ECHOES OF THE ANVIL

VALERIE STONEHOLD™

BOOK FIVE

RENÉE JAGGÉR

MICHAEL ANDERLE

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Version 1.00, August 2024

ebook ISBN: 979-8-88878-883-7

Print ISBN: 979-8-88878-884-4

THE ECHOES OF THE ANVIL TEAM

Thanks to the Beta Readers

Kelly O’Donnell, Rachel Beckford, Mary Morris

Thanks to the JIT Readers

Christopher Gilliard

Dorothy Lloyd

Diane L. Smith

Dave Hicks

Wendy L Bonell

Daryl McDaniel

Sean Kesterson

Kelly O’Donnell

Jan Hunnicutt

Editor

The SkyFyre Editing Team

CHAPTER ONE

Val Stonehold flipped the loupe down over her face and peered through the magnifying lens at the delicate piece of jewelry mounted on the workbench. It gleamed under the bright light, details exquisite: the slender curve of gold from the Avalonian Spine, the row of tiny sapphires decorating the small hoop, and the pea-sized gold-plated setting dangling from it.

The hoop was pure gold, but Val made the setting from steel for a good reason. Gold didn’t respond to her magic the way iron did.

She focused on the empty setting. Gold conducted magic, and her power passed effortlessly through the thin layer to penetrate the steel. Iron atoms pushed against their carbon counterparts, and a tiny indentation appeared in the setting.

Val didn’t look away from the loupe. Her iron senses showed her where to find her tweezers. She used them to grip a tiny object and raised it to the loupe.

The thing was smaller than a grain of rice, but through her loupe, its complexity boggled her mind. She had no idea how computers worked, yet she recognized the tiny wires and slots as having something to do with them. There was more to the chip, though, since a faint blue glow surrounded it—troll magic.

Val grinned. “Here goes nothing, dude.”

The massive red-furred dog lying at her feet raised his head when he heard her voice. His tail thudded on the floor.

Val leaned close. The indentation reshaped itself as she lowered the chip into it. The steel and gold seamlessly closed around the chip, which glowed brighter as it drew magic from the sapphires in the hoop.

“Almost done.” She grabbed the final component, a small round sapphire, and held it below the loupe to examine the delicate runes she’d inscribed on the surface. Etching them into the gemstone, which, given its hardness of nine, was almost like etching a diamond, hadn’t been easy. They pulsed with blue magic as Val gently pressed the sapphire into its setting and used a burnisher and a touch of magic to keep it there.

She straightened her back, exhaling, and flexed her neck left and right. “I can see why Dad told me making jewelry was too fiddly for him, Shadow.”

The dog whined.

Val tucked the earring into a velvet box beside its twin. She smiled at her work and rubbed Shadow’s ribs with her toe. He rolled onto his belly, letting her massage the skin with her bare foot.

She tilted the box to admire the sapphires’ fire and brilliance in the light from the forge that burned low in the corner of the smithy. The ample, quiet space contained rows of pigeonholes for jewelry parts, long racks for weapons and tools, and various anvils.

“A few tests, and we’re good to go,” Val murmured. Her phone’s chime made her and Shadow both jump. Val lowered the box and had to hunt for her phone in the debris on the workbench for a few moments before she found it and smiled at the caller ID.

Dad.

She raised the phone to her ear. “Hey, Dad.”

“Little spark!” Frode Stonehold boomed. “It’s always wonderful to hear your voice.”

Val closed her eyes. Her father’s voice wrapped around her like a hug. She hadn’t seen him in a few months, and longing swept over her with unexpected force.

“Nice to hear from you, too,” she replied. “How are you?”

“Me? Fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” Frode cleared his throat. “Why wouldn’t it be? We’re all fine here. Yes. Fine.”

Val’s eyebrows rose. “Okay, Dad, spill it. What’s going on?”

“Nothing! Nothing.” Frode coughed. “I, uh…I called to hear how you are doing, my little heroine of battle. How are the burns?”

Val rubbed her shins. “They’re long gone. Dr. Olena’s cream healed them in a week. Is everything okay?”

“Everything is fine!” Frode attempted breeziness and failed. “What are you working on?”

Val smiled at the earrings. “Something really cool.”

“Secret?” Frode asked.

“Nothing like that. An anniversary gift for a real heroine,” Val told him.

Excitement replaced the weirdness in Frode’s tone. “Who?”

Val grinned. “Elspeth Feathertouch.”

Frode gasped. “Elspeth Feathertouch? The OPMA intelligence agent who almost single-handedly gathered the information Queen Julia needed to find and conquer Mordred in the Deep Theater?”

“The very same.” Val chuckled. “Her husband Blake contacted me about a special gift for their anniversary next week. I ran into him in Avalon Town once, and he likes my work, I guess. Anyway, I made a pair of gold earrings with sapphires and the ability to telepathically eavesdrop on conversations at a range of, say, a hundred feet.”

“That’s incredible,” Frode gushed. “Which magic did you use?”

“A blend of magic and thaumatech, actually. Qenzi gave me a telechip I’ve embedded in the setting. I used sapphire and gold to amplify the chip’s power and added runes to make its presence undetectable,” Val explained.

“That’s your first time using thaumatech, isn’t it?” Frode asked.

Val nodded. “It’s exciting. I think Qenzi and I will make cool stuff in the future.”

“Send me a picture of the earrings. I love to see your trinkets, darling.” Frode laughed.

Val smirked. “‘Trinkets,’ Dad? Really?”

“I feel like a fool for treating your jewelry as a hobby when you still lived with me. I might as well laugh at myself for it.” Frode sighed.

An odd silence settled over them, and it had nothing to do with Frode’s self-deprecation. Val didn’t hold his opinion of jewelry-making against him. Her father was the best dwarven blacksmith she knew. He could forge an unbluntable sword in a day and shoe a pegasus in ten minutes. There was something else going on.

She tried a gentler tone. “Come on, Dad. I know there’s something you’re not telling me.”

“Uh, no. Um, actually.” Frode cleared his throat. “You know I’m proud of you, right, darling?”

“I know.” Val gritted her teeth. “Dad⁠—”

“I was telling Bodil the other day,” Frode blurted. “I was telling her how proud I am of you.”

Relief washed through Val’s chest. She leaned back on the stool, smirking, and crossed her legs. So, this is about Bodil. Are you finally going to tell me about her, Dad?

“That’s nice,” she murmured.

“Bodil’s proud, too. She watched you grow up.” Frode stumbled over every word. “You know. She, uh, she’s been one of our most loyal customers.”

Val had to bite back a laugh. “Uh-huh.”

“She knew you as a baby, and she’s very impressed every time I tell her about you. She was so proud at your knighthood ceremony, too. Thanks for inviting her to that. I think it surprised her, but she enjoyed it.”

“No problem.” Val’s smirk grew.

“I know how hard it was for you here in the Iron Hills, darling. People treated you badly. They didn’t see in you what I saw, except, you know...” He stopped.

“Except for Bodil,” Val patiently supplied.

“Yes. Well, your Aunt Milda too, but yes. Bodil was one of the few who saw you for who you are—one of the best dwarves ever to walk this earth.” Frode sighed, his tone turning wistful. “She’s always been there for us, you know? Always in our corner. She stuck up for you after the, uh, incident with the caber.”

“You mean the time I threw a caber through the window of Ironforge Bastion and nailed a pricey tapestry to the wall?” Val inquired.

Frode chuckled. “Yup.”

“Bodil was cool about that. I appreciated it,” Val told him.

“Good. Good! I’m so glad. It was good to have her around, wasn’t it?” Frode continued.

Val smothered a laugh. “Yes, Dad. It’s nice having Bodil around.”

“I’m relieved you feel that way, little spark, because…because… Well, I-I…” Frode stammered into silence. “You’re right. There is something I have to tell you.”

Val folded her arms. “I’m listening.”

“Bodil and I.” Frode swallowed. “Bodil and I have been, um…” The silence stretched.

Val took pity on Frode after almost a minute had passed. “You and Bodil are dating.”

Frode gasped. “What? How did you know?”

“Dad, I’ve known for years.” Val chuckled. “You thought it was a state secret, but I’ve known since I was a kid.”

“You have?” Frode squawked.

“Yeah, and Bodil knows I know. We’re not stupid, Dad. I can see the way you look at her, even when you’re trying not to.”

“Well, how...how do you feel about it?” Frode quavered.

Val smiled. “If I’d had a problem with it, Dad, I’d have told you long ago.”

Frode exhaled so hard that his breath crackled noisily in Val’s ear. She winced.

“Oh, little spark, you have no idea what a relief that is,” he wheezed. “I’ve been so worried about how you might feel about having someone else in my life after...well, after your mother.”

“Dad, it’s really okay,” Val assured him. “Did you think I expected you to be alone for the rest of your life after my mom walked out on us? That’s crazy! I’m glad you finally told me, and I’ve always been glad you’ve had Bodil. I would not have been okay with leaving home if I hadn’t known that she’d be there for you.”

“Wonderful. Wonderful!” Frode laughed like a drum roll. “Ah, Val, you’ve made my day!”

“No problem, Dad.” Val shook her head.

“Now I can ask for your ideas on the proposal!” Frode boomed.

Val’s world ground to a halt. “P-proposal?”

“Yes! I was thinking of something romantic, like taking her on a weekend break or maybe going down to her favorite cave in the mines to pop the question. What do you think?”

Val’s mouth opened and shut several times before words came out. “You...you’re going to ask Bodil to marry you?”

Frode hesitated. “I thought you might know that, too. Is that a problem for you, little spark? Because if it is⁠—”

“No,” Val barked. “No. It’s not.”

“Oh, good!” Frode sighed. “For a moment, you sounded unsure.”

“No,” Val repeated.

“Oh, I know what’s going on.” Frode chuckled. “You’re surprised I didn’t ask you to make the engagement ring.”

No, Dad, Val thought. I’m flabbergasted by the idea of Bodil as my stepmother. She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud. “That is a bit surprising,”

“Sorry, little spark. I should have clarified that. Bodil’s father gave me her grandmother’s engagement ring. Not as nice as the jewelry you make, but it’s sentimental for her. I figure that’s what she wants. What do you think? Should I bring it to you for a touch-up or additions?”

“I think you should go with what Bodil wants,” Val managed.

“I’ll send you pictures. You can let me know if it needs repairs or anything.” Frode almost sang the words. “Oh! She’s at the front door. I have to go, little spark, or she’ll get suspicious. I want it to be a surprise!”

Yeah. There’s a lot of that going around. “Okay, Dad.” Val swallowed. “Love you.”

“Love you, darling. Bye!” Frode hung up.

Val lowered the phone slowly, aware of her cold, clammy hands. Shadow whined and laid his giant head on her lap. She briefly stared into the middle distance, stroking his ears, then sprang to her feet.

“I don’t know about you, Shadow.” Val grabbed her car keys. “But I need a drink.”

The Iron Fist was usually bustling, even this early in the day, but relief flowed through Val as she stepped over the threshold and found the little bar almost empty. The small space smelled of good beer and potato chips. Three booths marched down one side, and new leather stools gleamed beside the polished bar. Shields and weapons hung on the wall. Their human patrons wouldn’t recognize the emblems of great dwarven heroes carved into the rusted metal.

One booth was empty. A group of Woodland Fae sat in the other, nursing goblets of Bacchus mead. As Val entered, the three old men who always occupied the last booth looked up from their cards. One raised a hand.

Val nodded at them, and Shadow wagged his tail. She took off his leash so he could jog over to his favorite patrons and headed to the bar. She picked an empty seat near the bar’s end, far from the handful of tourists, and nodded at Jeff, their human bouncer. He raised a non-alcoholic beer in greeting but didn’t come over.

A young half-orc, half-vampire approached Val, his smile revealing both tusks and fangs. “Hi, Val.” He dropped his gaze shyly. “Pint of Iron IPA?”

“Make it a quart. Thanks, Dante.” Val leaned her elbows on the bar. “Is your uncle here yet?”

“Enzo’s in the office. Should I go get him?” Dante asked.

“Tell him I’m here, that’s all. Thanks, man.” Val paused, studying the para’s outfit: a T-shirt bearing an orc rock group’s logo, along with a red-trimmed jacket reminiscent of a vampire’s cape. “You look good, D.”

Dante’s smile widened. “I feel good. Thanks. Be right back.”

He bustled off, returning moments later with a tall glass of dark beer with tiny flecks of rust. Val raised the glass to her lips and drained half. The dwarf-made brew sent a tingle through her veins, but it didn’t help.

Shadow flopped down at her feet with a sigh.

“My dad’s getting married.” Val groaned. “What are we going to do, buddy?”

Shadow had no wisdom to offer.

Familiar footsteps paced across the floorboards. Val raised her head as Enzo Lombardi, her business partner, approached. The kindly orc wore a greasy Iron Fist T-shirt over his expansive belly. His bald head sported easily visible tribal tattoos despite the dark hair that wasn’t really there. It was part of his glamour, a concealment spell that kept him safe from human eyes.

“What’s up, Val?” Enzo asked. “It’s your night off.”

“Yeah.” Val rubbed the back of her neck. “I...I didn’t know where else to go.”

Enzo’s perceptive brown eyes raked her. “Hmm. I’ve been bartending long enough to know that look.” He pulled up a stool behind the bar. “Dante, can you and Jeff handle the customers for a few minutes?”

“Sure, Uncle. I don’t even think I’ll need Jeff. It’s not busy now.” Dante hesitated. “Get you something?”

“A beer won’t hurt. Make it a Gold Pilsner,” Enzo ordered.

Dante disappeared as Val drained her glass. She lowered it to find Enzo quirking an eyebrow at her. “That bad, huh?”

Val moaned and allowed her forehead to hit the bar.

“What is it, a guy?” Enzo asked. “Somebody I should be opening a can of whoop-ass on?”

“No,” Val mumbled, her words muffled against the wood. “I can open my own whoop-ass cans, thanks. It’s not a guy, though.”

“Oh?” Enzo accepted his pilsner and another IPA for Val from Dante. “What, then?”

Val raised her head and dolefully took her beer. “My dad’s going to propose to his girlfriend.”

Enzo’s eyebrows shot up. “I didn’t know your dad had a girlfriend.”

“I did. Bodil’s been around forever. She’s a manager in the mines, and she’s always asked my dad to make whatever she needs. I noticed they were together when I was a teenager.” Val rubbed the back of her neck. “It never bothered me, even though Dad wouldn’t admit they were dating. Bodil’s cool, but I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Mixed feelings about your dad having another woman in his life?” Enzo guessed.

“No. I think it’s high time he found somebody after my mom left. I guess I thought he and Bodil would go on dating forever.” Val bit her lip. “The idea of marriage never crossed my mind. Now, she’ll be more than Dad’s girlfriend, Enzo. She’s...she’s going to be my stepmom.”

“Ah.” Enzo folded his arms. “I see.”

“It’s weird and scary. I don’t like the feeling,” Val admitted. “I’m not good with this shit.”

“Which shit?”

“You know.” Val waved her arms. “People shit. Families.”

“You were pretty good with bringing Dante back to us.” Enzo smiled at his nephew as he served the three old men whiskies.

“Maybe.” Val sighed and ran her fingers through her electric-blue locks. “Thing is, I don’t know Bodil that well. I tried to stay out of her and Frode’s way. Now it’s going to be this whole new weird dynamic.”

“A mother-daughter thing?” Enzo guessed.

“Merlin’s toenails, I hope not.” Val covered her face with her hands. “My mom left me, Enzo. How am I supposed to do the mom thing again? I have no idea how to make this work.”

Enzo laid a hand on her arm. “Listen, kid. I don’t have any advice for you. This is uncharted territory for me, but I can tell you one thing.”

Val lowered her hands. “What?”

“You’re the strongest para I know.” Enzo met her eyes and smiled, exposing his decorated tusks. “In more ways than one. You can handle this.”

Val’s lips twitched. “Thanks, Enzo.”

“Any time. Drink your beer. It’ll help,” Enzo suggested.

Val raised her glass to him and took a long pull. Her phone buzzed as she drank. She fished it out and read a text from Yuka Marniq.

Hey Val! Hope you’re doing great :) Blair and I would like to discuss something with you and Enzo. Could we meet at the brewery soon?

Val frowned. Yuka and her partner Blair Abercrombie ran the brewery that supplied the Iron Fist’s excellent range of beers.

“What’s wrong?” Enzo asked.

“It’s Yuka. She wants to talk to us.” Val lowered her phone. “At the brewery.”

“What about?” Enzo leaned back.

“She didn’t say. I hope nothing’s wrong.” Val bit her lip. “Their beer is amazing, and our customers love it.”

“Wish she’d come out and say what she wants,” Enzo grumbled.

“Can we meet them there sometime? Tomorrow, maybe?” Val asked.

“Yeah, make it tomorrow,” Enzo agreed.

Sure. Tomorrow morning?

She pocketed her phone and sipped more beer. Shadow raised his head. His back muscles tensed against her boots, and a low growl rumbled through him, almost inaudible over the music. The vibration shook her stool.

“What’s up, Shad?” Val lowered her drink.

Voices rose at the back of the bar. Val turned her attention to the booth full of Woodland Fae. A freckled young fae woman whose crimson ponytail ended in a white tip exposed her sharp teeth, her whiskers flattening against her tastefully made-up cheeks.

“No,” she yelled. “Don’t you understand the implications?”

Across the table from her, a male fae with black-and-white streaks in his hair folded his arms. “Yeah, I do. We’ll all be safer for it.”

“We’ll all be at risk of death if we break the law,” the fox fae barked.

“It’s not like you’d get capital punishment for a speeding ticket,” the badger fae snapped. “This is about true criminals. Monsters!”

A gasp rippled around the table at his use of the heinous term.

Val groaned. “Are they debating the Wild Hunt death penalty thing again?”

Enzo sighed. “Yep. In public this time.” He lowered his voice. “In front of humans.”

Jeff had taken notice. The bouncer slipped off his bar stool, eyes on the escalating argument.

Enzo muttered, “We’d better stop him before he gets sucked into this.”

“On it.” Val rose.

Enzo ducked out from behind the bar and followed Val across the floor. The badger and the fox fae continued yelling at each other as she approached Jeff.

“Hey, man. It’s cool. I’ll handle this,” she told him.

Jeff gave his easygoing smile. “I can do it. You’re off.”

Val smirked and gently punched his arm. “I need to let off steam, if you know what I mean.”

“Well, don’t let me stand in your way.” Jeff raised his hands, then returned to his seat.

Val approached the booth as the badger fae sprang to his feet.

“What’s the alternative, then?” he yelled. “Hope we’ll be safe when history’s most dangerous paranormals escape?”

“They won’t escape.” The fox fae scoffed.

“Sure.” The badger fae snorted. “Like Mordred could never escape from the prison realm. But he did, and look where that got us!”

“That’s exactly why Her Majesty isn’t sending them to the prison realm,” the fox fae growled.

The badger fae rolled his eyes. “Yeah, because keeping them locked up in cells is so much more secure than sending them to a different dimension.”

The fox fae sneered. “I thought you said the prison realm isn’t safe.”

“It’s not!” the badger fae barked. “That’s why she should kill them and be done with it!”

Shadow padded to the table, his low growl rumbling from his belly. The group shrank back, but the two loudmouths kept yelling even after the dog laid his head on the table.

“Where’s the line, then?” the fox fae demanded. “Where do we stop after we decide we get to choose when paras live or die?”

“We’ve been toeing that line,” the badger fae snapped. “We were at war a few years ago, remember? Her Majesty had no problem killing hundreds of paras then.”

Val folded her arms. “Excuse me.”

Her words cut through the argument. The badger and the fox fae finally looked up. Val raised her chin, aware of the lean but stern bulges of her bare biceps.

“What’s going on over here?” Enzo asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but it held steel.

The badger fae folded his arms. “A little spirited debate.”

Val sniffed, catching faerie wine on his breath. “It’s spirited, all right.”

“We need to talk about these issues,” the fox fae retorted. “We’re not causing any trouble.”

“I don’t disagree with you,” Enzo told her. “but you’re getting close to causing trouble you don’t want.”

The two fae exchanged glances. The badger fae clenched his fists. “Maybe we should take this outside.”

“There’s no need for that, sir.” Val raised her chin. “There’s nothing wrong with debate.”

The badger fae’s eyes darted from Val’s fists to her broad shoulders.

“Both your voices deserve to be heard, but if fists start flying, that’s a different matter,” Enzo interjected. “Not to mention the reality that there are humans all around you.”

“Have a care,” Val summarized.

The fox fae slowly sat. “I guess we were loud.”

The badger fae snorted. “It’s an important topic. Excuse me if I’m passionate about it.”

“Go ahead. Be passionate, but punch one of my customers, and it won’t end well for you,” Val growled.

