19

Cressica Alabastian and the Whole Three Days,

Starting at the Beginning

The trio of days had started all wrong.

First:

In the middle of the cursed night, Shayne had lunged off the couch in Kate’s apartment—still sleeping—and tripped over the area rug in the small living space. It had turned into a full-fledged fairy-splat after that. Shayne became one with the rug, moaning loud enough to rattle the building.

Cress released a huff as he tore off his sheets and strutted out of the bedroom. “You’d better be dead,” he warned Shayne as he entered the living space. “Or I’ll kill you for waking me up again.”

Shayne rubbed his face and shot Cress a look. “I fell,” he said.

Cress blinked slowly. “How enlightening. I hadn’t noticed.”

From the chair by the door, Dranian’s snoring hitched. It wasn’t fair that the fairy was able to sleep through anything these days, and Cress was left to deal with Shayne’s horrendous sleep noises.

Shayne picked himself up off the floor, rubbing his backside. “I had a bad dream,” he explained.

“I’m having a bad dream now,” Cress growled. “Is not even a prince of the North Corner permitted to get any sleep here?”

“Aren’t you going to ask me what my dream was about?” Shayne asked, flopping back onto the couch. The white-haired assassin adjusted the pillow behind his head, already seeming ready to go back to sleep.

Cress hesitated. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. He folded his arms. He shifted his weight.

“What was it about?” he finally asked.

“I’m not telling,” Shayne said.

Cress grumbled a curse and turned to head back into the bedroom. Kate was lucky to be sleeping at Lily’s apartment these last months. At least she was able to dream without waking to Shayne’s midnight madness.

“Cress,” Shayne said before Cress was out of sight.

The Prince poked his head back into the living space. “What?”

Shayne tapped a finger against his stomach and stared up at the ceiling. “I dreamt about home.”

Cress watched the assassin for a few moments. He didn’t need to ask why that would have resulted in a nightmare. Why it would have made Shayne fling himself off the couch in a fitful sleep. He knew full well.

He also knew that comforting his Brotherhood of Assassins had never been his strong suit. Cress was made to demand their attention, equip them with skills, and when necessary, strike fear into their hearts so they would obey. It was Mor who had become the fairy to march into their sleeping caves and give them a good talking to when needed, or an inspiring quote, or an ear to listen. Cress never had to think twice about his assassins’ worries or feelings. He fought for them, he saved their lives, and he taught them to defend themselves when he wasn’t around. He hadn’t had time for much else while enemy war fairies knocked at the North’s door and enchanted sea monsters lurked below the North Corner waters. Cress had been sent across the Corner to slay fae and monsters. Negotiating wasn’t in his skill set.

But Mor would have known the right thing to say to Shayne in this moment. Cress could only think to swat at Shayne’s head until all of his obnoxious dreams fell out.

Cress’s gaze dropped to the floor. It was getting increasingly difficult to do as Mor had asked. There were only so many wedding preparations that could distract a powerful assassin prince.

He remembered the day he first crossed Mor on a golden field. The curly-haired fool had been different then; wild. A bit lost. A smidgen out of his mind. It was only after a heart-pounding battle Cress had dragged that Shadow rebel back to the Silver Castle with him, and Mor had turned into the thing the Brotherhood of Assassins didn’t know they needed.

Cress found himself smiling briefly at the precious memory. He dropped the look from his face though and folded his arms to compose himself.

“I love the café, but I’m bored,” Shayne said. It seemed his mind had gone to the same place Cress’s had. “I was an heir to the House of Lyro, remember? You know I wasn’t made to sit things out.”

Cress’s sigh filled the apartment. “There has to be a reason Mor told us not to become entangled. I’ve gone over it a thousand times, and I can’t figure it out. But there must be a faeborn-cursed reason.” He rubbed his eyes, realizing he was still so treacherously tired. “Now, if you wake me one more faeborn-cursed time, Shayne, I’ll toss you off the balcony,” Cress threatened.

Shayne’s eyes were already closed. It was painfully obvious that the white-haired assassin was only pretending to sleep. He released a teeny tiny snore that was orchestrated to the highest degree, and Cress grunted. The Prince rolled his eyes and marched back to bed.

