliminate it is futile and will only bring more pain. If you wish to soothe your discomfort, please consider instead the joy you bring to others. Reflect on what you have accomplished instead of what you have failed to achieve.”

I finished my drink. “Newsflash, Adriana: the level of joy around here has significantly plummeted.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

Where are we going? Snowpuff asked.

Just out for a walk. I need to think.

It might be the last time I enjoyed the city. Might as well savor one last view.

The temperature had dipped after sundown, and a wind whipped through the streets. Still, the holiday decorations and lights made the snow-covered city a dreamland. NYC was known as the city that never slept, and I’d learned just how true that was.

The fae I once feared so much that I hid in Cold Creek most of my life turned out to not all be monsters. I’d quickly made friends with those in House Vervain and others in Manhattan. And even though I’d just met even more fae—Bethina, Isla, Fhil, and more—I’d miss them if I left.

There was a community here just as tight-knit as the one back home. Different in some ways but not the ones that mattered.

I’d just begun to envision a new life in Manhattan, one filled with fae, brioche buttons, peppermint lattes, and fresh bakery bread. Walks through Central Park and shopping trips to Undermarket. Dinners at House Vervain and Fynch’s magic tricks and Keg’s guitar playing.

That path came at a cost, though, and I wasn’t the only one paying the price.

Adriana’s words had stirred up more than a little confusion in my head. Things seemed so clear before our talk, but now she had me second-guessing myself. If I was wrong about being the source of everyone’s problems, maybe I was wrong in thinking that leaving would make things better.

I’d thought I was doing the right thing with the TGB truce, but that turned out to be a disaster. I thought I’d been right to protect Snowpuff but that had backfired spectacularly.

What if all my instincts were wrong, and my decision to head home would blow up in my face, too?

I didn’t know what to do except to keep walking and keep thinking.

That was almost certainly why the two trolls had been able to sneak up behind me. One second, I was alone in my thoughts. The next, I had a troll on either side of me, each tightly gripping my arms.

“Just keep walking and act calm,” one of them said. They were glamoured as mortals, good-looking guys dressed for work in an office. “We just want your ring, steward.”

Right, every fae can see my crown.

Pedestrians flowed around us, oblivious to what was happening. I could try fading, though that wouldn’t do much good, given the fae already had me in their grip.

I’d stopped wearing the iron sliver on my necklace and stopped carrying my other anti-fae charms, as it made the Vervain Seelie uncomfortable.

All of which was to say that despite being gifted with unique abilities and being a steward, I was fairly helpless to defend myself against a common robbery.

“Okay,” I said. For a split second, I considered just handing it over. Heck, I was looking for an excuse, and this seemed like one being served up on a silver platter. If it came down to choosing my life over the ring, would anyone in House Vervain fault me for sacrificing the seal?

Well, I would. No matter how awful I felt, I couldn’t voluntarily give the Unseelie the ring. They likely worked for Piter Renard, though even if they didn’t, handing over the signet ring would put the Manhattan fae and the nexus in the wrong hands. Which meant I’d have to fight my way clear. Somehow.

“Just keep walking,” the other troll said.

The pair turned right at the next intersection and led me down a darkened street. The streetlights might have been out or the fae might have caused them to malfunction. Either way, they forced me into a pool of shadows to complete their business.

“All right, mortal, hand it over.”

“You work for Renard, don’t you?” I asked.

The pair cracked up at that. “He certainly thinks so. But no, we don’t pledge loyalty to a worm like him.” The taller troll held out his hand. A spike-covered cudgel appeared in the hands of the shorter one. “The ring, please.”

“Come on, you know I can’t just hand this over,” I said.

The taller troll rolled his neck, which cracked several times. “We’d have let you live, you know. Didn’t have to be this way.” He grinned and stepped forward in a flash, his hand reaching for my neck. He never came close to touching me.

Snowpuff appeared, hovering in place between the two trolls and me. The trolls’ eyes went wide.

The taller one nudged his companion. “Get the ring.”

“You get the ring.”

“We can’t go back empty handed.”

The pair were psyching themselves into fighting Snowpuff, and my money was on them trying.

Snowpuff, please do something.

I am. I am hovering in a very threatening manner.

I think they’re going to attack. Can you do something a bit more threatening?

You said, and I quote, ‘If you want your soul back, you better not harm a single creature.’ Will I get my soul back if I harm the troll?

Yes, just don’t kill them!

The taller troll pulled a long, serrated blade from a hidden sheath, and the fae attacked simultaneously. Snowpuff darted left and locked the taller troll’s forearm tightly in her teeth. At the same time, her barbed tail looped around the other troll’s arm and tightened, cutting through his coat sleeve. The shorter troll dropped his cudgel and bolted off into the dark.

The taller one screamed and uselessly shook his arm to fling off Snowpuff. He slammed his arm against a car, but Snowpuff seemed unfazed. The troll must have realized he was out of options and dropped his blade.

“I give up! I give up!”

Snowpuff released the troll, who clutched his bleeding arm and ran off after his companion.

Thank you, Snowpuff.

You may be just a pet, but you’re my pet. Besides, I did not care for how things concluded at tonight’s dinner.

Aw, that’s sweet of you. I accept your apology.

Apology? Why in the world would you think that was an apology? I have nothing to feel sorry about.

You turned the dinner into a fiasco and ruined any chance of Keg being able to stay. You and Fynch got into a fireball fight that went through most of the house. And thanks to your actions, the hobs are threatening to leave House Vervain. You’re quite sure you have nothing to feel sorry about?

I repeatedly requested food. You chose to focus on other tasks. I took matters into my own claws.

So, this is all my fault?

I hardly see how it could possibly be mine.

Well, then. As ticked off as I might have been about the wyrm’s lack of self-awareness, criticizing her mere seconds after she saved my life and House Vervain seemed petty. I’d address the issue later. Maybe.

I picked up the troll blade, which I had no desire to take back to House Vervain and which I couldn’t just toss in a dumpster.

Come on, Snowpuff.

Where are we going?

To see a friend.

For once, I bumped into Wren outside of a tunnel.

The lake in front of the Belvedere Castle in Central Park had frozen over, and skaters circled around the icy surface. Wren’s big Winter Solstice Celebration gala would happen here in just two nights, and there were already preparations underway for the private event.

I found Wren directing several glamoured sprites with her bright-yellow umbrella. She paused as soon as she saw me. “Melina Morgan. To what do I owe the honor of your visit? Or are you here to get a sneak preview of the gala?” She looked down briefly at my feet. “I see you’ve brought a friend. Hello.”

I like her, Snowpuff said.

Wren’s ability to see the wyrm wasn’t a surprise. Wren had presented herself as an entity who was neither mortal nor fae. I knew a good bit about fae but hardly all there was to learn. I knew even less about Wren’s abilities.

“Yes. This is Snowpuff. Snowpuff, this is Wren.”

There was a slight pause, and then Wren laughed like she’d just heard the funniest joke. “Quite right, quite right, but you have to forgive them in the end, don’t you?”

It took me a second to realize Wren was talking telepathically to Snowpuff.

“I’m sorry, I think I missed something,” I said.

Wren pointed her umbrella at Snowpuff. “That wyrm’s got a wicked sense of humor.”

I had experienced nothing to support that view, but I didn’t argue the point. “Well, at least you aren’t freaking out and shooting fireballs at her.”

Wren placed her hands atop the handle of her umbrella like it was a cane. “Let me guess. The members of House Vervain took exception to Snowpuff’s presence. I can’t blame them, Melina, and neither should you. Whiptail wyrms are generally to be avoided at all costs. Their reputation is well deserved.”

“But Snowpuff has only attacked in self-defense. And she just ran off a couple of trolls who tried to rob me. She’s done nothing to live up to that reputation.”

“Which makes her presence here all the more interesting. Tell me, Snowpuff, why are you here?”

Whatever the wyrm was saying took a long time. Wren interjected a few “ahs," “mmm-hmms,” and “I see’s” over the course of three minutes.

