Page 54 of Crown of the Fae King

“How many copies of The Covenant exist?”

Another page jumped to life, leaving the bug’s page alone in front of me. It, too, went directly to the largest book and danced a little while it waited for the heavy cover to open and the right page to present itself. Instead of diving for the spine, though, it sort of snuggled in. The other pages spread over it, like so many blankets, then the heavy cover fell shut with a thud.

I nodded at the last page, “Anything else? We’ve got one last page here.”

Wickham growled with frustration. “I shall kick myself after we’ve gone, when I think of other questions.”

“I have a feeling we’re not going to be able to do this again. If fairy alarms go off after we step back into Time, or whatever, they’ll think of a better way to protect these.”

“Aye. They will.” After a minute, he nodded, then spoke gently to the last page. “Who was the first Grandfather to the clan of Muir witches?”

Nothing. No movement at all. And the little bug went back to being a little bug with no face. The rest of the faces faded and disappeared from the illustrations on all the pages, though the others still held their places in the books.

“Either the answer isn’t here, or we’re only allowed to ask so many.” I ran my hand over the paper one last time, took a picture with my phone, and gently moved it back into its box. “Thank you,” I whispered. A little thrill ran through me when I noticed the tiny flutter of a pale green leaf.

Wickham returned to the first book, skimmed for a few seconds, then pulled out his phone and started taking pictures. He snapped about a dozen shots before he closed the cover and handed the bookmark back to me. He did the same with the other two bookmarks. Plenty of pictures taken, with him checking each time to make sure the images had been captured.

I checked mine. Four clear pages, though no faces.

Reluctantly, he placed the books back into their boxes while I added the last page to mine. “Thanks again,” I said, and closed the lid with a loud snap.

Wickham checked his phone again.

“Still there?”

“Aye. Let us hope they stay.”

We put the boxes back, counted them, and made sure the one with the bookmarks stayed at the front before we locked the bar back into place. We even spread things out on the table again, hoping no one would remember how things lay before.

Before stepping back into the narrow row, I reached up and ripped off the tail of the little blue strip of tape. The part that readdo not touchwent into my pocket.

Hidden by the shelves, Wickham took us back into the flow of Time. Two steps from the librarian was all I heard before we popped back to headquarters.

The landing room was empty. Wickham hurried out the door, eyes on his phone. I hurried after him, though I’d been advised to take it very easy for a few weeks. By the time I caught up with him in the war room, he was already downloading the pictures onto his computer.

He looked up and grinned at everyone still sitting in their seats, as if we’d only been gone a matter of minutes. “Lennon, why don’t ye entertain this lot with our outrageous tale whilst I go collect Brian and Flann? Best call my sisters in as well, so ye needn’t tell it twice.” And he was gone.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that,” I said, staring at the suddenly empty space last filled by a dark-headed Scotsman.

“I havenae,” Kitch said, rising from his chair. “I’ll go fetch the sisters.”

I had just finished explainingwhat had happened that morning when we heard men’s voices and footsteps on the stairs. Wickham, Brian, and Flann strolled into the study with books under their arms. The older men were flushed with excitement. Their eyes lit up when they caught sight of Lorraine and Loretta seated on a loveseat Urban and Kitch had carried in from the living room.

Wickham made introductions. To me, he said, “Did ye tell them?”

“Yeah. I did. But I don’t think they believed me.”

He laughed and pointed his thumb at the Muir brothers. “Those two are determined to see it themselves, no matter what I say.”

“Did you tell them that might be dangerous now?”

“I did. They have promised to wait until we’ve finished with our hunt.”

The mention of hunting fairies reminded me of the female Wickham said was dead. I’d been distracted by the enchanted bookmarks, but I wasn’t distracted anymore.

Something must have shown on my face because he was immediately concerned and grabbed my arm. “What is it, lass?”

“This isn’t the time—”

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