He didn’t sleep a wink after that.

Second:

Mor had surprised everyone by showing up at the café on day two. A colourful human was on his arm with bright lips and shimmering eye powders. A new friend, it seemed. Cress glared at her with all the coldness of the North. How dare she be accepted into Mor’s confidence when Mor already had perfectly good friends he was avoiding?

Cress quickly turned toward where Kate was crouched down by the low cupboards and began rattling through his latest wedding plans in a loud voice so Mor might hear all he was missing out on. From the corner of his eye, he saw Mor head through the café toward him.

Kate looked up at Cress like he was crazy. With her eyes alone, she cast him the sort of adorable, “What in the human realm are you doing?” look that could have melted his faeborn heart on another day. But her face changed when Mor appeared at the counter.

“Cress,” Mor’s voice seemed to fill the whole room.

Cress ignored him.

Kate cast Cress a crossbeast-fang-sharp look. She stayed where she was, crouched before the cupboard. Not getting involved, apart from nodding her head toward Mor, saying something to Cress with her eyes that had an entirely different vibe than their lovely wedding plans.

Cress huffed and turned to face the deserter. “May I help you, Mor?” he asked, flashing a wicked smile as he waited for an apology, which would be undoubtedly followed by Mor’s grovelling and begging Cress to take him back.

“I’m not staying,” Mor said, and Cress’s smile fizzled out. “I just came here because I need Kate’s sweater.”

Cress blinked. Once. Twice. Thrice.

“Give it to him.” Kate’s treacherous decision ruined Cress’s cold behaviour performance.

“I don’t particularly want to,” Cress said back to her.

“Give it to him, Cress. If he came here asking for it, it’s because he needs it,” Kate said. Then she muttered, “Seriously, you’re so moody when you miss sleep.”

Cress had half a mind to explain to his betrothed that his reasons for missing sleep had only half to do with Shayne’s noises. The other half had to do with the stress of planning a wedding to her. She ought to be grateful for his sacrifice.

For a brief moment, the corner of Mor’s mouth tugged up. But the almost-smile vanished before it set in.

Cress flung open the cupboard doors below the sink where those at Fae Café stashed everything of the important and magical sort, and he yanked out the sweater made of the Sisterhood’s fairy yarn. “For your new friend?” Cress asked as he tossed the sweater over.

“She’s my secretary,” Mor stated without explaining further.

“She’s pretty,” Kate commented, rising from her crouched position just enough to spy on the human over the counter.

“She’s vile and hideous. I hate her,” Cress stated.

Mor rolled his faeborn eyes as he turned away with the sweater.

The hardness on Cress’s face melted off as he worried that was it. He hadn’t seen Mor in months and suddenly Mor arrived at the café after all this time and there was no, “How are you, Cress?” or, “Are you well?” or, “Are we still the best of fae-friends?” or even, “That human woman I brought in means nothing to me and I wouldn’t dream of replacing you with her.” Truly, Cress fought the impulse to chase after the fairy and do all the grovelling and begging himself. He opened his mouth several times to call things as Mor slipped away, moving further and further through the tables, becoming more out of reach by the second.

“Mor,” Cress said. Just his name. Nothing else felt good enough.

Even though Mor’s back was turned, he slowed his escape just a little. Cress knew Mor’s fairy ears would pick up on his next words past the distance between them. “You have one more week to settle this. Then I’m coming for you.”

By the grace of the sky deities, Mor did not react.

Mor did, however, leave his human behind in the café for Cress to glare at for the next twenty-four hours. The Prince of the North could hardly keep his distance. It took every faeborn ounce of his self control not to pin her in the corner and release a mountain of questions about what Mor was doing, where he was going, and what was so good and magical about her that Mor had let her near him in the first place?

Third:

The human had escaped. Cress didn’t hear about it until he came down from the apartment in the morning and learned that Dranian had taken Violet Miller out on a cursed stroll. Shayne was nowhere to be found, and Kate… Well. She’d orchestrated the whole evil plot to let the human go.

