“
You missed that about our history. Judging by your long line of journals, some of it must have gotten lost along the way.
”
Corentin puffed a sigh. She had him there.
“
You’re wrong about our forbearer being the offspring of
Hansel
and the Enchantress. The Enchantress couldn’t have children. They raised
Gretel’s
child together
,” she said and seemed to wait for it to all register.
“
But why do I forget?
Why do I have the story of the tree spirit tattooed on me, and not your version of our origin?
”
Gabrielle giggled. “
Men. Only remembering details important to them.
”
He grinned despite himself. But when the moment passed, he spoke up. “
Why this?
”
“
We are not meant to know. Because why this?
” She held out her ashen hands. “
This is my curse. I am the Enchantress’s anger and passion. You? You are the Enchantress’s spite and malice.
”
Corentin held out his hand, beckoning for hers. “
May I?
”
She rested her hand in his. Immediately he understood the radiating heat coming through her skin. He ran his thumb over the back of her hand, and more ash flaked away under his touch.
“
You burn.
”
“
And you forget.
”
“
Does it hurt?
” Corentin asked.
“
I’m just hot right now. But in a couple hours? I need to shut myself away. I could hurt someone.
” She drew her hand away and flexed her fingers. “
I want my curse broken, and I’ll do anything to make it happen.
”
Corentin growled in the back of his throat. “
I’m not letting you kill
Taylor,” he warned.
Gabrielle blinked and sat straighter. “
Why would I do that?
”
He pointed an accusing finger. “
Don’t play stupid.
Aliss
told
Taylor
I had to cut out his heart to break my curse. She said I’d become a monster again, and somehow
Taylor
thought it was the right thing to do.
”
Gabrielle jerked back and slapped the tiles next to her thighs. “Aliss
lied to him!
That’s not how to do it!
”
Corentin shot to his feet and loomed over her. “
What the fuck are you talking about?
”
She was on her feet as light as a vanishing flame. “
You’ll find it in the Book!
”
He quickly shook his head. “
What Bo—
”
“Corentin!” Honeysuckle screeched from the door, and both he and Gabrielle stumbled back as if faced with Idi himself. “Corentin!” Honeysuckle screeched again. “Taylor’s gone! Someone took him!”
Gabrielle shook her head, looking panicked and confused between the two of them.
Corentin pointed out the door. “Go get Aliss.” He waited three seconds for Gabrielle’s understanding. He pointed urgently. “Go get Aliss!”
May 9
Idea, Temple of Cars
CORENTIN’S HEART
remained intact. If Ringo’s enchantment was real, it was the best news he’d had in the last hour. He told himself to believe it was real.
“Taylor’s alive,” he told Aliss as they rushed to the parking garage. “I know it.”
Honeysuckle zoomed along wringing her hands. “It’s happening again,” she whimpered.
“We can’t panic right now,” Corentin said, all the while barely holding it together. “Did you see anything?”
They reached the parking garage. Gabrielle dispersed into smoke and darted through the rows of vehicles.
Honeysuckle settled in Corentin’s open hands. “There was a bright golden light. And then they were gone,” she babbled. “I can’t believe it. I can’t believe it!”
Aliss followed Gabrielle, and Corentin gestured for Honeysuckle to come along.
Gabrielle resumed her human shape and poked her head up from a neighboring row. “Camaro’s gone.”
“What else did you see?” Aliss asked Honeysuckle.
Corentin watched Honeysuckle. “Think.
Think
!” he snapped and regretted how harsh it sounded.
Gabrielle narrowed her eyes as she approached them, her gaze intent on the floor. “There are three sets of footprints here.” She pointed. “These are Taylor’s.” She gestured by sweeping her hands over the floor.
Corentin didn’t see anything. An unnerving, sinking feeling in his stomach wouldn’t go away. Even as a huntsman, a master tracker, he couldn’t sense the magical impressions left by the assailants. Depending on Gabrielle wasn’t easy, but he didn’t have a choice.
She straightened. “A fourth.”
Aliss and Corentin exchanged glances. “A fourth?” Aliss asked.
“Very faint.” Gabrielle bent forward, scanning the tiles. “A… stagger?” She tried to demonstrate by limping on one foot.
“Stagger? Like drunk?” Corentin asked.
Gabrielle pointed and nodded at Corentin. “Drunk.” She followed the trail of steps. “All vanish at the Camaro.”