Shadow emitted a low snarl that made the table tremble, sending ripples through the faerie wine glasses. Noxious fumes rose from the dark fluid, making several of the fae sneeze.

“You got that?” Enzo snapped.

The fae finally broke eye contact and muttered variations on agreement and apology.

“Good. Have a nice evening, folks.” Val flashed a smile before returning to the bar. No one had dared come near her drink.

Enzo joined her. “That’s the third time this week.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing,” Val observed.

“Not a bad thing that we have to keep paranormals from destroying a bar with human customers in it?” Enzo inquired.

Val laughed. “I meant that paras feel safe talking about these issues in the Fist. We’ve become known as neutral ground on an issue that seems to be pervading every part of para life, even here on Earth.”

“I suppose,” Enzo murmured. “But I don’t want paras questioning our loyalty to Her Majesty.”

“I get that. We’re not interested in treachery. Allowing these kinds of debates might be the most loyal thing we can do.” Val smiled. “They can only happen because of Queen Julia’s freedom of speech policy.”

Enzo tilted his head. “You’re right about that. She’s no tyrant. Paras are allowed to voice their complaints against her. Always have been.”

“Exactly, and having the Iron Fist be a place where that can happen is a good thing,” Val reassured him. “Plus, you and I are here. We keep things from getting to the point where humans are hurt. It’s a safe place for paras to let off steam without harming innocents.”

“I like what you’re saying.” Enzo sipped his pilsner. “Anything from Yuka yet?”

Val checked her phone. “She’ll see us at the brewery at nine.”

She drained her second beer, feeling better in a way that had nothing to do with the excellent IPA. Right now, paranormal unrest was far less worrying than the thought of Frode’s engagement.

CHAPTER TWO

Genevieve’s Cobrajet V8 roared along the edge of Bedford-Stuyvesant. The ’71 Mustang Mach 1 didn’t have much space to open up, but she made her snarl heard as she sped and skidded from one street to the next, eating up the distance through the suburbs.

In the passenger seat, Dante whooped as he clung to the handle over the door. Val grabbed the emergency brake, but the steering wheel jumped under her hands of its own accord, throwing Genevieve into a screeching drift for the young para’s benefit.

Shadow was used to it. He lay in the backseat, happily drooling into Enzo’s lap. Val glanced in the rearview mirror and laughed at the orc’s expression. “Looking a little green around the gills there, Enzo.”

“Are we there yet?” the orc moaned.

“Almost. Last stretch.” Val grinned at Dante. “Ready?”

“Punch it!” Dante howled.

Val stomped on the gas. Genevieve’s roar increased. She sprang down the quiet alley between tightly packed factories, her cry resounding between the buildings.

“Hold on!” Val called.

The sign for Anvil Brewery came up quickly. Val hit the brake, and Genevieve squeaked to a halt with almost as much force as she’d accelerated.

Dante caught himself with both hands on the dash. “Whoa! That was awesome!”

“To think you didn’t want to come.” Enzo unbuckled his seat belt.

“I didn’t realize we were riding in the Mustang.” Dante stepped out and ran a reverent hand over Genevieve’s roof.

“As if I’d let Enzo drive me anywhere,” Val muttered.

“What was that?” Enzo made getting-out movements.

“Nothing, nothing.” Val laughed.

Enzo wagged a finger. “You watch yourself, young lady.”

“Did you just ‘young lady’ me?” Val demanded as she got out.

Dante giggled as his uncle exited the back seat. “I didn’t think this whole ‘learning about the business’ thing would be so much fun.”

“You’ll see, kid.” Enzo draped an arm around Dante’s shoulders. “It’s more fun than you think. Ever seen how beer is made?”

Val left Genevieve parked in the loading bay. The large doors were cracked open, so the trio headed inside. Spotless surfaces gleamed inside the brewery, from the copper pipes and vats to the concrete floor. The smells of yeast, alcohol, and grain filled the air. Electronics hummed and clicked, and wisps of magic surrounded the pipes and gauges.

“Morning, Hamish,” Val called.

A bristle-bearded Copper Dwarf looked up from beside a vat. He was checking the temperature with his bare hands against the metal. “Oh, hey, Val. Blair and Yuka said they were expecting you. They’re in the office.” He jerked his head toward the back of the brewery.

“Mind showing the kid around?” Enzo asked.

“Sure.” Hamish grinned. “C’mon, kid. Let me teach you how to brew your own booze on the kitchen counter.”

Dante perked up. “Really?”

“No!” Val and Enzo chorused.

“Kidding.” Hamish raised his hands. “Industrial beer only. Got it.”

He led Dante away, and Val headed toward the office with Shadow and Enzo at her heels.

“Wow. That’s new.” Val pointed at a smaller vat in a corner that contained a mountain of purple grapes sparkling like gemstones as well as three faeries. Unlike Val’s roommate Tetra Dupont, whose concealment spell made her human-sized and wingless, these were six inches tall and had ragged wings like a wasp’s. They jumped up and down on the grapes, adding blasts of faerie dust from their fists as they squashed them one at a time.

“Faerie wine?” Enzo guessed. “Bold move. Nobody makes it outside Avalon.”

“Maybe this is what they want to tell us about,” Val observed.

“It’s part of it,” someone behind her admitted.

Val and Enzo turned. Yuka wasn’t wearing her usual ball cap in the brewery’s safety. Her rich emerald-green hair spilled over her shoulders. The four-foot dwarf smiled nervously. “Blair’s in the office. Coffee?”

Val returned the smile. “I’ll never say no.”

“It’s already brewing, if you’ll excuse my word choice.” Yuka patted Shadow’s head as he amiably nuzzled her. “Let’s join him in the office.”

Glass walls separated the office from the production floor. Two desks faced each other across the carpeted interior. The regimented one on the left featured closed filing cabinets, a near-empty in-tray, and rows of sharpened pencils lined up beside a sleek laptop. The one at which Blair sat was chaotic. Sketches, blueprints, scribbled ideas, sticky notes, and flyers sprawled across it, barely leaving room for his laptop.

The Copper Dwarf bounded to his feet, sending a flurry of sticky notes to the floor. “Aha! You’re here!” His broad smile split his scarlet beard.

“Easy, Blair,” Yuka chided.

Blair wrung Val’s hand, then Enzo’s, and patted Shadow’s head. “Have a seat.” He hustled them to the other side of the office, where mismatched chairs clustered around a plastic coffee table.

Yuka brought cups of coffee from the machine in the corner. Blair reached for one, and she slapped his hand away. “You’ve had enough for one morning.”

“Three,” he complained.

Yuka raised her eyebrows.

“Okay, five. Maybe you’re right.” Blair folded his hands in his lap.

Val accepted a cup. “You’re excited about something.”

“No shit,” Enzo muttered.

“I’m so glad you guys could come.” Blair leaned forward. “Did you see our faerie wine vat in the brewery as you came in?”

Val nodded. “I did. It’s impressive that you got those faeries to leave Avalon, let alone do something productive.” She chuckled. “No offense to Tetra, but it’s not easy.”

“I paid them well and introduced them to the hobby of hunting rats in the gutters. The city’s got enough of those to keep them occupied.” Blair smirked. “Our first batch of faerie wine isn’t ready yet, but if it’s any good, it could be half the price of Fernwood wine.”

“Half the price?” Enzo perked up. “Our para clients love that stuff, but they seldom buy it because it’s so expensive.”

“Exactly, and we saw a market opportunity here. But that’s not what we’d like to talk to you about,” Blair admitted.

Yuka sat beside him and took his hand. “Anvil Brewery’s business has boomed since you took BrewCorp down, Val.”

“I had help,” Val acknowledged.

“We’re struggling to keep up with demand, not only for our current line of beers but for different types of paranormal-based booze. You’re not the only para bar owner in the city who’s noticed that humans love our beer, too,” Yuka explained. “We’re among the first companies to introduce food or drink with paranormal flavors that don’t have the effect of breaking the Veil.”

“I was wondering about that.” Val folded her arms. “Most para food and drink is banned from establishments that cater to humans because it opens their eyes to us. How come Anvil products aren’t?”

“They’re specially licensed,” Enzo chipped in. “Everything in our bar is, except that bottle of Fernwood wine I keep under my desk. I don’t understand why, but something about the brewing and distilling processes makes it safe.”

“Exactly.” Yuka nodded. “Our beers have to pass stringent tests under Eternity Law. They measure the magic levels, and as long as they’re low enough, they don’t threaten the Veil.”

Val grinned. “That’s pretty cool.”

Blair beamed. “’Pretty cool?’ It’s amazing. You should see the thaumatechnical filters we use to⁠—”

“Blair, honey,” Yuka interjected quietly.

“Right. Right. Tangent. Sorry.” Blair cleared his throat and longingly glanced at Yuka’s coffee, then continued. “The point is, our business has the potential to grow even more. We see plenty of room in the market, but we’re also producing as much beer as possible from this facility. The faerie wine experiment is taking up the last scrap of space.”

“We need more space if we’re going to grow the brewery,” Yuka chimed in, “but to do that, we need to bring investors on board.”

“The sky’s the limit.” Blair grinned. “Do you want a piece of this? I think it’s going to be really good.”

“Here’s our preliminary investment plan.” Yuka pushed a piece of paper across the coffee table to Val and Enzo.

Enzo seized it, scanned it, and beamed, displaying his tusks. “I love this. I think it’s a great idea.”

“Anvil Brewery and the Iron Fist are a winning partnership,” Val acknowledged, laying a hand on Enzo’s arm, “but we’ll need a little time to think about it.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow, but Yuka nodded. “Of course.”

“Like you said, this partnership has been rewarding.” Blair smiled. “Take your time. We’re not interested in doing anything to compromise the good thing we already have.”

“We’ll look at the figures and get back to you in a few days,” Val suggested.

Enzo nodded. “Sounds good to me.”

“Great!” Blair beamed. “Yuka, honey⁠—”

“Okay, okay.” Yuka laughed and handed him a cup of coffee.

“I’m surprised you’re not all in on this, Val,” Enzo observed.

They strolled into the balmy summer morning with Shadow and Dante close behind.

“It seems like a way to make more money without doing much work,” Dante interjected. “Like, isn’t that a good thing?”

Val chuckled. “I hear you.” She slid into the driver’s seat. “I support Anvil, Enzo. You know that.”

“Yeah, we figured that when you risked your life to protect Blair, Yuka, and their company.” Enzo got in. “That’s why I’m surprised.”

Shadow and Dante crammed into the backseat.

Val buckled her seat belt. “I think it’s a great idea business-wise, and I love the brewery. The only thing giving me pause is that I have a shitload of stuff on my plate.”

Enzo grimaced. “I forget sometimes that you’re not only a bar owner like me. You’ve got the jewelry business and the security stuff going on too.”

Val inclined her head. “Exactly, and Gold, Manns, and Sax said they’d have more security contracts for me. With this Wild Hunt shit blowing up the para world, I don’t doubt that Her Majesty will be in touch soon, too. In the meantime, I have a commission from the queen mother to finish by the end of the week, and⁠—”

“Wait.” Dante leaned forward. “A commission from the queen mother? Rosa?”

Val laughed. “You’re a fan?”

“Who wouldn’t be? She was an ordinary human mom from West Brighton one minute and a war hero the next!” Dante gushed. “What are you making for her? Wait, don’t tell me. I bet it’s classified.”

“You see?” Val grimaced. “Lots to do.”

“I hear you, Val. Let’s talk more about it after Bart’s had a look at their proposal,” Enzo suggested.

Val nodded. “Sounds good to me.” She idled Genevieve to the end of the loading bay and turned onto the street. “Hey, Dante?”

“Yeah?” The young para leaned forward.

“Hold onto your ass,” Val suggested.

She popped the clutch, and Genevieve bounded forward. Dante’s laughter filled her interior.

Val stepped out of the shower, toweling her smooth scalp. Shadow’s barking had dragged her from under the hot water. He barked again, and she heard distant knocking.

“Tetra!” she yelled. “That’s the pizza guy!”

The word “pizza” instantly cured her roommate’s selective deafness. Val heard her thundering down the steps from her apartment over the garage, which shared a wall with Val’s bedroom.

Val rolled her eyes as she pulled on a sweatsuit. Her fingers trailed over one of the many wigs that took up several shelves in her walk-in closet: brunette waves, platinum-blonde curls, a sharp black undercut, a poofy afro, and her favorite electric-blue bob. She grabbed a headscarf and knotted it quickly and clumsily. It wasn’t a skill one learned in the Iron Hills. She’d YouTubed it.

She waited until the delivery guy’s scooter puttered away before she ventured downstairs. Tetra was in the kitchen, sitting cross-legged on the table, scrolling on her phone as she shoved pizza into her face.

“Uh, excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?” Val demanded.

Tetra looked up from the phone. Her black hair had been ragged when Val met her. Now she wore it in a layered spiky pixie. Rebellious bangs fell over her eyes, so dark that they seemed black. “Eating pizza.”

“You didn’t wait for me?” Val eyed the large pizza on the table with two slices missing.

Tetra shrugged. “You snooze, you lose.”

“Do you have to sit on the table?” Val rolled her eyes.

Tetra swung down, grabbed the pizza box, and strode to the living room.

“Where are you going with that?” Val grabbed two sodas from the fridge and followed her.

“Where does it look like?” Tetra shoved Shadow off the couch, plopped onto it, and grabbed the TV’s remote.

“You have your own apartment, in case you hadn’t noticed.” Val sat beside her and offered her a soda.

Tetra put the pizza box on the coffee table. “Liam’s been pestering us to watch this stupid kids’ show. Are we gonna do it or what?”

Val smothered a smile. “Here, I’ll find it.” She grabbed the remote and a pizza slice.

Tetra opened her soda and chugged it with barbaric noises while Val typed.

“Wait, there are two Avatars: big blue guys and old-style animation.” Val raised her eyebrows. “Which one do we pick?”

Tetra eyed the loincloth-wearing big blue guy. “Mmm, definitely him.”

“Ew. Disgusting. I’m not sitting through another movie like Aquaman with you.” Val picked the old-style animation.

“What? Why not? Aquaman was awesome!” Tetra protested.

“Yeah, and I needed a bucket to catch your drool from Jason Momoa,” Val teased.

Tetra snorted. “Girl, he’s hot. What am I supposed to do about that? Whoa, this thing is old. Is there a live-action version?”

“Let’s watch it for more than twenty seconds before we judge,” Val chided.

Shadow returned to the couch and snuggled between Val and Tetra. Val tangled the fingers of one hand in his fur while munching pizza with the other hand. She’d laughed at several slapstick jokes in the first episode when she realized Tetra hadn’t made a sound.

The faerie sat with her knees drawn to her chest, eyes on her phone. It indicated an incoming text with a buzz, and Tetra’s eyes skimmed the screen. A smile grew on her lips, and she giggled.

“Did you just giggle?” Val demanded.

Tetra scowled. “No.”

“I heard you!” Val straightened. “I didn’t know you could giggle.”

“Shut up.” Scarlet patches appeared on Tetra’s cheeks.

Val gasped. “Now you’re blushing.”

“Piss off!” Tetra threw a decorative pillow at her.

“Why do you keep throwing Liam’s pillows?” Val roared.

Tetra tucked herself deeper into the couch and returned her attention to the phone, thumbs flying over the screen.

“Who are you texting?” Val leaned closer.

“Nobody.” Tetra turned the screen away.

“You haven’t pointed out a single magical inaccuracy yet.” Val raised her eyebrows. “Who is the guy?”

“Nobody!” Tetra protested.

Val smirked. “It is a guy.”

“You’re a pain in the ass,” Tetra grumbled.

Val scoffed. “You’re a fine one to talk!”

Val’s phone hummed. She hit pause on the remote, expecting Enzo with ideas from their meeting with Blair and Yuka a few days ago. It was a video call.

From her father.

Val’s heart froze. She made a strangled sound in her throat.

Tetra raised her head. “You okay?”

Val angrily gestured for the faerie to shut up. “Ah, shit. My hair!”

“It’s okay. It’s your dad,” Tetra yelled.

Val tossed the phone on the couch and sprinted upstairs. She struggled into her afro and bolted back downstairs, then dove to grab her phone before the call ended.

“Dad!” she exclaimed.

Tetra helpfully picked a few coils of hair out of her eyes.

“Hello, little spark!” Frode boomed, grinning from ear to ear.

His grin was too wide. Panic clutched Val’s chest as she took in his surroundings. It was sunset in Avalon, and behind Frode, water shimmered between mountain peaks.

Oh, shit. He’s at the lake. “Everything okay, Dad?” Val squeaked.

“More than okay, darling.” Frode produced a belly laugh. “We have something to tell you.”

Val’s heart plummeted. Frode moved the camera farther from his face, and Bodil stepped forward. She usually wore rain boots and a tattered cardigan, but tonight, Bodil looked stunning in a figure-hugging red dress. Her flowing iron-gray hair hung in loose waves over her shoulders, and tiny braids peppered her beard, holding uncut gemstones in place.

“Hey, Val.” Bodil tried to play it cool, but her eyes sparkled in a way Val had never seen before.

“Look, little spark!” Frode’s grin shone like a crescent moon amid the chaos of his beard. “She said yes!”

Bodil giggled—an unusual sound for her—and held out her left hand. Frode seized it and brought it nearer the camera to show Val the diamond sparkling on Bodil’s ring finger. Val barely noticed the beautiful dwarven workmanship. The ring seemed a couple of centuries old. She stared at the diamond.

She said yes. Bodil was going to be her stepmother.

“I know!” Frode crowed. “I was speechless, too, darling. I barely stumbled through asking her.”

“Oh, nonsense.” Bodil laughed. “You were eloquent, my love.”

“My love.” This was moving too fast for Val to keep up. She’d known about Frode and Bodil, but hearing the term of endearment with her own ears sent a jolt to the base of her spine.

“It’s beautiful,” she croaked, meaning it. “I love the ring.”

“Wow, thank you, Val.” Bodil blushed. “That means so much coming from you.”

“I love the carvings in the iron,” Val managed. “Congratulations, you two.”

“Thank you, darling.” Frode beamed. “I can hardly believe I’m blessed enough to have two incredible women in my life.”

Bodil laughed. “Stop it.”

Frode wrapped an arm around her and pulled her close, the way he had done with her mom in Val’s earliest memories. Val tried to focus on the joy on her father’s face and not the panic rising in her chest.

“We won’t waste time with the handfasting, either.” Frode kissed Bodil’s cheek, then grinned at the camera. “It won’t be fancy. A quick ceremony and dinner for the family.”

Shit. The family? Bodil had a brother, didn’t she? What would he think of his new nearly six-foot-tall niece?

“That’s a good idea.” Val ground the words out of her dry mouth.

“I’m glad you think so,” Bodil offered.

“We have a romantic picnic waiting for us on the beach.” Frode squeezed Bodil’s hand.

Bodil’s eyebrows rose. “We do?”

“I can be romantic, my love.” Frode chuckled.

“Don’t let me keep you,” Val rasped. “Congratulations again.”

“Thank you, darling. I wanted to call and tell you first.” Frode smiled, eyes softening. “I love you.”

“Love you, Dad,” Val managed.

She hung up and lowered the phone. Tetra emitted a squawk that she must have held in for several minutes, judging by how it rattled the windows.

“Tetra,” Val moaned, covering her face with her hands.

“He didn’t waste any time, huh?” Tetra grinned.

“I guess.” Val pulled a pillow into her lap and hugged it.

Tetra’s grin faded, and she touched Val’s shoulder. “Hey, how do you feel about this?”

Val scratched her chin. “I don’t know. You saw my dad. He’s the happiest I’ve seen him in years, but it’s hard not to...” She stopped.

“Feel replaced?” Tetra offered gently.

Val groaned. “I know it’s stupid. Nothing can ever change how my dad feels about me, and I’m the one who left the Iron Hills. But yeah, I do feel that way.”

“Bodil seems cool.” Tetra tilted her head.

“I guess. I don’t know her that well as a person. She’s always been around, and I like her, but I don’t know what makes her tick. She’s about to be my family, and I don’t know her favorite color.” Val bit her lip. “I don’t have a relationship with her. Now I will be her stepdaughter, and I barely remember what it was like having a mom.”

“I’m sorry. I bet this is tough for you.” Tetra grimaced. “I could head over and suck all the blood from her body if you like.”

“Tetra!” Val laughed. “No. Seriously, I’m happy for my dad. It’s good to see him like this. But it’s been only Dad and me for so long. I don’t know what’s going to change.”

“Change isn’t always a bad thing, right?” Tetra grinned. “Look at me. I used to be six inches tall and have wings. Now this!” She gestured up and down her human-presenting body. “Look how much my life has improved since this happened, Val.”

A pang of guilt snaked through Val’s intestines at the thought since she’d taken Tetra’s wings. It reminded her of the power she had over the faerie.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m serious.” Tetra planted her hands on her hips. “Everything changed for me, and I wouldn’t take any of it back, even if it was uncomfortable at the time.”

