Chapter 10

As promised, Gunther drove me as deep into Wild Acres as his sporty car could squeeze, ignoring the ‘no vehicles beyond this point' sign. He pulled to a stop when the trees grew too crowded to continue.

"You sure you're okay going alone? Maybe come back with Claude. Stick him in your pocket where they won't see him."

"I'll be fine." ‘Alone' was my default mode. From a young age, it had been seared into my brain that I was a danger to myself and those around me. I had an obligation to avoid entanglements and keep others safe—except the longer I lived in Fairhaven, the less sure I was of the necessity. Gun and Camryn were skilled mages. Professional killers. They could hold their own. Kane was a feared and mighty demon; he didn't require protection from me—and even if he did, he'd made it clear he thought I was worth the risk.

As much as Pops loved me, he'd convinced me that the only life I could live was one of secrets and survival. My time in Fairhaven now had me questioning that belief.

I thanked Gun and exited the car. The forest made the usual noises—scampering, rustling, singing. Their familiarity put me at ease. I'd spent most of my childhood in the woods, either survival training with Pops or playing on my own. I felt protected by the army of trees, despite the looming threats. Pops used to warn me that Mother Nature was neutral and not to depend on her, but I couldn't help myself. I'd wanted so badly to believe there was a force greater than us looking out for me. Ironic, considering that was how people viewed their gods.

After my visit with the Fates in New York City, I realized I hadn't been entirely wrong. It wasn't Mother Nature, however, but an unknown entity that had hidden my existence with the invisible mark. It wasn't as cool as Harry Potter's lightning bolt scar, but I'd take it. The attempt to hide me meant that some higher power cared if I lived or died.

That all these years, I hadn't truly been alone.

I followed Gun's instructions and turned right at the copse of silver birches. The mightiest oak tree in Wild Acres was even larger than its two cousins that flanked the crossroads. The base spanned the ground like a giant claw, its network of visible roots gripping the earth with a ferocious intensity. Its branches spread high and wide, a desperate reach for the heavens. A low-lying cloud hovered above the treetops, within sight but not within reach. The scene reminded me of Michelangelo's famous frescoes on the Sistine Chapel ceiling—the finger of God stretched toward Adam's. In this moment, I understood why certain cultures believed that trees served as the bridge to both the underworlds and the heavens.

I skirted the wide trunk until I located the notch. I pressed it and uttered the secret code, hoping it hadn't changed. The brown bark darkened to a black doorway. I couldn't decide whether to be relieved or unnerved.

I ducked and entered through the hollow. I wasn't sure what I expected to see, but it wasn't a spiral staircase carved into the earth.

I crept carefully, turning each foot slightly sideways as I maneuvered down the narrow steps. I counted one hundred steps before I abandoned the computation.

Two ripped figures awaited me at the bottom, one bald and one that seemed to be clinging to his remaining strands of hair with sheer willpower. Both trolls.

There were trolls right under my nose in Fairhaven. Who knew? Based on their menacing demeanors, bulbous noses, and larger sizes, they were j?tunn rather than the smaller trolls known as huldrefolk.

My curiosity was piqued. Why have surly bouncers on top of a secret password-protected entrance?

I greeted them with a ready smile.

"Do you have a chip?" the bald one growled.

"On my shoulder? Absolutely."

They exchanged looks. "You need a chip to enter," the other one said.

Gun hadn't mentioned a chip. "I used the secret password. I don't know anything about a chip."

"It's a recent addition. An extra security measure," the other one said. He seemed a smidge more agreeable than his partner, probably because he still had hair.

"You can't enter without one," the grouchy troll added.

"Fine. Where can I get my hands on a chip?"

"No chip, no entry," said the grump, and pointed to the staircase behind me.

"Take me to Madame Thea," I said. "I'll sign whatever documents you put in front of me."

"Madame Thea sees people by appointment only."

"Then make me an appointment. Now."

He glowered at me beneath a tangle of wiry eyebrows. "Why should we?"

"Because I have important information that impacts all of you."

"We'll be the judge of that. Tell us what it is, and we'll decide whether Madame Thea needs to know."