“Fascinating,” Wren said. “Melina, the fates seem intent on choosing the most deliciously interesting paths for you. I am extremely curious where this one will take you.”

What did you tell her, Snowpuff?

The truth. I found you, I healed you, and due to the effects of that interdimensional pocket, some of my soul was transferred to you. I’m simply watching over you out of my own self-interest to retrieve the remaining bits of my soul.

Somehow, I don’t think that’s all you told her.

Believe what you like, pet, believe what you like.

Wren looked down at the wyrm. “I’m going to blatantly attempt to bribe you. Having given you sufficient warning, may I proceed?” A pause. “Thank you. I would like to speak privately with your pet. If you would be gracious enough to grant me that, I promise to feed you on our return. I assure you, it will be worth the wait.” Another pause. Wren nodded. “Thank you.”

I’m going to chase some squirrels and try not to get too bored, Snowpuff told me and blinked out of view.

Wren opened her umbrella, though instead of just casting light, it created a bubble of warmth beneath it. “How’s your leg? Feel up to some more walking?”

“Better. And yes.”

We left the skaters and party preparations and headed off along a park path.

I pulled the troll’s blade from my coat pocket. “Any chance you could dispose of this?”

Wren clucked her tongue. “That’s a nasty piece of metal. How did it come to be in your possession?”

“Two trolls just tried to relieve me of my steward’s ring.”

“Clearly they were not successful.”

I smirked. “Snowpuff took extreme offense and chased them off.”

“Here,” Wren said. She handed me her umbrella and took the troll’s blade.

Wren held it between her palms, chanted a spell, and the blade vanished.

“There. It won’t bother anyone again.” She retrieved her umbrella. “Snowpuff tells me things are not going so well for you.”

“That would be an understatement. I’ve successfully self-sabotaged pretty much every effort I’ve made to improve things for House Vervain and the Manhattan fae. And I’ve ignored everyone’s advice about Snowpuff, which means the hobs are going to leave and Keg won’t be coming back.”

“That’s not exactly how Snowpuff put it. It’s also not what I’ve heard from other sources,” Wren replied. I glanced at her with a surprised look. “My sprites have eyes and ears all over Manhattan. My power may stop at the park’s border, but my awareness extends far beyond it. So, you’ve had a few hiccups during your first week as steward.”

“Hiccups? We’re talking about more than just hiccups. You know about that stupid truce deal with the gnomes, right?”

Wren nodded. “Of course. But blazing new trails is always difficult. It’s why so few choose to do it.”

I laughed. “The only trails I’m blazing are dead-end destinations of destruction.”

She grunted. “Which is usually how it feels in the beginning. You’ve left the safety and security of your known world behind. Everything is new, everything is confusing. You doubt your instincts. You become convinced you made the wrong choice. Only once you’ve discovered the reward at the end of the trail can you look back and see how far you’ve come.”

“Even if you’re right, I’m stuck with some unpleasant decisions. I don’t want to kill Snowpuff, and if she’s telling the truth about her soul, I don’t want to kick her out of the house. She told me she’ll die if she gets too far from me.”

“She’s correct about that.”

“If only I could give her back her soul, she could go home right now.”

“That’s what you think is going to happen?” Wren asked, her eyebrows inching higher. “Oh, my. She hasn’t told you yet.”

“What?”

“She’s trapped here. She can’t go back to the fae world even if she wanted to.”

My gut twisted up in panic.

What kind of life would she have in the mortal world? She couldn’t show herself to mortals any more than she could fae. She’d be constantly hiding. She’d never have the kind of home I’d been lucky enough to enjoy, much less the benefit of being surrounded by people who cared about you.

“No, she hadn’t told me,” I replied. “I guess that’s it, then. I have to leave House Vervain forever.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, come on. I just got through telling you what will happen if Snowpuff and I stay at House Vervain. How do I possibly have a choice?”

“You are challenging long-held beliefs everywhere you go. Truces with the Unseelie. Giving shelter to an entity known for being viciously bloodthirsty. Questioning the historical knowledge of those much older than you. Do you honestly expect to change their minds overnight?”

I hadn’t considered things from that perspective, though I could see Wren’s point. Adriana had said Adam never attempted a truce with Unseelie. The only interaction the Vervain stewards had apparently had with the Unseelie was to boot them off the island.

Snowpuff had never given me cause to be afraid. Had just saved my life, in fact, but the reputation of whiptail wyrms had driven the Vervain crew into a fearful frenzy, despite all the evidence to the contrary when it came to Snowpuff.

And I was expecting the fae to give Keg a pass because, in my view, he’d chosen the least-worst option when it came to the conairestone. I didn’t care about the faes’ long-held desire to keep the pathing stones to themselves.

“I guess I just figured everyone saw what I saw, Wren.”

“Remember how hard it was for you to reject what you’d been taught by your family? Embracing the reality you encountered here in Manhattan meant dismissing decades of indoctrination. But you did it. You overcame your own incorrect mindset. The others will, too, eventually.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Well, they certainly won’t if you stop trying.”

Wren might have had the ability to read minds. It kind of felt like she was referring to my idea of going back to Cold Creek—and it definitely felt like she wasn’t in favor of it.

“Melina, your predecessor chose you out of all the billions of people on this planet for a reason, and it was only partially due to your fae-given abilities. You are free to choose what to do, but from where I’m standing, I see nothing but blazed trails ahead for you. And the world will be a better place for it.”

I considered Wren’s words as we circled back to the lake.

“I hope you’ll stay at least long enough to enjoy the solstice celebration if you decide to leave,” Wren said.

“For sure,” I said, if for no other reason other than it might be my one and only opportunity to do so. “Thank you for listening and for your guidance.”

You’re finally back, pet.

Snowpuff appeared and leapt into my arms. I tucked her into the crook of my elbow, and I swear she began making little snoring sounds.

“Look,” I continued, “I know you believe I have some special calling or whatever, but I’m just a woman from a small southern town who’s wildly in over her head. I gave the steward thing a shot, but I’m clearly not cut out for it.”

“I politely disagree,” Wren said, her eyes lingering on Snowpuff. “You stood up to Renard and saved House Vervain. You survived three encounters with dearg elves. You protected the nexus from the mages, which means the Manhattan fae can continue living here for at least a while longer. All in all, I think you’re ignoring all the amazing accomplishments you’ve achieved.”

“I may have saved House Vervain only to watch it disintegrate under my watch. And I have a long way to go before I can harness the power of the nexus, according to Thomas. The Manhattan fae don’t have that kind of time if the TGB plan on breaking the truce and the Unseelie descend on the island. Even if I stayed, I couldn’t learn to use the nexus quickly enough to prevent an Unseelie invasion.”

“And your idea is to step aside and let someone else clean up the mess.”

“At least a mage could immediately start swinging around some magic. Thomas would be a great steward.”

“Thomas has no interest in being steward.”

“Well, that’s a shame,” I replied, curious how she knew that. “He’d be fantastic.”

“Hmm. I believe that’s a topic for a later time. But back to the matter of the nexus. The power flowing through it is immense. In time, you could harness it. You could wipe out every Unseelie who dares set foot in Manhattan. You could wipe out a lot of Unseelie, for that matter.”

She looked sideways at me as we walked, closely watching my reaction.

“First off, I’m not Renard. Second, I won’t trade one fae life for another. There’s got to be another way.”

Wren smiled and nodded, like I’d passed some test and she was happy with my choice. “Spoken like a true trailblazer.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Ihadn’t found inspiration in the bottom of a whisky bottle, and I was mistaken to think I could find it in the bottom of two cups of black coffee and three thick slices of sourdough toast. But I gave it a good try.

House Vervain smelled like pine needles, and the hobs had clearly been hard at work while I was gone. All evidence of the night’s fiasco had been erased. The holiday decorations had been fixed up and put back in place. The dining room looked spotless, as did the kitchen.

I felt guilty for bringing Snowpuff back inside, but I couldn’t order her away. And I needed to figure out my next move. The most obvious one was to leave the house for the time being. I still didn’t know what to do about Snowpuff’s exile, but I would deal with that later. One problem at a time.