“You wouldn’t?” Val asked.

Tetra grinned. “Not one bit of it, but don’t quote me on that. Have another slice. I’m going to grab some beer from the fridge.”

“I’ll start it.” Val grabbed the remote.

“Nuh-uh, you shall not!” Tetra barked.

Val laughed. “I thought it was an old kids’ show.”

“Don’t you dare turn it on without me, Valerie Stonehold!” Tetra strode to the kitchen.

Shadow sighed and wriggled closer to Val. She draped an arm over him and sank her fingers into his thick scarlet fur. It helped, but her unease still sat in her belly like she’d swallowed a lump of ice.

CHAPTER THREE

Val’s tongs glowed with heat. The warmth tingled the exposed skin above her gloves as she carried the chunk of iron to the anvil. She balanced the iron, which shone dull red, against the anvil and grabbed a hammer from the rack on her right.

Sweat trickled down the small of her back as the hammer’s rhythmic clangs filled the smithy. Val swung it in practiced arcs to shape the iron, giving it the hammered texture that her customer loved, judging by the endless Pinterest board she’d sent Val as inspiration.

She breathed heavily as she plunged the iron into a bucket of water. Steam and the familiar smell of quenched metal floated around her face. She inhaled it but turned her face away when it reminded her of long afternoons shoeing pegasi in the smithy in the Iron Hills.

Val left the iron to quench and strode to the workbench, pulling off her gloves. Shadow lay in his basket, big paws twitching as he dreamed happy doggy fantasies. She fell into her chair and fished out her phone to double-check that the commission was on track.

The first email came from Rosa.

Valerie!!!!!

I’ve been stalking you online, and your work is AMAZING!!!! We have a ball coming up for the dryad king and queen, and I NEED a Stonehold piece to wear. Something big and flashy. You know me! I don’t cut corners.

Here’s the link to my Pinterest thing. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of ideas there. I want it to be big, bold, and beautiful.

Love you!

Rosa.

Val’s lip twitched as she scrolled to the second email.

Hey Val,

Mom told me you’re working on a piece for her. She doesn’t know this, but I don’t want her to be a target because of the growing unrest in Avalon and NYC. Could you ward the living shit out of whatever you make for her? Gotta keep my mama safe.

Julie

The Eternity Queen had not been specific about which wards she wanted for her mom’s amulet, but Val had several ideas. She pulled a piece of parchment over and glanced at the runes she’d designated for the amulet. Anti-theft, magic repellent, and physical blockers would help keep Rosa safe.

Val rose, ready to return to work, but her phone hummed. Surprise rippled through her when she saw that it was the queen.

She cleared her throat before answering. “Good morning, Your Majesty.”

“Good morning to you too, and you can drop the ‘Your Majesty’ shit. Aren’t we friends now?” Julie stifled a yawn. “Sorry. Lillirelda’s amulet is great, but it doesn’t combat sleep regressions.”

“I’m working on the queen mother’s amulet as we speak. Did you want to add something to it, ma’am?”

“You know that’s no better than ‘Your Majesty,’ right?” Julie paused. “I looked at the design you sent me, and it’s great. I want to talk to you about something else.”

Val straightened. “A security assignment?”

Julie laughed. “I know you haven’t had much security work from me in the past few weeks. You kept yourself busy guarding that actor.”

“Arrogant asshat. Glad he left the city,” Val growled. “In one piece, too.”

Julie snorted. “Ready for something more fun than following a rich guy around?”

“Definitely,” Val told her.

“Well, this one’s a doozy. Buckle up. It’s got a backstory.” Julie paused. “While the history books say all paranormal species signed the Pendragon Peace Charter in New Camelot a few years ago, that’s not true. As the Eternity Throne promotes unity in both dimensions, we’ve stumbled upon uncontacted para groups. We didn’t know that some of these guys existed. Others we knew about but thought extinct. Many went into hiding after the First Pendragon War and never came out. Do you follow?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Val crossed her legs, getting comfortable.

“Mistwood North has had minimal contact with the Eternity Throne for the past few centuries. I sent emissaries to check on the paras who live there and see if anyone needs help, and they discovered three female-led elven tribes we’ve never met,” Julie went on. “They call themselves the Ajatar, the Mavka, and the Amazons.”

“Amazons like the river?” Val asked.

“Shared name, that’s all. Seems they moved there from Greece when King Arthur created Avalon, and they’ve been there ever since. They’re strong, independent groups who haven’t had much contact with us, and since they’re getting along fine, we left them alone,” Julie explained. “They know we’re around if they need us, and that’s it.

“Recently, my emissaries reported a conflict between the Ajatar and the Mavka. They aren’t warlike groups. They’re related to the Shajara Elves of Fernwood Deep and the Resurrected Woods. However, trouble between them could cause many deaths. That’s where you come in.”

“You want me to stop the trouble before it starts,” Val guessed.

“That’s right,” Julie told her. “And it should be simple. They are arguing about a magic artifact, Hippolyta’s Girdle, which brings warrior powers to its bearer. The Mavka Elves are sure the Ajatar have it, and vice versa. They’re each bracing for an attack from each other.”

“Who does the girdle belong to?” Val asked.

“That’s the thing.” Julie sighed. “It’s an Amazon Elf artifact. They forged it, and unlike the Mavka and Ajatar, they are warriors. They fortified the border of Mistwood North against the drow to the north. The other elves don’t know it, but the Amazons have kept them safe for centuries.”

“How’d the other elves get the girdle, then?” Val asked.

“Absolutely no idea. We’re trying to figure that out. In any event, we have to find that girdle and return it to the Amazons.” Julie paused. “That’ll prevent the Mavka and the Ajatar from fighting each other, but there’s another advantage. The Amazons are the most reclusive of the three, and we’ve had little luck making contact with them. If we return their girdle, it’ll strengthen our bonds with them.”

“I understand.” Val hesitated. “You’re not sure which group has the girdle, then?”

“Our intel suggests the Ajatar do. That’s where it gets sticky for the OPMA,” Julie explained. “If we sneak in and pinch the girdle, they’ll be unamused. If a neutral second party negotiates, that’s a different matter. Besides, this unrest has the OPMA’s resources stretched thin. My recruiters are working around the clock to pad its ranks, and I’m proud of how the department has grown, but we’ll be shorthanded until the latest group graduates from training.”

“Would we need to infiltrate the Ajatar settlement?” Val asked.

“Not if we act quickly. According to my intel, the Mavka and Ajatar leaders have arranged to meet in a neutral location in Mistwood North at the full moon. That’s tomorrow in Avalon time. That would be the best time to get the girdle. I think it’s the subject of the meeting, so it makes sense for the Ajatar to bring it along.”

“Tomorrow night?” Val asked.

“Yeah. You can use the OPMA portals, so the travel time won’t be long. Tell Liam early so he believes you’ll spend tonight on a plane.”

“Good thinking, Your Majesty. I’d love to help you.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

Val grimaced. “The ball for the dryad king and queen is only a few days away. I’m working on the queen mother’s amulet, but I’m worried that I won’t be able to finish it in time if I go on this mission.”

“Yeah, that’s important, too. The dryad ball will include plenty of creatures from Fernwood Deep, who lost Dragonwall when the Wild Hunt was free. It could get contentious.” Julie paused. “She needs that amulet to keep her safe.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am. I’d love to go,” Val murmured.

“Maybe you still can. Or your team can.” Queen Julie brightened. “Why not send Tetra?”

“Tetra?” Val froze. “On her own?”

“She’s far more formidable in combat than anyone in the Mavka or Ajatar tribes,” Julie pointed out. “I’ll send a diplomat to the Amazons with the girdle when she’s successful, so no worries about her, uh, unique manner.”

“I would have used the word ‘barbarism,’” Val admitted.

“Yeah.” Julie chuckled. “All Tetra needs to do is get the girdle. She could take an army of them in a fight. Besides, she’s a woodland creature, Val. She’ll be great at it.”

“I know.” Val chewed her bottom lip. “What about her banishment?”

“She’s not allowed to return to Fernwood Deep, but that’s not in the same area as Mistwood North. As far as the faerie dad…I mean, the faerie king is concerned, Mistwood North might as well be Bay Ridge. I trust your judgment, Val. If she’s not ready for a solo mission, I accept that.”

Val stared at her boots. “She wouldn’t be solo. She’d have Liam in her ear...if we can swing that on an Avalonian mission.”

“Oh, that’s easy. Tell him the mission is in Africa,” Julie breezed. “Most American humans barely know where to find it on a map. It’s all good.”

Val chuckled. “Okay.” She paused. “I don’t have a reason to say no. I trust her, Your Majesty, and she deserves more independence. I’ll send her.”

“Fabulous!” Julie crowed. “I’ll have my trolls talk to your trolls about the details. Thanks, Val. Oh, no need to tell my mom about the runes, okay? She knows the situation, but I don’t want to freak her out.”

Val nodded. “Yes, ma’am.”

She hung up and stared at the phone for a few seconds. Then, a smile grew on her face, and she bounced to her feet to tell Tetra.

Excitement crawled up and down Tetra’s arms in prickles. She bounded into the garage, her chainmail hauberk jingling around her knees, hidden under a knitted cardigan whose stern navy looked terrific with her bright floral pants.

“You should take a weapon,” Val grumbled for the umpteenth time as she followed Tetra into the garage.

Tetra spun around and flung both fists above her head, thinking of sparks and shockwaves. Explosive faerie dust burst from her hands, a delicious release of pent-up emotion, and popped like firecrackers above her head.

“If you say, ‘I am the weapon’ one more time, I’m throwing you through that window,” Val grumbled. She folded her arms, emphasizing her ability to do so.

“Quit worrying, mother hen.” Tetra held out a hand and twitched her fingers. “Keys, please.”

Genevieve started her engine and snarled.

Val warily eyed the Mustang. “Maybe I should call you an Uber. Seems Genevieve isn’t interested in her favorite drive today.”

Genevieve’s sound changed to a smooth purr.

“C’mon, Val. Gimme those.” Tetra swiped at the keys in Val’s hand.

“Okay, okay. Not a scratch on her, all right? Not a scratch.” Val dropped the keys into Tetra’s palm. “Remember to hold the wheel, and don’t use your phone even though she’s driving. The cops don’t like it.”

“I know. I’ve seen you do it a hundred times.” Tetra bounced the keys and strode to the Mustang. She reached for the front door, which Genevieve opened, slamming the handle into Tetra’s midriff. Tetra stumbled back with a wheeze. She could swear the engine’s stutter sounded like laughing.

“Liam will call me if you need backup at any point.” Val bit her lip.

Tetra leaned on the driver’s door, trying not to look like she’d been sucker-punched in the belly. She met Val’s gaze and tried to hide her smile at the worry in the dwarf’s eyes. “Quit worrying, Val. I’ll be fine.”

Val scowled, tawny skin wrinkling over her elegant features. “I’d like you to be careful.”

“I’d like you to unwad your panties and relax.” Tetra dropped into the driver’s seat. “Bye!” She patted the wheel. “To the OPMA headquarters!”

Genevieve responded with a throaty shriek. Tetra had enough time to wave goodbye before the Mustang plunged from the garage and bellowed down the street.

Tetra puffed as she hustled down the plain, quiet hallways in the military wing. She’d been here with Val to use the portal room, but paras still gave her curious glances. They seemed too busy to stop and ask questions. Hurrying feet and ringing phones sounded from offices all around her.

Val’s OPMA contact Major Raven Ardelean stood at the door to the portal room. She scowled into her phone. “Yes, but freedom of speech is a thing. No, Corporal, I am not budging on those orders. Until there’s violence, you will not have your soldiers draw their weapons. Got it?” She scoffed. “Yeah, I thought so. I’ll monitor the situation. Don’t try to go over Overwatch’s head again, either. He’s in command for a reason.”

“Raven?” Tetra prompted.

Raven hung up, shaking her head. “Seriously? Trigger-happy asshat. Hey, Tetra. Thanks for helping us out.”

“Doing my job.” The faerie shrugged.

“I was going to ask if you’d brought warm clothes, but I see you have that covered.” Raven nodded at the pile of coats and sweaters in Tetra’s arms. “You can put them on. You’ll need them the moment you step through the portal.”

“Winter in Avalon?” Tetra asked.

“Spring, actually, but Mistwood North didn’t get the memo. Val explained the mission, right?”

“Yep.” Tetra dumped the clothes on the floor. She stripped off the cardigan, then piled sweaters over her hauberk, finishing with a fur-lined trench coat and a fluffy hat. “Gatecrash the meeting and take the girdle, non-lethal measures only.”

“Are you armed?” Raven asked. “Wait, forget I asked. I served with faeries. You don’t need to be armed.”

Tetra grinned and slapped mittened hands against each other. “Let me at them, Raven.”

“Raring to go, I see.” Raven laughed. “This way.”

They stepped into the large, wood-paneled portal room. Circular portals seven feet across hummed in every wall. This time, Tetra didn’t look at the other portals. She followed Raven to the one that led to Mistwood North, judging by the snowflakes blowing across the wooden floor and the hazy outline of trees visible through the portal’s mirage-like shimmer.

“Your comm guy will call us if you need backup. Remember, non-lethal measures only,” Raven told her. “We’re going to make peace, not war.”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it.” Tetra waved a flippant hand. “Bye.”

She braced herself and stepped through the portal. Nausea lurched in her belly, and she tried to hold back dizziness, although her eyeballs felt like they were spinning in their sockets.

The dizziness ebbed, replaced with biting cold kisses as snowflakes melted on her cheeks. Tetra blinked and raised her head. The portal had vanished, and she was alone in a world of snow, ice, and trees. Though the sun was setting, casting a dusky gloom over the landscape, Tetra’s faerie vision easily pierced the growing darkness. The ground sloped sharply at her feet, and pine trees bristled on the flanks of the short but steep hills surrounding her. Snow drifted against the trunks, and dry needles showed up stark brown in places.

She touched her earpiece, activating it.

“Tetra! You’re there already?” Liam Miller asked.

Tetra could picture the handsome human nervously squinting at his laptop.

“Yep, here I am. Africa.” She cleared her throat.

“Okay. There’s no CCTV coverage in your area,” Liam told her.

Tetra scoffed. “No shit.” She turned slowly, taking in the still woods, the snow falling so slowly it seemed to hang in the air. Nothing stirred.

“I’m tracking your earpiece. Looks like your agency’s drop point is a couple of miles from the meeting place.” Liam paused. “They said the meeting would start at moonrise, so you have half an hour to get there.”

“Better get walking, I guess.” Tetra shoved her hands into her pockets and trudged off. Her boots crunched on fallen pine needles and frost. At first, she heard nothing except her footfalls. Her breath curled around her face as steam. After a few minutes of plodding, Tetra’s faerie senses showed her that Mistwood was far more alive than she’d thought. Many trees had dark eyes that followed her as she plodded past them. Small creatures chittered on branches too distant for her to see.

“Elevation data suggests you’re approaching a hilltop,” Liam chipped in.

Tetra scowled. “I can see that with these things called ‘eyeballs.’”

“No need to be snippy.” Liam sniffed. “I wanted to tell you that you’ll probably be able to see the meeting place from there.”

Tetra grabbed a slippery, frosted branch and used it to haul herself over a giant root. The branch twitched under her hands, but she ignored it. Hibernating dryads could be weird like that.

Breathing hard, she paused on the other side of the root and looked across a narrow valley where a half-frozen creek cut through the landscape. It wound between the steep hills, clear water murmuring between ice shelves on its banks. Tiny young hafgufa—whale-like creatures with scales as dark as obsidian—twirled and circled in the water. A family of wild boars with golden bristles rooted on the banks.

“You’re looking right at it,” Liam chipped in.

Tetra dragged her gaze from the enormous boar’s solid gold tusks. Liam was right. Directly across from her, barely visible through a break in the trees, a circle of stones marked the meeting place. Each stone was about three feet tall, uncut and jagged, placed at regular intervals around the hill’s crown like Friar Tuck’s hairdo in the stupid movies Val liked.

Tetra sensed little magic coming from the stone circle and saw no runes. It was a bunch of rocks in a ring. Nothing like the powerful, complicated magic upon Fernwood Deep’s Seven Hills, where she’d frolicked with other faeries every Beltane.

“I see it,” she muttered to Liam, trying to crush the sudden pang of longing that ran through her.

“Five minutes to moonrise. Hurry if you want to hide before they get there,” Liam hissed.

Tetra fought through deep snow down the other side of the hill. At the first whiff of her scent, the boar herd galloped into the woods with surprising speed for such hulking creatures. She paused at the creek’s bank to send a blast of faerie dust up the hill, melting the snow with a sizzle and making her tracks invisible. Her burning hand turned cold, and she extended it toward the creek. Blue dust trickled from her fingers, and the water turned to ice where it touched.

She scampered over the ice bridge she’d created and picked her way up the thickly wooded hill. The going was easier now, and she darted from tree to tree, wondering if she’d ever get used to her cumbersome human-sized body. Once, she could have made this journey in seconds with a quiet whir of her wings.

“I’m in position,” she whispered, tucking herself between a hawthorn bush and a gnarled tree trunk a few yards from the stone circle.

“Are you hidden?” Liam asked. “We need the element of surprise to get the girdle back.” He laughed. “It’s weird that two tribes put so much stock in a symbolic thing.”

“Uh-huh.” Tetra grunted. “I’m hidden.” She held one palm out, raised her other hand over it, and rubbed her fingers together like she was sprinkling salt over food. Transparent flakes of faerie dust, invisible except for the refracted light, trickled into her hand. She waited until they formed a heap before tossing them lightly over her head.

The transparent dust settled on her skin and clothes, and ripples of invisibility spread over her arms. She tossed a few more handfuls over herself before it rendered her completely invisible.

“What do your elf eyes see now, Legolas?” Tetra smirked.

She detected the thuds of hoofbeats minutes before the first group of elves arrived. An enormous elk stepped from the woods, shaking snow from his antlers. Only six inches long now, with hardly any points, they’d grow to their full splendor by the end of summer. Despite the small antlers, majesty surrounded the elk like his floating, steaming breath. The massive beast bore a leather bridle and a wolfskin blanket, and his elven rider sat tall and proud upon him. She was pale-skinned and had pure white hair despite her youthful face. Her ice-blue eyes cut through the woods, and she carried a spear decorated with hawk feathers at the tip, which was a jagged chip of quartz-laced rock.

More elk followed the first into the stone circle. The elven warriors wore deerskin robes and carried clubs and javelins. Their elk pawed the ground and tossed their heads.

The leader raised her spear and yelled something in a harsh, guttural language Tetra didn’t understand. The others cheered.

“Oh, shit,” she whispered.

“Wait, it’s okay. I prepared for this.” Liam didn’t bother to hide the smugness in his tone. “The earpiece has a translation function beyond anything I’ve seen before. Let me activate it for you.”

The leader yelled something else. This time, the others laughed.

“Liam, hurry up,” Tetra hissed.

Suddenly, the leader’s words unscrambled themselves. Tetra saw her mouth forming strange syllables, yet English ran through her head when the elf spoke.

“As always, the Mavka show respect to our neighbors,” she called. “Unlike the Ajatar.”

The group cheered.

Heavy feet padded on snow, and the Mavka abruptly fell silent. A mighty moose burst from the woods and plunged into the stone circle, snorting and tossing his enormous head. The elk looked like ponies next to him. Several other moose followed and skidded to a halt on the snow-slick ground. Their riders sat on brightly woven blankets and steered their mounts with red rope bridles.

“The Ajatar have arrived!” their leader yelled, her dark brown hair standing up in ragged spikes to show off the tattoos down the back of her neck. She brandished a club over her head: a moose femur with a leather-wrapped grip at the thinner end.

“Stole my idea,” Tetra muttered.

The Mavka leader scoffed. “You always have to make an entrance, don’t you?”

“Of course I do.” The Ajatar leader petted her moose’s neck, soothing it. “We Ajatar command awe and respect!”

One Mavka leaned toward the other. “Covering up for being late.”

“I can hear you, fool,” the Ajatar leader hissed.

“He is no fool. Where are your manners?” the Mavka leader demanded. “You called this meeting, then dared to make us wait for you. The moon has already risen.” She pointed accusingly at the distant half-full disc that shed silvery light on the world.

“You Mavka are so set on your rituals.” The Ajatar leader sneered. “They cannot save you.”

The Mavka leader tensed. “Why would we need saving? We have fortified cities. We have speed.”

“You do not have what we do,” the Ajatar leader hissed. “Your precious cities will soon be ours, and my people will play on your rich hunting grounds. We called you here to allow you the opportunity to surrender peacefully before harm comes to your people.”

The Mavka leader raised her chin. “Why would I surrender to a tribe that has never been able to conquer us?”

