16. Taryn

SIXTEEN

TARYN

I’ve frequented lots of huge cities that cater to a robust night life—New York City, Tokyo, Paris, and dozens of others—so I assumed Vegas would be more of the same. Just another metropolis lit up with billions of LEDs like digital fireworks on a perpetual loop.

I was wrong.

Although I made it a point to stay far away from Vegas until now, I had a healthy respect for what the Night Court accomplished. It wasn’t enough for them to simply adapt and thrive in the barren land they were banished to. They rebuilt their kingdom from the ground up. And instead of isolating themselves from humans, they seduced them with a neon empire of debauchery and used them to achieve wealth and power.

Before the exile, the court-born power all Dark Fae possessed was called the Yearning. They could invade your mind and uncover all the wicked, depraved thoughts you kept secreted away—everything from the smallest of vices to the most debased of sins—then they’d implant the overwhelming urge to act on them.

The energy here is its own entity; a living, breathing thing that seeps into your pores and burrows into the darkest shadows of your soul. It fosters an environment that encourages you to shatter your own inhibitions and ignore your better judgement. The Darks have the same power here as they did back in Faerie, and they do it all without the benefit of magic.

It’s fucking brilliant.

“Ready?”

“Ready,” I say with a nod.

As we walk toward the massive hotel, we use the glamours that make us near invisible to humans. No one is paying us any attention, yet it doesn't stop Finn from staying on high alert, looking around like he expects Edevane to pop out at any second. I hope he fucking does. I want a chance to end that motherfucker.

Our current mission is inside the Bellagio, a hotel and casino modeled after a resort town on the shores of Lake Como in Northern Italy. Ironically, I’ve been to the real one several times in the past. In fact, I’ve been to most, if not all, of the real places the Vegas hotels are modeled after.

Stepping through the revolving doors of the Bellagio Hotel, we’re immediately enveloped by opulence: the cool, lily-scented air, the polished marble floor echoing under my heels, and above, Dale Chihuly’s glass sculpture blooming across the ceiling. The grand staircase to the left glints with gold filigree, while the murmur of conversation of guests milling about and clinking glasses from the Petrossian Bar adds a soothing hum.

Approaching the Conservatory and Botanical Gardens, I’m drawn in by a kaleidoscope of colors and the vibrant sounds of nature. The entrance is framed by towering floral arches, an explosion of roses, sunflowers, and ivy that form a living gateway.

Inside, the theme “Majesty: The Grandeur of Nature” comes to life with stunning artistry. Massive peacock sculptures made entirely of flowers display their feathered splendor, each petal meticulously placed to capture the brilliance of real plumage. Water cascades from an ornate fountain into a crystal-clear pond, surrounded by lush greenery and delicate blossoms.

The air is perfumed with the intoxicating scents of jasmine and gardenia, mingling with the earthier tones of moss and fern. Visitors wander through this botanical paradise, their faces lit with wonder, and as I step farther in, the sheer beauty and tranquility of the scene envelop me. The whimsy of it reminds me of Faerie, and a pang of homesickness I haven’t felt in ages hits me out of nowhere. Drawing in a slow breath, I push the unwelcome feeling away.

“Here we are,” Finn says. “Skies of glass where flowers bloom. That’s half of the clue solved already. What’s the rest of it again?”

“‘Loosened stone is parchment’s tomb. One is done with petal fire, two then three unearth the spire.’”

“Any ideas on what any of that means?”

“None. I guess we should start with looking for anything resembling a loose stone.” He arches a brow at me that says he doesn’t think I could’ve suggested anything more basic. “If you have a more profound idea, Einstein, feel free to share it with the class.”

“As a matter of fact…” He scans the room for several seconds like he’s hoping the answer will jump out at him from one of the displays. Finally, he turns to me and says, “Yeah, I got nothing. Let’s do your thing.”

My dramatic eye roll is cut off by my squeak of surprise when he starts walking and yanks me along with my hand still in his. The conservatory is fairly busy, but the people naturally move around us without so much as even looking in our direction. As we make our way down the path in front of the North bed, we study the display itself and the tiles along the path that make up the raised beds.

“You know,” I say, as I bend down to run my fingers across a couple of tiles that don’t appear as flush as the rest. “Something I don’t understand is how whatever we’re looking for was placed here to begin with. Vegas wasn’t even a thing back in 1903, right?”