“Someone used Words to get in,” Aliss said, her thin blonde brows furrowed.
“And Words to get out.” Corentin followed along with Gabrielle, trying to sense the same magic she felt.
She crouched over a patch of floor and gestured for Corentin to wipe his fingers over it. She raised her own hands, revealing her soot and ashen fingers. “Useless.”
He obeyed and ran his index and middle over the floor. They came away glittering. He sniffed the substance, then rubbed it between his fingers. Golden hairs sprouted from his fingers, and he pressed his lips into a grim line. “Ray took him,” he growled.
“Princess Valentine is in the dungeon,” Aliss said firmly.
Corentin pushed to his feet and frowned, unamused with Aliss. “It seems like you have a mole.” He blinked at Honeysuckle. “Of course!”
“I’m the mole?” Honeysuckle gasped. “Henri Corentin, how dare you make such an accusation!”
“No! I know how to find Taylor.” Hope renewed in his heart. “You and Ringo have been working on your marriage.”
Aliss crossed her arms. “What does that have to do with anything?”
Honeysuckle brightened. “Yes. I can call to Ringo with my heart.” She twirled with a laugh. “That’s brilliant.”
Aliss and Gabrielle seemed equal parts confused.
Honeysuckle spread her fingers, and light blue threads materialized from her fingertips. “When pixies are wed,” she said as she looped the long gathering of threads over one arm, “we are bonded by the heart. Wherever we are, we can always find the other. Our bond isn’t perfect, but I can get in the vicinity.”
Aliss made a slight smile at Corentin. “I was wrong about you.”
Was that an apology? Corentin narrowed his eyes. “I was wrong about
you
,” he spat. “You lied to me.”
“Lied?” She seemed offended. “I had to be sure.”
Corentin threw out his hand. “How many fucking times do you need to be sure?”
Aliss frowned. “I knew if you killed Taylor, you would have been too desperate. And if Taylor willingly sacrificed himself without weighing all of the facts, he would have been just another gullible princess.”
“Excuse you?” Corentin stalked toward her.
Gabrielle appeared between them in a blink. She raised her ashen hands, trying to get them to calm down. “Aliss. Corentin is good. I know it.”
All eyes turned to Honeysuckle as she hummed to herself and wove more sparkling threads. She tied them and snipped the loose ends with her fingers. She twirled and swayed in the air, her wings buzzing as she pulled more threads from her fingers.
“Taylor was willing to die for you,” Aliss told Corentin. “He’s bound to your heart just as Honeysuckle is bound to Ringo.”
Corentin kept his attention on Honeysuckle’s work. “You have no idea.”
Aliss chuckled. “I think I might.”
The hair rose on the back of his neck. Did she know? Was Ringo’s enchantment real? Instead, he challenged her. “And you thought it would be perfect to tear us apart?”
Aliss shrugged as she continued watching Honeysuckle. She openly admired her. “An acceptable casualty.”
“You are one fucked-up bitch, you know.” He crossed his arms. “When this is over, you and the Library can go fuck yourselves.”
Aliss chuckled a low smoky sound. “Unfortunately, Mr. Devereaux, there will always be books. There will always be libraries.”
“Oh, shoot,” Honeysuckle grumped as her magical threads fell apart. She started again, pulling a long row of threads from each finger.
“What’s wrong?” Aliss asked, her impatience evident.
“It’s difficult to remember the pattern,” Honeysuckle said. “It’s a bit of trial and error to remember when to knit or purl.”
“You’re not making a scarf,” Aliss said in irritation.
Honeysuckle arched a brow. “You, my dear, need a lesson in manners.” She hurriedly pulled threads from her fingers again and then started over. She slipped on the first stitch and the threads sparked into nothingness. “Daggumdrops!” she fussed.
“I can help?” Gabrielle asked. “Help?” She stepped forward and held up her hands to Honeysuckle.
Corentin shook his head, “I don’t thi—”
Aliss slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Let her try. Dark magic and pixie magic are reasonably compatible, correct?”
Corentin arched a brow. “Uh. No.”
Honeysuckle puffed a sigh and tried again. “Any magic will be helpful at this point.” She smiled at Gabrielle. “Hold your hands out.”
