Page 58 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

He chuckled. “I don’t think you will need to practice that.”

“Oh? Are you saying I need to practice something else?” I was willing to pretend our kissing needed a little perfecting, but that could wait until later.

“Not exactly. You’re not going to like it, but I think we should get the unpleasant things over with early on.”

I stomped down the snowless steps. “I noticed you got me out the door before saying the wordunpleasant.”

“I’m clever that way.”

Again, we headed back out to the “safe zone.”

“You want me to melt the snow on the road?”

“No more fire today. Just relax.” He chewed his lip a minute. “I want you to give Hank to me—”

“He’ll throw a fit.”

“I’ll give him right back.”

My head was already shaking. “You can’t touch him. I mean it. You don’t want to.”

“I will only touch the cotton.”

“Okay,” I said,you asked for it.I made a mental apology to Hank as I pulled him out of my bra, then braced myself for another screech and set him in Griffon’s cupped hands.

At least my hands were free to cover my ears, though Hank’s outrage rang in my brain too. But poor Griffon could only grimace.

He looked at me and shouted, “Forgive me!” Then he grabbed the cracked plastic and pulled it off, leaving Hank lying naked on his tiny white blanket.

The screech was replaced by a low growl, like someone had turned the knob on a gas stove, going from full flame to a shallow blue ring.

“What have you done?”

20

You Cannot Brace For This

My heart pounded, outraged at Griffon’s betrayal. But as the volume of the noise in my head lowered, I was able to think clearly, to see clearly why he’d done it. He’d brought me to Finland to experiment, and we couldn’t figure out Hank’s purpose if I kept him sealed away, wrapped in a handkerchief, and tucked in my bra.

I just hoped my pet rock could do something more helpful than make noise.

Trying to chase the taste of resentment out of my mouth, I joked, “I think he prefers being naked.”

Griffon’s worried forehead smoothed, and the corner of his mouth lifted. “You forgive me, then, for ripping off the plaster?” He meant band-aid.

“I do. You’ll owe me some lip service, obviously.”

“Obviously.” He braced his feet apart and ignored the growling. “You don’t have to tell me what happened when you touched the star stone the first time. But we—you—have to trust that there is a purpose here. Whether you admit it or not, Hank is the key to unlocking—”

“Wait.” I briefly told him about the times we’d found mentions of DeNoy being locked or unlocked. “Flann found The Noy listed in a book. The Noy, not DeNoy. They have to mean the same thing. But I’d almost forgotten—the book was about thedifferent breeds of the Fae!So, that means I am Fae. Whether Wickham could see it or not.” I swallowed a lump in my throat. “I’m Fae.”

To suspect was one thing. To know was a whole other ballgame. I was…I was part of a magical race. And silly as it might be, I looked down at my body and honestly expected to sprout wings or something.

“Easy, love. You’re not breathing.”

I nodded, then shook my head to get back to my original line of thought. “In the book, it talked about the Noy being so ancient their true names were lost…and that they—we—are the only ones who can unlock the stars and the heavens.” I looked at my little star stone. “I think this tells me which stars I can unlock. The stones in your sister’s room had no jewels in them, but there were holes. Most of them had different patterns.”

“Sounds like myth, but we are creatures of myth. However, that doesn’t address your own locking or unlocking.”

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