I pushed down my exasperation and played along. "Have you heard of the Wild Hunt?"

"Of course," Baldie said. "Everybody has."

"Well, it's coming to this forest very soon. You might want to take precautions."

They fell silent for a moment, before erupting into fits of laughter.

"Even if it's true, why should we care what happens topside?" the bald troll asked. "We only emerge after sundown, and they only hunt during daylight."

I cocked my head. "Sounds like somebody needs to brush up on their lore. You're far more likely to encounter the spectral horde after nightfall."

The trolls appeared to digest that nugget of intel.

"We'll pass that along to Madame Thea," the second troll finally said.

"Wait. There's more," I continued quickly, "but I need to speak with her directly." I held up my hands. "I carry no weapons." No visible ones, anyway.

"Let her in, fellas," a disembodied voice said.

A small device attached to the bald troll's belt appeared to be the source of the sound.

"Copy that," he replied. "This way."

"My name is Lorelei Clay," I told them.

"We don't care," the grump said, without bothering to look at me. I'd named him aptly.

We walked along a dimly lit corridor, passing a cavernous room with a spinning roulette wheel and card tables. A scantily clad woman draped herself along the doorframe of the next room. Humanlike but not human. Her gaze raked over as we passed.

"New hire?" she cooed.

"Visitor," the second troll said.

She winked at me. "Hey, sweetness. Come see me when you're done paying your respects to Madame Thea. The name's Cynthia."

The second troll twisted toward her. "If she doesn't, I will."

"You know that's forbidden, Percy." Cynthia's delicate laughter followed us down the darkened corridor.

The third room housed a large bar lined with patrons. My first thought was whether Kane knew his club had competition. I highly doubted Madame Thea had bothered to obtain a liquor license.

We turned down an offshoot and the back of my neck prickled. Nothing stood out to me until we reached what appeared to be Madame Thea's office. The moment I crossed the threshold, I recognized it as the vision from Camryn's house, the one the card had shown me. It was far more lived-in than the vision had revealed, but the feeling I had now was the same one I'd experienced then. The speakeasy was definitely what the Tower card wanted to show me.

I expected to see another j?tunn pulling strings behind the proverbial curtain, but the owner of One Oak was far too small and dainty to belong to that particular group of trolls. Her slender body was clad in a shiny black cocktail dress. A sparkling diamond dotted each delicate earlobe. Her hair shimmered like an amethyst, styled in a French twist.

"You're one of the huldrefolk," I said.

"Hidden people, yes. An appropriate name, I guess." Her gaze shifted to my escorts. "Thank you, fellas. That'll be all. Close the door behind you, please."

They did as they were told without protest, leaving the two of us alone.

"Welcome to One Oak, Miss Clay. I'm Madame Thea."

"A pleasure to meet you." I studied the greenish hue of her arms. The faint shade was almost imperceptible in the artificial light. Madame Thea noticed my intense gaze.

"You seem surprised by my appearance. Have you never met a troll before?"

"I thought the two groups lived separately. I didn't realize you ever cohabitated." From what I'd learned, the trolls lived in family units that didn't mix and mingle. The one trait they shared aside from living underground was their avoidance of the human population.

"It's an unusual arrangement, I admit, but it works out well for all of us, and where better to embrace a mixed population than Fairhaven?" She produced a single page and a pen. "The NDA is very basic, but we find discretion necessary in order to preserve the quality of our clientele."

I glanced over the terms and signed. "Did the crossroads bring you here?"

Her head dipped in acknowledgment as she tossed the contract on her desk. "Many years ago."

"How long have you been operating an illegal speakeasy?"

"Oh, we're far more than a speakeasy, my lovely. Madame Thea caters to many vices." Her smile was endearingly crooked. "We're even more of an illicit playground than the one topside."

"How many rooms do you have down here?"

"How many did you see?"

"Three, aside from your office. Gambling, alcohol, and… Cynthia." Greed, gluttony, and lust.

"We also have a room for axe throwing," she said.

Anger. "Borrowed that idea from human hipsters, did you?"

