Page 39 of Kisses at the Crossroads

“Bring the Fae here. Let us see for ourselves.” The judge points to Drake.

Drake grinds his teeth. His shoulders drop, but he nods and does as the judge asks.

I suck in a breath when a cage containing Lark enters the circle with us. He’s soaked to the bone still and gasping for breath. “A little warning next time.”

I have to hide my smile. My Lark hasn’t lost his spark.

Murmurs rise all around.

“As you can see,” I start. “There are several layers of spells. The Fae’s brother can’t even see him, can you?”

“He’s here again?” Wren asks, looking around. I take his hand and squeeze.

“He is.” I glare at Drake. “I thought Drake just attached his lifespan to the Fae’s, but that’s not the entirety of it.”

“Shut up,” Drake growls. “Or you’ll regret it.”

“Pssh.” I wave him off and continue to address the judges. “Drake also siphons life force from the Fae, stealing his magic. Drake is not this powerful. He can’t work his magic to make all those brews you love so much without the Fae.”

More mumbles and murmurs.

“And they’ve been getting weaker, haven’t they?”

“They have!” someone yells from the stands. “They don’t buzz any more. There’s hardly any magic at all in them. Not worth the money, if you ask me.”

Drake’s lips twitch. “New recipe.”

“Bullshit.” I slam my hand on the nearest table. “The Fae has found a way to counteract the siphon making you weaker.”

“Impossible.” Drake crosses his arms over his chest. “Trick isn’t smart enough to figure it out.”

“Let’s not insult the intelligence of the boy, Drake,” the judge says.

I pace as I think. “Your honor, familiars are allowed by the coven, however, slaves are not, correct?”

“You are correct. Our familiars help us, but we do not use their magic for our own gain without their explicit permission. We use our born talents. If the witch isn’t as strong as they wish to be, they are to educate themselves. We take pride in the fact that only we use our born talents.” They write a few notes. “That is, of course, not counting the help of our demon brethren in the creation of the veil to hide Hex from prying human eyes. Sometimes one does need help, but that’s not to say we should create a permanent tap of magic from another being. That is despicable.”

The crowd agrees, making the noise level rise until the judge raises their hand. “Hush. Hush. We will bring justice down on Drake’s head.”

“The Fae agreed to be my servant!”

I snort.

Lark yelps when he grabs the bars of his cage. “I didn’t know the language! You can’t say I agreed if I didn’t know what you were saying!”

Again, the judge raises their hand for silence. “Fae, tell me exactly what happened.”

Lark settles on his bottom and pulls his knees to his chest. “Everything?”

“From the beginning of your enslavement, yes.”

Lark nods. “Very well. On the day I was captured, my brother just got initiated as a courtesan in the Winter court. I ran off with a boy once the celebration party started. We wanted to…” He nibbles his bottom lip and goes pink all the way down to his chest. “We’ll I wanted my first kiss and maybe more. I was fifteen.” He starts to rock as he continues. “We flew to my favorite meadow. As we touched down, we got tangled in each other and laughed as we rolled down a hill.

“I tried to get to my feet, but tripped. When I finally got up, I was in an unknown cornfield. Drake stood there, smiling. He said something in a language I didn’t know at the time and it sounded so nice I nodded. I thought he was asking if I needed help. But he wasn’t. He had shackles I hadn’t noticed and snapped them on me. As soon as he did, he pricked my finger and squeezed a drop of blood into a goblet. He stirred the liquid with something, drank half, then forced me to drink the other. The rest… well, I’ve lived in the basement of Flutter the last five years while performing on stage while being forced to glow. The five years before that, I lived in the dining room of his house with the insistent ticking of the grandfather clock. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. Tick?—”

“Okay,” the judge says the word gently, but Lark jerks like he’s been slapped. “What do you say to all this, Drake?”

“Lies. What?—”

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