Page 35 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

"Oh." Persi sighed. "At least she's got other things to worry about now."

"If Griffon harms her, I'm going to pull him apart, one feather at a time."

"Yeah, well, we'll all have to take turns. I hope he has a lot of feathers."

"It's been two days. Wickham gets worse by the hour."

Persi agreed. "We'd better find her soon or the next head he rips off will be an actual head."

"Okay. Come on. Let's join the others. If I have enough distractions, maybe my stomach will stay down."

They headed for the study but ran into Brian headed in the opposite direction. “They’re outside.” He smirked. “Urban’s idea. I don’t wonder that no one wants to be stuck in a room with Wickham. Bundle up, now. It’s chilly this mornin’.”

Everly perked up. “Cold fresh air. Just what I need.”

Outside, the team was scattered around the furniture at the bottom of the steps. Persi noticed none of her friends were sitting within reach of Wickham, who paced like a leopard along the far edge of the concrete. She hoped her little suggestion was about to make the man happy—or if not happy, at least bearable again.

“Before we start,” he said, forcing himself to stand still. “I want to apologize if I’ve—”

“Nonsense,” Urban barked. “Get on with it.”

Wickham’s shoulders lowered. He nodded, and even managed a smile. “If Griffon has both Lennon and Fallon, he’s the number one priority. Our only move now is to find a Fae who can take us to him.”

Kitch scowled. “I thought he was the only Fae we knew.”

Wickham shook his head. “His sister’s replacement, remember? The one at Trinity College. She was with Carew when we ran into him in Dublin. She has to know something.”

Persi waved her fingers to get Wickham’s attention. “I remembered something else. That first night we let Lennon go to dinner with him—with you and me, we told him we’d been at Lymington. He said he’d been at Yarmouth, that Lennon could have gone to the top of the lighthouse and waved at him across the Solent. If he’s Welsh, what was he doing on the Isle of Wight? His family can’t be there, can they?”

“Yarmouth is relatively small,” Kitch said, and gave her a stealthy wink. “We could search it in a day.”

“Excellent.” Wickham looked for Ivy. “Everly’s not well. Maybe ye could stay with her…” He was distracted by his phone and answered it. “What?” Obviously frustrated, he nodded over and over, though the person on the other end couldn’t see him. “Aye, aye. I understand. Tell him I understand.” He stuck the phone in his pocket and started running for the side of the house. “Ye willnae believe this!”

Persi grabbed Kitch’s hand and followed with the rest of the team. They ran between the carriage house and the manor and kept going until they reached the gate at the end of the drive.

Wickham danced impatiently while the front gates ground open. Persi and the crew crowded around him as he stepped off the property, though he waited at the edge of the road. The sound of an approaching car gave her wild hope that Lennon was coming back to them. Maybe she and Griffon had figured out she wasn’t a DeNoy after all, and it was all just a big misunderstanding.

An old black Rolls Royce came steadily up the road with dried leaves twirling in the wind from the wheels. Persi held her breath as it neared and released it when it passed with nothing more than a curious glance from its only passenger, the driver.

Wickham tilted his head back and searched the sky, telling them all who he was expecting.

Would Griffon bring her back? Or was he coming to give them bad news? The anticipation tightened Persi’s chest and threatened to bring up her breakfast. The threat grew worse when she heard Everly retching nearby, but she was determined to face Griffon first. After all, she’d been planning his death for the past two days like everyone else, and if they were going to destroy him, she wasn’t going to miss a minute of it.

They heard him before they saw him. The thunder of massive, beating wings came from the south, then the north. The play of the wind made it impossible to predict which direction he would ultimately come from.

Persi’s hand flew to the handle of her dagger at the same time she heard Kitch’s silver blade clear its sheath. Each member of the team held a blade, including Everly. Wickham’s hands, however, were planted firmly on his waist. But Wickham had other weapons…

The flapping ceased and a dark, dragon-like form drifted down out of the clouds above them. There was not one body but two dangling between the wings. Griffon in the center, Annag to one side. Fallon’s grandmother!

Griffon landed gently and the great wings folded in upon themselves and disappeared. Once Annag’s feet were firmly planted, he released her. In his other arm, a large, rolled up blanket shifted. He bent to touch one end on the ground, then began unwrapping something—something with long blond hair, blue eyes, and a grin far too big for such a little girl.

“Can we do it again?” She put one hand against Griffon’s cheek. “I didn’t get to see any of it.”

“Another day, love.” Squatting beside her, Griffon wrapped his arms around her and hugged her, then he let her go and stood. “You remember some of these folks,” he said. “They’ve promised to find you some friends to play with.” He looked at Wickham and raised an eyebrow.

Wickham nodded. “I’ve a pair of laddies in the house who are as eager for a new playmate as ye must be.”

Fallon took a step, but Griffon put a hand on her shoulder to keep her from moving away from him. “Not until our deal is struck.”

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