“Because we now have the means to bring all of you to your knees!” The Ajatar leader’s eyes flashed as she raised her club. “We have the Girdle of Hippolyta!”

A gasp rippled through the Mavka. Several screamed, and their elk trampled and tossed their heads.

“No,” the Mavka leader cried. “You cannot.”

“All you have will soon be ours,” the Ajatar leader trumpeted. “Bring out the girdle!”

She extended her club toward a warrior riding behind her. He kicked his moose forward and raised something wrapped in cloth.

Tetra tensed. “I think I have eyes on the girdle.”

“Get ready,” Liam growled.

The Ajatar warrior shook the fabric off with a flourish and held up the magnificent girdle. It bent and folded like leather yet gleamed like gold. Sheaths, pouches, and loops hung from it, ready for weapons. Embossed designs showed swordsmen poised for battle and archers with drawn bows.

It was ancient. Its workmanship was not as delicate as the stuff Val made, but Tetra’s skin prickled at the power oozing from the artifact. Her heart pumped faster, and acid stung her fists, ready for release in gusts of flesh-melting dust. She struggled to hold it back.

The Ajatar warriors tightened their grips on their weapons and turned to the Mavka with wide grins. Battle madness shone in their eyes like in Val’s when someone’s life was in danger.

“Surrender now!” the Ajatar leader roared.

“Okay, that’s my cue.” Tetra stood up and shook the invisibility dust off her skin. She bunched her hands into fists. As the Mavka leader swung her spear toward the Ajatar, Tetra charged, punching one fist forward. Caustic faerie dust sliced through the spear’s shaft, and the tip tumbled to the ground.

The Mavka leader screamed, and her elk reared as she drew a stone knife from her belt. Tetra hit her in the chest with a blast of stun dust. The woman slumped over the elk’s neck.

“Chaaaa—” the Ajatar leader began.

Tetra fired a bolt of numbing dust into the moose’s legs. It bellowed as its limbs collapsed. The leader tumbled from the fallen beast, her club rolling from her fingers. The battle-mad Ajatar jerked their attention away from the Mavka and focused it on Tetra as she crouched before them, fists raised to her face, caustic dust trickling from her fingers and sizzling when it touched the ground.

“Come at me, bitches,” Tetra hissed. “That girdle’s coming with me.”

“What in Merlin’s name is that?” one Ajatar hissed.

The leader’s eyes widened and she slowly backed away, looking around for her club. “That’s a faerie.”

“You bet I am.” Tetra grinned. “A hungry one, too.”

The Mavka screamed and booted their elk into a gallop, then disappeared into the woods.

Tetra beckoned with one hand. “You wanna piece of me?”

The warrior nearest the girdle roared and slammed his heels into his moose. It effortlessly hurdled its fallen comrade and landed inches from Tetra. She whirled and sent a blast of stun dust into the warrior’s face. He tumbled over the moose’s haunches and landed with a heavy thud a few yards away.

“Anyone else?” Tetra asked.

The Ajatar exchanged glances.

Tetra stepped nearer the still-unarmed leader. “Or I could start snacking.”

“No!” the leader shrieked. “Give her the girdle! I’m not getting eaten!”

The warrior flung the girdle in Tetra’s direction. She snatched it out of the air, and heat coursed through her veins like she’d received an intravenous injection of liquid fire. Caustic faerie dust gushed from her clenched fists. When she inhaled, the air felt like it was filled with needles, yet it was the most invigorating sensation she’d ever experienced. She threw back her head and laughed. Wisps of faerie dust emerged with her breath, and the Ajatar screamed in terror.

Tetra lowered the girdle. She felt like she could leap from mountaintop to mountaintop and crush a moose’s skull with her bare hands, but she merely met the Ajatar leader’s eyes and grinned, showing her sharp teeth.

The leader scrambled to her feet. Glancing at her stumbling moose—the numbing had almost worn off—she hesitated.

“Don’t worry,” Tetra snarled, her tone carrying unnatural depth. “I prefer far juicier prey.”

The elf screamed, flung herself onto her moose, and kicked it into a gallop. They raced into the woods, and the elves vanished in clouds of smoke.

“Tetra? Tetra?” Liam squawked. “Please respond!”

Tetra wondered how long the poor guy had been yelling in her ear.

“I’m good, Liam.” She turned the girdle over, inspecting its hooks and loops. “I’ve got it. No casualties. They all ran away.”

“Somehow, I’m not surprised.” Liam sighed. “Okay, let me guide you back to the drop point for the agency to pick you up.”

Tetra threw the girdle over her shoulder and strutted through the woods with the confidence of an apex predator, whistling a battle hymn of her people.

“Uh, are you okay?” Liam ventured.

“Okay? I’m awesome!” Tetra threw back her head and bellowed the words, sending birds scattering from the treetops.

“Sorry I asked,” Liam mumbled.

Tetra almost skipped through the snow, borne on a tide of achievement and the war magic of Hippolyta’s Girdle.

CHAPTER FOUR

Val had taken a taxi to the Iron Fist, and she didn’t like the feeling—nor the driver, who’d insisted on a ten-dollar tip for letting Shadow into the car. She scowled into her half-empty glass, rubbing Shadow’s ribs with her toe.

He sighed.

“I know, dude. What an asshat,” she muttered.

“Who?” Enzo inquired, hurrying past with a tray of glasses.

“Taxi driver,” Val grumbled.

“Oh. Tetra still has Genevieve?” Enzo asked.

Val scowled. “Not for much longer.”

Shadow raised his head, ears pricked. Despite the bar’s hubbub and the thumping music, Val heard it too: the unmistakable bellow of Genevieve’s engine.

She grinned and straightened. “Shot of faerie wine, please,” she whispered as Dante hurried past.

He gave her a thumbs-up and disappeared into the office.

The wooden door crashed open, and Tetra strode into the Iron Fist, clutching Genevieve’s keys. She was dressed far too warmly for a New York summer.

“There she is!” Val raised her glass. “The returning hero!”

A deep blush raced across Tetra’s cheeks. She tried to smirk it away but couldn’t hide the excitement in her eyes.

Liam, Isabella, and Jess pushed into the bar behind the faerie. The three humans slapped her on the back, grinning. Shadow bounded around them, ramming his nose into hands and crotches, his tail high and wagging hard.

“A toast!” Val bounced to her feet and hopped onto the bar with an ease that surprised her. The drills at the MMA gym had clearly paid off. “A toast to Tetra and Liam for completing their first solo security mission!”

A rousing cheer came from the bar patrons, and they raised their glasses to Tetra.

Val jumped down and ushered Tetra into her favorite seat at the bar’s end. Val sat beside her, with Liam, Jess, and Isabella on her other side. Dante arrived with the shot of faerie wine.

“Yeah!” Tetra’s eyes gleamed at the sight. She knocked the potent wine back in a single gulp and burped noxious green and yellow fumes.

“Raven tells me you got it done in record time.” Val beamed. “No casualties, no indication of OPMA involvement, and no trouble.”

“Used a bit of stun dust, but that’s about it.” Tetra shrugged. “You were right. Those elves were easy.”

“Hey, don’t diminish it.” Val mock-punched her shoulder. “You kicked ass. Own it.”

“Thanks, Val.” Tetra flushed and looked into her empty glass. “Thanks for giving me the opportunity.”

“Anytime.” Val slapped her back.

The door opened, and the bar abruptly fell silent. Captain Bianca Hartshorn, the leader of the OPMA, had that effect on people. She strutted into the bar in knee-high leather boots with stiletto heels. Golden curls fell in enviable profusion around her shoulders and down to her waist. She wore skin-tight black leggings and a flattering red leather jacket that matched her lipstick.

Her smile struck half the bar dumb, cornflower-blue eyes dancing as she strode to the empty seat beside Tetra. Unlike the humans present, Val could see the elegant twists of her gazelle horns and the leathery wings folded on her back. They made her even more striking.

“What’s up, Val?” Bianca clapped her on the back. “Barkeep, the strongest shit you’ve got.” She added a wink that sent Dante scurrying for the faerie wine.

“Who’s your friend, Val?” Jess asked in a sensible tone. Liam’s jaw hung open. Isabella leaned over and pressed it shut with a fingertip.

“This is Bianca.” Val paused. “She’s, uh, she’s high up in the agency we work for.”

“Ooohhh, the secret agency.” Isabella nodded knowingly. “Good to see that a kick-ass woman’s in charge of that.”

“Girlfriend, you have no idea.” Bianca beamed. “Wow, those earrings. Where’d you get them? They are amazing!”

Isabella grinned. Val glanced at Tetra as Dante brought another round of drinks, and the faerie gave a barely perceptible shrug. She had no idea why Bianca was here either.

Bianca bided her time over her shot glass and only spoke to Val when Liam, Jess, and Isabella were engaged in a heated argument over whether Niger and Nigeria were the same country.

“You told them you were going to Africa, didn’t you?” the succubus murmured.

Tetra shrugged. “It worked.”

“Almost always does.” Bianca chuckled. “Listen, I stopped by to show you the results of your mission.”

“Already saw them.” Tetra smirked. “Elves running for the hills.”

“There’s more to it than that.” Bianca winked as she pulled out her phone, which had a glittery firetruck-red case. “Check this out. It’s a bodycam video from a small team I sent to take the girdle back to the Amazons.”

She propped the phone on a beer glass. Val and Tetra leaned closer to watch the shaky footage, which showed a forest draped in deep snow.

[snow crunching], the caption read.

The bodycam wearer turned, and Val saw their shadow on the snow: long and canine, with pricked ears that suggested the wearer was a wolf, like the two that trotted alongside them, one black, one gray.

Here. This is the arch. The black wolf’s lips moved in sync with the subtitles.

The wolves came to a halt. The gray wolf stepped forward, tail gently waving. She carried an object wrapped in leather in her jaws. Hippolyta’s Girdle, Val guessed. All three wolves stared intently at a natural arch formed by two trees with interlocking branches.

Moments passed before a huge, shambling form appeared behind the mist. It materialized into a polar bear, moving with effortless grace on all fours. A tall elf sat on its back, and Val’s skin prickled with a sense of danger. The elf wore a white cloak that spilled over the bear’s haunches. Her hair was short, with designs clipped into the sides: lightning bolts and swords. The elf had slung a longbow, a quiver, and a broadsword on her back.

The wolves lowered their heads in unison.

Fearsome warrior, we come from the Eternity Queen. The black wolf kept his head down. We bear something we believe belongs to you.

The Amazon warrior said nothing, but her eyes narrowed.

The gray wolf stepped forward and lowered the bundle to the snow, then pawed the leather aside. She backed away as the gold girdle sparkled in the sun. Tetra had told Val that the girdle’s power was akin to that of Gaia’s Sickle, and Val believed it when she saw the look on the Amazon’s face.

The woman swung down from her polar bear and strode to the artifact. She fastened it around her waist, and her shoulders tensed. Confidence flooded her expression. She raised her chin, hands resting on the girdle, and finally spoke. This girdle has been lost to my people for a hundred years. You honor us with its return.

The gray wolf bowed her head.

The Amazon turned and sprang onto her polar bear, then hesitated. Your queen has long requested that I send a delegate to her council. I will repay this kindness by doing so.

She wheeled the bear around, and they vanished into the mist.

Bianca lowered the phone as Tetra stared at her.

“Wait, do I have this right?” Val leaned forward. “The Amazons will join the Eternity Council because of what Tetra did?”

“In part.” Bianca grinned. “But yes. This will benefit the Amazons and the rest of us. Working together is always better.” She nudged Tetra. “What do you think of that, eh?”

Tetra grabbed Val’s beer and took a shaky gulp. “Wow. I didn’t actually think it’d work.”

“It did. Great job, Tetra.” Bianca chuckled. “Now the throne can support those elves far better. I’m sure we’ll learn much from them, too.”

“You did well.” Val elbowed the faerie. “Accept it.”

Tetra stared into her empty glass, then straightened with a grin. “A beer, Dante!” she called. “We need to celebrate.”

“Merlin’s ankles, yeah.” Bianca chugged the last of her wine. “Want to make it interesting?”

Tetra smirked. “Are you challenging me to a drinking competition?”

“Maybe.” Bianca raised her empty glass to the three humans. “You guys joining us?”

“No, thank you.” Liam laughed. “We have to work in the morning, and I know how much those two girls can drink.”

Val grinned. “Ha! You ain’t seen nothing yet, boy.”

A round of beers arrived, and the three para women seized them and knocked them back as one. Cheers resounded around the bar, and a delicious buzz filled Val’s veins. She felt good about her choices until the seventh beer. Tetra wobbled on her seat, but Bianca Hartshorn was still cracking jokes. By the ninth, Tetra was face-down on the bar, and Val wanted to throw up. Bianca was just getting started.

“Okay, people!” The captain bounded onto the bar. “Alexa, play ‘Run the World!’”

The bar didn’t have an Alexa, but Enzo played the song, and the world spun around Val as the succubus danced. Her high-heeled boots slipped between empty glasses, steady and sure.

Three days later, the hangover’s remnants still stung the corners of Val’s eyes when the sun reflected in Genevieve’s rearview mirror. She grimaced and twisted it away as the Mustang sped down a highway between rolling hills dotted with golden-fleeced sheep.

“Remind me not to challenge a succubus to a drinking contest again,” she muttered.

Shadow barked from the passenger seat.

“Ow.” Val winced. “Shhh.”

She glanced at the backseat, checking on the velvet box containing the queen mother’s amulet. The dryad ball was the next day. Val could not believe she’d finished it in time.

She took the off-ramp toward the magnificent hilltop palace. A massive wall surrounded the complex, and round towers and turrets jutted into the evening sky.

Val waved at the glawackus in the guard house and drove between the gates, which had griffin guards in every niche. Genevieve steered herself through the courtyards since she knew the way to the queen mother’s quarters and stopped at the base of a round tower near the wall.

“Hey!” someone yelled as Val exited the Mustang. A human leaned from a third-floor window, waving. “Up here, Valerie! Lovely to see you! Come on up!”

Val entered the squat tower and followed a stone spiral staircase to the third floor. The door stood open, and a griffin guard lay before it with his leonine head on his paws. He raised it as Val approached, sniffed once, and then inclined his head at the door.

“Thank you, sir,” Val mumbled.

She stepped over his enormous paws, which were larger than her outspread hand, and shuffled into a cluttered living room where a bespectacled human sat on the couch. He smiled and waved at her, then returned to the pegasus racing on TV.

“In here, honey!” Rosa called. “In the kitchen!”

Val literally followed her nose. The delicious aroma of balanced spices led her through the living room into a kitchen decorated in bright reds and oranges. The arched window stood open, allowing the evening breeze to waft fragrant steam across the room from the pots on the stove and a diffuser on the counter. The blend of eucalyptus and chili was both confusing and pleasant.

Rosa beamed from behind the stove. “Come on in, sweetie! Have a seat. Ooohh, is that my amulet?”

“Uh, yes, ma’am,” Val croaked. “That’s why I’m here.”

“None of that ‘ma’am’ nonsense, Valerie. We go way back, remember?” Rosa abandoned the stove and bounced to the kitchen table. “Now, sit! Coffee?”

“Sure. Thanks.” Val sagged into a chair.

“Aw, hi, doggo!” Rosa crooned to Shadow. “Hi, big boy! Look at you. Aren’t you the best boy? He looks so much better, Valerie. Did you try the comfrey for his leg?”

“Uh...” Val began.

Rosa had no intention of listening. “You should give him fenugreek for his coat. It’ll make him even shinier! Do you want a treat, big guy?” Rosa crooned. “Let’s see what I have for you.”

“He’s had dinner,” Val mumbled.

Rosa fished around in the fridge and pulled out half a raw steak. She tossed it to Shadow, who snapped it down.

Val didn’t ask why Rosa had a raw steak ready and waiting. She hoped it wasn’t meant for her TV-watching husband Ernesto, who’d always been nice to Val.

“Now, where was I? Coffee! Amulet! That’s right.” Rosa hit the button on a fancy coffee machine and sat opposite Val. “Ooh, I can’t wait to see it!”

Val smiled. “I think you’ll like it.”

“Of course I’ll like it, honey. You made it.” Rosa beamed as she opened the box, then shrieked, which made Val jump. “Merlin’s wonderful blue eyes, Valerie! Look at this thing!”

She raised the wrought iron amulet, whose decorative claws held a ruby the size of Val’s fist. The dwarf had hidden the runes beneath the ruby so the queen mother wouldn’t know they were there.

“Oh, Valerie,” Rosa crooned. “Look at it sparkle. It’s exactly what I wanted.” She held it against her chest and checked her reflection in the microwave door. “Wow. Wow! It’s going to be perfect with my dress. Would you like to see?”

Val nodded. “Sure.”

Rosa spent ten minutes searching for her phone before finding it in the bright red breadbox. She squinted at the phone and furiously swiped with one finger before she handed the phone to Val. “There! Don’t you think it’ll be magnificent?”

Val blinked. In a word, the dress was bold. Sequins dotted the glittering red fabric, which hugged Rosa’s figure from top to bottom. The ruffled V-neck plunged daringly low. Its column skirt draped over hips far more youthful than her actual age, thanks to Queen Julia’s rejuvenating lunar magic, and a slit ran up her left thigh to hip height.

“Whoa,” Val managed.

“Right? That ruby is going to be amazing with it.” Rosa gave a chef’s kiss. “I love it.”

“I think you’re going to look great.” Val grinned. “Well, even more great than usual.”

“Oh, listen to you.” Rosa laughed and snapped a dishcloth in Val’s direction. “Here’s your coffee, my love.”

“Thank you.” Val accepted a mug with an impressionist cat in bright colors on the side and raised it to her lips. Incredibly, the coffee was exactly the way she liked it.

Rosa chuckled at her expression. “I had the brownies put a Bran Galed charm on the coffee machine, honey. It makes your coffee precisely as you want it.” She raised her mug, which had whipped cream towering over the top. “Enjoy!”

Val settled into her surprisingly comfortable chair and sipped the delicious coffee while Rosa bustled around.

“Isn’t the magical world wonderful, honey?” Rosa retrieved a huge terracotta platter from a cabinet and set it on the counter. “All your spells and things. They’re great. Technology is nice and all, but there’s real convenience in magic.”

“Not to mention thaumatech.” Val smiled.

“Of course. Isn’t Qtana a dear? She’s made amazing things for my baby girl over the years. I especially like the poison-alerting cookware in the palace kitchen.” Rosa chuckled, a sound as delicious as Val’s coffee. “Those kitchens are magnificent, but I insisted they add one to my suite when I moved in to be with dear Esme.”

“Dear Esme” was Queen Esmerelda, Val realized, the current queen’s biological mother.

“You were friends with her?” Val asked.

“Friends?” Rosa smiled, eyes misty. “Honey, we were besties. I was by her side almost every moment after I learned she existed. She was a treasure. A real treasure.” She brushed away a tear as she stirred a pot of something spicy.

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Val murmured.

“It was sad to see Esme go, but she lived her life in pain and weakness for so long. She’s with Luna now, where she’s always belonged. She would be so proud to see how Julia has taken over the kingdom.” Rosa’s bubbly tone came back. “Now, do you eat spicy food, sweetie?”

“Um, yes.” Val hesitated. “But⁠—”

Rosa shushed her. “No buts. I have to give you this recipe.” She pulled out the tray of a gigantic air fryer, releasing savory smells. “It’s quick and easy. You do have an air fryer, don’t you?”

“I order takeout a lot,” Val admitted.

“Oh, honey.” Rosa stared at her in dismay. “All those additives! Think of your arteries, never mind the refined carbs. Your poor bowels must be dreadful. I’m sure I have a spare bottle of aloe vera juice here somewhere.”

“Uh...” Val began.

“Here!” Rosa slammed a plastic bottle of green fluid on the table. “Drink this every day. It’ll sort you out. So many benefits!”

“Um, thanks,” Val managed.

“No problem. The magical world has solutions to many problems, but constipation isn’t one of them.” Rosa wagged the tongs at her, then fished a corn cob from one of the pots and set it on the plate. “Magic can’t fix everything, can it, Valerie?”

“No,” Val murmured, dropping her eyes to the table.

“It brings its own set of difficulties,” Rosa murmured, “but it’s sure beautiful here.”

Val sighed. “I wish my human friend could see it.”

“Julia’s told me about him. Liam, isn’t it? She thinks he’s a talented ops manager, whatever that is.” Rosa waved a spoon.

“He’s great. I couldn’t do our missions without him,” Val admitted. “I have to keep so many secrets. He knows I keep secrets, though he thinks they’re government secrets, not magic, but it still doesn’t sit right with me. At the same time, I understand why we protect humans from the paranormal world.”