I knocked on Adriana’s bedroom door. “Adriana? Are you there?”

She opened the door. “You returned.”

“Yes.”

“I was not entirely sure you would.”

“I’m not staying.”

She looked disappointed. “I feared as much. I understand.”

“No, I mean, I’m leaving because of Snowpuff. I can’t dismiss her, but I can’t keep dragging her into this house and making a mess of things for everyone. I’ll get a hotel room for now, and we can sort things out afterwards. I can’t bear the thought of the hobs or you or anyone else having to leave House Vervain.”

“I cannot argue with that, and I know the hobs will be delighted to know the wyrm will soon be gone. I also know they will be saddened by your absence, especially Pinter.”

“It’s late,” I said. “I was hoping I could stay just one more night. I’ll pack up and be out of here tomorrow.”

“I will convince the hobs to accept that. And we shall have a lovely breakfast in the morning before you go. I will cook.”

“You really don’t need to do that.”

“Please grant me this small gesture.”

I relented. “Sure. Eight o’clock in the kitchen?”

She smiled. “Perfect.”

Snowpuff was unusually quiet all night and the following morning. She hadn’t shown herself, either, though I was sure she was still hanging around close by.

I brought down my suitcase and left it in the front hall. The smell of something amazing from the kitchen filled the air.

“What in the world are you making?” I asked as I walked into the kitchen. Adriana was at the stove. Fynch was placing a platter of bacon on the table.

“Hey, Melina!” Fynch said. “We’ve got bacon, chocolate chip pancakes, sourdough toast, fresh coffee, fruit, and some pastry dish Adriana made.”

“It smells heavenly,” I replied and swiped a slice of bacon. It tasted even better than it smelled.

“How did you sleep?” Adriana asked.

“Well enough,” I replied. “You really didn’t have to go to all this trouble.”

Fynch grinned and glanced at Adriana. “You want to tell her?”

“No, you can have the pleasure,” the elf said.

“Check this out,” Fynch said dramatically. “Keg’s going to be here any minute.”

“What?” I almost choked on the bacon. Keg was coming back? It defied logic, but then again, I’d been living in logic-defying times lately. “He’s coming back?”

Fynch’s expression went from excited to panicked. “Oh, yeah, no. Just for breakfast and to grab some things he forgot. His parents won’t come near the house, but they agreed to let him make one final visit.”

My heart fell even farther after my misinterpretation. And I was torn by the news. Sure, I would love to see the dwarf again, but knowing it would be our last visit was crushing. All I could picture was me blubbering into my pancakes the whole time.

“Well, at least they were kind enough to grant him that.”

As if on cue, the front door opened. Keg appeared in the kitchen a few seconds later. “Hey.” His eyes swept the room but avoided mine.

Fynch made a beeline for his friend, and they gently fist bumped.

“Keg, I’m so sorry,” I said. I crossed the room and gave him a hug. I buried my face in his shoulder, and the tears started flowing.

“There, there, no need for that. I don’t blame you for any of this. It’s been a long time coming, but I can’t avoid it any longer.”

“No, I mean, yes, I’m sorry about that, but I was talking about how I ruined dinner last night. I thought we could change your parents’ minds, and everything seemed to be going so well. Then the whole thing with Snowpuff put a match to it all. If I had listened to your warnings, she and I wouldn’t have been there, and maybe it would have worked.”

The dwarf smirked. “You silly old round-eared mortal. You didn’t have a chance of changing their minds any more than Fynch has of giving up pizza. Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Well, yeah.”

“I told you, I’ve been a constant embarrassment to my family. As long as I was hanging out in this mage house and trapped in this world, they could more or less ignore my actions. Out of sight, out of mind. The conairestone forced them to deal with years of me embarrassing them. It was bound to happen eventually.”

I felt like I was reliving my earlier talk with Adam.

You aren’t to blame here, Melina, this was all preordained long before you got involved, don’t sweat it, yadda, yadda, yadda.

Like Adam’s assurances, Keg’s words softened the sting of my guilt but didn’t leave me feeling guiltless. “I appreciate it, Keg, but I’ll still feel better if you accept my apology.”

“In that case, consider it accepted.” Keg clapped his hands. “Now, what’s for breakfast?”

“Please tell me someone brought brioche buttons, because I could really use some right about now.”

We turned at the familiar voice.

“Thomas!” I said. I noticed the suitcase at his side but didn’t comment on it. I had this weird idea that if I mentioned it, I might jinx him from coming back. “Perfect timing!”

The consigliere said hello to Fynch and hugged me, Keg, and Adriana. He poured a cup of coffee while we finished setting the table.

Adriana said, “Sit, eat, and be at ease.”

I couldn’t be sure, but her eyes looked shinier than normal, and I felt the onset of more tears.

The phrase had become a regular part of the communal meals at House Vervain, though this time it felt extra special and extra sad. This would be the last time I’d hear it before sharing a meal with the entire Vervain crew.

And I probably imagined it, but the food tasted impossibly good. Adriana had outdone herself. Or maybe she’d used some of the seasonings from the market. I didn’t care.

Keg placed a tower of chocolate chip pancakes on his plate. “I thought last night’s dinner was a feast, but this is just as good.”

The dwarf seemed surprisingly at ease with things, though I suspected he was putting on a happy face to keep our last time together a fond one. I didn’t want to poke the hornets’ nest, but I had to find out.

“Keg, I’m pretty sure I know the answer to this, but what did your parents say after you all left?”

He grimaced. “It went about how you’d expect. The wyrm really threw them off. They couldn’t understand how we were all still alive, but the big thing for them was the danger the wyrm posed to me. Not that they needed any more convincing, but the fact that a mage house had let a whiptail inside its walls was just more proof that I shouldn’t be here.” He looked around the room. “Speaking of which, where is she?”

“Hiding, I’m sure,” I replied. “And keeping a very low profile until we leave.”

Keg’s fork paused midway to his mouth. Thomas and Fynch both looked up in surprise.

Having ripped off that bandage and gotten past the initial pain, I plunged forward. “I decided last night that I’d leave House Vervain until we could sort things out with Snowpuff. She hasn’t hurt anyone. I mean, she hasn’t hurt anyone here, but I know her presence is unsettling for you all. So, until she has her soul back, the two of us will live somewhere else.”

“But you’re coming back, right?” Fynch asked.

“That’s the plan,” I lied. Sort of. I had no plan for where Snowpuff could go if we parted. Maybe Wren? She’d seemed perfectly cool with the wyrm and hadn’t freaked out. I didn’t know how the sprites would handle it, but Wren could make that call. On the other hand, Wren hadn’t offered to give the wyrm a home, so maybe that wasn’t an option.

I wanted to come back to House Vervain, that’s for sure. I just wasn’t clear on whether I could, given my new wyrm companion.

“Hold up,” Fynch said. “What do you mean she hasn’t hurt anyone here?”

“Oh, right. A lot’s happened since dinner. I went for a walk last night, and two trolls tried to take my ring. Snowpuff protected me. She attacked the trolls and scared them off.”

“She refrained from killing them?” Adriana asked.

I shrugged. “All I know is, she could have easily killed them, but she didn’t.”

“Interesting,” the elf replied. Her eyes had drifted away, like she was furiously thinking about something.

Keg grunted. “And I wasn’t here to protect you.”

“You are not responsible for her safety any longer,” Adriana said.

“I’m still the Sentry of House Vervain,” the dwarf replied. “And as long as there’s breath in my body, I’ll still feel obligated to protect all those who call this their home.”

“That will be difficult going forward,” Adriana gently pointed out.

Keg stabbed at his pancakes in frustration, and the first crack in his happy façade appeared. “Hrmph.”

“What happened afterwards?” Adriana asked me.

“We went to the park to see Wren,” I continued. “She was super cool with Snowpuff, not even the least bit upset. In fact, the two of them had a private telepathic conversation. Anyway, that’s what happened to me after dinner.”

