Page 59 of Faerie Trials

He flipped through a stack of papers, and briefly I caught the flash of a color photograph. One of the same ones Selene had shown us during one of our meetings for the Claw & Fang. I saw a close-up of the second victim. There were pages of notes, probably more interviews than just mine.

“I’m not sure what you want me to say to that.”

“One last thing before we let you go,” Rooker stated. “We know you’re a halfling, of course. An orphan. And we know from your initial citizenship questions that your mother was Fae. What was her name? And who—or rather what—was your father?”

My insides screamed at me to keep the information to myself. Sitting there, staring at their faces, I knew one way or another they would extract the info from me. Whether I wanted them to or not.

23

Mike must have worked his magic, because when I returned to school the next day, shaken, I was promptly informed by Miss Wicks that I was still eligible to compete in the Trials due to extenuating circumstances.

If one could call a murderer on the loose and finding the latest body anextenuating circumstance.

The woman stared down at me with her long neck craned and her thin fingers twitching. “You do know this is outside of the ordinary, Miss Alderidge.”

“Is it?” I asked. Every part of me drooped. My school uniform hung limp and wrinkled on my shoulders and I hadn’t showered. I was exhausted and numb and my chest felt heavy as if carrying a boulder inside of it.

Miss Wicks shook her head. Her body hunched and I was every second more reminded of a spider when I looked at her.

“It was a lucky roll of the dice for you,” she continued.

Lucky.Right.I kept my face void of all expression. It didn’t take a genius to know what she was thinking. She thought I was somehow cheating, or I had outside help. She wasn’t exactly wrong.

I didn’t want to ask for more details. I didn’t want to stir the pot of crap any more than it was already swirling.

With a small nod, I thanked Miss Wicks and hurried on to my first class, knowing we’d have an assembly later to announce the results of the first Trial and the preparation for round two. My mind constantly circled back to the conversation with the bureau agents last night.

Your parents’ names, Miss Alderidge. Now. Rooker wasn’t going to tolerate any more bullshit answers from me. His expression was fierce. I must have spent enough time with him by now to be able to discern the slight changes in his rock-like appearance. The look he wore now I called hisshakedown scowl.

What would they say if I told them I didn’t know my mother’s last name? Only her first name.

My parents are both dead. I’d tried to make him understand, even knowing the pleading had no effect.

Then giving us their names won’t matter, will it?

I’d hesitantly given over my mother’s first name.Dey. Claiming truthfully how I didn’t know the last name because I’d been so young when she died. Afterward, my uncle did everything in his power to keep her part of my ancestry a secret; we didn’t discuss her at all. There were no pictures of her anywhere in the house, let alone any of the three of us together.

Neither of the agents was happy with only her first name. Apparently “Dey” was a common enough Faerie name. They’d demanded to know my “human” father’s name as well. I didn’t know what difference it would make, so I told them.Baronne.

Now they knew as much as I did and that didn’t sit well with me. Names held a certain power anywhere you went, but especially in Faerie. Knowing someone’s or something’s true name gave you knowledge, which also gave you some power and control.

I replayed the interrogation over and over in my head until it became blurred. Everything blurred after a while, a tension headache taking up residence between my eyes and staying there, making it hard to think. Hard to focus.

Fingers snapped in front of my eyes and I blinked, struggling to focus.

“I asked what you think about our plan for the second Trial,” Mike said, studying me with clear concern.

Did I look bad enough to warrant his expression? Yeah, probably so.

I blew out a breath, pushing the hair out of my eyes, blinking again until the fuzz cleared. “Um…I think it’s a good plan,” I told him.

What had we been talking about?

“It’s getting late and we need to make sure we know exactly what we’ll be doing to beat this one. Cleverness.” Mike shook his head and the lines deepened between his eyebrows. “Who thinks up these things?”

“Who thought growing a tree from a seed would somehow exemplify and validate Justice? The same kind of sadists who have planned these Trials in the past. Trust me, I’ve seen some doozies.”

“Oh, yeah. You’ve been working through some of these with your tutor, haven’t you?”

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