Page 42 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

Griffon pointed out the doorway. “Death is here, but not there?” He pointed back the way we’d come.

The old one nodded at the second, purple universe. “Death for the High Fae only. It is where ye shall find yer eternal rest. One day. Or today…should ye stumble…or overstay yer welcome. Visitors are expected to remain permanently, if they linger too long.” The twinkle in his eye did not belie his words. Rather, they reinforced them, as if it might give the old fellow a bit of amusement to see such a misstep.

Griffon retreated, putting a safe distance between himself and his ultimate destiny. Then he moved toward the old one’s high desk and inclined his head. “I am grateful for the warning.”

Wickham, Persi, and Urban followed cautiously with Kitch and Flann watching their backs.

The old eyes twinkled again as he looked over the group. The ropes seemed especially amusing. “What do ye seek?”

Wickham opened his mouth to speak, but Griffon hissed and shook his head. It was a reminder. These were Fae. Words could be deadly.

“I do not seek Moire’s Embrace,” Griffon said. “But I do seek someone who might be caught hereagainst nature.”

Other old heads lifted behind the counter made of light. Naps interrupted? Some blinked and frowned. Others took a quick look and disappeared again. One, with long hair, straightened in her seat and came immediately to attention. She whispered something to the first man. He shook his head and turned his shoulder to her.

“This is Moire’s Embrace.” The man lifted his arms, gestured to the walls. “Which of us do you seek?”

There was no one else in the room.

“I seek…enlightenment. Pray, tell me about this place. About the doorways and what lies beyond them.”

After long consideration, the old one nodded. “Eternal rest.” He gestured to where they’d entered. “Unless they are called up again.” He pointed to the other opening. “Rest for the High Fae.”

Griffon nodded to the other doors. “And what would a Fae like me find through those doors?”

The man gestured to the first one. “Ifreann.Purgatory. Punishment.” The second. “Srianadh.Containment. Suspension.” And the third. “Neamhní.Nothingness,the debris of the soulless…” He eyed the group again, the ropes. “Perhaps ye seek to contain these…” He waved his hand as if at a loss for what to call them.

Wickham held his breath, waiting for Griffon’s response. He honestly didn’t know if he’d be able to pop them out again if their High Fae ally turned on them.

Griffon shook his head. “These are under my protection. Now, I was told there are beasts here…”

The woman bobbed her head. “He means the Fae King’s beasts.”

The old man whipped around to hiss at her, raised a hand as if to strike her, but lowered it again when she simply glared at him. “Not your business,” he spat.

“You know much,” Griffon gushed, drawing the man’s attention again. “I believe you must have known the previous King of the Fae.”

The man just smiled.

“Tell me about this pretender.”

“A mere Fae when he was released from his prison, the power of the king when he returned. All must defer to the power of the Fae King.” He shot a cryptic glance toward Persi, then forgot her again.

Griffon turned to Wickham and lowered his voice. “We are running out of time. Do you notice the wall of light thinning? Tell me why he noticed Persi.Now!”

Wickham cursed himself for a fool and surrendered more information to Griffon than he’d intended. “She has the Naming Power of Light and Darkness.”

“And you brought herhere?You’re mad!” He turned to face the bar again. “If someone with power of the Fae King asked wisdom from you?”

“We would answer.”

Griffon waved Persi to him. “Ask him if the Fae King brought an Uncast here. If she’s still here, and where we find her.”

Persi nodded, then turned and gave the old one her most charming smile.

“My lady,” he said, and offered a surprisingly limber bow. “A Fae King who is neither king nor Fae. What would ye ask?”

“Has the Fae King confined an Uncast here?”

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