Adriana’s gaze swung back to me. “Wren talked with the wyrm?”

“As far as I could tell.”

“And she did not act threatened?” the elf asked.

“Have you ever seen Wren act threatened?”

Adriana chuckled. “No.”

That prompted a short exchange of everyone’s favorite Wren story. Adriana and Thomas had already confirmed I was one of the few non-sprite entities to be given access to Wren’s castle, which put me in some rarefied air. The stories also made it clear just how much the fae community held Wren in high regard and in no small amount of awe.

I got the impression the fae weren’t scared of Wren so much as they couldn’t figure out whether they should be. She remained a perpetual puzzle, even to those who had known her for centuries.

All I knew was she had been kind to me, had saved my life, and had seen Snowpuff the same way I saw her.

We had a leisurely breakfast that only stopped when there was literally no food left on the table. I think we were all unconsciously trying to make Keg’s final visit last as long as possible.

“Friends,” Keg said as he tossed his napkin on the table, “I’m afraid I must reluctantly take my leave. I’m spending my last day in Manhattan with my parents, then we’re taking a red-eye out of LaGuardia. My parents want to personally make sure I get to my uncle’s in Norway.”

The tears I’d been holding back flowed again, and I wasn’t the only one crying as we took turns saying goodbye.

“What about your guitars and your paintings?” I asked. “What about your brewing station?”

“Ah, well, you can imagine my parents aren’t too keen on my music and art. As for the brewing station, I was thinking maybe a certain imp might want to try his hand at it?”

Fynch’s eyes went wide, and the fiery pupils flared. “I’d be honored.”

Keg nodded. “Fynch, thank you for your friendship and for making it so easy for me to beat you at Turbo Turns.”

The imp laughed and did his best to hug his friend, which wound up with Fynch clinging to Keg’s beard. “I love you, too, buddy.”

The dwarf turned to Thomas. “You’re a mortal with a dwarf’s heart. It’s been a privilege to serve as Sentry for House Vervain.”

The consigliere gave Keg a short bow. “It’s been an honor to share the roof with a Grimlock.”

Keg stepped in front of the elf. “Lady Adriana, I hope you will one day return to the Seelie Court and be reunited with your family. Until then, please know I have treasured my time being part of the Vervain family.”

Adriana replied, “Hearth, forge, and family.”

Keg gave her a bow before turning to me. “Steward Morgan. I don’t know what your future holds, but I hope it includes many years under this roof. Every house needs a heart for it to become a home, and you are a most worthy heart.”

“Even for a round ear?” I asked.

He barked a laugh at that and hugged me. “Especially for a round ear.”

We walked him to the door and, after another round of hugs and well wishes, Kegster G. Grimlock left House Vervain forever. He may have only been four feet tall, but the hole he’d left in my life was larger than the Empire State Building.

Chapter Twenty-Five

“That’s that, then, I guess,” Fynch said, his voice steeped in sadness. “I’m going to the Rave Cave if anyone needs me.”

“Melina,” Thomas said, “may we have a word?”

Adriana shooed us all away. “Go. I will help the hobs in the kitchen and then see to Keg’s room.”

I followed Thomas to his office. He closed the door.

“Well, that can’t be good,” I joked.

He gave me a half smile. “That’s for me, not for you. I have some things I’d like to share just with you.”

“Okay, but that’s not any less foreboding.”

We sat, and Thomas fiddled with the stapler on his desk. I’d never seen him this nervous. He seemed to struggle with sharing whatever was on his mind, so I helped kick the conversation into gear.

“I’m thrilled you’re coming back, Thomas. I mean, you are coming back, right?”

“Yes. I’ve realized my time away from here wasn’t the salve I hoped it would be. If anything, it made things worse. And after how things ended last night at dinner, I realized I’ve been shirking some of my duties. That was not fair to you or the others. I want to correct that.”

Talk about timing. Here I was about to follow Keg out the door, and Thomas was suddenly all I’m in it to win it, let’s do this!

“I’m really glad to hear that, and I know the others will be, too. But you heard me earlier. I’m leaving for a while. What I didn’t want to say was I don’t know if I’ll be back. And I’m not sure parting ways with Snowpuff is a good idea. She’s had a difficult enough time as it is. Imagine her wandering the world alone. Any fae she comes across will freak out, as will any mortal. I think I’m the closest thing she has to family, and I can’t abandon her.”

Thomas returned the stapler to his desk and leaned back. He couldn’t resist the lure of his role as advisor to the house steward, and his old instincts kicked in. “Why can’t she return to the fae world? She could easily get there through the grove.”

“Snowpuff told Wren she’s stuck here. She hasn’t told me yet, but I see no reason for her to lie to Wren or for Wren to lie to me.”

“Can you summon her?”

“I’ve tried. She hasn’t responded. But I’ll try again.”

I spent a full minute telepathically calling out to Snowpuff before she finally responded.

In the name of the fae, would you please stop your squawking? she finally said.

A moment later, Snowpuff appeared in a corner of the office, staring daggers at me.

Thank you, Snowpuff. Thomas has—

I know, I know. Have you already forgotten I can’t be far from you?

Then you know what I’m going to ask.

Yes, it’s true. I can’t go home.

Why didn’t you tell me?

It’s none of your business, pet.

I swallowed my annoyance at that word. If you’re in trouble, I want to help. I can’t help if I don’t know that you’re in trouble.

I’m not in trouble.

I sighed. What will you do once your soul is complete? Where will you go?

I suspect I’ll travel the world. See the mortal sights. Perhaps scare a few squirrels along the way.

Her brave words didn’t have me fooled, and I was beginning to think her haughty attitude may have all been for show as well. I’m worried what will happen if you go off on your own. I’m worried you’ll be lonely.

Me? Lonely? What a pathetic idea! I need no one. I am a whiptail wyrm. We do not require companionship the way fae and mortals do.

All right, let’s look at this from a different angle. Wren and I are the only ones who aren’t scared of you, so if you strike off alone, you won’t be able to show yourself without setting off a panic. Does that really sound like the kind of life you want?

Snowpuff licked her claw. A life where I can do what I want when I want? Sounds quite appealing to me.

I gave up. “Thomas, she confirmed she’s stuck here, but she’s not interested in hanging around after she gets her soul back. I can’t seem to convince her that staying with me or, if Wren will have her, staying with Wren is best for everyone.”

He shrugged. “Perhaps she’s right. We know very little of the psychology of whiptail wyrms—”

Pompous mortal!

Snowpuff vanished.

“—and as a result, she may ultimately be happier on her own than feeling trapped with you or Wren.”

“It wouldn’t be a trap. It would be a home. Maybe not much of a family, but more than what she has now.”

“Melina, please consider that she may value independence over family. It’s not for you to say what will make her happiest.”

I scowled and looked away, my mind cranking on some kind of comeback to justify what I was now seeing as maybe, perhaps, sort of borderline meddling. Thomas had a point, and I couldn’t refute it. The fact that I was searching for an argument to continue trying to “save” Snowpuff underscored my commitment to butting into a situation I may not have a right to.

Kind of like butting my nose into the TGB situation, and I knew all too well how that had worked out.

“Once again, Thomas, I see why Adam selected you as his consigliere.”

Thomas stiffened at the name before relaxing again. “Thank you. And that actually brings us to the matter I wanted to discuss. But before I wade into those waters, please allow me to say that I truly hope your departure from House Vervain is brief. You’ve barely had time to settle in, much less get your arms around your new role. You can’t walk out now.”

“I don’t want to. I love it here. But I think I’m doing more harm than good.”

“Ah. You feel if you leave, everyone would be better off.”

I nodded. “Pretty much.”

“That is almost never the case, and it is absolutely not true in your case. I think together, we can achieve some wondrous things. Keg may have left, but even that’s not necessarily permanent. Snowpuff’s situation currently appears hopeless, but that can change faster than you think. However, if you truly feel the need to leave us, I will honor your wish. You should stay because you want to, not because you feel you must.”