“Vice versa, too.” Rosa piled empanadas on the plate and shook paprika over the corn. “Plenty of humans out there’d be happy to exploit the vulnerable paras Julia works so hard to protect.”

“I guess. Liam’s not one of them. Still, if he knew about paras, maybe it’d put him in danger.” Val sipped coffee. “I’ll do anything to keep him safe—even lie to him. Still makes me feel terrible, though.”

“For what it’s worth, honey, I’ve never regretted moving to Avalon.” Rosa smiled. “Not once.”

“Really?” Val asked. “Weren’t you at the Second Battle of Tintagel? I heard it was one of the most brutal conflicts in the war.”

“It certainly was. A lot of good paras lost their lives that day. Ernesto and I were almost among them, too. Those nasty black magic creatures were at our door.” Rosa shuddered. “Julia saved us. That was the day she became the incarnation of Luna.”

“That wouldn’t have happened to you if you’d never learned the para world exists,” Val pointed out.

Rosa chuckled. “The human world isn’t safe either. This one is filled with wonder and joy. No, I don’t regret it for a moment.”

“It is more dangerous for you here, though,” Val insisted. “Especially since you’re the queen mother.”

Rosa considered her words. “Has it been dangerous? Sure. I never had attempts on my life in West Brighton unless you count the odd mugger. Julia’s enemies seem to think I’m a soft target to get to her. But I wouldn’t exchange it for the world.” She winked. “Not even when my daughter has my jewelry maker add protective magic to my necklace for a state occasion.”

Blood rushed to Val’s cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, sweetie. You’re both trying to protect me. I love that.” Rosa beamed. “Now, eat up before it gets cold.”

She pushed the plate across the table to Val, whose jaw dropped. It contained a feast: a pile of golden empanadas, a mound of spicy beans and rice, corn on the cob soaked with butter and paprika, and an avocado and tomato salad drenched with cilantro lime dressing. The combination of smells and colors made her mouth water.

Shadow sniffed the air.

“Ma’am, I couldn’t possibly—” Val began.

“Shhhh.” Rosa shoved a fork into her hand. “Eat.”

Val couldn’t resist. She pierced an empanada with the fork, and spicy, meaty juices trickled out. The incredible combination of flaky dough and spicy filling made her groan with pleasure when she popped it into her mouth.

“See?” Rosa chuckled. “I’m glad you like it. Julia and Taylor are bringing my sweet Lilli over for dinner, and I’m making all their favorites.”

“This is amazing,” Val moaned with her mouth full.

“Well, there’s plenty of extra food. You have a roommate, don’t you?” Rosa bustled around, gathering aluminum foil and containers.

Val decided it was wisest not to protest. As she bit into the corn, filling her mouth with flavors, she could see why the queen would do anything to protect this sweet human.

She was halfway through the plate when Rosa sat opposite her and fixed her with a steady look. “You’re still thinking about Liam, aren’t you?”

Val nodded. “I’m wondering if there’s a way for him to be part of the para world like you are.”

Rosa shrugged. “I know Eternity Law says that changelings’ adoptive parents automatically have full rights to Avalon, like any para. The law also decrees that humans should be protected from all paranormal activities. I don’t know what it says about other humans, though.”

Val sighed. “I guess it’s forbidden.”

“I don’t know, honey.” Rosa smiled. “You’ll have to ask my baby girl about that.”

“I don’t want to bother the queen,” Val admitted.

“Nonsense.” Rosa chuckled. “She’s there for you, too. Ask her when you see her again. She will know, and she might change the rules for you.”

“She can do that?” Val asked.

“Oh, honey.” Rosa beamed. “Julia has done whatever she wants all her life, Eternity Queen or not.”

CHAPTER FIVE

Vanguard MMA smelled like vinyl, sweat, and tortilla chips. Val strode inside, duffle bag over her shoulder, and grinned at the bustling interior. On Friday nights, Vanguard was always extra busy. Fighters sparred in every arena. Chairs lined the walls, and teenagers goofed off, snacking on the fragrant chips and yelling encouragement to their favorite fighters.

“There she is!” someone boomed from the front desk.

Three burly guys strode over and exchanged high-fives with Val. Archibald, Buck, and Henry towered over her, but they appreciated cage fighting from a distance. Ice hockey was their chosen hobby.

Val beamed. “What’s up, guys?”

“Hey.” Tetra sauntered into the gym behind Val.

“Hi, Tetra,” Archibald squeaked.

Tetra swallowed. “Hey.”

Val slapped Buck on the back. “How’s the ankle?”

“Getting there.” Buck slung an arm around Val’s shoulders. “Rumor has it you’ve got a tough session tonight.”

“Oh?” Val raised her eyebrows. “Diego in a bad mood?”

“Not yet.” Henry chortled. “But he hasn’t made his rounds yet.” He nodded toward the gym’s main floor. “There he goes now.”

Diego Lopez, the gym owner and Val’s coach, strolled among the teenagers watching the sparring. Lines of punching bags and other gym equipment on the opposite wall took heavy punishment as fighters ran through drills, but Diego wasn’t watching them. He exchanged fist bumps and in-jokes with the teens. His easy smile remained in place until he paused by a gawky girl in a baggy hoodie. Diego’s eyes narrowed, and he murmured something. Her lower lip trembled, and she looked away. Diego smiled and kept talking, then pointed at the young woman at the reception desk. The girl nodded, dragged the back of her hand over her eyes, and shuffled across the gym. The young woman hugged her.

“He always knows when they’ve had a relapse, huh?” Val murmured.

“Doesn’t happen often. Once Diego helps them, many of these kids straighten up. Did you see that the fundraiser fight last month bought three of them another semester in college?” Buck asked.

Val grinned. “Uh-huh.” The fundraiser hadn’t met its target until an “anonymous donor” topped off the Vanguard account, which provided opportunities to many at-risk teens in Brownsville.

Diego’s brow creased with worry as he crouched beside one of the girl’s friends and chatted with her in a low voice.

“He looks concerned, not pissed,” Val observed. “I think you’re wrong about that hard session, Buck.”

Buck snorted. “Diego’s mood has nothing to do with it.” He nodded at the back of the gym. “That guy does, though.”

Val hesitated. “Shit. Is that Dwayne Martins?”

The man wore shorts and a sleeveless shirt with another gym’s logo splashed across the front in loud colors. His angled brows and dark buzz-cut hair exuded a don’t-screw-with-me vibe alongside his intense blue eyes and tattooed biceps, which rippled when he folded his arms. His shorts revealed lean, ripped calves and bare feet.

“Sure is.” Henry grinned. “You’re sparring with him tonight.”

“But he’s a pro fighter!” Val grimaced. “He KOed Joe at his last UFC fight.”

“Joe and Daniel are pros, too, and you spar with them all the time,” Henry pointed out. “You’ll be fine.”

“Yeah, okay, but that guy is different.” Val swallowed. “He seems...”

“Scary?” Archibald suggested.

Tetra scoffed. “Ha! Nothing scary about him.”

“Yeah, actually.” Val ran a hand over the back of her neck. “He’s terrifying.”

“People say the same about you,” Buck reminded her.

Val thought, I’ll bet he gets to use all his power to fight me. She could throw Dwayne Martins through the wall, but she couldn’t use her full strength in the MMA ring. She’d have to rely on technique.

Judging by how Dwayne studied the other fighters as they sparred, he knew far more than she did.

“All right,” Diego called. He didn’t have to raise his voice for his words to echo around the gym. “Kim, Tommy, that’s enough.”

The two fighters in the nearest ring broke apart, panting and sweating.

“Val!” Diego beckoned. “You’re next. Go warm up.”

Val slipped into the ring and ran through basic exercises to loosen her muscles. She kept her eyes on Dwayne, who approached Kim and Tommy and, given his gestures, explained something to them. Both amateurs, the two fighters gave him starstruck stares and nodded avidly, hanging on his every word.

“Ready, Val?” Diego called.

Val released her ankle, which she’d held in a quad stretch. “Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”

Dwayne grinned. Tetra hopped into the ring to strap Val’s gloves on.

“I think you know who this is.” Diego nodded at the pro. “Dwayne, this is Val Stonehold.”

Dwayne hopped into the arena with lithe grace. “I’ve heard about you, Val. Kicked ass at your latest fight.”

“I’m an amateur,” Val squeaked.

Dwayne gave a slanting grin. “Sorry. Diego’s given me strict instructions not to go easy on you.”

Her coach chuckled. “It’s time you had a real challenge in the ring, Val.”

“Bye, bitch.” Tetra slapped her back and exited.

Dwayne raised his fists. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

“Five rounds,” Diego barked. “Competition rules.” He swung between the ropes to act as their referee. “Let’s go.”

Val lunged with a flying haymaker that Dwayne blocked like it was a spring breeze. She stepped back to catch her balance, but Dwayne’s foot hooked her ankle. She went down on her back, breath huffing from her lungs. Her hands rose to guard her head, and Dwayne seized one with shocking strength. Before Val could react, he’d trapped her in an arm lock that made her shoulder scream. She slapped her free hand against his knee, and he let her go.

“Shit,” Val wheezed.

Dwayne chuckled and gave her a hand up. “You good?”

Val pressed her tongue against her mouthguard, keeping it secure. She had a feeling she might need it today. “Yep.”

“Kick his ass, Val!” Tetra belatedly yelled.

“Yeah, you got this!” Archibald added.

“I do not ‘got this,’” Val whispered.

“Second round. Go!” Diego barked.

This time, Dwayne made the first move. He came at Val with a series of lightning jabs. She blocked them but stumbled back, trying to keep her feet out of his reach. Her hands rose to protect her head, and Dwayne ducked under them to deliver a mighty right hook to her belly. Despite her tense muscles, the blow sent the air rushing from her lungs and startling pain blossoming through her belly. She doubled over and collapsed to her knees. Diego stepped between her and Dwayne, hands raised to shove the pro back.

Val’s vision went red. She fought the scarlet fog as it drenched her blood, filling her with a battle rage that would shatter bones.

“Val, you good?” Diego demanded.

“I’m good,” Val croaked. She regained control and rose fluidly, regarding Dwayne with a new respect. The guy packed a punch any dwarf would be proud of.

“I don’t think I need to explain your mistake, Val.” Diego smirked. “Dwayne’s fist did a good job of that.”

“Sure did.” Embarrassment curled in Val’s stomach, more uncomfortable than the bruise forming on her skin.

“Third round.” Diego raised a hand.

“Get it together, Val!” Tetra bellowed.

“Go!” Diego dropped his hand.

Val focused on her feet, staying out of Dwayne’s reach. His intense eyes watched every move, seeking weakness, but Val did the same. When Dwayne lunged, he exposed his left shoulder for an instant, and Val moved in with a swift jab that knocked him back half a step. She parried his haymaker with a forearm.

Dwayne’s eyebrows rose. “You’re learning, Val.” He chuckled. “Let’s see if you’re learning fast enough.”

He rushed her. Val braced herself, protecting her feet, but he went for her waist and knocked her on her ass. She rolled to her knees, preventing him from getting on top of her, but that wasn’t his aim. His arm locked around her neck and pulled her head against his chest. Darkness swarmed in her vision as the rear naked choke compressed her carotids.

“Shit,” Val croaked. She slapped the mat with one hand, and Dwayne let her go.

“Val, come on,” Tetra yelled unhelpfully. “He’s handing you your ass!”

Shame burned Val’s cheeks. “I know, I know,” she muttered.

She swayed to her feet and cleared her throat. Diego’s unreadable expression made her long for the floor to open up and swallow her.

“Fourth round. Go!” the coach ordered.

Val dropped and aimed a kick at Dwayne’s shin, desperate to take him down and use her weight advantage on the ground. His limb slipped out of the way, and his hands closed around her thigh. Val tried to knock them off, but Dwayne’s shoulder slammed into hers. Her back hit the mat, and Dwayne slipped into a leg-lock.

“Come on,” Val groaned, tapping out for the third time.

Diego scowled as she rolled to her feet. Her hip ached, her solar plexus stung, and she couldn’t decide if she wanted to cry or throw up, but she raised her fists and met Dwayne’s eyes.

“Final round,” Diego barked.

“Val, get your head out of your ass!” Tetra bellowed.

“Tetra!” Henry chided. “She’s trying.”

Anger surged through Val’s veins. She held back the fog as Dwayne rushed her, determined to do this on technical merit instead of magic. This time, she kept her abdomen tense, and his punches slapped tight muscle. They exposed his head long enough that she landed a swift jab on his jaw, and he wobbled. Val went for a leg trip and felt a jolt of shock when Dwayne went down. She lunged, eager to press her advantage home, and her opponent placed a foot on her hip and threw her over his head.

Val flipped in the air, then twisted hard, barely keeping herself from landing on her back. Something wrenched as she landed on one knee and an elbow, but she was quick to scramble over him and start the grapple, preventing him from rising.

Dwayne wasn’t rattled. His arms wrapped around hers, trapping her shoulder in his armpit, and he rotated her elbow out in a kimura hold. Ligaments stretched painfully in her shoulder.

She moved fast, straddling him to pin her arm against herself with the superior strength of her thigh, then used her opposite thigh to drag his legs out of balance. A grunt of effort from Dwayne told her it was working. The pain eased in her shoulder, and Val forced her sweaty feet to the ground and pushed her body up and over his shoulder, countering the kimura by twisting his shoulder as he’d twisted hers.

A strangled sound came from Dwayne’s throat. He slapped his pinned hand against her wrist, and Val rolled away from him, panting.

Merlin’s sake, she thought, but she didn’t have the breath to say it. Her muscles trembled with strain.

Dwayne bounced to his feet like he’d barely warmed up. “You got me good, Val.” He extended a hand to her. “Haven’t had many fighters break out of my kimura.”

Val took his hand, and he hoisted her to her feet. “Thanks,” she muttered, not daring to look at Diego.

“You go, Val!” Buck yelled.

“At least you won one round,” Tetra muttered.

“Tetra!” the three guys chorused.

Val kept her eyes on the mat as Dwayne slapped her on the back and thanked her for the fight.

“Thanks. Cool sparring with you,” Val mumbled.

“Hey, you too. I rarely get to fight someone who does it for a living outside the arena.” Dwayne chuckled. “I won’t forget this in a hurry.”

He bounced between the ropes and headed for his gym bag. Val turned to go, shame burning in her belly, and Diego touched her shoulder. “Hold up, Val.”

She turned to him, toes curling as she raised her gaze to his face.

His smile surprised her. “Congratulations, girl. I didn’t think any of my fighters could submit that guy.”

Val raised her eyebrows. “What about Joe and Daniel?”

“They’re great fighters and even better people, but they’re not on Dwayne’s level.” Diego grinned. “Well done. I’m impressed.”

Val’s back straightened. “You are?”

“He’s not the only one,” Dwayne called as a starstruck teenager unwrapped his gloves. “You’ll kick ass, Val, especially when you’re in a fairer fight.”

Diego chuckled. “Dwayne is trying not to be sexist in saying that you’ll fight in the women’s division.” He unstrapped her gloves.

Val took them off and teased her mouthguard out. “I’ve always fought men.”

“Yes, because you were in amateur fights. While more women have joined MMA in recent years, there’s still an imbalance. Matches can be mixed in the lower, more informal levels,” Diego explained. “But in pro fights, especially in the Ultimate Fighting Championship, the largest fight promotion in the world, you’ll be split into men’s and women’s divisions.”

“Wait, what?” Val raised her eyebrows. “The UFC? You...you think I can fight in that?”

Dwayne laughed. “I’ll be looking for your name in the next one.”

He strolled away, and Val turned to Diego, open-mouthed.

“I think we’re not far away from your first UFC fight. Entries for the next one close in a couple of weeks.” Diego grinned. “We’ll see how training goes until then. Now, go ice your sore spots. I’m sure you have more than one.”

Val squeezed between the ropes and stumbled to her friends.

“UFC, Val!” Henry slapped her on the back.

“Ow,” Val moaned.

“Sorry.” Henry grimaced.

Tetra grinned. “You’ll be great.”

“Your cheerleading skills need work,” Val grumbled.

She staggered to the shower, sore, tired, and grinning.

The bruises were spectacular. She tried covering one on her jaw with makeup but kept her hood up despite the warm weather as she strode along the sidewalk. Pedestrians crowded it on this sunny day, toting coffees and newspapers that rustled in the breeze. Several were on their phones. Val dodged them, keeping Shadow’s leash tight.

When the dog park’s gates appeared, the big dog let out a happy yip. The sidewalk miraculously cleared as most people crossed to the other side of the road.

“Shhh, Shadow,” Val murmured. “You’re scaring the public.”

Shadow didn’t care. His tail waved, and he let out another merry but deafening bark. Passing cars gave him a wide berth as they approached the park. Its tall fence enclosed a flat, grassy space where a few saplings strove to spread their branches. Benches around the edges offered owners a place to chill while their dogs played. All were occupied, and a happy mass of canines bounded around on the grass, all wagging tails and lolling tongues.

Shadow pulled on his leash.

“Cut it out,” Val grumbled. “My arms are sore after yesterday.”

He whined as Val opened the gate and stepped inside. Several dog owners looked up, wide-eyed, and a skinny lady sprinted for her toy poodle as Shadow entered.

“Sit your ass down,” Val ordered.

Shadow sat. His butt wiggled in time with his wagging tail.

“Mind the chihuahuas, okay?” Val unclipped his leash. “Go on.”

Shadow yipped and bounded over to the tide of dogs running laps around the park. Val shoved her hands into her jeans pockets. She’d seen peerless wonders in Avalon, but Shadow running with his doggy pals was more splendid than the Eternal Palace.

Her aching legs begged her to find a place to sit. The bench nearest her had one occupant, a pretty Asian girl reading a book, holding the pages flat against the soft breeze.

Val wandered over. “Mind if I sit?”

The girl glanced up. “Sure. Which one is yours?”

“The big-ass one.” Val pointed.

The girl laughed. “He’s so cute. Mine’s the greyhound. Don’t worry if she cries. She’s a total wimp.”

Val grinned. “Noted.”

The girl’s smile froze. “Wait a second. Aren’t you Valerie Stonehold, the jewelry maker?”

Val shrugged. “Yep.”

“Wow!” The girl straightened. “You made the necklace Nadia Stewart wears in the ballroom scene of her newest film, right? Weren’t you at the premiere? I saw pictures of you on the Internet. That necklace is incredible!”

Val smiled. “Nadia wears it well, but then again, she wears everything well.”

“True, but it’s so cool to meet you.” The girl beamed. “Wow. I can’t wait to tell my boyfriend I met Valerie Stonehold at the dog park.” She blushed. “Do you mind... I mean, can we take a selfie?”

Val shrugged. “Sure.” She touched her bruised jaw. “Excuse this.”

“No problem. You’re, like, a bodyguard too, right?” The girl’s grin widened. “My boyfriend’s going to love this.”

Val leaned closer and offered an obliging smile as the girl tapped the shutter button.

“Thanks so much.” The girl put her phone away. “It’s cool to meet you.”

Val nodded politely but felt relieved as the girl returned to her book. She crossed her legs, wincing at her sore hip, and looked around for Shadow.

He was nowhere to be found in the pack of playing dogs. In the few seconds she spent scanning the park, a cold hand gripped Val’s heart before she spotted him a hundred yards away near the hedge against the back fence. She rose, hands tightening on his leash. Shadow’s hackles were erect down his back, making him look twice his considerable size, and his tail hung low. White flashed as he bared his teeth.

“What do you see?” Val whispered.

She started toward him, scanning the hedge, then spotted his problem: a Sylthana Elf. She’d seen many on New York’s streets, but this one made no effort to blend in. He wore a white robe with a bronze breastplate and a helmet topped with seagull feathers. A scimitar hung at his hip.

Shadow emitted a low, rumbling growl.

“Hey!” Val shouted.

The elf jumped. His eyes were pale against his black-and-blue war paint. Before Val could reach him, he turned and vanished into the shadows like he’d portaled out.

Val grabbed Shadow’s collar, but with the elf gone, the dog’s growl switched off, and his hackles flattened.

“Looked like one of Diana’s guys,” Val growled.

Shadow wagged his tail. The breeze blew his coat the wrong way, making it stand up.

Wait. The breeze.

Val raised her eyebrows. Her troll friend Qenzi had told her that animals could smell magic, but the elf had been downwind from Shadow.

“How did you smell him, dude?” she whispered.

Shadow barked and pulled. Val let him go, and the big animal bounded off to rejoin his friends.

She watched him run, his rich red coat rippling with every stride, and thought about a moment a few weeks ago when Shadow had pointed out a flaw in her work. How had he smelled that? Were animals that sensitive to magic?

Then there was the Sphynx, who showed up at inconvenient moments and walked around on Val’s workbench. Cleo was a pain in the ass, but she was also an all-knowing being of unimaginable magical power.

He’s more than you think, Cleo had told her.