"Ours is a bit more suited to the clientele."

I was almost afraid to ask, but I did anyway. "How so?"

"Instead of a traditional target, we offer a willing tribute. And we light the weapon on fire, should the participant request it. Of course, the flames cost extra."

She sounded so nonchalant; I was certain I'd misheard the answer. "Let me get this straight. Did you just say you allow guests to hurl sharp, flaming objects at other living creatures for fun?"

She offered a partial shrug. "The targets are volunteers. Not to worry, they sign a waiver. Some find the danger heightens the appeal. Who are we to judge?"

I dropped my voice to a whisper. "How many have died?"

"Did I forget to mention the small print? You can only volunteer if your species falls under Category I."

"Category I?"

"Immortals. Vampires seem particularly keen to sign up. They enjoy taunting the throwers."

I had to admit, I could see the potential for entertainment there. "What else?"

"The glamour room. We help our guests look and feel their best."

Pride. "You employ more than trolls then."

"I've never met a troll that could conjure a glamour, have you? So, Miss Clay…" A smile danced upon her thin lips. "I'd ask which rooms you might be interested in, but I sense far too much virtue in you to bother. In my experience, virtues and vices can't coexist, at least not in such a small space, which is why I only focus on the more lucrative of the two."

"You sense my virtue?" Most supernaturals sensed my darkness, even if they didn't understand what they felt or why they felt it.

"Oh, please. You radiate goodness. It's like staring into the chubby face of a newborn." She stuck out her tongue, seemingly disgusted.

"I mean, I wouldn't mind hurling a few axes at vampires, but I'm here to share information, not to partake. Presumably you heard what I told your bouncers about the Wild Hunt."

"I did, indeed. How incredible." Despite the words, her tone was flat.

"You don't seem concerned."

"To be perfectly frank, I don't pay much attention to life up there." She tilted her head back as she spoke. "I'm only interested in what happens down here."

"It could impact your business if your customers don't feel safe to travel here."

Her eyes sharpened. "Well, that I do care about. When do we expect them to ride into town?"

"Within the next couple days. We've been gathering intel on their movements. The leader is called Vortigern."

"Perhaps we can entice this Vortigern and his hunters to enjoy some of our goods and services instead of trampling our forest." Her tone was too oily, too slick, for my liking. If she weren't a troll running an illegal speakeasy underground, she might sell timeshares. Gun was right to warn me about her; as diminutive as she appeared, there was a hardness to her. I had no doubt it was her idea to light weapons on fire before hurling them at living targets.

"If I were you, I'd keep this place a secret from them. Vortigern doesn't leave places in the condition he finds them."

The light faded from her eyes. "I see. Well, we can't have that, can we?"

"Just out of curiosity, how many customers do you receive in a day?"

"More than you'd guess."

"Humans?"

She scoffed. "Good gods, no. We don't allow humans. They spoil everything."

My next question spilled from my lips before I could stop it. "Have you ever met Kane Sullivan, the owner of the other playground?"

Her mouth cracked open. "Naturally."

An image of the alluring Cynthia surfaced. "In his establishment or yours?"

"When his head of security discovered our existence, Mr. Sullivan paid us a visit. He wanted to confirm that we intended no harm to the residents of Fairhaven."

That sounded like Kane. "And has he been back since?"

Her smile turned demure. "Many times."

"He has his own bar. Why would he come to yours?"

She waved a hand. "As you can see, we cater to a slightly different clientele. I suspect he enjoys the variety. A demon like Sullivan has eclectic taste."

Did I count as eclectic? Possibly.

I still didn't understand why the Tower card sent me here. I'd given information about the hunt yet hadn't received any. Was that the purpose—to warn Madame Thea? In that case, why not show the speakeasy to Gun, who had a connection to it already?

I was missing something.

I groped for more information. "Do you keep a list of which customers prefer which rooms?"

"Sure do. Why?"

Her power and influence were becoming clearer by the second. A list of clients and their vices. Madame Thea was the kind of woman who'd have politicians quaking in their boots, assuming there were any supernaturals among them.