I waggled my hand in the air. “Sometimes those are just two sides of the same coin. I want to stay because I feel I must. If I leave—”

“We will survive. We will find a way forward. I say this with love and admiration, but House Vervain is not doomed if you choose to leave. You already saved it. No one would criticize you for leaving now.”

Except me.

“Thanks. I appreciate that.” I did appreciate the compliment, even though I didn’t buy it to the degree he did. “So, what is it you wanted to tell me?”

Thomas sighed. “I’m not proud of this, but I found being in this house too painful for me after Adam’s death.”

“What are we going to do about him?” I asked.

“Steward Correia and I have been discussing options, but honestly, until Adam contacts us again with more information, there isn’t much we can do. You said he was unharmed and in no danger. I know of no way to resurrect him.”

“That’s why you had to leave?”

He nodded. “I was angry with Adam, and everyone and everything in this house reminded me of him.”

Oh. I hadn’t expected that, but I should have.

Being angry at someone you loved for dying? I knew that was a thing. As a kid, I’d had a basketful of conflicting feelings over my mom: sadness, anger, fear.

And some of my anger had been directed at Mom. Before I learned the truth—that she really had died from a rare virus and not been a victim of an Unseelie attack—part of me railed at her for not being better, stronger, and more prepared. She’d failed to survive the attack, and suddenly Dad and I were on our own.

The anger manifested in another way, too. With Mom gone, I was the only one left with the sight and the skill to ward off the fae. At seven years old, I was suddenly responsible for protecting not just myself but Dad, too.

Not long after that, fear set in. If Mom, who was decades older than me and way more experienced, couldn’t fend off the fae, how in the world could I be expected to survive?

I knew all about being angry at those you loved.

“I understand, Thomas, I really do. I felt the same way about my mom. For a while, anyway.”

His eyes brightened. “You did? Oh, I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you how glad I am to hear that. I’ve felt so guilty for being angry at Adam, and I was too embarrassed to talk about it.”

“And your embarrassment means you keep it all to yourself, but that just makes it worse.”

“Yes,” he said quietly. “Precisely.”

“I can’t tell you how to break the cycle, but I know it can be done. And while it may not feel great, being around others usually helps.”

He nodded. “That’s what I realized last night. Sitting alone in a hotel room was making things worse. That’s why I came back this morning. I want the comfort of Vervain more than I want to avoid the pain of Adam’s death. But I also want to be the consigliere that the house deserves. That you deserve. So, please, tell me where we stand with the Techgnome Bros.”

I gave him the full story, including my vision of Dexx and my feeling that he hadn’t broken the truce despite the evidence to the contrary.

“Dealing with the Unseelie can be difficult for mortals,” Thomas said. “The fae have different views on the world, ones that are natural consequences of their long lives and the unique nature of their home world. The Unseelie can be even more challenging, as their motives often appear even more unrelated to our own. But the key word is appear.”

“Exactly!” I replied. “I have this feeling Dexx isn’t trying to trick me. Heck, I don’t even think he’s trying to take over Manhattan. I think he truly just wants the same freedom the Seelie enjoy.”

It felt like Thomas—the old Thomas—was back, and not a moment too soon. He had a way of helping me sort through all the noise and get right to the meat of the matter. And his gentle confidence had a calming effect I was especially grateful for.

“Then your instincts about the truce were true. We need to uncover the cause for the discrepancy between your instincts and the attacks.”

Both these things can be true . . . Both these things can be true . . .

“Maybe that’s what’s going on with Snowpuff, too. Like, everyone else believes she’s a vicious killer, but for me, she’s a sweet, protective companion.”

Okay, maybe sweet was an exaggeration.

“Mmm. An interesting comparison, especially as you still have to decide what to do about the gnomes. Have you changed your position regarding a declaration of aggression?”

“I’m seriously considering it, if only to keep the Seelie from rebelling against House Vervain or going to war against the Unseelie. But I still believe the long-term effects of the declaration will be disastrous.”

Thomas nodded. “I concur.”

“You do?”

“Please don’t be upset, but as I said, I’ve been neglectful of my duties. I should have been guiding you better from the start. I should have been asking more questions and listening more. Given what you’ve told me, I think a declaration would be counterproductive.”

“But what do we do?” I asked. “If we don’t issue a declaration, what’s our response?”

“May I suggest another meeting?”

“Yeah, I’m not sure how open Dexx is going to be to that. He was pretty ticked off after the last one.”

Thomas smiled at that. “I’m sure. Still, which do you believe he’s more invested in: peacefully accessing Manhattan, or holding a personal grudge with you?”

“I mean, I think Manhattan.” Gnomes didn’t have the same reputation as dwarves did for holding on to grievances.

“Then go with that. Negotiating is infinitely easier when you’re trying to get the other party to agree to something they already want. I trust your instincts, and so should you.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Which should be more than sufficient, given your recent accomplishments.”

I aimed a thumb at his office door. “So, I take it the suitcase means you’re moving back in full-time?”

“Well, of course. You obviously need someone to remind you how incredible you are.”

Chapter Twenty-Six

“Hey, Adriana.” I peeked into the kitchen, which looked spotless. The hobs worked insanely quickly when they had to. “Got a second?”

“Of course.” The elf was sipping tea and reading a book.

“Hey, if you ever want to use the retreat, please do. It’s awesome for reading. You don’t need my permission.”

Adriana blinked in surprise. “That is most gracious of you.”

“What? Didn’t Adam let you use it?”

“As a matter of fact, that particular room has always been off limits to all but the stewards.”

“Well, it’s time to change that policy. Lucky for me, I’m the steward.” I snapped my fingers and adopted a dramatic voice. “The retreat is now officially open for anyone in House Vervain to use.” Adriana giggled. “Yeah, you know, that was a lot more impressive in my head.”

“It was plenty impressive, Steward Morgan. Your hospitality continues to know no bounds.”

I sat next to her. “Now that I’ve got you all buttered up, I’ve come to ask a favor.”

“Oh? How may I help?”

“I’ve been talking with Thomas, and we both agree the whole TGB thing might still be salvageable. But I’ll need to sit down with Dexx and hash things out to learn if that’s true.”

“And I come into this scenario how?” Adriana asked.

“I’d prefer not going alone, but Keg’s gone. Fynch is far too eager to fling fireballs. And Thomas is a mortal—plus, he’s has never met with Dexx. You’re a fae, and a familiar one at that. Would you please accompany me?”

The elf’s mouth turned down. “I am not convinced that is the best course of action. And I presume Snowpuff is still nearby?”

“She’s around somewhere. Look, I understand you believe the declaration of aggression is the best course. But I can always issue it if this last-ditch effort fails. Would you please help me this one last time?”

“And if the TGB do more than vandalize a store in the meantime? If they harm another fae like they did Glimmer?” Her tone wasn’t accusatory, but I caught her concern.

“I’m not looking to add to my long list of guilt-infused failures.”

Adriana sipped her tea. “I know. That is precisely what worries me. I see how much you have already shouldered, Melina. Every additional attack will be another burden for you to bear. The declaration would stem the tide and give the TGB pause.”

Wait, what?

Adriana had pushed for the declaration—at least in part—out of concern for me? All that time she was being frosty with me, the elf still worried about me. But my feelings weren’t part of this equation.

“I fear it will trigger a war between the fae,” I said.

“A war will surely come if the attacks do not stop,” Adriana countered. “I am sorry you were thrust into the steward’s role without the benefit of preparation and training. Much has been asked of you in a short period of time. Nevertheless, wearing the ring and crown comes with the responsibility for making difficult decisions. This is one of them.”

She had no argument from me on any of that. I knew from the beginning I was woefully unprepared for the role, and if my heart would have let me leave the Manhattan fae to their fates, I’d have run right back to Cold Creek and left House Vervain far behind.

Obviously, I couldn’t do that, so I became the steward, miraculously saved the mage house, and bought some time for the local Seelie fae. While that victory was nothing to sneeze at, my initial success was just the beginning.

