Page 105 of Crown of the Fae King

“Backing a brother in a fight?”

“Aye,” they all said again, then laughed.

“Well, I’m glad you at least have a syllable to use with your winks.”

The meal was a combination of fruit, vegetables, and ribbon sandwiches. The remainder of the conversation was restricted to winks, ayes, and a burp or two. Combined with the laughter and sunshine, it was as rejuvenating as a cup of Sarah’s tea.

The bright sunshinehad me ready for a nap, and I was looking forward to laying my head on the table and resting my eyes for the foreseeable future. But when I reached the study, the Muir brothers were excited about something and danced around while they waited for everyone to show up for our afternoon brainstorm.

Brian practically dragged Wickham through the door, then joined his brother at the head of the room. They had The Covenant projected on the wall again. “We know where the king is!”

Flann rolled his eyes. “Rather, we know where he is not.”

Wickham raised his hand like a good student. “And where is he not?”

“The Fae Realm!”

I nudged Kitch. “Sorry, old man. Looks like your plan is out.”

“All right,” Wickham said. “Tell us.”

Brian threw out his arms. “Obviously, he’s here. In our realm. It’s in The Covenant.” He knocked a knuckle on the image. “Says the Naming Powers must remain in the Realm of Man. The eighth power shall remain with the King, who by necessity must remain as well!”

After a round of applause for our intrepid translators, I laid my head on the table and let the conversation progress without me. Wickham explained how the Grandfather had been living, and wondered if a man who was vain enough to keep the power of Beauty for himself might want to live somewhere more flamboyant than a modest Tudor house away from the general population.

The discussion spun out from there. Finally, I raised my head to add my two cents. “Since we can’t just drive around the neighborhoods of the rich and famous—or beautiful—it looks like our best plan is the original one. Ask a fairy who dwells in this realm. Don’t you think they’d know where their own king lives? Especially if the king is here too?”

“There’s a problem,” Everly said. “Brian and Flann might be wrong.”

Neither man seemed offended. Brian asked, “How’s that?”

“Well, the contract’s been broken for about six years now. That means it would no longer keep him here.”

Brian nodded. “Aye. Unless he doesn’t know it was broken.”

Lots of nodding. Lots of shrugging.

Then I remembered. “That female fairy from Trinity didn’t know, and she was pretty upset about it. Maybe word is spreading. Or maybe she didn’t tell anyone. Who knows? But there is a chance the king knows now, even if he didn’t before. Which means…”

Wickham tipped his head back and sighed. “Which means if we’re going to ask Griffon Carew if he knows where the Fae king is, it needs to be soon.”

The thought of bringing up the subject over the phone made me sick to my stomach. The idea of confronting him about being a fairy wasn’t the conversation I’d hoped to have. I’d wanted to hear more about our love…

Again, I wondered if the woman with the purple eyes had at least warned her family, if she had any family.

I jumped to my feet and backed away from the table, stumbling against my rolling chair, seeing nothing while I tried to flee from my own thoughts. I couldn’t bear to finish the idea forming in my head.

“No!” I bumped into a bookcase, moved around it, held out my hands to catch myself. “No!”

Someone large and immoveable stood in my way.

“Easy lass.” Urban held up his hands, waiting for me to see him.

“Urban?”

“Aye, lass. We’re all here. Ye’re not alone.”

“Urban,” I begged,please don’t let it be true.

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