Val hugged herself as goosebumps prickled her back. “More than you think,” she murmured. “I thought she meant more than a pet, but what if she meant more than...more than a dog?”

Shadow stopped running and sniffed the ground. Val tensed, waiting for something magical to happen. Shadow fell on his side, rolled onto his back, and ecstatically rubbed his coat in the dirt. A dreadful stench rose around him.

“Shadow!” Val yelled. “Shadow, no!”

She jogged across the park to stop her dog. Or what was probably her dog, anyway.

In Avalon Town, nobody looked twice at a hundred-pound dog hanging out of Genevieve’s window. Shadow’s tongue lolled, drool flying from his lips and splattering the occupants of a giant-lizard-drawn chariot behind them.

The chariot driver yanked the reins, slowing the lizard.

“He was tailgating anyway,” Val told Shadow, who didn’t seem to care.

She steered down First Street, passing between government buildings ranging from sandstone blocks to sleek modern glass and steel creations. The Eternity Throne’s banners hung everywhere. Genevieve cruised between a guy riding a six-legged antelope and a Dodge Ram truck with a fae at the wheel.

Val’s phone buzzed. She left the wheel to Genevieve, who preferred to drive herself anyway, and checked it.

The text was from Tetra.

You done yet?

Dropped the bracelets at the client’s place. Home yet?

It’s seven in Earth time, idiot. Still at the Iron Fist. Don’t wait up.

Tetra added an eye-roll emoji.

Val sent a middle finger emoji and locked her phone. The truck slammed on its brakes in front of her, and Genevieve honked. The rider gesticulated furiously.

“It’s not me!” Val yelled through the window. “It’s him!” She waved at the truck.

Shadow barked.

“I know, buddy.” Val groaned. “I should’ve known better than to make this delivery during rush hour. First Street traffic is the worst.”

Horns blared, horses neighed, and giant lizards roared. Val sighed and leaned her head back against the seat.

“I live in New York City. I don’t come to the magical world to sit in traffic,” she grumbled.

Shadow whined.

Val gazed at the building to her right. Empty paving surrounded the stone tower that flew the Eternity Throne’s flag from its pointed roof. The newly built annex attached to its south side was square and blockish, with battlements decorating the top. Its arched wooden door stood open, spilling golden light from within despite the absence of windows. A sign over the parking lot announced Avalon Public Library in a medieval font.

“Hey, check it out,” Val murmured. She glanced at Shadow. His tail slapped the seat as he wagged it. “Maybe they’ll know how much magic animals can sense before they stop being animals.”

She hit the indicator and turned out of the traffic-clogged street. Genevieve bumped over the paving and halted in an empty parking space between a horse-drawn carriage and what looked like the Batmobile. Val hoped animals were allowed in the library.

“If anyone asks, you’re a weredog who’s taken a vow of silence.” She opened the door for Shadow to jump out. “Got it?”

Shadow barked.

“Vow of silence, remember?” Val hissed.

She strode to the library door, Shadow walking obediently at her heels. Inside, books covered every surface, from the wall-to-ceiling shelves to the banisters of the double helical staircase rising from the middle. Others lay in haphazard piles on the floor, and there were so many on the reception desk that Val thought no one was in the library until she spotted an Aether Elf between the teetering heaps of books.

Val guessed this place would be paradise to an avid reader. Nooks tucked into the high walls contained comfy couches, good lighting, and snack bars. As she crossed the floor toward the desk, an orc climbed the staircase and faced one of the nooks. Wood clattered, and a rope ladder stretched across the gap.

“Okay, that’s cool,” she whispered.

The elf looked up when she reached the desk.

“Good morning.” She held out a basket containing headphones of different colors. “Take a purple set if you’d prefer no one speaks to you or acknowledges your existence. The yellow ones are for students preparing for exams and signal us to bring you coffee and tissues at regular intervals. The blue ones are for paras who want interaction.” The elf sneered. “They’re not popular.”

“Uh, okay.” Val popped a blue set on her head, smoothing her platinum-blonde curls around it.

The elf gasped, pressing a hand to her chest. “You took the blue set!” she hissed.

“Yeah. Uh, I need help,” Val admitted.

The elf blinked. “Oh. I suppose that’s acceptable.” She sniffed. “My name is Lori Twigtoes. How can I assist you?”

Val rubbed the back of her neck. “I’m not sure my dog is a dog,” she blurted.

Lori leaned over the desk to peer at Shadow. He tilted his head, pricking his floppy ears.

Instead of calling Val crazy, the elf murmured, “Ah, yes. It can be hard to tell.”

“I’m not sure where to start,” Val admitted. “He’s got senses that don’t seem right. Also, I feel like he understands everything I say. I know dog people say that, but how much he understands is insane.” She turned to Shadow. “Dude, check the door.”

Shadow turned to stare at the door.

“See? I didn’t teach him that. He does it on his own,” Val told the elf.

Lori nodded. “I’m not a magical creature expert, but luckily, many writers are.” She beamed. “We have a section on magical creature care and management. It’s a good place to start.”

“Great. Thank you.” Val rubbed Shadow’s head. “I don’t mind what he is. I love him to bits, but I want to take good care of him. Like, onions are poisonous to dogs. What if steak is poisonous to this guy?”

Shadow whimpered.

“I didn’t say it is, buddy,” Val reassured him.

“My husband will show you the way. Honey, could you guide this nice dwarf to the magical creature section?”

Val looked around for a bespectacled Aether Elf. Instead, something snuffled near her knees. She jumped and stared down at a two-foot-high creature so covered in long golden hair that she couldn’t tell which way it was facing. Or if it had a face, for that matter.

The creature snuffled again.

“Uh, hi,” Val managed.

Shadow wagged his tail.

“You might get more answers if you take him to a vet in Avalon. Hold on. I have a business card for one somewhere. You’d be surprised how many people ask about their creatures’ identities.” Lori rummaged around the desk, lifting book piles to look under them. “A lot of suppressed magic is coming out now that we’re in the Second Golden Age.”

I hope it lasts. Val thought about Diana and Kronos.

“Here!” Lori held out a gilded card. “Dr. Wynthorn’s practice is on the outskirts of Avalon Town. He might know about tests to tell what your...dog is without hurting him.”

“Cool. Thanks.” Val took the card.

The golden-haired creature snuffled again and zoomed away. Val had to jog to keep up. He headed up the stairs and paused after two flights, snuffling at a row of books with titles like Show Turnout for Pegasi, Management of Golden-Fleeced Sheep Pastures, and Basan Bantams, an Ideal Pet for Fireproof Paranormals of All Ages.

“Thanks.” Val nodded.

The creature disappeared up the stairs.

Val browsed the bookshelves until her eyes hurt. Her patience was in danger of running out when she stumbled across a heavy leather-bound tome with metal clasps and the title etched in the sharp, straight lines of Runic Dwarvish: RUNIC COMBINATIONS AND DWARVEN BONDING.

Val frowned. She used runic combinations daily in her smithy, but she had no idea what “dwarven bonding” was.

“Gagana and Cleo said shit that made me think you have something to do with the Iron Dwarves, dude,” Val murmured to Shadow.

He lay at her feet, and his tail thumped on the floor in response to her voice.

“Maybe we’ll find some answers here.” Val tucked the book under her arm. “C’mon. All these words are making me nervous.”

He jogged obediently at her heels as she headed downstairs to check out the book.

CHAPTER SIX

Tetra’s dark hair stuck to the sweat on her face. “Val! This is a shitshow.”

Val looked up from the keg of beer she’d opened ten minutes earlier. She had to tip it to get the last drops into the jug. “What?” she shouted over the conversations and music filling the bar.

“I said, ‘this is a shitshow!’” Tetra bellowed.

Several patrons at the bar looked up. They were crammed in. The lucky few who had found seats rubbed elbows with those who had squeezed into the standing room between them.

“Really?” Val cried, dismayed. “We have so much extra help.”

Jeff, their usual bouncer, had the night off. Instead of him, Buck and Henry manned the front door while Archibald defused a heated argument between two girls in heels and short dresses. Buck’s girlfriend Sadie hustled through the crowd in an Iron Fist golf shirt, carrying two trays of empty glasses.

The human was breathless when she reached Val. “Another round of Iron IPA for the second booth.”

“Shit. Already?” Val groaned. “We’re going to run out of beer at this rate.”

“We’re already out of glasses!” Tetra gestured at the empty shelves.

The dishwasher hummed, but its display told Val it had ten minutes to go. Shadow hid under their side of the bar to avoid the crush of feet.

“Okay.” Val groaned again. “I admit it. It’s a shitshow. Sorry, Sadie.”

“No worries.” Sadie grinned. “The guys are having the time of their lives. We’re glad for the extra work on weekend nights.”

“Yeah, but it’s getting too hectic,” Tetra argued. “We need more room, Val.”

“I’ll deal with that after we get through the night, okay?” Val opened the dishwasher. “Rinse these glasses by hand. I’ll grab another keg from the storeroom.”

A few minutes later, she returned to the bar with a full keg of Iron IPA on her shoulder. Tetra bent over the tiny sink, rinsing glasses while Sadie poured beers from a jug.

“If those assholes hadn’t knocked a tray of glasses out of my hand, we might have had enough,” Tetra grumbled.

“It’s okay. Enzo will be here any minute with…oh, there he is!” Val set the keg down.

The orc shouldered through the crowd carrying a cardboard box of new glasses.

“Enzo, you’re saving our lives,” Tetra informed him.

“Busy, isn’t it?” Enzo chuckled. “Here you go.”

“Thank you so much. I’m sorry we bothered you on your night off.” Val took the box.

Enzo laughed. “Are you kidding? Seeing the bar like this was my wildest dream, kid. Making the odd run on my night off is nothing.”

Sadie whisked away with a tray of beer, and Val scanned the bar for raised hands. Everyone still had full glasses, so she pulled up a chair and sagged into it for the first time all night, taking the weight off her aching knees.

“Did you see the line?” Enzo asked.

Val raised her eyebrows. “Is it longer tonight?”

“It’s down the block.” Enzo grinned. “The Iron Fist gets more customers every weekend.”

“We can’t keep up,” Val admitted. “Not even with the three guys helping as bouncers and Sadie at the bar. I’ve been running all night.”

“Yeah, me too.” Tetra rested her ass on the dishwasher. “My feet are killing me, but I’ve made my weight in tips, so that’s cool.”

Enzo’s phone pinged. He pulled it out, and his grin slipped, a frown replacing it.

“Everything okay?” Val asked.

“I’m not sure,” Enzo muttered. “Have a look at this.”

He turned so all three of them could see the screen. The video showed dense woods behind a towering wall. The dark lines of arrow slits peppered the wall, and razor wire crowned the top.

A crowd of paras stood outside the wall, representing dozens of species: werewolves, orcs, elves, fae, vampires, dwarves, brownies, trolls, and many more. They all chanted and held up placards.

The Hunt will be our doom!

Kill the Hunters!

Stop protecting the guilty at the expense of the innocent!

“That one’s a bit wordy,” Tetra observed.

“Protestors?” Val assumed.

Enzo nodded. “The report says they’re gathering in larger numbers than ever, especially in front of the Locker.”

“Shit. Isn’t that the prison where most of the Hunters are being held?” Tetra asked.

“It is, and it’s the highest-security prison in Avalon. Perhaps in either dimension, barring the NYHQ’s containment unit with its upgrades.” Enzo bit his upper lip, tusks pressing into the skin.

“They seem opinionated but peaceful,” Val remarked.

Enzo shook his head. “Keep watching.”

A blue arc sailed over the protestors’ heads and landed with a splash of flame against the wall: magic fire. The flames spread for several seconds before water gushed from one of the arrow slits.

The Locker’s gates opened wide enough to disgorge an armored griffin. “Move back!” he roared. “Back away from the wall!”

Other griffins followed and approached the crowd, growling and menacing, their wings partly unfolded. The crowd retreated but chanted even more vehemently.

“They have a right to protest.” Tetra shrugged. “I think those stupid Hunters should all be beheaded.”

“They don’t have the right to set shit on fire,” Val pointed out.

“That doesn’t make sense anyway.” Tetra shrugged. “Their whole point is that having the Hunters in our dimensions is dangerous. They won’t try to break them out.”

Enzo put his phone away, his lips flattening into a worried line. “That’s not what worries me.”

“Maybe they will try to break in,” Val spoke slowly as her thoughts formed. “They’ll try to kill the prisoners. Some radicals might be crazy enough to try, and they’ll bite off more than they can chew.”

Enzo shook his head. “It’s not that, either. Do you girls remember when the Dark Moon League tried to take over Avalon?”

Tetra shrugged. “Nope. I was pretty isolated until the faerie king adopted me.”

“I remember seeing it on the news. They tried to storm the OPMA branch in Avalon Town. Caused damage and deaths,” Val murmured. “They were involved in the Battle of the Dryad Temple too, weren’t they?”

“They would have done far worse if Queen Julia hadn’t stopped them,” Enzo muttered. “My point is, this lot is acting like the Dark Moons did when they started, and they turned out to be deadly. The economy suffered, too. Paras in Avalon Town were so terrified that many had to close their businesses. Several never recovered.”

Val rubbed her elbow, thinking of the vibrant town she’d visited the day before, with its bustling traffic and rows of businesses. She imagined it closed and shuttered, with hardly any paras in the street, which made her gut clench. “Shit.”

“It’s the queen’s problem, right?” Tetra shrugged. “Our problem is serving beer.”

“Not entirely. Queen Julia believes that every para plays a role in making the world a better place. I agree with her.” Enzo squared his shoulders. “Val, remember that we were talking about the Iron Fist being a neutral place?”

Val nodded.

“I think that’s the best thing we can do to support peace right now. Paras get violent when they don’t feel heard. Sometimes, that’s because their opinions aren’t worth listening to, but they still need somewhere to speak freely.” Enzo shrugged. “The Iron Fist could be that place for paras in Williamsburg and other parts of Brooklyn.”

Val inclined her head. “I agree. Paras need somewhere safe to discuss this in public.”

“How can we make it more comfortable for them here?” Enzo asked.

Val bit her lip. “Well, they need to be safe from human ears. We could ward one of the booths to prevent humans from sitting there and add a subtle soundproofing spell.”

“Can’t you charm these beer glasses to serve themselves?” Tetra grumbled, grabbing her jug as someone at the bar raised their hand.

“I like that idea.” Enzo grinned. “What do you think about playing para news channels on the TV? The Veil would⁠—”

A low growl made the floor tremble. Shadow got to his feet in a smooth but tense movement. Silence fell in the bar as his growl grew louder. His hackles rose.

“Shadow?” Val touched the dagger hidden under her shirt. “What’s up, buddy?”

Shadow snarled. He kept his body low as he paced from behind the bar and headed for the door. The crowd parted as he approached them, and Val followed the massive dog.

“What’s with him?” Tetra asked.

“Shhh!” Val raised a hand. “He senses something.”

Buck and Henry hesitated at the door. Shadow reached it and stood with his twitching black nose almost touching the wood, his growl rising in volume.

“Open the door,” Val snapped.

The guys pulled the door open, and the first person in line scuttled back as Shadow paced outside.

“What is it, dude?” Val whispered, scanning the sidewalk for elven shadows.

Shadow stopped a few yards from the Iron Fist’s front door. Street lamps illuminated the warm summer night, casting their electric glow on the grubby sidewalk and the unoccupied benches of the Continental Army Plaza. The statue at the center was a graffiti-covered depiction of a human guy on a distressed horse. Homeless folks sometimes slept beneath it, but the plaza was empty tonight. Only a few cars hummed by. The other businesses were closed and shuttered. The line to get into the Iron Fist was the only sign of life tonight in this corner of Williamsburg.

The big dog didn’t stop growling. Val scanned the line of curious humans and paras. Several grabbed their phones and took pictures of Shadow, the legendary Guardian of the Iron Fist.

Val rested a hand on his tense back. “Show me, big guy.”

Shadow raised his nose. Val squinted into the crowd where he was looking—and spotted him. The only person in the line who wasn’t looking at Shadow. It was a teenage human, a gawky white boy with a spotty face and a hoodie too baggy for summer, and he focused on the woman in front of him. Judging by her open-mouthed giggles, she’d already had a few, and her purse dangled from her elbow.

Shadow barked.

Val straightened. “Hey! You!”

The boy jumped like she’d shot him. He lunged, box cutter in one hand, and slashed the blade through the purse’s straps.

“Get your ass back here!” Val thundered.

Shadow sprinted through the crowd, Val hot on his heels, as the purse-snatcher bolted down the sidewalk.

The victim screamed. “He stole my stuff! My phone!”

“Take him down, Shadow!” Val ordered.

Shadow’s nails clicked on the sidewalk as he bounded after the fleeing kid. Distance opened between Val and her dog, and her heart jumped in her throat as the box cutter flashed in the kid’s hand.

“Drop the knife!” she roared. “Drop the knife, or I’ll tell him to rip your throat out!”

Shadow’s jaws snapped closed inches from the boy’s heels. He screamed and ditched the knife in the gutter.

“Shadow, down!” Val ordered.

Shadow instantly dropped to his chest, head on his paws. Val sidestepped him.

“Stop, kid!” Val bellowed.

The kid redoubled his pace, but Val fly-tackled him. Her arms closed around his skinny waist, and they went down together, his body taking the brunt of their fall. The air left his lungs with a painful grunt. The victim’s purse flew out of his hands, scattering her phone, tampons, jewelry, and wallet all over the sidewalk.

Val got to her knees, breathless. “Idiot.” She panted. “What were you thinking?” As she pulled his arms behind his back, the blue and yellow track marks on his arms answered her question.

The boy whimpered.

Val looked around for a zip tie or rope. The humans couldn’t see much from this angle, so she focused on her belt buckle. The steel softened, untied itself from its buckle form, and slid onto her right forearm. It formed into a thin chain and wrapped around the boy’s wrists.

“Are you hurt?” Val demanded brusquely. She grabbed the chain and hoisted him to his feet.

A red graze decorated the kid’s chin, but he had the good sense to mumble, “No.”

“Good. Hey, lady,” Val yelled at the wailing victim in the crowd. “Here’s your stuff.”

Dozens of phones focused on her as people took pictures. Val positioned her captive in front of her to hide that she was missing her belt buckle. She kept a firm grip on his wrist in one hand, ignoring the victim as the woman scurried over to grab her things. Val pulled her phone out with the other.

A quick few taps, and she raised the phone to her ear.

“Officer Sidney Harris,” a man responded.

“What’s up, Sidney? It’s me. Val Stonehold.”

The cop laughed. “Hi, Val. Long time. How can I help?”

“Caught a purse-snatcher outside the Iron Fist. A kid who needs help.” Val paused. “I figured I’d call and see if you’re on duty. I know you’re the type to get the kid help instead of punishment.”

“I’ll be there in ten,” Sidney promised.

Val hung up as Enzo strolled out of the Iron Fist. He calmed the crowd and beckoned several people inside as other patrons left. Val strode toward him, dragging the kid, and realized Shadow was still lying on the sidewalk where she’d left him. The big dog’s head rested on his paws, his tail wriggled, and his eyes fixed on her.

“Shadow, come,” Val murmured.

Shadow jumped up and trotted by her side, tail waving. He tilted his head this way and that as they passed the adoring line of patrons, as if he knew many were taking his picture.

“You’ve put in work with him, Val,” Enzo observed.

Val paused beside the orc. “That’s the thing,” she murmured. “I haven’t.”

Enzo raised his eyebrows. “How’d he know what to do?”

Shadow sat down and scratched behind his ear with a hind foot, making his collar jingle.

Val sighed. “That’s what I’d like to find out.”

The address for the vet clinic Lori had told Val about was in Little Fernwood, a part of Avalon Town she hadn’t been to before. She tried to suppress the nervous flutters in her stomach, which had nothing to do with turning off the highway onto a narrow asphalt road that headed east.

“You okay, buddy?” Val asked needlessly.

Shadow lay on his side in the back seat, snoring, his big paws twitching in his sleep. He was always down for a car ride, even to the clinic in Bed-Stuy where Val’s friend Jess worked. This felt different.

“What if you’re not a dog?” Val murmured. “What if I have to give you up?”

Shadow exhaled through his lips, making idling engine noises.

“Glad to see you’re as worried about this as I am,” Val muttered.

She returned her attention to the narrow street as Genevieve purred toward a humpbacked bridge over a quiet river. A massive modern community center towered beside the bridge, and laughter and music pumped from within. It was a Friday afternoon in Avalon, and whatever was going on in there sounded like a good time.

Genevieve crested the bridge, giving Val her first glimpse of Little Fernwood. She could see where it had gotten its name. Although the houses were all similar dwarf-made dwellings that looked like they’d been quickly thrown together, the suburb seemed more like a transplanted jungle than part of the capital city. No lawns or flower gardens grew here. Diverse vegetation engulfed every inch of open space. Trees spread their broad canopies over the rooftops. Creepers, ferns, and briars grew in thick profusion between homes, their branches tangling.