I’d had some vague idea that if I preserved the mage house, everything else would pretty much take care of itself. I had four members of the Vervain family to lean on. Surely they would handle business until I was up to speed, right?

Not so much, as it turned out.

Adriana and Thomas had voiced their opinions but made it clear they could not or would not make the decision for me. Normally, I didn’t like being told what to do. In this case, I would have gladly offloaded the decision-making. But that wasn’t an option.

“I’m sorry, Adriana. I think the declaration will cause more harm long term.”

“Very well. I will accompany you.”

“You will? Thank you. That means a lot.”

“Do not thank me. I fear we will be walking into the dragon’s den, and we may not walk out. But if my final act as Claviger of House Vervain is supporting you, I will be happy for it.”

I appreciated the sentiment, though I could have used a bit more optimism.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Thomas worked on setting up a meeting for over an hour. Dexx was being more than a little reluctant about another face-to-face, but the consigliere eventually persuaded him.

The location was a bar named The Margin Call, which Thomas said was owned by the TGB. I portaled Adriana and myself just inside Brooklyn, which meant a long walk to the bar but hopefully wouldn’t trigger the gnomes.

I was beginning to get the hang of portaling into places I’d never seen before. Opening up a mystical gate was easier the more familiar you were with the place. I could create a portal to my kitchen with my eyes closed. Literally.

Going somewhere new, however, required more time and preparation. Luckily, the ability to portal came with a kind of mental GPS. I could summon up a map of the world in my head and zoom in on where I wanted the portal to go. Maintaining my concentration while zeroing in on the location was the hardest part.

Cities had all kinds of nooks and crannies where you could step through a portal without drawing lots of attention. I’d found lots of little corners tucked out of the way in the metro stations, dead-end alleys, and more. Apparently, empty restaurant restrooms were great, too, because you could just walk right out. As long as you were dressed appropriately, no one was going to question you.

That day, I chose an alley near the riverside. Adriana and I stepped through, and I closed the portal. We headed towards the bar.

The snow had turned slushy in parts of the streets, and cars shushed their way past us. It was only the 19th of December, so most people were still working. The city had its usual weekday vibe of frenetic energy, probably amped up by the approaching holidays.

“I am curious how you plan on dealing with Dexx,” Adriana said. “Your last conversation was not particularly effective. Do you have some new approach in mind?”

“Thomas said I had good instincts.” I shrugged. “I’ll figure it out once we’re in the same room.”

“I will not sugarcoat my feelings. I had hoped for something more substantial than I will follow my gut.”

I chuckled at her reply. “Well, it’s the best I’ve got. You thinking of changing your mind?”

The elf shook her head. “Thomas is extremely astute. I suggest you follow his advice.”

“Thanks.”

“On an unrelated note, did you say Wren acted friendly towards the wyrm?”

“Yeah, I’d say so. She didn’t appear bothered in the least, and like I said, they had a private telepathic conversation. Snowpuff made Wren laugh. I guess I’d call that friendly. Why?”

“I have found Wren to also be extremely astute.”

Was it possible Adriana was changing her mind about Snowpuff? I tamped down my excitement and let the matter go, for fear of jinxing it.

The Margin Call was, based on the outer decor, a very swanky bar. It was also, based on the sign in the door, closed.

“Knock?” Adriana asked.

“Knock,” I replied, and I did. I saw motion inside, and a gnome unlocked the door and let us in.

“Dexx is in the private room,” the gnome said, and nodded towards a back corner.

The bar was all dark wood and brass and had an old-school Hollywood feel to it. The bar itself was massive. Hundreds of bottles of alcohol lined the shelves behind it, and stemware hung from racks mounted to the ceiling. Much fancier than the kinds of watering holes I was used to back in Cold Creek, that’s for sure.

We followed the gnome across a thick, dark-green carpet and through an arched doorway that led to a short hall. The gnome knocked three times on the wooden door at the end of the hall before opening it.

“Boss, the Vervain steward and the elf are back.”

Dexx was sitting at a large table with half a dozen other TGB around him. Hodl sat next to his boss. Dexx waved us in.

“Your mage was quite persistent about setting up this meeting,” Dexx said.

“Thomas?” I replied. “Oh, I guess he can be quite persuasive when he wants to be.”

Dexx rolled his eyes. “Persistent pestering to the point of intolerably annoying is more like it. Look, it was easier to say yes to a meeting than keep having to deal with his calls. So, say whatever it is you have to say and get out.”

“I’ll be brief,” I said. “Despite the setbacks in our truce, I’m still willing to uphold my end.”

The gnome smirked. “Given how we’ve upheld our end, that’s awfully nice of you.”

I spread my hands. “All I know is attacks continued to happen after our first meeting. And some of the evidence I’ve seen indicates the TGB were involved. You say you didn’t authorize any attacks. These two statements can both be true.”

That was a curveball Dexx had not been expecting, based on his slack-jawed expression. “What exactly are you saying?”

“I’m saying there can be more than one way to look at a problem. My instincts are telling me you aren’t lying. Yet, my senses are telling me the TGB made at least two attacks after we declared a truce. I’m here in the hopes you and I can sort this out together and restore some peace.”

Hodl leaned over and whispered something to Dexx. The boss held up a hand and interrupted the gnome.

“How in the world do you propose we do that?” Dexx asked me.

“I honestly have no idea. But I think it begins with you and me having a conversation instead of avoiding each other. I believe you still want access to the island, and I’m still willing to grant you safe passage if the attacks stop.”

“Or what?” Dexx asked.

This was the moment I’d been dreading. The gnome was trying to get me to commit to a future action, and he was doing it in front of some of his gang members. Whatever I said, it couldn’t be a bluff. I tried to dodge the direct question.

“Or the Manhattan fae may no longer be content to stay in Manhattan.” I looked around the bar. “This place is incredible. When was the last time a Seelie fae stepped inside?”

“Today,” Hodl replied with a sneer, and flicked his gaze at Adriana. “And it’ll be the last time, too, as long as blood is still pumping in my veins.”

Dexx patted the gnome’s arm, which silenced Hodl but did nothing about his sneer. “Steward Morgan, you are without a doubt not what I expected. And because you have piqued my curiosity, I’m inclined to indulge you with some chitchat. Where would you like to start?”

Phew.

This was progress. Adriana and I were still alive, and Dexx was still talking to us. Some days, that’s where the bar was set.

“How about I invite some Seelie to join me here one night? Sort of a get-to-know-you social thing.”

Adriana’s head turned towards me, and she seemed as horrified as Dexx was intrigued. “Steward Morgan, I am not sure how that will be received by the Seelie community.”

“Neither am I, and we won’t know until we ask them. But the ball’s still in Dexx’s court.” I looked at the gnome. “What do you say? Are you brave enough to show the Seelie that the TGB won’t let tradition dictate its future?”

Dexx took a drink from his glass. “Don’t try to manipulate me, mortal. You haven’t won me over yet.”

Hodl said, “Boss, you can’t seriously be entertaining this, right? I mean, we could own the streets of Manhattan if we wanted to. And inviting a Seelie in here? Why bother?”

Dexx turned a weary face to the gnome. “Because I’m tired of pointless violence, that’s why. I want to enjoy Manhattan without having to hide and sneak around. Don’t you?”

Hodl’s face flushed, and he literally jumped up on the table. “I want to take what’s ours, and I don’t want to have to beg for it!” The gnome ran down the table and stopped in front of me. “And you and your kind can’t do anything to stop us!” He jabbed a finger into my chest, and I was no longer in The Margin Call.

I was in the WFS Bakery, watching Hodl take a baseball bat to the equipment. He whooped as the other TGB gnomes sliced through bags of flour and covered the place in the powdery mix. They tossed plates and bowls on the ground, pulled over racks of pans, and gleefully destroyed anything that was breakable.

I was back in the private bar room and caught the tail end of Hodl’s rant.

“—you’re going to just roll over and do what she asks, boss?”

Dexx had gotten to his feet. “Hodl, that’s quite enough. I’m still the boss of this gang.”