"Your customers who like to throw axes," I began. "Would you be willing to share that list with me?"

"Absolutely not. That NDA works both ways. My business thrives on discretion."

"What if I asked you to speak to them on my behalf?"

Her eyes narrowed to slits. "You want to request their assistance against the Wild Hunt?"

An idea began to take shape. "The hunters aren't accustomed to being challenged. They ride into an area, do what they want, and leave. It's possible if they barrel through the crossroads and see a small army of fighters, they'll decide it isn't worth it."

"They'd be putting themselves in harm's way if your idea doesn't work. I won't ask them to do that."

"Hold on, I want to show you something." I pulled out my phone and showed her the images Ray had found online. "This is what the Wild Hunt left behind after their last couple expeditions."

Madame Thea's nostrils flared as she studied the photos. "Some of those trees were yanked up by their roots."

I nodded. "Imagine if that happened to One Oak."

Her delicate fingers curled into a fist. "I'll honor your request, Miss Clay, but only because our needs are in alignment. Trust me when I say, that is the only reason."

I believed her—no doubt about it. "Thank you."

I left One Oak feeling more confident than when I entered. More fighters wouldn't help me relocate the white stag, but if we couldn't manage that part, at least I had an idea for the final phase.

But I wished it was a better one.

As I walked through the woods, the sound of gurgling water drew me to the creek—and to Goran.

"What are you doing here? The creek is too shallow for you."

"Migrating to Bone Lake. The river connects to the creek. Don't you know how waterways work?"

I peered at him. "Lakes don't connect to either one of them."

He looked downcast. "Okay, fine. I haven't mustered up the courage yet."

"Why not?"

"Because I have to cover a lot of ground. I'm a water spirit. Traveling across land is very uncomfortable for us, like a fish out of water."

I contemplated the Slavic spirit. "What if I help you?"

"You'd do that?"

"I help you. You help me. Sound good?"

His bulbous eyes glinted with suspicion. "What could I possibly do for you? If you haven't noticed, I'm basically a water gremlin."

"My friend Ray found a ritual that might get me an audience with the Givers. It requires a conduit."

"Still listening for the part that involves a water gremlin."

"The conduit is water, plus someone or something with an existing connection to the Givers."

Goran shifted to float on his back, showing off his bloated belly. "Can't you be the conduit?"

"I'm not certain I have a connection to them, but we know that you do."

He spat water into the air like a hideous fountain. "What's in it for me?"

"Besides the lake?"

"I'm not sure I need a big lake to myself. This creek holds a certain appeal."

"Isn't it obvious? It's your big chance to ask for forgiveness."

His webbed fingers slapped the water as he returned to his original position. "Why would I do that?"

"Because you've served quite a long sentence considering the crime. You might enter that meeting as a vodyanoy and leave as a prince."

Goran seemed to mull it over. "It has been a very long time."

"If they say no, you're no worse off than you are now."

"True, unless they get angry that I dared to ask. The Givers can be prickly creatures."

That was true of most deities.

"I'd only like a quick word with them, but they won't see me without an introduction… and a bloodless sacrifice."

He considered the offer for another moment. "Okay. I'll do it."

"Really?"

"Why not? You move me to Bone Lake safe and sound, and we have a deal. Fair warning, though, I'm heavier than I look. Like a brick with webbed feet."

"I'm stronger than I look." My phone pinged in my pocket. "Hold that thought." The text message was from an unknown number, but the content made it clear that the sender was none other than my new friend, Mathis, with an offer I couldn't refuse.

I agreed to meet him at Five Beans in downtown Fairhaven in an hour. A public place teeming with humans seemed like a safe bet. I didn't want him anywhere near the Castle and risk an encounter with Addison.

"Hot date?" Goran asked.

"I wish. Just trying to help someone without getting myself obliterated in the process."

"Sounds complex. That's the nice thing about living by myself in a backwater town. Stay alone. Stay alive. That's my motto."

"I hope you rethink that motto if you become a prince again." I paused. "Or even if you don't." I held out my arms. "Ready for a ride?"

