Page 11 of Crown of Tides and Fury

“He’s not that kind of Fae—”

“Enough.” She pushed me the last few inches out the door. “Leave me be.”

I went outside to spell Wickham. Kitch had beaten me to it. “No sign of them?”

Kitch shook his head. “You get any sleep?”

“Some.” I gestured to the building behind me. “Someone sent Annag a note. I wondered if you noticed who delivered it.”

“Plenty of solos going inside. I cannae say I’ve noticed anyone popping back out again. Maybe whoever delivered it is still inside. What did the note say?”

“She wouldn’t tell me. Just shooed me out of her room and told me to leave her alone.”

“Understandable. She’s likely not slept—”

“No. It was definitely the note that set her off.”

He scowled, nodded. “I’ll have a look around the parking lot again.”

“And I’ll go stare down the customers.”

As it turned out, I only made the staff nervous when I took up the coffee pot again and started circulating through the dining room. My heart thumped a whole lot harder when I started looking for an older gentleman in a tan coat. Now, I was certain it had been Griffon in disguise, watching us, trying to learn what we were after.

But my heart pounded in vain. The older man wasn’t there.

A low boom, from somewhere outside, made the windows shudder. The place went silent while folks grabbed their tables and held on. A couple seconds later, everyone went running for the door. Outside, a plume of smoke rose on the far side of our cottage. Kitch was already halfway there, running flat out.

Wickham! Persi!

As if summoned by my worry, my two friends stumbled out the front door of the little white structure. With Kitch, they hurried around to the far corner and disappeared. As the crowd and I got close, we realized the explosion had come not from the cottage, but from an outbuilding a hundred yards to the northwest. My friends stood back a good fifty feet, scanning the bits and pieces of what used to be a shed.

No hint of a fence or animals. Nothing at all.

A distraction? For the crowd? Or for us?

Wickham spun around and locked eyes with me as if wondering the same thing. He barked at Kitch and Persi, and the four of us turned and ran for the restaurant.

* * *

It was nearlyimpossible to watch the sky and run at the same time, but I did my best. There was no sign of bronze wings or little girls in nightgowns either above us or on the ground. We could easily see the parking lot, the cliff’s edge, and even the tower rock as we rushed back to the Sea Witch. I kept waiting for Annag to ring the bell, to let us know Fallon was back, but there was no sign of her, either.

Maybe she’s in the shower…

We didn’t bother explaining as we crashed through the door and hustled up the stairs.

“Wait,” I told Wickham, when he reached for the door at the end of the hall. “She might not be decent.”

I knocked, said her name, then pushed the door open. There was no sound from the bathroom. The bedroom had been tossed. My eye caught on a wad of paper on the floor under the edge of the bed. I retrieved it, smoothed it a little, then read it aloud.

Pack a bag for you both.

Outside. Top of the hour.

Tell no one.

Wickham tookthe paper from me, glanced at the words, then wadded it up and threw it at the window. “Dammit!”

I found Fallon’s room next to her grandmother’s. It had been ransacked too, but carefully. The front of a doll house stood open, as did a drawer. A pile of discarded clothes lay on the floor of the closet. Though some green and blue ribbons rested in a bunch on the bed, there was no sign of the stuffed animals that had hung over her birthday table.

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