He shakes his head. “The Golden Gate hotel opened in 1905. It was the first establishment of what my father envisioned for this city. He did a lot of celebrating the night of the grand opening.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“No, that’s what my birthday tells me,” he says with a wry grin. “My grandmother knew about me at least three years before I was born, but I doubt she told my dad because he didn’t want another kid. Which means she wouldn’t have involved him in hiding whatever it is we’re looking for.”

“What about your mother?”

“What about her?”

“Would Moira have recruited her to help her?”

He thinks about that as we move on to the West Bed, searching for anything that might resemble a loose stone. “I don’t think my mom would’ve been able to keep it a secret from me all this time, but I suppose it’s possible.”

“If we can’t find what we’re looking for here, it might be worth asking her or anyone else who was around back then.”

“Like Seamus,” he says, his eyebrows raising. “He was my father’s best friend and advisor and he’s like an uncle to us, but I think his loyalty would be to Faerie first. He would’ve done whatever Moira asked and kept her secrets if he thought Faerie’s future depended on it.”

“Sounds like he’s our best bet, then.” Turning my head to the left, I gasp at what I see. “Gods, I can’t believe it.”

“Did you find the stone? Where is it?”

I shake my head. “No, sorry, it’s not that. Come on,” I say, leading him to the far end of the West Bed where I’ve found a piece of my childhood. Hundreds of pale blueish-purple flowers, each with five elongated petals with wavy edges that stretch up toward the sky. I crouch down and cup one of the unique blossoms.

“They’re native to Tír Tairngire. I knew my mom gifted some to a human long before I was born, but I never came across any since being in this realm.” I smile up at him. “I had so much fun with these as a kid.”

“Doing what, making flower crowns?” he asks wryly.

“No, smartass. When I was a kid, we discovered that they react to our power’s heat by forming images. We made a game out of guessing what they’d choose next.”

“Wonder if these would react the same way without Faerie’s magic.”

Nostalgia rises in my chest. Lifting my open palm in front of my face, I summon a small flame, then blow on it. The heat fans out over the tops of the flowers, making them sway slightly as though disturbed by a light breeze, then…nothing.

Straightening, I give a careless shrug to hide my inner child’s disappointment. “Guess we have our answer. Come on, let’s keep looking.”

I start for the South Bed when Finn’s hand catches my wrist. “Taryn.”

Turning back, a zing of excitement rushes through me as the flowers begin to shift. The ones on either side curve toward the ground, turning their blossoms upside-down so that they’re mostly unnoticeable. It leaves a section in the center of four flowers wide that stretches from the front of the bed where we’re standing all the way to the back.

“They made a line,” Finn says.

My brows draw together. “More like a column on a bar graph, but yeah.”

Finn crosses his arms, clearly unimpressed. I can’t say that I blame him. “Maybe the lack of magical environment leads to unimaginative designs.”

“Wait, they’re still moving.” I glance around at the other people milling around the conservatory but no one else seems to notice the shape-shifting flowers. They slowly lean into each other, creating a tighter and narrower column. “Okay, now it’s a line.”

“No,” he says, unfolding his arms and pointing to the far side where a different shape is forming at the end. “It’s an arrow.”

“Oh my gods, Finn, that’s it. I can’t believe I didn’t remember until now. Back home these are called lile lasrach . It means flame lily.”

Our gazes snap together. “Because the petals look like flames. Petal fire.” I nod, then we race around to the other side where the tip of the arrow ends at the edge of the raised bed. “Okay, we only have ‘loosened stone’ and ‘two then three’ left to figure out, and now we have a more concentrated area to search.”

“Don’t you think we probably skipped over the stone part since that came before the arrow?”

“You’re asking the wrong person. Unlike my grandmother, I don’t have the gift of foresight.”

He crosses to the back wall of the conservatory and runs his hand along the wall. While he covers that, I scan the area for anything in groupings of twos or threes. I find several throughout the room but they’re nowhere near the arrow. Finn turns away from the wall and shakes his head. “Nothing.”

I sigh and look down at the floor, but there’s no way any of the floor tiles would be loose. They’d be too noticeable and fixed immediately. That leaves us with… My head turns to where the arrow ends at the lip of the raised bed. I kneel to get a closer look at the small black tiles.

Finn crouches next to me. “See anything?”

“Not yet.” I trail my fingers over the grout lines that span the entire width of the arrow’s head but none of them feel damaged or any different than the ones outside of that perimeter. Sighing in frustration, I sit back on my heels. “I don’t get it. It has to be here.”

“Maybe it was. Someone could’ve discovered whatever it was that was loose and fixed it. Which means whatever we’re searching for may have already been found. Let’s go back to the penthouse and I’ll call Seamus, see if he knows anything.”

