38

Cressica Alabastian and the Thing that Happened

One Faeborn Hour Ago

The museum floor was wet with purple blood. Some of it was Cress’s. Even more of it was Mor’s.

They fought back-to-back, never closing their eyes, never looking down as Shadow Fairies airslipped in and out of their vision, knowing a single glance in the wrong direction could cost them their lives.

Cress’s phone rang. He pulled it out, fighting with one hand as he pinched the phone between his head and his shoulder. “Yes?” he growled.

Mor released a baffled sound behind him—seeming to wonder why Cress had answered the phone at a time like this.

Shayne’s voice came through. “I killed the fox once, but he got away with Violet! And Cress—Dranian is hurt.”

“Queensbane,” Cress gritted out. “How hurt?”

“He’s down an arm. Where are you?” Shayne panted through the phone like he was running. “Are you still at the museum?”

“Unfortunately—” The phone was smacked off Cress’s shoulder. At first, he thought it was a Shadow Fairy’s doing, but he realized it was Mor who’d rudely ended the call. Mor didn’t even look sorry for sending Cress’s phone smashing to the floor.

“Focus!” Mor shouted at him.

“I am focused!” Cress shot back. He stabbed a Shadow Fairy and kicked him into the museum wall then turned his forearm to faestone and used it to block a swinging saber. He slashed the fool’s knees, and the Shadow Fairy fell at his feet.

Cress’s royal heart clenched, his mind telling him he and Mor weren’t going to make it out of this as they once had fighting side by side against Shadows in the past. Though they fought hard now, Cress knew their skill had grown relaxed in the months they’d been among the humans sipping beast milk and eating pies.

He took down another foe with a faestone punch.

Something eclipsed the light from the museum doors. Even though it could cost him, Cress glanced that way.

A pack of females in hideous sweaters of all the ugliest colours of fairy yarn filled the museum’s doorway. It was the most beautiful sight Cress had ever beheld in his entire faeborn life, and a beat of relief soared through him.

Cress drove his fairsaber into the nearest Shadow and shoved Mor toward the museum doors. He backed toward the Sisterhood himself, aiming his sword at his enemies, daring them to try and stab him while he closed the gap between his royal self and approximately a thousand pounds of bad smelling yarn.

Shayne and Dranian raced in right as the fight between sword and needle broke out. The two didn’t even stop running—they sprang into the mass of Shadow Fairies, saber and spear swinging. Dranian fought with a terrible disadvantage, hugging one arm to himself. Knitting needles pierced throats and heads and thighs. Cress was about to join in, but… he hung back, wondering if he needed to.

Mor remained at his side. Cress caught him stealing a glance out the museum doors, looking toward the city.

The Prince sighed. “Just go. I need to stay and make sure Dranian doesn’t lose his other arm,” he said.

Mor disappeared without objection, and Cress stood his ground to ensure no fairies slipped into the air after him.

A Shadow Fairy bellowed over the museum, and all the Shadows stopped fighting, the knitters slowed their movements, and Shayne and Dranian caught their breath. The silver-and-brown-eyed fairy with the loud voice marched until he reached Cress. A black and red medallion of authority in the Dark Corner hung around his neck.

“Are you in charge of this army, or is it that female over there?” The Shadow nodded toward Freida.

Cress opened his mouth to announce that apart from the army of females, he was in fact in charge of mostly everything, but Shayne’s white hair appeared before his face.

“Actually, that would be me,” Shayne stated. “High King Shayne, right here.” He pointed to himself. “King of the High Court of the Coffee Bean.”

Cress stifled a grunt.

The Shadow Fairy looked Shayne over, and by some miracle of the sky deities he seemed to think Shayne looked the part, which was absolutely preposterous.

“We wish to make a bargain,” the Shadow said.

“Oh?” Shayne folded his arms, his fairsaber tapping against his side. “A bargain that will force you to leave, I hope?”