“Wow,” Val whispered.

Shadow woke and raised his head but didn’t bark. He stared serenely through the window as Genevieve reached the other side of the bridge. Glorious wisteria lined Little Fernwood’s main street, purple blossoms dangling, spent bracts littering the asphalt. A squirrel sat on a nearby branch, cleaning his whiskers. The branch twitched, and the tree opened its eyes, which were set deep in the trunk.

“Shit!” Val yanked the wheel, almost throwing Genevieve on her side. The Mustang ground her gears in protest.

“Sorry. Sorry.” Val exhaled and waved at the staring tree. “I’ve never met a dryad before. That’s all.”

Her navigation app guided her around a traffic circle onto a broader street where creepers climbed the streetlamps. A block away, she spotted the sign: Little Fernwood Animal Clinic above the vet’s name, Dr. Niall Wynthorn.

“Here we are, buddy.” Val turned into a parking space between walls that dripped ivy and jasmine. They flanked a large wooden barn with farmhouse vibes. The walls were deep olive, and white trim surrounded the doors and windows. The sliding doors were open, revealing a broad aisle tiled in white.

“Fancy,” Val whispered.

She clipped Shadow’s leash on, and he hopped out of Genevieve, tail wagging, ready for his next adventure. Val rumpled his ears as they strode to the clinic’s door.

“Whatever happens, you’re my bro, okay?” she murmured. “I’ll always love you. I know it’s cheesy.”

Shadow licked her hand.

Val entered the clinic and hesitated. The doors to her left and right read Lab, OR, Waiting Room, Exam Room, and Radiology, but the stalls beyond instantly caught her attention. An elephant hung his trunk over one stall, his gold tusks scraping the wood. Beside him, a pegasus dozed with an IV in her neck and her left wing in a sling.

Val peered into the waiting room and found it empty. “Hello?”

Someone cursed loudly deeper within the clinic.

“I guess they’re over there, Shad.” Val tugged his lead and led the dog down the aisle.

“One more moment!” someone encouraged in deep, musical tones. “Hold her steady!”

Val looked over the stable door. An enormous bright blue cow stood on the straw, tossing her head and trying to crush the stocky Starlight Fae girl who clung to her halter. Behind her stood the vet, Val presumed from his sleeveless green overalls and the fact that his left arm was buried in the blue cow’s asshole to the shoulder. He squinted at a portable ultrasound screen a trembling, wide-eyed vampire held aloft.

“Almost there,” the vet announced and somehow inserted his arm a few inches deeper.

Shadow whined.

“Don’t blame you, buddy,” Val muttered.

“There!” The vet hit a button on the machine with his free hand. “Look at that.” He withdrew his arm, revealing the longest glove Val had ever seen or ever wished to see. “You’re in luck, Amy. She’s about fourteen days.”

The Starlight Fae grinned from ear to ear like she’d received the best news of her life. “Did you hear that?” She petted the cow, who continued trying to squash her to a pulp. “You’re going to be a mama!”

“Um, hello?” Val ventured.

The vet turned around, and Val felt a sharp pang in her chest. His eyes were the deepest, most limpid brown she’d ever seen. He moved with elastic grace as he approached her.

“Oh, sorry. You must be my four o’clock.” The vet removed the shoulder-length glove with a squishing sound and offered her his hand. “Niall Wynthorn. You must be the famous Dame Eiravel Stonehold.”

Val looked from the vet’s hand to his incredible eyes and back. “It’s Val. It’s nice to meet you, but I’m not shaking that.”

Niall flushed and hastily dropped his hand to his side. “Sorry. Bedwyr, would you help Amy load her cow?”

The wide-eyed vampire with the ultrasound machine nodded and scuttled off.

“My receptionist is out sick,” Niall told her apologetically. He stepped out of the stall, and his eyes widened. “Merlin’s magnificent curly beard, who is this beauty?”

Shadow barked and reared to place his front paws on the vet’s shoulders. His tongue swiped Niall’s face with enthusiasm.

“Shadow!” Val tugged the leash, but she might as well have tried to pull a mountain over.

“Hello, boy! Hi. Hi there!” Niall rumpled Shadow’s ears, laughing. “What a lovely big boy!”

Shadow’s entire body wiggled from the force of his tail wagging. Having thoroughly bathed the stranger’s face in drool, he dropped to the floor.

“He’s not normally this friendly,” Val admitted.

Niall mopped his face with his arm. “He’s majestic! Aren’t you, big fella?” He patted Shadow’s back. “What breed is he?”

Val grimaced. “Dude, I’m here because I’m not sure of his species, let alone his breed.”

Niall straightened, eyebrows rising. “Oh, it’s one of those, is it? Come on to the exam room, and we’ll have a look.”

He strode down the aisle, and Val followed him, keeping her eyes away from his tight ass with difficulty.

“What do you mean, ‘one of those?’”

“Having a Lunar Fae in her prime on the throne for the first time since King Arthur has changed the magical landscape,” Niall explained as they entered the exam room, which looked like vet exam rooms everywhere. “Queen Julia’s presence affects everything about Avalon, every grain of sand and every atom. It’s brought lost magic out of hiding. Magical creatures long considered extinct have reappeared. One lady thought her house cat was sick. Turns out it was undergoing metamorphosis.”

“Metamorphosis? What did it turn into?”

“A butterfly, obviously. Do you need a hand with—” Niall began.

Val crouched, wrapped her arms around Shadow, and lifted him onto the table with a grunt of effort.

“Sorry I asked.” Niall laughed. “What’s his name?”

“Shadow,” Val mumbled. “Because he follows me everywhere.”

“I like it.” Niall washed his hands and rummaged in a drawer for a stethoscope and a thermometer. Val cradled Shadow’s head as the vet ran through a simple physical examination. It was the same as Jess usually did, except that at the end, Niall held up something that looked like a lightsaber.

“What’s that?” Val hugged Shadow tightly.

“Don’t worry. It’s a thaumometer. It measures the magic energy surrounding him.” Niall pressed a button, and a disappointing little glowing blue nub protruded from the cylinder. He waved it around Shadow and frowned when the nub turned bright red and pulsed.

“Does that mean he’s magical?” Val asked.

“I’m not sure,” Niall admitted. “I’ve never seen this reading on an animal before. Are you wearing any magical objects?”

Val touched her chest. “A powerful Iron Dwarven amulet.”

“It could be reacting to that,” Niall told her.

“I could step outside, I guess.” Val’s hand tightened on the leash.

“I don’t think it’d make a difference. He’ll have residual magic on him from being near the amulet, and besides, the thaumometer only measures the magic he emanates. It might not measure innate magic, depending on its strength.” Niall rubbed Shadow’s head. “There’s a far more accurate way to measure his innate magic.”

Val swallowed. “How?”

“The same way Dr. Olena Dovhan discovered that our queen wasn’t human.” Niall smiled. “With a blood test.”

“Oh.” Val relaxed. “That doesn’t sound so bad. He’s good with needles.”

Niall fetched a syringe and a tube from a drawer, then grabbed a pair of clippers and briskly shaved a tiny area on Shadow’s front leg. Shadow licked the vet’s ears as Dr. Wynthorn gripped the limb and positioned the needle.

“Thanks to the Veil, human-made blood tests can’t pick up paranormal abnormalities.” Niall slipped the needle into the vein. Shadow barely stirred. “But thanks to advances in paranormal science, we can do more than sequence DNA. We can read magic signatures in the blood. It’ll give us a definitive answer about his species.”

Val gulped. “Does that mean you do think he’s more than a dog?”

Niall gently withdrew the needle and disposed of it. “It’s hard to say. You mentioned strange behaviors, but our pets can surprise us.” He smiled. “All I can tell from his physical examination is that he seems to be a dog.”

Val bit her lip. “Queen Julia seemed human, too.” She paused. “She was under a lunar concealment spell. Could Shadow be under a concealment spell?”

Niall stroked the dog’s back. “If he is, it’s stronger than anything I’ve seen on an animal before, but it’s not impossible.”

A lump formed in Val’s throat. She draped an arm around Shadow and pulled him closer.

“What if he’s lost, Niall?” she croaked. “What if he’s somehow trapped in this body? I don’t know how to help him.”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Niall touched her shoulder with his fingertips, and for once, Val didn’t flinch. “You’re doing the best you can with the information you have. Besides, look at him.” He scratched Shadow’s ears and smiled when the dog’s hind leg twitched. “He’s clearly happy and healthy, and he adores you. He trusts you. You love her, don’t you, boy?”

Shadow yipped.

“You’re only saying that to make me feel better.” Val discreetly brushed a tear away.

“Actually, I’m translating.” Niall laughed.

Val’s eyebrows shot up. “You can talk to animals?”

“Well, he’s a predator. I’m not fluent, but I get the gist.” Niall chuckled.

Val stared at him.

“Oh, sorry. I wasn’t clear about my species.” Niall shrugged. “I’m a weredeer.” His face twisted in concentration, and magnificent twelve-point antlers grew from his short, sandy hair, almost impaling the light fixture overhead.

Val blinked. “Okay. That explains that.” She managed to laugh.

“Don’t worry about Shadow. He’s fine,” Niall assured her. His antlers disappeared as he flipped the test tube from side to side. “I’ll send this to Dr. Dovhan at the NYHQ, and we’ll get answers in a couple of weeks.”

“Thanks.” Val wrapped her arms around Shadow and hoisted him to the floor. “Thanks for your time, Doc.”

“It’s Niall. Really.” The weredeer smiled. “I’ll be in touch.”

Val ignored the hitch in her chest. “Sure. Thanks.”

CHAPTER SEVEN

First Street traffic in Avalon Town was one thing. Sitting in the Hugh L. Carey Tunnel on the way back to Brooklyn was another. Val slammed her palm into the steering wheel as a hatchback cut in front of her.

Genevieve let out a long, blaring honk.

“Tell them, Gennie!” Val growled.

Genevieve’s indicator lever smacked her on the knuckles.

“Ow! Sorry.” Val sighed. “I shouldn’t have hit your wheel. I’m worried about Shadow, that’s all.”

Genevieve switched on her ceiling light and shone it on the back seat. Shadow lay on his back, paws in the air, snoring.

“You have a point. I should quit worrying about him,” Val admitted. Her phone hummed. She hit a button on her hands-free system as Liam’s name appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Lee.” Val stifled a yawn. “What’s up? New contact for a security contract?”

“Not yet. You sound tired. You okay?” Liam asked.

Val smiled. “I’m fine. Stuck in traffic, that’s all. On my way home after a vet appointment.”

“Aw, man! Is Shadow okay?” Liam demanded.

Val grimaced. “He’s good. It was a routine thing.” The lie twisted her guts.

“Oh, okay.” Liam paused. “Listen, Val, I’m calling to ask a favor. I kind of need help with a mission of my own.”

“A mission?” Val straightened. “Are you okay? Is someone threatening you?”

“What? No!” Liam laughed. “Loosen up, Val. You’re wound tight. Are you sure Shadow’s fine?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sorry.” Val groaned. “Okay, tell me about the mission.”

“Well.” Liam cleared his throat. “There’s a tech exhibition coming up this weekend, really cool shit, and I wanted to ask...well, I wanted to ask Kenzie to come with me.”

“Oh!” Val grinned. “Like, a date?”

“No! Yes? Maybe. I guess. I don’t know.” Liam groaned. “I like her, Val. I really, really like her.”

“No shit. I would never have guessed from how you look at her,” Val told him drily.

“Look, I don’t want to mess this up. I don’t want her to feel uncomfortable. I thought maybe I could ask her to come, and you could come, too, as...as...” Liam’s voice trailed off.

Val chuckled. “As a third wheel?”

“As a chaperone,” Liam admitted. “A buffer so she won’t feel weird.”

Val stifled a smile. She’d been driving Liam to his therapy appointments for months after he’d spiraled into depression over his sister’s death. Occasionally, he shared details of his sessions with her on the drive home, and lately, his therapist had been trying to persuade him to work up the courage to start dating again. She doubted Qenzi, their mutual troll friend, was the one who would feel weird.

“I’d love to come,” Val assured him.

“Are you sure?” Liam asked. “I don’t want to impose.”

“Relax.” Val laughed. “I want to help. Qenzi and I recently worked on blending her thaum…I mean, her technology with my jewelry-making. I’d love to learn more about it.”

“Great. Awesome!” Liam exhaled. “Okay. I’ll get the tickets and send you the details.” He swallowed. “Assuming she says yes.”

“She’ll say yes. Positive thinking, remember?” Val told him.

“Positive thinking,” Liam affirmed.

Shadow’s snores filled Val’s room. The quiet, spartan space was comfortably messy. Her clothes lay on the floor where she’d dumped them as she headed for the shower after the long drive home. Shadow’s toys littered the carpet, and her laptop balanced on the nightstand, open to a webpage showing the UFC’s rules.

Val reached over to adjust the lamp. Shadow groaned.

“Sorry for disturbing you, Your Highness,” Val teased.

The massive dog sprawled on the double bed beside her, head on the pillows, covers pulled up to his chin.

“Dogs don’t belong in beds,” Val grumbled.

Shadow sighed contentedly.

Val rolled her eyes and returned her attention to the heavy book she’d checked out of Avalon’s library. The Runic Dwarvish made for slow going, but she’d plowed through the first two chapters. Neither offered much more than she knew: A HISTORY OF RUNES and PRACTICAL APPLICATION OF DWARVEN RUNES.

She turned the page and saw the third chapter. NON-RUNIC METHODS TO INCREASE RUNE STRENGTH.

“Think they wanted to make sure people knew the book is about runes?” Val muttered. “I know this shit, Shadow. Phases of the moon, seasons, materials, all that jazz. Many ways to boost rune strength.”

Shadow snored.

Val paged through the chapter, skimming the headings matching the factors she’d listed aloud. She was about to give up when her eye caught a heading near the end of the chapter.

Dwarven Bonds and Rune Strength

“Dwarven bonds,” Val murmured, checking the title. “That’s more like it.”

She tilted the book to the light and leaned closer. The words headed a single short paragraph.

Certain runic combinations depend upon the forger’s strength, and many are too powerful for even the mightiest dwarven smiths to forge alone. Since dwarves lack the intraspecies bonds shared by beings such as Lunar Fae and social Weres, we must turn to different species. For the most difficult runic combinations, should they refuse to set when an ordinary dwarven bond supports them, they should consult a Warrior of the Red Bear. Their connections with their creature companions give them power unlike any other dwarven smith or soldier.

Val turned the page, eager to learn more, but that was the end of the chapter. The following discussed tools used for inscribing runes.

She returned to the paragraph and ran her fingers over the runes. “Warrior of the Red Bear,” she whispered. “Gagana called me that. Cleo mentioned the red bear, too.”

Val ran a hand over Shadow’s ear. He slept on, oblivious, as she gazed at the rich color of his coat. It had been dull red when she’d run him over and rescued him the same night. Now, it gleamed like copper.

“Red bear. Red dog,” she whispered. “Maybe you are a creature companion.”

She raised the book but hesitated. Dad might know. Her reluctance to call him made shame spread through her, and she realized she hadn’t spoken to him in several days. Not since he’d announced his engagement to Bodil.

“Sorry, Dad,” she whispered. She set the book aside and grabbed her phone. Moments later, Frode’s grinning face filled the screen as he answered her video call.

“There’s my little spark!” he boomed. “Look at you! Gorgeous as ever, darling.”

Val smiled. Only her dad would say that when she was wearing a baggy shirt and no wig. “Hey, Dad.” She hesitated, hand rising to her smooth scalp. “Is Bodil around?”

“She’s in the smithy, darling. Did you want to talk to her?” Frode asked.

“No,” Val blurted more sharply than she’d meant.

Frode blinked.

“Not right now, Daddy,” Val added.

The term of endearment melted him, as usual, and his smile returned. “How are you?”

“I’m good.” Val smiled. “How about you?”

“Oh, darling, better than ever.” Frode’s rich laugh made his words easy to believe. “We’re up to our eyeballs in wedding planning. Bodil says she’ll go dress shopping in the city, and apparently, I’m not allowed to see it. I’ve been measured for my tux, Bodil’s finished the guest list, and I’ll pop over to your great-grandpa’s grave tomorrow to dig up his sword.”

Val blinked. “Already?”

“Yes, darling. We’re busy picking dates. I’ll text them to you, and you can let me know what works for you, okay?” Frode grinned. “I can’t wait to see you there. It’s going to be beautiful.”

Val’s smile came more easily. It was impossible not to feel warmth spreading through her at the joy in Frode’s eyes. “It sure is.” She paused. “I have to ask you something, Dad.”

Frode’s smile slipped. “Sure, darling.”

“It’s about Iron Dwarven history,” Val quickly added.

“Oh!” Frode’s grin returned. “You might be better off talking to your Aunt Milda, but I’ll give it a shot.”

“Do you know anything about dwarven bonds?” Val asked.

Frode frowned. “Dwarven bonds? I can’t say I’ve heard the term.”

“I’m reading about it in a Runic Dwarvish book,” Val explained. “It’s got something to do with creature companions that boost certain dwarves’ power. It also mentions Warriors of the Red Bear. Do you know what that is?”

Frode stroked his beard. “The red bear? It rings a bell, but I can’t say I know anything. Milda would know.”

“What about creatures?” Val asked.

Frode chuckled. “That I can answer. I’ve never heard of creature companions for Iron Dwarves.” He turned the camera so Val could see through the kitchen window. “Except the usual. Isn’t that right, Petunia?” Frode crooned.

His winged potbelly pig rooted around the grass outside. The pig raised her head and oinked.

“Who’s my Pretty Petuney?” Frode baby-talked.

“Okay, Dad, point taken.” Val laughed. “Thank you. I’ll let you know if I find out more.”

“Talk to Milda. You’ll see her at the handfasting!” Frode grinned from ear to ear.

The handfasting. Val’s gut clenched, but she refused to let her trepidation show on her face. She’d never seen him this happy. “I sure will,” she told him, putting enthusiasm in her tone. “I can’t wait.”

“I’m so happy you feel that way, darling.” Frode chuckled.

“Frodey!” Bodil called from the smithy. “Customers!”

“I’m talking to Val, dear!” Frode shouted. “I’ll be there in a minute.”

“It’s okay, Dad. I should turn in.” Val smiled. “Love you.”

Frode’s eyes softened. “Love you too, little spark.”

Val hung up, plugged her phone in, and rolled over to wrap her arms around Shadow. She buried her face in his thick fur and tried not to think about the wedding. It was a long time before the big animal’s rhythmic breathing lulled her to sleep.

Val had seen the Jacob Javits Convention Center from a distance, but her jaw dropped as she and Liam strolled toward the building from the parking garage where they’d left Genevieve. She’d never seen a building so large constructed of glass. At this time in the evening, the city’s lights sparkled on the building’s façade. Rows of flags—Val spotted the green-and-gray of the troll kingdom hanging beside the Stars and Stripes—hung on tall flagpoles before the center. Their colors faintly reflected in the glass as the sunlight faded.

“Wow,” Val murmured, admiring the dozens of tech company signs at the entrance. “This place is incredible!”

“Do you think she’s here yet?” Liam asked.

“She said she’d meet us by the flags at seven-thirty.” Val checked her phone. “We’re a few minutes early.”

“She might still show. Okay.” Liam swung his arms.

“Dude, chill.” Val smiled. “She’ll be here. I know she will. She’s got no reason not to show up, remember?”

“Yeah. Maybe. I guess.” Liam cleared his throat. “She doesn’t know how…how I feel.”

Val thought one would have to be legally blind not to see how Liam felt but decided not to voice her opinion.

“Look.” Val pointed. “Here she comes.”

Liam froze. Qenzi strode across the plaza toward them, chestnut hair bobbing on her shoulders. Val mainly had seen her in sweaters, pencil skirts, and OPMA-issue IT lab coats. Tonight, the troll wore a royal blue summer dress that perfectly offset the green hue of her skin. Its halter neck exposed her smooth shoulders, and the flared skirt stopped just below her knees. She wore an emerald pendant and matching earrings Val had given her, and tiny jewels glinted on the corners of her thick glasses. She’d tipped her delicate tusks with blue nail polish.

Val waved. “Hey, Qenzi.”

Qenzi glanced at her. “Hey, Val.” Her attention turned to Liam, and her tone softened. “Hi, Liam.”

Liam unfroze. “Kenzie! Hello. Hi, Kenzie. Hi. Hey.” His cheeks turned scarlet. “You, uh, you look nice.”

“Yeah, love the dress,” Val chipped in, trying to salvage the moment.

Qenzi blushed. “Thanks.”

“Let’s go inside!” Val announced before Liam could do anything stupid. She laid a hand on each of their shoulders and propelled them into the convention center.