Goran hopped to the edge of the creek, splashing water across my boots. "You don't need to carry me. I can make it on my own."

I lowered my arms. "If I don't carry you, how do I uphold my end of the bargain?"

"You were clearly committed. That was enough for me. Want to do the ritual now before I head to the lake? Plenty of water in the creek."

"As much as I want to, I can't right now." I couldn't risk missing my meetup with Mathis.

"Catch you later then." He bounced awkwardly through the forest. For both our sakes, I hoped the Slavic Fates had mellowed in the years since their last meeting.

The walk to Five Beans took longer than expected given how deep in the forest I'd been. When I arrived, Mathis was waiting for me near the entrance with a coffee cup in each hand.

"I took the liberty of ordering for you."

"How did you know what to order?"

He flashed a smile. "I charmed the barista into telling me."

I glanced at the woman behind the counter. "She knows my order?"

"She knew your name, that you don't have a regular drink, but you vacillate between the same few." He held out a cup. "So I chose the cappuccino with almond milk and monkfruit sweetener."

I accepted the cup with a mumble of appreciation. I'd always tried to blend in with the shadows. It felt strange to realize that someone had been paying attention to me, even when it was for my benefit.

Mathis motioned to a nearby table. "Here?"

I scanned the interior in search of a quieter table. Chief Garcia was a regular here. I didn't need her overhearing words like ‘goddess' or ‘obliteration.'

"If you're concerned with eavesdroppers," Mathis began, "I have preventative measures." He jiggled his pocket.

"A charm?"

"Of a sort. You'll find The Corporation has many tools at its disposal."

"Like you?" I asked, flashing a sugary smile.

We sat. His smile was still intact; it seemed as permanent a feature as his ears or eyebrows.

Leaning back in his chair, he brought his cup to his lips. "Unless someone in this room is a lip reader, we're good to go."

I sniffed my cup for any evidence of poisons or potions.

Mathis noticed. "I wouldn't dream of drugging you, Miss Clay. It would serve no purpose."

I took a sip. Delicious, as always. The barista knew what she was doing.

"I'll let you start," I said.

"Have you given any thought to my offer? Any loved ones you'd like to be reacquainted with? Any favors to ask of us at all?"

"I'm good, thanks."

His eyes hardened. He didn't seem to like that answer. "You have no reason to harbor Aite, and we have every reason to want her returned to us. It seems like an easy decision to me. Why do you insist on being stubborn?"

"Are you sure you're the smooth-talking god? Because that sounded more like the god of frustration."

He scowled.

"Even if I controlled this Aite or could influence her decisions," I continued, "why would I send her back to an organization she fled?"

"Would you not return an escaped convict to the prison they broke free from?"

"It depends. If it's Andy Dufresne, no. I most certainly would not. If it's Charles Manson, then yes."

Mathis drew a blank. "I'm unfamiliar with these names."

"Forget it. The point is, I'm not sending her anywhere she doesn't want to go. If you want her, you'll have to find another way to get her."

His smile broadened. "Then you admit that you have her."

So much for learning chess from grandmaster Otto Visconti. Back to checkers for me.

My opponent slotted his fingers together on the table. A chunky ring with The Corporation logo adorned his pinky. "From a corporate perspective, I find this immensely frustrating. From a personal perspective, however, I must admit I find your position fascinating. Why protect her? According to our records, you had no interaction with her prior to recent events."

"And she tried to offer me to you as a bargaining chip. I know. I heard you the first time."

His eyebrow stretched. "And yet?"

"She's one lone woman, loosely speaking."

"And I'm one lone man."

"No, you're the chosen representative of an evil corporation."

His chuckle sounded more patronizing than endearing. "You seem to have us confused with the baddies."

"Are you trying to persuade me that you're the good guys?"

"Of course we are. The Corporation protects humanity from off-leash gods and monsters, like Aite. You have no idea what she's capable of."

Off leash. Another term usually reserved for animals. "If she's so dangerous, then why did you employ her?"

"To keep her out of trouble, of course. It's one of the many humanitarian services we provide to this realm."

