Page 75 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

“This place is a fucking cesspool,” I muttered.

“I love it,” Bael said without a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

I caught the gleam in his unnerving yellow eyes, and I shook my head. “That?” I gestured pointedly to a group of ramshackle buildings, crumbling under the weight of their red-stone roofs. “You lovethat?”

“There’s a strong energy here, don’t you think?”

“If by ‘energy’ you mean ‘chaos,’ then yes. It’s quite strong.”

My cousin was far too happy to be here, and it was setting my teeth on edge. As far as I was concerned, we would find Lonnie and get the fuck out of here. Bael, however, seemed a bit too at home.

“You do remember why the fuck were here, right?” I muttered as we passed a ramshackle tavern.

“Yes, of course,” Bael replied, the humor falling from his tone. “You do not need to keep reminding me that it has been nearly a week since we saw our mate. I feel it as much as you do.”

I ground my teeth. I didn’t like it when he said “our mate” as if it were fact, but for once I let it go. As long as he was focused on the point of our visit, and not distracted by the revolting spectacle of the unseelie city, that was all that mattered.

*

As we walked further along the road, a group of red-robed men tumbled out of the tavern we’d just passed. I stopped, and looked back at them, unease crawling up my spine.

I knew fucking soldiers when I saw them, armor or not.

“Wait,” I motioned for Bael to stop. “Look.”

He turned and followed my gaze. The red-robed soldiers were lounging outside the tavern, drinking from tankards that caught the dying light, making the liquid inside look like molten gold.

“King’s lap dogs seem to be enjoying themselves,” I observed, my lips curling in distaste.

Bael raised a skeptical brow. “You think those are guards?”

“Definitely.”

“Hmmm,” Bael hummed, his voice tinged with a dark amusement. “And to think, I thought your uniform was the ugliest one imaginable.”

“Shut the fuck up, I’m being serious.”

“As am I,” my cousin replied. “If that’s what the guards here wear, then don’t you think we might stand out at the harbor? Your armor screams ‘Fae nobility’ louder than a banshee at a funeral.”

I glanced sideways at him. Bael might not have been destined for the throne, but he was every bit as dangerous as any royal I’d ever known. He also wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to pretend otherwise. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Trust me,” Bael said with a flash of his sharp teeth in a semblance of a smile. “When have I ever led us astray?”

“More times than I care to count,” I shot back.

“Then what’s one more time to add to the list?”

I sighed, and looked down at my own shiny stone armor, before reluctantly nodding.

He was right, but trading the armor I’d worn religiously for years outside the palace was not something I looked forward to. I’d already had to send Quill away, telling him to circle the area outside the Hedge and wait for us. It seemed that this mission was determined to strip everything from me.

The alleybehind the tavern was a narrow gash between two hulking buildings. The uneven cobblestones were slick with garbage, the remnants of ale, and other less savory liquids. I pressed my back against the cold stone wall, my eyes scanning the back door.

“How long do you think it would take to sail from Inbetwixt around to Underneath?”

“By boat?” Bael mused, his yellow eyes reflecting the last light of the sun as it bled away into dusk. “Days. Perhaps a week?”

I nodded sullenly. That was what I’d thought.

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