Page 88 of Bride of the Midnight Prince

I take off, following that scent. Several times, I almost lose it, but every time I slow down, retrace my steps, and I pick it up once more.

The trail ends in an alleyway. I pick my way around debris, broken slats of wood, and jagged bottle caps until I reach the alley’s dead end.

Four bodies lie huddled together, all male. I survey them from the youngest to the oldest. A father and his three sons. The father is missing half of a leg. He is the source of the strange arrangement of footprints I noticed.

Soundlessly, I approach. I crouch before the oldest boy, who sleeps on his side, half in front of his father as though to defend him. Quickly, I lay my hand over his mouth.

He jerks awake. His eyes immediately go white-ringed.

I lean close and whisper, “Come with me and don’t make a sound, or I will kill your father.”

The youth trembles as I release him, but he does what I say. I prod him to walk in front of me to the mouth of the alley. I expect him to start blathering the moment I motion for him to speak. Instead, he remains silent, fingers flexing at his sides.

His time in Faerieland has increased his courage.

“Tell me about the Ivy Mask.” I keep my voice low.

“Or else you will kill my father?” asks the boy.

I don’t intend to kill his father, so I let my silence be taken as affirmation.

He draws a deep breath. His exhalation is shaky. “What do you want to know?”

“What is his name?”

“. . . the Ivy Mask?” the boy replies.

“You do not know his name?”

He shakes his head.

“Then what does he look like?”

He shrugs. “He wore a mask the entire time.”

“His height then.” I sit on an empty crate, drumming my fingers on its splintery side. “His build.”

“He was almost as tall as you,” the boy replies. “Though somewhat slenderer.”

What a little liar. I saw the footprints from the Ivy Mask’s last raid. None of them could have belonged to someone of my height. I withdraw a three-inch blade from my sleeve and twirl it casually on my fingers. The boy visibly swallows. I lean forward. “I think he is a little shorter than what you are describing.”

“He probably is,” he replies. “I was not paying close attention.”

So he remains loyal to the Ivy Mask. I can change that. I can also drag one of his other brothers out here and get him to talk. If they had information that would be crucial in identifying the Ivy Mask and sparing Pavi’s life, I’d do it.

But they don’t have what I need.

I sheathe my knife and jerk my head toward the alleyway. “You’re free to go.”

Chapter 27

Kat

Iwakewithaheadache strong enough to shake the foundations of the world.

“It’s no fun, is it?” rumbles a low voice that comes very close. “Here. Drink this.”

A hand slides under my back and shifts me upright while the world spins. The lip of a warm bowl presses against my lips. I open, and he pours a savory broth into my mouth. When I’m steady enough, I take the bowl in both hands and drink it all greedily. I still can’t bear to open my eyes all the way, but the fog has cleared enough to recognize the prince.

---