“We’ll see about that.” A blade appeared in Hodl’s hand, and I felt the cold pressure of the metal against my neck. Half the gnomes in the room also suddenly had weapons in their hands. “I’ll dispatch this mortal for you, Dexx, and we won’t have to worry about a truce.”

“It was you,” I said. “You led the attacks, Hodl.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

I listed off the days and times of the attacks. “Where were you when the fae stores were vandalized, Hodl?”

“I don’t owe you any fealty, mortal.”

“Answer the question, Hodl,” Dexx said.

“Boss, I don’t know anything about any attacks after the truce. You said to stay out of Manhattan, and I did.”

“You’ve been taking care of a lot of personal business lately. And you weren’t with me during the attacks. Swear to me you didn’t break the truce.”

I swallowed, which is never a great idea when you have a knife at your throat. Adriana hadn’t taken her eyes off the blade, and a dark expression shadowed her face. She looked ready to tear Hodl apart with her bare hands.

“Boss, come on, you can’t possibly believe her.”

“That’s not an answer.” Dexx wasn’t buying Hodl’s objections, and I think the gnome realized it, too.

“Okay, boys, guess we’re going to bury a couple more bodies today.” The two gnomes on either side of Dexx had him pinned between their weapons. Another held a wicked vorpal blade to his companion’s face. Of the seven gnomes in the room, five were apparently on Team Hodl. “I tried to warn you, boss, but you lost your appetite to fight.”

“I lost my desire for violence. There’s a difference. But if you don’t put down those blades, you’re about to learn quickly my appetite can return.”

We’re going to die. We’re going to die right here in the middle of a gnome mutiny, and I’m never going to taste another brioche button again.

Hodl said, “You got weak, boss, and we can’t afford weakness. We’re the Techgnome Bros, and we don’t answer to anyone!”

“You still answer to me,” Dexx replied. “Release the mortal.”

“Or what? Who’s going to stop me?”

I will.

Snowpuff?

The wyrm appeared next to Hodl. Her tail looped around the hand holding the knife, and her wings wrapped around the gnome’s neck. Her mouth opened impossibly wide. I’m talking some physics-bending stuff.

All the warnings I’d been given flooded back into my head, and I feared my instincts to trust the whiptail wyrm had put me in danger. Put all of us in danger. Once again, I’d ignored the advice from those around me, and look what happened.

Take it easy, Snowpuff.

The wyrm’s enormous mouth descended on Hodl, and then there was no more Hodl. Before I could try calming her down again, Snowpuff launched herself at the gnomes on either side of Dexx and attacked them in a white blur of motion.

All I’d wanted was to stop the bloodshed, stop the fighting. I wanted to create a haven for all fae. Instead, I had literally brought a mindless killing machine to what was supposed to be a peace treaty negotiation.

Stop, Snowpuff!

The kitten-dragon hissed and turned in a circle, looking for another target. The remaining Hodl sympathizer dropped his weapon and held up his hands. Much to my relief, the other two lackeys did the same. Snowpuff had simply disarmed them.

“We give up!” one of Hodl’s gnomes said.

Snowpuff looked around the room one more time. I hoped she was done.

She wasn’t.

Snowpuff’s back hunched, and she made several gagging sounds like a cat coughing up a furball. Well, in this case, a slime covered Hodl. The gnome tumbled onto the table and blinked in confusion.

You didn’t kill them.

Of course not. I’m not some mindless killing machine.

Snowpuff returned to her former size and leapt at me. I instinctively caught her in my arms, and she began preening herself.

Apologies for the mess, pet.

Um. Right. Yeah, no worries. No apologies necessary.

Dexx hadn’t moved a muscle during the brief fight. His eyes were wide and locked on Snowpuff. “Steward Morgan, that truce is still on the table, right?”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“And then Dexx looked up and said, ‘Steward Morgan, that truce is still on the table, right?’”

Thomas and Fynch cracked up at the conclusion of Adriana’s recounting of our meeting. We were in the House Vervain kitchen, enjoying leftovers.

The consigliere was back to his old self, and the shadow of Keg’s departure had lightened a fraction.

Adriana had once commented on the kitchen being the heart of the house. House Vervain’s heart was hurting, but it was still beating.

Another point in the Win column was the Techgnome Bros. Once Hodl’s defection had been revealed, calming the waters with Dexx had not only been a piece of cake, I think I’d earned a ton of trust from him. He was super excited about hosting an event at The Margin Call and inviting some Manhattan fae.

Bringing the Manhattan fae around would be harder. Hodl’s defection was mostly met with indifference.

Oh, an Unseelie secretly broke a truce? I’m shocked to my core to hear that! How surprising!

Provided Dexx was able to keep the rest of his crew adhering to the truce, I was hopeful we could eventually bring the Seelie around.

Would the truce last? Would other Unseelie around Manhattan follow suit? I had no idea. But I was feeling better than I had in days.

Thomas lifted his glass of wine. “A toast to our fearless steward!” The others joined in, and I tried not to be too embarrassed by the attention. Thomas winked at me and asked, “So, what’s next, Melina? You have a plan to strike a peace deal between the Seelie and Unseelie?”

“Ha! Not quite. But I do have a plan for getting Keg back.”

“No way,” Fynch said. “What is it?”

I laid out my idea about invoking sanctuary with the Grimlocks. Perhaps not surprisingly, they were far less enthusiastic about it than I was.

“Absolutely not,” Adriana said. “You are literally risking your life.”

“Really?” I replied. “I mean, before I met the Grimlocks, I might have said yes. Sure, they’re as cozy as a cactus, but they’re hardly monsters.”

“They do not have to be monsters to make the rest of your life a living nightmare. My home world is not healthy for mortals. If they took you there, you would soon learn just how mistaken you are about the risks.”

The imp nodded. “Adriana’s right. Besides, it’s not like Keg is going someplace horrible. He’ll be with family.”

“But he doesn’t want to go, and he shouldn’t have to,” I countered. “He might be with family, but he won’t be happy. If there’s a chance we can get him back here, shouldn’t we try? Don’t we owe it to him?”

Adriana had no immediate response. Thomas slowly spun his wine glass in thought.

“If we’re going to try this, let me do it,” Fynch said. “He’s my best friend, after all.”

“No,” Thomas said. “It needs to be Melina.”

The other two looked at him in surprise.

“You cannot mean that,” Adriana replied.

“Oh, but I do. A few days ago, perhaps not. Now? I believe Melina’s instincts are one of her many strengths. I mean, look at what she’s accomplished in just a few days. Is now really the time for us to start questioning her?”

“He’s got a point,” the imp said to Adriana.

“I do not disagree on any particular issue,” she said, “though I still feel this is an unnecessarily risky endeavor.”

“I believe Melina is quite aware of the risk she’s taking,” Thomas gently replied.

Adriana considered the matter before replying, “Very well. You are, after all, the consigliere.”

Thomas smiled. “I simply offer my thoughts. But it’s ultimately Melina’s call. What do you say, steward?”

“Where are the Grimlocks right now?”

I texted Keg and learned he and his parents were at LaGuardia waiting for their flight to board. Better yet, they were flying first class and currently at an airline lounge. I portaled into an empty bathroom and tracked them down within seconds.

They were glamoured as mortals and sitting in a corner by themselves. A few people in the lounge could see us, but they wouldn’t hear us if I kept my voice low enough.

“Before you say anything,” I said, “please allow me to apologize one more time for the unfortunate incident last night.”

“Melina, what are you doing here?” Keg asked.

“You are trying my patience—” Nanda began before ending her sentence with a squeak. The three dwarves stared in wide-eyed horror at the wrym in my arms.

I have told the Grimlocks that it’s my wish for them to let you say your piece, pet. I suggest you take advantage of the situation before they decide to flee.

Thank you.

“First off, this whole business with the conairestone is all my fault. Kegster only gave it to me because he felt compelled by his oath as the Sentry of House Vervain to protect me. My actions forced him to do what he felt was necessary to uphold his promise. And you have to know he felt torn between his fae obligations and his Vervain obligations. I’m the one who forced him into that situation. Dwarves are revered for their commitment to their oaths, and Kegster did not shirk his.”

