Page 59 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

Somehow,ImissedtheIvy Mask. I traced him into the Revar Court and back, only to discover a crude but clever trap left for me. I was too preoccupied by investigating the mud and scuff marks left in the bark of the oak to see the rope trigger until I’d already stepped on it.

I was certain I’d catch him tonight.

At least I have confirmation now that the Ivy Mask lives in the human world. In this very city. How he has managed to disguise his scent is beyond me.

But I will get to the bottom of it. I will find him.

While it is still dark, I return to the Wood. From the sky, its edge glitters brightly. The Wood is receding faster, already leaving several paces of restored land. I find the scent trail of Faerieland and follow it through the fields to a rise, and beyond toward the city. There are not many footprints, but the ones that I come across on the outskirts of town seem to indicate one of the slaves was only using one foot and supported by another.Interesting.Wounded? Maimed? Something else?

The trail goes to the coach like the last one, but it takes an unusual detour first—at the cathedral. There are so many scents here that I barely maintain my grip on the escaped slaves’ scents. If they met with anyone here, it is impossible to discern who. Perhaps they came to honor their saints before they left the city.

I arrive on foot at the stop for the coach. A sheltered bench sits a few feet away from the road. A man wrapped in a patchwork coat sleeps there. I draw on my glamours and shift away my long ears, soften my face, and take a few inches off my height. I haven’t tried maintaining a glamour this demanding in a while, and never within the human world. It proves startlingly difficult, but I manage it.

I kneel next to the man and shake him awake.

“Eh? What’s the matter?” he grunts between missing teeth. “I don’t sell the coach tickets.”

“Has anyone come here in the last few hours?” I ask.

“How would I know?” he grumbles, pulling his coat tighter around his throat.

“Answer my question.” My glamours struggle against my hold, and I clench my fist to keep them in place.

“Ugh!” The man rolls over on the bench. “There were some boys and their papa it seemed. The papa looked like he got his leg bit off or somethin’. They must have left an hour or two ago. Now will you let me sleep?”

I step away, falling into the shadows between buildings as my glamour breaks. I exhale hard and press a hand to my chest. This human world is going to be the death of me.

But I am not done exercising my magic tonight.

The man returns to sleep, his back to the road. I use my foot to draw a rune in the dirt. It is the sister spell of the one I left at the edge of the Wood. I draw the last line of the rune, and it comes to life with a flare of blue that only I can see.

There.

I return to the darkened shadows of the city. They become my shroud as I take the way I came. When I am far enough away from the more populated parts of town, I release the glamour on my wings—sagging in the bliss of it—and fly the rest of the way to my estate.

The sun is still an hour or two from rising when I arrive. Smoke already billows from several of the chimneys, and the rooster lets out strangled crows.

I think of Nat and her pale face last night at the sight of my wound. The poor thing wouldn’t last a day in Faerieland if she couldn’t tolerate that small bit of blood. Even Pavi can stand much more than that, and Pavi is much younger—relatively speaking—than Nat.

I slip inside the open window to my study and let out a great sigh as I settle into my chair. What a busy night! And it will be a busy day, for there is a certain heiress I’ve decided to pay a visit to.

My vision clouds slightly. I lean my head into my palm, finally admitting to myself that I am tired. Maybe I will let myself have an hour of rest or so . . .

Kat

Idragmyselfoutof bed, blinking my blurry eyes and dressing in the dark. I never appreciated how early servants wake each morning! Had I realized, I never would have taken a single wink of sleep for—

A shadow passes across my window. The prince?

I go still.

It was so fast, like a cloak tossed over the setting crescent moon. I’m fully awake the instant I rush to the window and peer out of it.

I’m just in time to see five hooded figures pass out of view.

Not the prince.

Alertness rushes through my blood. I pull away from the window. Are they fae come to hunt down their stolen slaves? Did I leave a trail after all? My hand covers my mouth.

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