Page 12 of A Fae in Finance
At least I didn’t have to make small talk with Jeff as the horses turned north on Sixth Avenue.
Tourists stared in awe as we rode down the street, and a kid on the sidewalk did a double take when he saw us, but for the most part, the native New Yorkers had seen weirder. I worried about Doctor Kitten for a moment—he didn’t like to be alone for too long—but I’d be home later tonight, and he’d get to ignore me to his heart’s content.
We entered the upper fifties, and I wondered if we were headed for Central Park. No one had confirmed it, but people said there was an entrance to Faerie somewhere inside.
Sure enough, the horses crossed 59th Street, going north up Center Drive. The sickle moon, weirdly visible hours before sunset, disappeared behind a cloud and was suddenly gone. The moment we passed between the low stone walls, the air around us quieted, like the squirrels and pigeons were preparing for a performance. The world darkened, the trees thicker and the sky more velvet than gray. I could hear Jeff wheezing ahead of me.
The trees grew harder to avoid on horseback. A branch softly brushed my face, and then another, and I closed my eyes to avoid getting poked.
I felt Sparkles turn, stepping off the path. A rush of air brought wafts of heather and mown grass; everything felt subtly different and simultaneously unchanged, like we were a toy race car jumping from one track to another.
I opened my eyes, and gasped. Itwasstill the park… but it wasn’t. The colors had brightened so I could see—not like daylight, but like a movie set, with muted light throughout the open area in front of us. There was a wide plain laid out at Sparkles’s feet; it ended abruptly at a wall of trees on the horizon. I could see each trunk, the moss growing up from rich dark earth, the shifting shadows made by rustling leaves.
And there was no moon. Stars spun overhead in silver whorls; filaments of liquid mercury spilled across the black velvet sky.
I felt the breath catch in my chest.Faerie.The wide, hard-packed patch of dirt before me wasFaerie.
We’d come out—in?—a few yards from a long wooden table, set with plates and bowls that shone dimly. Off to my right, a path led toward the uniform mass of a hill.
Arrayed before us stood the Princeling and the remainder of his retinue: the Blue Knight, the Red Knight, the Crone, and Sahir, whose place in the Court I still wasn’t sure about—though I was glad to see him here.
“We could’ve carpooled,” I said to him, forcing a grin to hide my awe. He came toward me and held out his hands.
“I doubt you would have been delighted by my steed,” he said as I fell, ungainly, into his arms. He caught me with ease. Sahir slid me down his body, gently, until my feet touched the earth. I tried not to feel how warm his palms were against my spine.
Determined not to be creepy, I pushed away and turned to the horse.
“Thanks, Sparkles,” I said, and patted her on the shoulder as high as I could reach. She tossed her head and stalked off into a wide meadow, radiating the self-satisfaction of a quadruped who’d vastly exceeded expectations.
Jeff sat on his horse, frowning at the Princeling, who had come to stand by his side. The Princeling wasmuchtaller than I’d expected, towering over everyone present, but otherwise looked exactly the same as he did on the video calls: the slightly sharper features inherent to most Fae, with a nose like a weapon and shoulders that made me think about the month in college I’d spent binge-reading romantasy and pining over brooding magical dudes. He was basically straight from the pages: broad, with a wide chest and a triangular torso that hinted at hours spent in physical combat but were probably just physiological. His green eyes sparkled like faceted peridots as he took me in.
And there were his wings—smaller than I’d expected, from what I’d seen over his shoulder on camera. They were composed of soft-looking feathers in an array of greens and golds, though they were almost translucent; I could imagine them catching the light so beautifully when outstretched.
Without looking away from me, he held his arms out to Jeff, offering assistance on the dismount.
When Jeff glanced over and saw that I was already on the ground, his face flushed and he shook his head, instead flinging himself off his horse into space. He landed on the Princeling with a loud “Oof!”; the Princeling buckled but didn’t fall. There was no gentle release, though, and the Princeling let Jeff stumble away.
Jeff straightened up and nodded at me, a jerky motion that meantget over here. I went to stand next to him and inclined my head to the Princeling. “My liege,” I said.
Obviously, the Princeling was not literally my liege. But what do you call a liege who isn’t yours?Mister Liege? Their Liege? Hello, Someone Else’s Liege.
Jeff grunted, which meantI should be talking.
“Lady of the True Dreams,” the Princeling said to me. That was at least better than “sorceress.” His green eyes were almost dappled, like sitting below a tree in midsummer.
He turned to Jeff. “Jeff.”
“Well, I’m starving,” Jeff said, and chuckled. “Should we eat and talk?”
My stomach tightened. Was he just… not going to listen to me at all? I stared at the Princeling, who looked back like he could read my mind.
“Yes,” he said, with a smile that made his lips thin and white, “we should eat and talk.”
Chapter 3
In Which We Meet the Obligatory Climate Protester
The Princeling led us to the table. Small three-legged stools clustered around the two long sides. At the head of the table stood a silver throne. He stopped beside it.
