Page 32 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

I have no proof yet that the Ivy Mask uses this stretch of the Wood. He could be in Aursailles or another border kingdom. With Ash’s errand, I didn’t have a choice to come to Harbright instead of Aursailles, nor did I have the choice of which city within Harbright would be the capital. But if Ihadbeen able to choose, I would have chosen exactly here. I do not know of any other part of the Wood with this tight concentration of Paths. If I were the Ivy Mask, this would be exactly the place I would use.

I pause at the entrance to the Nothril Path, staring through the branches of the Wood down the winding length of its golden trail. I’ve yet to encounter a human who can see Paths, and yet I must assume the Ivy Mask can. How else can he navigate from Court to Court? Not even fae choose to navigate through the ever-shifting Wood without a Path.

Usually, I rely on my sense of smell to hunt quarry. That was how I found Pavi so quickly. But even the mask left behind from the Ivy Mask, which sits in a drawer in my desk, didn’t have an easily traceable scent. That is an impressive feat for a human.

I ought to be frustrated. Instead, energy bubbles to life inside me. Will this hunt give me a challenge for once? It’s been so, so long since I’ve experienced the true thrill of pursuit. The way my blood rushes when I’m closing in on a difficult quarry.

Still, my sense of smell isn’t wholly useless. The Ivy Mask wasn’t the only one to escape. Lord Nothril gave me a piece of his slave’s clothes. I search for that scent now, following the miles of forest edge.

Suddenly, I catch it.

The rush returns. I follow that scent until I come across exactly the proof I need.

Hidden in the underbrush, halfway tucked into Caphryl, is a small, wooden cart. The slave’s scent is strong here, along with several other human scents that come with a tinge of Nothril. A slow smile curves my mouth. The Ivy Maskdoesuse this stretch of Wood.

It won’t be long now until I catch him.

I investigate the driver’s seat. There is no scent here except that of dusty wood. I scratch the back of my neck. How did he manage that? Does he have fae blood that allows him to glamour away his scent? Or have we been wrong to assume that he is human?

I regard the towering Wood, the darkened stretch of farmland, and the sliver of sparking soil in between. Perhaps all this time, it has been a fae conducting these raids. Whether this fae lives in disguise in the human lands, or stays in his own part of the world, I do not know yet.

But I know how to find out.

I step onto the Nothril Path. The pressure of the human world’s air immediately vanishes. I breathe deeply of the sweet Faerie air. With its power flowing in my veins, I weave my spell across the entrance to the glowing Path. Then I step back over the border and head to the next Path. I set my trap along every Path in the vicinity.

Now when someone steps inside Caphyrl from the human lands, I’ll know. If the Ivy Mask strikes a Court without triggering my spell, I’ll know my quarry lives in Faerieland.

I finish as the sun crests over the horizon. It’s time to return to the manor.

I think of the young woman sleeping in the adjoining room to mine.Nat,I must refer to her as, since I don’t have her real name—yet. Briefly, I forget the intensity that hits me when I cross into the human world. I get to go from toying with one quarry to another. I can be mentally challenged and stimulated by one, and the other I can just play with for the enjoyment of it. She is completely harmless, after all, judging by her embarrassing performance chopping wood yesterday.

I havemanyquestions for her to answer.

Am I actually excited for these next few days?

I shake my head, fighting the twist of my mouth as I spread my wings and launch into the sky.

Edvearisright.Thewooded creek is the best part of this estate. Taking an early morning dip in its cold waters is exactly the rejuvenation I need after my long night. I grab my tunic off the bank and sling it over my wet shoulder as I climb out of the stream and enjoy the grass beneath my bare toes. The death cycle of the human world has stifled its magic and flow of energy, but with my feet flat against the earth, I can discern a tingling source—suppressed, but still moving.

As I step into the manor, Edvear’s faint hiss from a few rooms down greets me. “Master Rahk is returning. Go to his chambers to serve him.”

“Returning?” comes Nat’s reply. “Where did he go?”

“Where he goes is not your concern. Only what he needs of you. Now hurry!”

I pause just inside the doorway as Nat’s light footsteps hurry down the hallway to my right. I’ll give her a few minutes of head start. Silently, I shake my head. If she truly is a spy of Queen Vivienne’s, I think I will actually laugh at the sheer ridiculousness. They could not have sent a more incompetent spy.

The door to my bedchamber creaks when I push it open.

A hot breakfast is laid out on the table and the smell is unexpectedly appetizing. On the other side of the room, half of Nat’s body is visible outside the wardrobe as she selects something to go with the black tunic already laid out on the bed.

“Black and more black!” she huffs, apparently not having heard me enter. “And there’s the token dark blue tunic. Everyone is going to be afraid of him if he dresses like this!”

“Will they?” I drawl.

She lets out a squeak of surprise, bangs her head on the wardrobe door, and pulls herself upright. Her tied back hair is already mussed, her freckles standing out sharply as her eyes meet mine. Her gaze travels down to my torso and widens significantly. Color rises into her pale cheeks. I’ve already forgotten that I’m holding my shirt instead of wearing it.

I want to swipe a hand down my face. How can her subterfuge bethisterrible?

---