Finn braces his hands on his knees and starts to push up but I stop him. “Wait. Let me try something first.”

Licking my lips nervously, I send up a quick prayer to Brigid that this works. My magic feels stronger with every passing hour, but after not being able to use it for so long, my confidence in my abilities is shaken. I rub my fingers against my palms a few times, then hold them out a few inches in front of the low barrier.

I take a deep breath and close my eyes, concentrating on my intention. Then I whisper it into existence. “ Creathadh. ” Vibrate.

The magic in my blood flows into my hands, sending a wave of energy against my target. When nothing happens, I take another breath and very carefully raise the intensity. If I let too much through it’s possible I won’t just vibrate the tiles, I’ll decimate them and everything else in the vicinity.

Sweat pops out on my brow, and I’m about to give up, when the grout surrounding the very top piece gives way in a tiny shower of dust that lands on the floor. I pull my magic back in and close my hands for good measure as I stare in disbelief.

“Holy shit,” he says.

“Don’t be too impressed. It’s entirely possible I just shook loose a perfectly intact tile that has nothing to do with this.”

“Hey.” Finn uses a finger on my chin to turn my head toward him. When his honey gaze locks onto mine, he brushes his thumb over my cheek and says, “Don’t diminish your gifts, Taryn. I saw the effort it took for you to control that. Whether this pans out or doesn’t, what you did was impressive as hell. Got it?”

Trying not to think about how much his praise means to me, I swallow past the thickness in my throat and force a casual tone. “Got it. Now, are you going to end the suspense, or should we just sit here and contemplate the possibilities?”

A wry grin tilts one corner of his mouth up before he leans in to speak low into my ear. “One of these days, solnyshko , I’m going to bind you in my ropes and find a better use for that smart mouth of yours.”

I don’t get the chance to toss back a retort—not that my brain is capable of anything but static after hearing his deliciously wicked threat—because he pulls away and grabs the barely exposed edges of the tile. I cross my fingers as he wiggles it back and forth to loosen the rest of the grout holding it in place. And then it’s free.

Behind it is a dark, seemingly empty space no larger than a square inch. “Moment of truth.” Finn blows out a breath, then reaches inside with his forefinger. “I feel something.” A second later he’s withdrawing a glass tube with a cork stopper. Inside is a rolled-up piece of?—

“Parchment,” I say, staring in awe. “Open it up, let’s see what it says.”

Finn scans the room. “Not here. Let’s get away from these crowds.”

Taking my hand in his, he leads me back through the lobby and outside to an empty alcove along the front of the hotel. At least here we’re not in the middle of a crowd, and with our avoidance glamours still up, no one will pay us any attention.

Satisfied with our position, he removes the cork and tips the vial to let the small roll of paper slide into his palm. Then he carefully unrolls it, revealing faded ink in penmanship that matches Moira’s in the letter and clue Finn received.

As Lugh dips low on LOVE’s cascade,

two reveal where secrets fade.

Past the veil of waters bright,

the sovereign sleeps devoid of light.

With the treasure will be three,

unlocked for thee with destiny’s key.

“It’s another clue.” Excitement thrums in my veins. I look up to gauge Finn’s reaction, but his mind appears to be a million miles away. Half a minute goes by and still nothing. “Finn, you okay?”

He blinks hard as though coming back to himself. “I’m good. Just wish she’d been a little less cryptic this time.”

“Well, whatever these lead to, it’s clear she didn’t want to make it easy for anyone to find. Any thoughts on what’s waiting for us at the end of this mysterious rainbow?”

Finn blows out a breath as he carefully puts the rolled-up parchment back in the tube and corks it. “In the first clue, I wasn’t sure what the last half of the third line meant, since it didn’t describe what we found.”

I nod in agreement. “A vial can be called multiple things, but ‘spire’ wouldn’t be one of them. And since this is our second clue, I’m guessing ‘two then three’ means we’ll have a third and final clue, and that’s how we find the spire. Whatever that is.”

“I was thinking about that, and it could be another word for spear .”

My eyes widen. “She’s leading you to the other half of the Spear of Assal. That’s why you’re the one who saves Faerie, because you make sure Edevane never gets his hands on it.”

“But that doesn’t make any sense. She hid that half in Faerie where neither Edevane nor I can go.”

“Are we positive that’s what she did? Maybe she fae-truthed her way into convincing Cormac that she’d already hidden it before the exile. That’s what I would do.”

“Holy shit, you’re right.” He rubs a hand back and forth over his head a few times, then laughs as though in disbelief of the revelation. “The spear is here. In Vegas.”