Page 43 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

“No Uncast.”

“You’re right, of course. The one we seek is a DeNoy. Did the Fae King leave a DeNoy here?”

“He did.”

“Show us.”

He shook his head. “She is gone again.”

“Did she escape?”

“She did not try.”

“Is she alive?”

“I cannot say.”

Persi smiled harder. “Was she alive when she left?”

“She was.”

“Has the Fae King left anyone else here?”

“His army…and a host of witches…like yerselves.”

“And if I asked you to release that host to me?”

“I must obey anyone with the power of the Fae King.”

Persi nodded and the team huddled together around Wickham. “Orion’s army is here. We can probably destroy it if they’ll let us.”

Wickham shook his head. “We may not have time.Lennonmay not have time.”

As if illustrating his words, the golden light dimmed and paled another degree.

Persi turned back to the bench. “May my companions and I have more time?”

To the delight of the old woman, the fellow reached under his desk and produced an hourglass, which he shook once before tipping it on its head and setting it on the counter. The walls, the floor, the desk, grew instantly more opaque, and he preened. “I have given ye more time.”

Persi thanked him. “Please release into my care the host of witches like us. Alive.”

The man smirked. “It is not for us to decide life and death, only to assign destinations.”

Wickham grabbed Griffon’s arm. “I can’t pop out of here. I can’t get any of us out.”

Griffon bowed to the old man. “May I open a door, sir, so the host may depart with us?”

“A lord such as yerself need not ask.”

Griffon nodded his thanks, then drew a line in the air beside him. An empty road lay beyond it. The familiar incline, the bare limbs, the dried leaves all told Wickham it was near Hope House. As near as Griffon could get on his own.

The middle door behind the counter slid open. They waited a long minute for something to emerge. Finally, a steady line of people poured out of the dark and came around the sides of the high desk. All ages. Adults carrying children, children leading children. They winced at the light but kept coming.

Griffon waved them close and held the conjured door open for them. “Don’t go far. We’ll join you shortly.”

Children and adults alike began to weep with relief. Tears pricked the backs of Wickham’s eyes too, knowing how happy Lennon would be to learn they’d rescued Muirsglen’s missing. He just prayed he’d have a chance to tell her.

The parade went on forever, it seemed. Wickham had tried to keep track, but he’d stopped counting after a hundred and fifty, watching instead the sand in the hourglass. Two-thirds had run out. Finally, when no others came out of the dark doorway, Persi asked if there were any left.

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