“Are you out of your faeborn mind, Human?!” Cress said to Kate in a fit of panic. “You helped her escape?”

“She’s not our prisoner, Cress,” Kate rebutted as she dusted the café bookshelf with a large, plush fluffy thing.

“That is precisely what she is, Katherine!” He only used her real name anymore when she’d done something he adored or disproved of. It seemed she knew it, too. She paused her dusting and turned to face him with her hands on her hips.

“She needed her medicine. It was important,” Kate stated. “You can’t deprive someone of their health. It’s a basic human right in this country.”

Cress huffed and spun toward the door, dragging his hand through his silken hair. He spun back to her again.

“Where did they go? I cannot let that human escape or come into harm’s way,” he said.

“I thought you found her vile and hideous,” Kate challenged, going back to her dusting.

“I do. But Mor asked us for this one thing, and if we fail, he won’t ask us for help again.” Cress looked around for his fairsaber handle. “I’m sure she’s fine,” he coached himself. “She’s probably fine.” He did another full spin, making himself dizzy. He could not remember where he’d left his faeborn weapon.

The café door burst open; both Cress and Kate jumped.

Dranian marched in, spear in his hand, fairy sweat on his brow, his chest pumping.

“Queensbane, what happened?!” It was more of an accusation than a question. “You lost her, didn’t you? Oh, sky deities have mercy, we’re doomed!” Cress moaned. Yes, now was the right time to panic.

“I’m afraid I failed to protect Mor’s human,” Dranian stated, and Kate dropped the fluffy dust thing.

“What?” Her weak human-y voice lifted from beside Cress. “Seriously?”

“I will take whatever punishment is necessary.” Dranian dropped to a knee. “I forfeit my right to guard humans ever again in this lifetime.”

Kate shook her head. “Dranian, this isn’t your fault! You don’t have to—”

“I should make you eat rocks!” Cress bellowed.

“What? No way!” Kate swooped in and dropped beside Dranian, and soon Cress had two subjects kneeling before him. Kate clasped her hands together in a begging sort of way. “Cress,” she reasoned, “this is my fault, not his.”

“Then you eat rocks,” he said to Kate. But his mouth twitched as she gazed up at him with her large, hazel, human eyes. He could never truly make her do that. Queensbane, he hated the thought of it. “Oh, forget it!” he said, marching back to the counter to hunt for his fairsaber. “I’ll fix this myself.”

“Mor was there,” Dranian said, and Cress stopped.

“You saw Mor—Where?”

“In the street. And the Shadow Fairy showed up. I saw him with my own eyes; the one Mor has been hunting.”

Cress came right back, slower this time. “You saw the Shadow.”

Dranian’s green gaze flickered up to the Prince. “I did. I smelled him too, even past his dandelion cloak. This war fairy…” Dranian looked off, his green eyes glazing over like he was in another place. “I’ve never crossed a scent like his.” His gaze shot back to Cress. “He’s not quite like us. We’ve faced many fairy kinds before, but this one makes me afraid.”

There was a shift in the café’s air. Cress felt the old North magic murmur over his flesh. “What exactly are we dealing with, Dranian?” he asked his assassin.

Dranian’s ever-scowl twisted as he seemed to think how best to describe it. He finally settled with, “Something as powerful as you, Cress. Possibly even more powerful.”

Kate began looking back and forth between Dranian and Cress. She was going to make herself dizzy if she didn’t cut it out.

Dranian stood, and Kate scrambled to stand beside him.

Cress realized his jaw was dropped, leaving his mouth hanging open. He closed it when a human realm fly buzzed by and threatened to sail right in.

So, there was a Shadow Fairy in the human realm terrible enough to have driven Mor mad and make Dranian believe such things. Cress’s hand idly went to Kate, and he tugged her to him by her sleeve. He stared out the café window as he hugged his human to himself. She blinked up at him in question.

“Where is Mor now?” he asked Dranian over his prized human’s head.

Dranian’s gaze fell to the floor again. “He vanished as soon as the Shadow Fairy did. I was left in the street with no rival, no ally, and no human to guard.”

So, that pretty much summed up Cress’s last few days.