“We’ve shed enough fairy blood today. We arrived only this morning, and already I have division fairies who may not survive the night.” He stole a glance back at one or two of the Shadows sprawled over the tile floor. “We came here to check in with our liaison. We were instructed to get in without making it known to the humans we were here—”

“Too late,” Cress mumbled.

“—and then leave. I will be punished for this.”

“So, you want to leave?” Shayne asked. “Done. I agree. Go, then.” He nodded toward the doors behind him.

“It is not that simple, North Fairy.” The Shadow Fairy’s eyes darkened, and a cool breeze rippled over Cress’s skin. Cress tried not to laugh at how not-afraid he was of the fairy’s threat. He thought about crisping the floor to ash and sealing the walls with frost—just to remind everyone he was there.

“Now that Queene Levress of the North has agreed to share her gate with us—” Cress flinched, “—the Dark Queene gave an immediate instruction to send a spy into this realm. She commanded a group from our division to come check on our spy every season to gather his reports.”

“What do you wish for?” Cress cut in with a deep growl. “Now that you’ve told us your whole, boring, faeborn-cursed life story.”

The Shadow Fairy’s gaze cut over to Cress. “I want safe passage every season for me and my division. The wars are bad enough in the Dark Corner. There’s no reason for us to come here and die at your hands.”

“And in exchange, you’ll leave?” Shayne asked, getting back to it. “That’s not good enough. I want you to take your foxy friend with you.”

A snarl crossed the Shadow Fairy’s face. “Luc Zelsor will face a short trial when we find him. If he fails to persuade us of his innocence in this conspicuous catastrophe, he will be dragged back to the Dark Corner of Ever for punishment and stripped of his post. When he was appointed as a liaison spy, he was told to stay out of sight. But it’s clear he hasn’t followed the rules. Likely, he will suffer the strokes of iron.”

“So, what’s the bargain then? I let you pass through the human realm—preferably without you killing anything—once a season? And in exchange for that, you stay far away from the High Court of the Coffee Bean and our humans?” Shayne asked.

“And us,” Freida cut in. She took her place beside Shayne, and Cress was beginning to think they really had forgotten the High Prince of the North was present.

The Shadow Fairy’s gaze darted back to Cress, finally. There was enough recognition in his eyes for Cress to gather he’d seen Mor standing at Cress’s side during the fight. That he knew exactly who and what Mor was. “You are lucky I did not include Trisencor’s death as part of my bargain,” he said coldly.

Though the air was tense, a cruel, slow smile crept across Cress’s face. It was an invitation to try and see what Cress would do about it. But then…

“You still can,” Freida offered. “It’s not too late.”

Cress wouldn’t dare to ever slap a female, but there were times when Freida made him wonder about it.

The Shadow Fairy grunted and went back to Shayne. “Do we have a bargain, High King?”

Shayne nodded. “I can agree to that.”

There was no handshake or fae-grip or salute. The Shadow Fairy marched around Shayne, Freida, and Cress. His whole army followed in complete silence, the only sounds the thudding of their boots down the museum stairs. Some of the fairies carried their injured army members over their shoulders.

The Brotherhood and the Sisterhood watched them leave.

Dranian appeared beside Cress with a bothered brow. “So, they will take that fox back with them?” he asked in a low, grumbly voice.

“I doubt it,” Cress replied. “If the fox planned to cooperate with the Dark Corner, he would have stayed here with his fellow Shadow Fairies. I imagine he’ll run off for good, likely never to come near us again now that we took two of his sacred lives.”

Dranian lifted his head high. “He stole my arm. I will make it my life’s mission to hunt him down and make him pay,” he proclaimed to all listening.

Shayne, Cress, and even horrid Freida rolled their eyes a little.

“I don’t care if we made a bargain with those fools,” Cress said, eyeing the army of Shadows marching openly down the street, turning human heads. News vans had already rolled up, and a few reporters with terror-stricken faces were bravely trying to approach the Shadow Fairies. “We are going to guard our café and our humans with our lives until the moment they’re gone,” Cress finished.