Gabrielle cradled the magical threads as Honeysuckle began her knitting once again. Corentin’s gut turned at the sight of Gabrielle’s ashen hands. They flaked and peeled, vanishing into nothing.
“We don’t have long,” Corentin said, watching Aliss for comprehension.
“She’ll burn,” Aliss said, as if it were trivial.
“And I’ll forget.”
Aliss nodded. “Then for your sake, I hope we solve this quickly.”
“Aliss….
Aliss
….” A crackling female voice echoed through the garage.
Corentin’s hackles rose with the disturbing tone. He and Aliss turned as Lacey lumbered toward them in a lopsided stagger.
“Lacey…,” Aliss said and nodded at Corentin. “Lacey what are you doing?”
Her shoulders jerked sharply as she shambled forward. One eye rolled independently of the other. A sick, contorted grin pulled her face as the muscles and skin contracted.
“She’s overdosed,” Corentin said, hurrying to her side.
Aliss didn’t move, and her jaw hung slack. “Lacey,” she whispered and shook her head. “Lacey, what happened to you?”
Gabrielle gaped, bewildered at Lacey. She turned back to Honeysuckle. “Faster, yes? Go faster?”
Honeysuckle nodded. “I’m trying as best as I can.” Her voice remained sweet, polite, yet Corentin caught the trouble in her tone.
Corentin supported Lacey under one arm. “You see what you’ve done?” he snapped at Aliss. “You sent her into the field and said she knew the risks, and you let her become this.”
“I just wanted to be useful…,” Lacey croaked. She had a horrific grin on her face, but tears streamed from her eyes. “Useful….” Her head snapped involuntarily to the left. “U-U-Use-ful.”
“Almost there,” Honeysuckle said as she stitched the final threads.
Lacey shoved away from Corentin and staggered toward Aliss. “I just wanted to be useful…,” Lacey repeated, and her shoulders jerked again. “Aliss… I wanted to be… u-u-useful….”
Aliss took a step back. She shot a glance from Corentin to Honeysuckle. Corentin noted the glint of her loss of control on the situation.
Lacey tripped and fell into Aliss’s arms. Aliss dropped to her knees, holding her close. She said nothing and ran her fingers through Lacey’s dirty pink hair.
“You need to fix this,” Corentin said over them. “You’ve lied to me. And you did this to her just to break a case. What lies did you tell her?”
Aliss’s lips quirked into an evident frown. She cupped Lacey’s cheeks, trying to meet her gaze. “My sweet girl,” Aliss whispered.
“How are we doing?” Corentin called to Honeysuckle.
Honeysuckle laughed. “Just three more stitches. Three….”
Aliss blinked as Lacey’s jacket fell open. She recoiled and shoved Lacey away.
Corentin stiffened. “What the fuck?”
“Two….” Honeysuckle did another stitch.
Lacey staggered to her feet, and her shoulders jerked.
Corentin swallowed.
Bottles of bubbling potions had been strapped to the entirety of Lacey’s torso. Her distorted grin stayed forever frozen in place, and the tears rolled in streams as her necklace blinked in time.
Corentin spun on his heel and snatched Aliss by the wrist. He caught the terrified glare in Gabrielle’s dark eyes.
“I’m finally useful,” Lacey murmured.
Light consumed them.
May 9
Sheraton Hotel, New Orleans
TAYLOR’S TEMPLES
throbbed as if he had been clubbed with a sledgehammer. He rolled onto his back, concentrating on one ragged breath at a time. His fingers twitched against the scratchy carpet fibers, and his chipped nails caught on the threads.
He blinked, his eyes refusing to focus. Rubbing away the smears clouding his vision, he waited for the fog to pass. He blinked again. A motionless ceiling fan hung encased in ice over his head. Thick icicles clung to the blades, and the ice fanned outward from the base across the ceiling spackle.
A crackle of ice was Taylor’s two-second warning. He jerked upright just as three icicles impaled the carpet where his head used to be.
The gray ball of vertigo crashed against the back of his head. Taylor’s lashes fluttered. Exhaustion was coming for him again. He had to fight through it. He had to get out of this mess and back to Corentin and Idea.
“Ringo?”
He didn’t answer.
“Ringo?” Taylor tried again.
No answer.
“Oh, Storyteller,” Taylor choked back as he scrambled to his feet. “Ringo!” He turned in a circle as he searched for Ringo. Recognizing his prison as some luxury hotel suite came second.