You’re off to a great start, pet.

“Furthermore, there is no law against bonding a conairestone to a mortal. And may I add that if Kegster had not given me the pathing stone, Fynch would have almost certainly died at the hands of two dearg. Surely King Oberon and Queen Aine would not object to the use of a stone to save the life of a fae. But even if they did, as Kegster’s parents, you shouldn’t.”

Nanda opened her mouth and immediately closed it when Snowpuff flexed her wings. The dwarf took the hint and remained silent.

“And while we’re on that topic, shame on you both for not seeing how much joy your son gets from art and music. I don’t care if you’re a mortal parent or a fae parent. You should always support your children. The world is doing just fine when it comes to stomping on dreams and happiness. Don’t you dare do the same.”

You’re on a roll, pet.

“And one more thing. All of the research I’ve done on dwarven culture makes it clear how much you value family. You know Kegster can’t go back to the fae world, yet you ripped him from the closest thing he has to a family and a happy home in this world. Do you really think he’ll be happy now? Isn’t his happiness important to you? Family is all about being wrapped in love and support. Can’t you see you’re doing the opposite by making him leave House Vervain?”

Keg cleared his throat. “Melina, I appreciate what you’re doing, I really do. But I’ve agreed to go.”

“Even though you’d rather stay.”

“Well, yes. But this is my commitment to my family.”

“Allow me to show your parents what true family commitment is.” I addressed the Grimlocks. “I, Melina Morgan, formally request sanctuary from the Grimlock family for my past deeds and pledge fealty to you forever if you find it in your hearts to graciously extend your beneficence. My transgressions caused your son to fall out of favor with the Seelie court, and I bear responsibility for the blemish on your good family’s name.”

Not the exact translation from the dwarven texts I’d found, but close enough.

The weight of my words hit home, and Keg jumped to his feet. “No! Melina doesn’t know what she’s saying. Father, mother, you must not—”

Belin raised a hand. Keg sat. Nanda seemed surprised and elated by the request.

Belin ran a hand down his beard and looked at me with what I’d call sympathy. “Mortal, you are treading on dangerous ground, whether you realize it or not. And since you are not dwarven, we have no obligation to entertain your request.”

“I understand,” I said.

“You have said much about our culture, and you presume to use it as a weapon against us. That is a very mortal thing to do.”

“With respect, I thought to use it as a shield to protect my friend.”

Belin grunted. “Still. Do you understand that if we accept your request, you will forever be beholden to our every wish? We could make you our servant forever. We could sentence you to a life of dreary existence. We could rip you forever from the world you know.”

I won’t let that happen, pet.

I stifled a laugh at the silent message. I doubted the Grimlocks would see the humor.

“I do. But I think I have the measure of Kegster’s character. He has a strong sense of justice, and he could only have inherited that from his parents.”

Oh, that was brilliant, pet! Well done!

Belin’s mouth turned upwards. “For a mortal, you certainly have a fae way with words.”

“I believe what my husband is trying to say is we will deign to accept your offer,” Nanda said. “You are now ours, and we will show you true justice.”

Snowpuff yawned and stretched. Shall I eat them now?

I gulped and silently accepted my fate. Perhaps my instincts had failed me after all, and now both Keg and I were lost. I mean, me more so than him. He was off to live with his uncle. I was off to who knew where.

I briefly considered portaling out of there, but that would nullify the sanctuary pact and put Keg right back in exile from House Vervain. No, I’d given my word, and I would stick to it like a dwarf.

“And I believe,” Belin said, “what my wife is trying to say is that we will show you we are dwarves who strongly believe in family and in justice. To that end, we reject your request—”

“Belin!” Nanda exclaimed.

“—because we do not need a constant reminder of our failure to see what’s best for our son.” Belin turned to Keg. “If it’s your wish to remain in House Vervain, we will not forbid it. It is my hope you will continue our tradition of brewing, but I will not demand it.”

Nanda tossed up her hands in a gesture of flustered emotions. “We shall discuss this further, Belin.”

Belin replied, “Of course, and we will. But I am no longer prepared to force Keg to leave. I think it best if he stays at House Vervain for now. Will you agree to that?”

Keg’s mother frowned. “Kegster, will you truly be happier with the mortals and fae at the mage house than with your own family?”

“House Vervain is also my family, mother. And, yes, I’ll be happier than anywhere else.”

Nanda sighed and pulled him into a hug. “Then go, my son, and may your heart be light.”

Adriana was still in the kitchen.

“Look who I found wandering around LaGuardia,” I said.

The elf grinned at the sight of the dwarf. “Keg!” She hugged him. “Welcome home.”

“Thank you.” He hefted his bag. “Is Fynch in the Rave Cave?”

“Yes. He will be thrilled to see you. Thomas is upstairs in his room.”

“Great,” Keg replied and headed out of the room.

“Well, you did it, Melina,” Adriana said. “I want to know all the details.”

“It wasn’t anything that special.” I checked the time. “But hey, I promised I’d leave House Vervain until I sorted out things with Snowpuff.”

“Yes, about that. I have reconsidered my request.”

“You have? What changed your mind?”

The elf waved a hand. “Several factors, I suppose, though seeing Snowpuff protect you was a big one. And I had a chat with Wren.”

“She tried to convince you to let Snowpuff stay?”

Adriana shook her head. “I respect Wren a great deal, and while I would likely be hard pressed to deny any request from her, she did not presume to tell me what to do. Call it more of an enlightenment, with which I was free to do as I saw fit.”

“So, we can stay? What about the hobs?”

She nodded. “For the time being, Snowpuff is welcome under this roof. I have discussed the matter with the hobs, and they were most impressed with Snowpuff’s actions to protect you. Now, you will still have to get Fynch to agree to it and keep the two of them from making a mess, but if Snowpuff behaves, I’ll proudly remain the claviger.”

Good, Snowpuff said. I don’t like the taste of elf, anyway.

Epilogue

Iknocked on Thomas’s open bedroom door.

“Melina. Did you work out things with Keg?”

“I did. He’s downstairs gaming with Fynch.”

Thomas smiled. “I knew you could do it.”

“I wasn’t nearly so sure, but I guess it all worked out in the end.”

“All perhaps except for you. Are you still leaving?”

“Nope. Adriana and I worked it out. I think Wren convinced her that Snowpuff isn’t a threat.”

His smile widened. “I’m relieved to hear that.”

“Me, too.” I nodded at the stairs. “So, there’s something I want to show you downstairs. Kind of an urgent thing.”

Thomas gave me a confused look. “Is everything all right?”

“I think it will be.”

He followed me down to the library. Adam’s ghostly figure was pacing above the floor. “Thomas. It’s good to see you.”

I swear the ghost’s eyes were getting watery, and after all, was there some rule about ghosts not being able to cry?

“Adam,” Thomas replied, his voice cracking. “I . . . It’s good to see you, too.”

Thomas seemed stuck in place. I nudged him until he began crossing the room.

“I’ll just let you two have some privacy,” I said as I closed the door behind me.

Fae & Fates, the next and final installment in the Manhattan Magic series, will launch later this year!

About the Author

Scott Walker adamantly believes pizza is a food group, Han shot first, and Serenity is still flying somewhere out in the 'verse. Over the years, he's designed, crafted, and shared storytelling across a variety of experiences, including collaborative world building, tabletop gaming, and live-action role-playing. While Scott's imagination takes him to lands of mystery and wonder, he always returns to his hometown of Los Angeles. At least, he's pretty sure it's Los Angeles.

https://scottiswriting.com

Acknowledgments

I’m exceedingly grateful to Shavonne Clark at Motif Edits, who not only provided input on my outline but handled the line editing for this novel as well!

RITUALS & RECIPES

© 2024 Scott Walker

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without the written permission of the author, except where permitted by law.

All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

Published by Firefly Tales, LLC

Book Cover Design by MiblArt

ISBN: 978-1-956757-14-9