I nearly choked on my cappuccino foam at the word humanitarian. "Tell me, Mathis. What's the difference between a god that belongs to The Corporation and any other god?"

"That's easy. Destruction. Devastation. We prevent that."

"How?"

"Unless they're created and trained by us, we track down and remove the threat, which is exactly what we're trying to do now."

"That's called a monopoly."

His teeth gleamed. "Winner takes all."

"So she was a perfectly acceptable goddess under The Corporation umbrella, but the second she left, she became a threat?"

"She consistently violated the rules. It's far too risky to have avatars like her roaming around the world unchecked."

"How many avatars have left The Corporation over the years?"

"I don't have those numbers handy at the moment, but it's very low, I can assure you."

"What happens to the ones you manage to catch?"

"We make every effort to reintegrate them into the organization."

"And if you can't?"

He shrugged. "I'm the Director of Risk Management. I do what I must in order to mitigate the risk. It's right there in the title."

"In other words, if Aite doesn't come to heel, you'll obliterate her?" My gaze flicked over his ostentatious clothing. "Sorry, I meant to say you'll have her obliterated. You don't strike me as the kind of guy who gets his hands dirty."

"I do what's required. There are safety protocols to adhere to."

"I guess that means you'll put on a target on my back, too, if you decide I'm a threat."

His dark eyes locked on me. "We're not the villains, Miss Clay."

"You can tell yourselves that all day every day. Doesn't make it true."

He rocked back in his chair. "I see we've reached an impasse."

"Pretty sure that's where we started." I felt a surge of satisfaction as his perma-smile evaporated.

"How are you so resistant to my charms?"

"If it soothes your ego at all, you're not the first guy to ask me that."

He closed his eyes and sighed. "How about this? I've been authorized to make you a generous offer as a show of good faith."

"What kind of offer?"

"We can assist you with your impending mystical problem."

I folded my arms. "Which mystical problem is that?"

"A certain hunting party that's making its way to your precious little town very soon."

"How do you know about that?"

He chuckled. "It's the Wild Hunt, Miss Clay. The Corporation keeps tabs on its movements as a matter of course."

"We don't need your help." There was no way I was letting The Corporation unleash its defenses in Wild Acres. It would be like inviting a tornado to help guard you against a hurricane. They wouldn't care about casualties or collateral damage.

"Then what about the offer I mentioned before? You've lost loved ones. I can put you in touch. No strings attached."

"No strings? I can connect with my parents, but I don't need to turn over Aite?"

"Correct, but this is a one-time offer with an expiration date."

"Why would you do that if the whole point of this meeting is to persuade me to turn her over?"

"We want you to trust us, Miss Clay. To show you that we are a force for good in the world."

"And you'll stop pestering me about Aite?"

"If, after your family reunion, you still believe we don't have humanity's best interest at heart, then you won't see me again. If you're persuaded by our magnanimity, then you'll help us secure Aite before she causes permanent damage."

It was the offer of a lifetime. Still, I knew what a deal with the devil looked like, and this had horns and a forked tail all over it.

"I'll need more details before I decide. How would it work?" I was a goddess of the underworld. It seemed to me that if any deity could connect me to my parents, it should be me.

"As I mentioned, we have many tools at our disposal."

"I'm not interested in the necromancy department, so strike that option from your list."

He chuckled again. This time, it sounded more genuine. "We have several other options. I can think of a certain god right off the top of my head. If memory serves, he's in Cairo at the moment, but it would be simple enough for HQ to extract him for this purpose. If not, there are other deities available."

"Would I be alone?" I wouldn't want anyone to bear witness to such a deeply personal moment.

"We can arrange privacy."

"And you'd do this simply to prove that you're not the big, bad evil corporation you seem to be?"

"Consider it part of our Community Outreach program." He leaned forward. "But the clock is ticking, Miss Clay. The offer is only good until Saturday at midnight. Should you decide to take me up on it, simply text the number on the card I gave you. One for yes and two for no. Instructions will follow."

"And if I forget to text on Saturday night due to my busy social schedule?"

"Then the offer is null and void. In perpetuity."

Forever. "Understood."