She gasped as they walked inside. The walls and ceiling were transparent, and the skyscrapers of Hell’s Kitchen towered around them. Dozens of stalls filled the hall, with lights, sounds, and captivating displays simultaneously trying to catch Val’s attention. A crowd, primarily humans but also numerous trolls, moved between the stalls.

“Whoa.” Qenzi gaped. “Look at all this stuff!”

“Hey, is that a drone?” Liam pointed.

They hurried to the nearest stall, Val wandering in their wake, and spent ten minutes interrogating the bespectacled human about the drone’s thermal capabilities. Val didn’t understand half of what anyone said, but she watched the videos on the big screen behind the stall, showing the drone as it tracked criminals and lost children through dense woods without difficulty. She made a mental note to ask Qenzi if the OPMA had similar tech that could help with their missions.

“Check this out!” Liam touched Qenzi’s arm, pointing at another stall.

Val followed them from one stall to another until her feet ached. They admired a variety of goods that made Val’s head spin: mine safety equipment, communications, dozens of marketing and financial websites and systems, tech expert recruitment firms, and hundreds and hundreds of stalls showcasing every conceivable type of gadget.

Qenzi and Liam almost forgot that Val existed, to her delight. They never quit talking. Val lingered at the stalls that interested her. A smartwatch stall made her wonder if she could incorporate pedometers, reminders, and timepieces into her bracelets. Another stall sold mini flashlights and made her consider adding battery-powered lights to her necklaces.

Maybe a whole line of survival-oriented jewelry, she mused, inspecting a wearable GPS tracker tag for children.

“The possibilities are endless,” Qenzi gushed as she and Liam strode past Val. “Think about it. If one could upgrade the OS with...” A flow of computer jargon followed, going straight over Val’s head.

She politely smiled at the GPS tag stallholder and jogged after Liam and Qenzi on sore feet. “Where to next?”

They both jumped.

“Oh! Val,” Liam blurted. Qenzi flushed.

Val didn’t comment that they’d forgotten she was there. “Another hall?” she asked as they approached an elevator.

Liam checked his exhibition map. “That’s it, actually. We’ve seen it all.”

“Oh.” Qenzi’s shoulders sagged.

Liam gazed at the troll as she scanned the map. His chin rose, and though his hands trembled, he kept his voice steady. “Are you guys hungry? Maybe we should grab dinner.”

Val gave him a thumbs-up over Qenzi’s head.

Qenzi perked up. “I could eat.”

“How about you, Val?” Liam pointedly asked.

Val smiled. “Actually, I’m good. I have a commission to start tomorrow, so I’d better get to bed. You two should go ahead. Would you be okay taking the subway home, Lee?”

Liam gulped. “Well, yeah, but⁠—”

“Great!” Val slapped him on the back, almost knocking him on his face. “That’s settled. Text me when you get home.”

“Sure, Val.” Qenzi folded the map, glanced at Liam, and blushed. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Val hopped into the glass elevator.

“Val—” Liam began.

“Bye!” Val hit the button.

The doors shut, and as Qenzi fished in her purse for her phone, Liam gave Val a look of undiluted terror. She held up both thumbs as the elevator descended, leaving him alone with the troll of his dreams.

Liam had pegged Qenzi as an uptown girl, maybe New Dorp or St. George, but when he asked where she lived, she smilingly told him Coney Island.

“Don’t you work on Staten Island?” he asked as they joined the crowd of tech fans heading from the convention center to the parking garage.

“Yeah, but I have flexible hours. It’s not a long commute if I miss the traffic.” Qenzi smiled and hooked a sheaf of chestnut hair behind her ear. The expression created charming dimples in her olive-toned skin. “I grew up in Brooklyn, and I’ve always loved it. It has a sparkle I haven’t found anywhere else in the city.”

“I know what you mean. I’ve never left, either.” Liam chuckled. “Unless you count an ill-spent semester in Italy as an exchange student.”

“Italy?” Qenzi’s blue eyes widened. “Wow. I’d love to see that.”

“Have you traveled much?” Liam asked.

Qenzi hesitated a beat. “Uh, sort of.” She changed the subject. “Where would you like to get dinner? There are a few great places in Hudson Yards.”

“Actually, I was thinking of a nice place in Brooklyn.” Liam hesitated. “La Rose Dansante.”

“The Dancing Rose?” Qenzi’s eyebrows shot up. “It’s pricey, isn’t it?”

“My treat,” Liam assured her. “Val pays better than I could imagine.”

A warm flush crept over Qenzi’s cheeks. Her skin tone was unique, Liam thought, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. “It is closer to home,” she demurred.

“Only if that sounds good to you.” Liam smiled. “I’d be equally happy grabbing MacDonald’s.”

“No one eats in my car.” Qenzi wagged a finger at him. “Well, if a nice guy offers to buy me lobster thermidor, I won’t say no.”

Heat and nervousness crackled through Liam’s body. “Great!” he yelled. To his relief, Qenzi giggled.

She drove her little red hatchback with city-girl ruthlessness, but after many trips with Val in Genevieve, nothing fazed Liam. The terror he’d felt when Val abandoned him subsided as they drove, and their conversation flowed as they rehashed every cool gadget and mind-blowing concept they’d seen at the exhibition.

All too soon, they stopped in front of the Dancing Rose, a classy waterfront restaurant in a historical brownstone with red silk drapes and a maître d’ in an impeccable suit at the front door.

“Don’t we need a reservation for this place?” Qenzi asked as she parallel parked the hatchback.

“I, um, I made a reservation when I booked tickets for the exhibition.” Liam cleared his throat. “I thought we’d want a nice dinner. You know. All three of us.” Don’t think I’m creepy, he silently pleaded.

Qenzi missed a beat but smiled. “Okay.”

He toyed with the idea of opening the door for her and felt stupid, so he got out and stood there like an idiot as she locked her car and smoothed her breathtaking dress. Should he offer her an arm? Shit, no. Wasn’t that old-fashioned and weird? He didn’t want her to think he was sexist. Gentlemanly, though. Would she be into that?

Liam thought he might throw up, but Qenzi’s smile eased the flutter in his stomach. Somehow, he remembered how to walk, and they approached the restaurant.

“Reservation for Miller,” he managed.

“Right this way, sir.” The maître d’ extended an arm into the restaurant, and a waiter in a spotless apron led them to a table on the balcony as he’d requested. He supplied them with water, rolls, and menus, then vanished.

Qenzi buttered her roll with vigor. “Wow, I’m hungrier than I thought.”

“All that walking,” Liam croaked. He desperately searched for a topic to reignite the chatter they’d enjoyed on the drive. “So, what do you think of that new AI company?”

Qenzi brightened. “They have exciting ideas. I’m not sure about the practical application of their smart home software, though.” She smiled, displaying the slight underbite that gave her face a strong yet vulnerable quality Liam found charming.

“I hear you. I don’t think AI is developed enough to control stuff as dangerous as stoves and natural gas in the home setting.”

They both ordered the Dancing Rose’s famous lobster thermidor and demolished it quickly. Chocolate lava cakes followed for dessert. As the warm chocolate filled Liam’s mouth, he got a surge of courage. Maybe it was the wine, the flowing conversation, or the irresistible way Qenzi closed her eyes with each bite as though savoring it to the full.

“So, you grew up here?” Liam asked. “In Coney Island?”

“I did.” Qenzi grinned, revealing chocolate on her teeth.

“Same. Jess and I were in high school together. She’s a friend,” Liam added hastily.

Qenzi flushed. “I know.”

Idiot, Liam chided himself. Then he chided himself again for the negative self-talk.

“So, uh, you went to high school around here?” Liam asked. “I was at Abe Lincoln.”

“Um, not quite.” Qenzi cleared her throat and shoved a forkful of lava cake into her mouth.

“I see.” Liam grinned. “You were in private school.”

Despite his light tone, Qenzi dropped her gaze to her plate. “Not really. Uh, so about that smart home system. I was thinking of failsafes that could be added.”

Liam’s gut swooped. “Yeah, maybe even a mechanical failsafe in case of catastrophic software failure. Not that I’m an expert. I’ve never had a smart home system.” He tried a light laugh. “We didn’t grow up with tech. My mom can barely operate Facebook enough to share badly AI-generated art like real pictures.”

Qenzi’s lip quirked, to his relief. “Your mom still lives in Brooklyn?”

“Both parents, yeah. Things are kind of tense between us.” Liam thought of telling her about Sarah Jane but decided against it. “How about your parents?”

“They went back to—” Qenzi stopped. “They...don’t live in the city.”

Dismay dragged Liam’s shoulders down. He was used to Qenzi, Tetra, and Val hiding things from him. They were privy to governmental details he didn’t have or want the clearance for. But why did it feel like Qenzi’s personal life was a state secret, too?

He was silent as he finished his dessert, which tasted like sawdust. Why had he let Val talk him into this? Qenzi was the most incredible girl he’d ever met, and he’d blown it.

The silence hung over them as he paid the check and walked her out. They hesitated a few yards from the car.

“Subway station’s a block away.” Liam jerked his thumb in that direction.

“Sure you don’t need a lift home?” Qenzi asked.

He raised his head, surprised. “It’s out of your way.”

“Yes, well.” Qenzi’s smile fluttered. “I wouldn’t mind a few more minutes with you on the drive.”

Liam blinked.

“I had a great time tonight, Liam.” Qenzi’s voice was soft.

“You did?” Liam squeaked.

“Yeah.” Qenzi edged nearer. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime.”

Relief drenched him like he’d stepped into a hot shower. “We will, then,” he told her. “But right now, I’m taking the subway. I don’t want to pressure you.”

Qenzi tilted her head, allowing a wing of hair to fall over her shoulder. “You’re a gentleman, Liam Miller. I like that.”

Joy surged in his chest. “You’re the smartest person I know. I like that, too.”

Qenzi’s laugh carried like music on the warm night air. She raised a hand to wave goodbye, then slipped into her hatchback and drove away. Liam stood on the sidewalk for several minutes after her taillights had faded into the distance.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Val swung her hammer harder, repeatedly driving it into the yellow-hot iron slab on the anvil. It bowed to her will, brute force and magic elongating it. The iron bar was the rough shape of a blade.

Val raised the iron and inspected it through the shimmer of heat. Sweat dripped down the small of her back and pooled in her heavy gloves. The blade had to be reasonably short—three or four inches—to fit in the elaborate armband she’d designed.

“It’s crooked,” Tetra yelled.

Val glared at the faerie, who lounged by the workbench, eating potato chips and scrolling on her phone.

“Do you ever quit eating?” she demanded.

Tetra scoffed. “Are you commenting on my eating habits? Not very respectful of you.”

“You’re commenting on a half-forged blade!” Val waved it.

“It’s the truth.” Tetra shrugged. “Not straight.”

Val rolled her eyes, tempted to tell Tetra to shut up, but their magic bond would force the faerie to heed her order. “Could you pass me my number four hammer, please?”

“Sure.” Tetra grabbed it from the rail and tossed it at Val, who barely caught it. “Is that a special straightening hammer? Because you need it.”

Val flipped her off, no mean feat in the sturdy gloves, and shaped the blade further with more delicate taps.

“Val!” Tetra bellowed over the hammering.

Exasperated, Val lowered the tool. “What?”

“Your phone’s ringing.” Tetra waved it.

“Who is it?” Val huffed.

Tetra inspected the screen. “Unknown number. Avalonian.”

Val grunted. “Probably about my chariot’s extended warranty.”

“Ooh, telemarketers!” Tetra grinned savagely. “Can I answer?”

“Go ahead. Tell them to piss off.” Val returned to work.

“Hi, you’ve reached the museum of human body parts, authentically removed from living victims as they screamed for mercy!” Tetra chirped. “How can I help you?” She paused. “Wait, who are you?”

Val paused, staring.

Tetra lowered the phone and covered it with a hand. “It’s your stepmom-to-be.”

“Shit! What?” Val shoved the blade into the forge to maintain its heat and jogged to the workbench, pulling off her gloves.

“Tell her she’s too fat for a wedding dress,” Tetra hissed. “Maybe she won’t marry your dad then.”

Val snatched the phone. “Bodil?” she barked.

“Um, hello,” Bodil ventured.

“Is Dad okay?” Val gripped the workbench’s edge, her knees watery.

“Yes! Yes. Merlin’s beard, I’m sorry. I should have thought that calling you from my number would startle you.” Bodil groaned. “Sorry, Val.”

Val sagged onto a stool. “It’s cool. It’s, uh, unusual for you to call me. That’s all.”

“Yeah. I, uh. I know.” Bodil managed a laugh.

“Tell her,” Tetra mouthed.

Val shoved the faerie away. “Can I help you with something?”

“Maybe.” Bodil paused. “You know, the big day isn’t far away.”

Val’s toes curled. “Only a few weeks. Dad sent me the dates you were considering.”

“Yeah.” Bodil cleared her throat. “I’m shopping for a wedding dress, and I’ve heard that New York City has the greatest bridal boutiques in the world. Avalon’s not too shabby, but not everyone can afford an Iris Wingfinger dress, you know?”

“Uh-huh.” Val had no idea who Iris Wingfinger was.

“Anyway, I have something to ask you.” Bodil paused.

Val squeezed her eyes shut. Please don’t ask me to go look at wedding dresses with you. Please, please don’t.

“Val...” Bodil hesitated. “Would you be my maid of honor?”

Tetra gasped.

Val’s eyes popped open. “What? You have close girlfriends, don’t you?”

“I’m sorry to spring this on you.” Bodil stumbled over the words. “You’re going to be my closest female relative apart from my mom. I want to start us off on the right foot, you know? I want...” She stopped, then continued more quietly. “I want you to know that you’re important to me.”

Val’s throat tightened. She blinked rapidly.

“It’s okay if you’re uncomfortable with that,” Bodil murmured.

“Um, no,” Val croaked. “No, it’s cool. Sure. I’ll be your maid of honor.”

“Thank you so much.” Bodil exhaled. “Now, are you available this weekend? I thought I could come over on a day that suits you, and we could spend the day dress shopping!”

Val groaned inwardly, but she’d agreed to do the maid of honor thing, so she assumed dresses would be involved. “Okay. Sure.”

“Thanks, Val. I’m really looking forward to spending time with you.” Bodil paused. “Your dad will be so pleased to hear about this.”

Val smiled. “Yeah, I know.”

“Saturday?” Bodil asked.

Val bit her lip. “Sure. I’ll let you know if an urgent security job comes up or something.” She secretly hoped one would.

“Cool. I guess I’ll see you then.” Bodil paused. “Bye.”

“Bye,” Val muttered.

She hung up.

“Maid of honor?” Tetra shrieked.

“Did you listen to the whole thing?” Val demanded.

Tetra shrugged. “Your phone’s really loud.”

“I can’t believe I’m going to be the maid of honor at my dad’s handfasting,” Val moaned.

“It’s a good sign, right? Clearly, your new stepmom likes you,” Tetra pointed out.

“I don’t know.” Val hugged herself. “Maybe she’s trying to curry favor with my dad.”

“Is she like that?” Tetra asked.

Val sighed. Shadow rose from his basket and rested his head in her lap. She played with his ears, considering her words. “No, she’s not. I liked her as Dad’s girlfriend. I don’t know how to like her as my stepmom.” She grimaced.

“It’s cool that she asked you.” Tetra shrugged. “My real mom tried to eat me when I was young, and my adoptive mom is as dead as a doornail, so I can’t relate. I guess it’s nice that she wants to connect with you.”

Val stared at Shadow, swallowing the lump in her throat. “Maybe? I don’t know. My mom walked out on us.”

“Your mom’s a real bitch. I should track her down and melt her face,” Tetra suggested.

“Tetra!” Val exclaimed.

“If you don’t like her, you could always tell her she looks fat in every dress she tries on,” Tetra suggested.

“Stop it.” Val sighed.

“Maid of honor, huh? You’re going to have to wear a cute dress to the handfasting. A pink one,” Tetra teased.

“Pink is so not my color,” Val grumbled.

“You can’t wear a black tank top and jeans, girl,” Tetra chided. “I’m feral, and I know that.”

“The other day, you went grocery shopping in sweatpants and a sports coat,” Val pointed out.

Tetra snorted. “No rules apply to grocery shopping. I didn’t wear a bra last time either.”

Val laughed. “Tetra!”

“There she is.” Tetra mock-punched her arm, emitting a burst of strawberry-scented faerie dust. “That’s more like it.”

Val eyed the forge. “I’d better keep working on this commission.” She gently pushed Shadow’s head off her lap and rose.

“Make yourself something cute while you’re at it.” Tetra put her feet on the workbench and returned her attention to the phone.

Val fetched the iron and the hammer and continued working the half-formed blade. Tetra was right. It was crooked.

Tetra was right about more things than one, Val realized.

Shadow barked at the front door, tail wagging, while Val was wiping down the kitchen counter for the hundredth time that Saturday morning.

“Oh, shit.” Val peered into the dining room. “She’s here already?”

The dining room window overlooked the street. A yellow cab pulled up by her backyard gate. Shadow barked again and placed his forepaws on the back door.

“Quit scratching the door, idiot,” Val yelled.

She hit the coffee machine’s button and hurried to the door. Gripping Shadow’s collar in one hand, she opened the door with the other, struggling to hold the huge animal back.

Bodil stepped out of the taxi, moving awkwardly in human-presenting clothes. She usually wore tunics, wolfskins, and heavy boots. Now, she shuffled in sneakers, jeans, and a plaid shirt buttoned to the top. The floral tote bag she hoisted from the backseat still had tags on it. Val guessed she’d purchased it in Avalon Town.

“Thank you,” she called to the cab driver.

Shadow barked louder and reared.

“Dude, down!” Val snapped.

“Hi, Val!” Bodil’s smile was wider than natural. “It’s okay. You can let him go. I’m very excited to meet him!”

Val released Shadow. He bounded to Bodil, his head almost on the same level as hers, but didn’t knock the dwarf down. Instead, he dipped into a play bow before her, tail waving.

“Hi, boy. You’re adorable.” Bodil rubbed his head with the confidence of a three-foot woman who wrangled full-sized cattle and horses, not to mention dozens of stubborn dwarven men in her mine. “Wow, Val! Your house is beautiful.”

Val rubbed the back of her neck. “Thanks.”

Bodil wiped her feet on the welcome mat despite the absence of mud and gazed around the dining room as Val shut the door. Shadow bounded to the kitchen, grabbed a squeaky toy, and ran around the house, squeaking it.

“He’s excited,” Val apologized.

“I think he’s wonderful.” Bodil clutched the bag in front of her with both hands like a shield.

Val sighed. “Let’s go into the kitchen. I could make coffee.”

“Coffee would be nice.” Bodil nodded vigorously.

“Um, or breakfast?” Val offered. “Must’ve been an early morning for you.”

“Avalon time worked out. I left Avalon Town in the evening an hour ago.” Bodil smiled.

Val grimaced. “The dimension lag will catch up with you tomorrow.”

“It’s okay. It won’t be the first time,” Bodil told her.

Val led her into the kitchen, realizing she didn’t know if Bodil had ever been to the human world. What else didn’t she know about her soon-to-be stepmother? The thought made her gut clench.

She started the coffee machine and rummaged in the freezer for bagels, which went embarrassingly soggy in the microwave. Bodil diplomatically did not comment. She bravely plowed through a nasty-ass bagel while Val sat opposite her, hands wrapped around her coffee mug, wishing the floor would swallow her.

“Your bag is nice,” Val offered. “I like it.”

“Thanks. I grabbed it at a great little store in Avalon Town that sells human-presenting stuff for paras going through the New York City portal.” Bodil chugged coffee. “I love your kitchen. Did you design it yourself?”

“More or less.” Val shrugged. “I didn’t change much from the previous owner, except for scrubbing stickers off the wall.”

“That makes sense. Lillian Griswall was a legendary influence on the queen’s life. I’m sure you want to honor her memory.” Bodil smiled.

Val clutched her coffee cup tighter. “Uh, the previous owner was a single mom of three.”

“Oh.” Bodil blushed.

The silence felt like a cold, wet towel draped over Val’s head. “So...” She twiddled her thumbs. “Any ideas where you want to shop?”

“I hardly know where to start,” Bodil confessed. “I Googled bridal boutiques in the city, and there were so many that I don’t even know where to start. I mean, few have their dress prices on their websites. I don’t want to walk into something unaffordable.” She shrugged. “I ended up with a list of para-owned boutiques from the paranet, but they’re not to my taste, so I wanted to hit a human-owned place or two.”

“I can call a friend. She’ll know.” Val grabbed her phone. “Isabella’s college roomie recently got married, and they shopped in the city for her dress. Besides, she’s got amazing taste, and she’s human.”

“Okay.” Bodil nodded. “Sounds good.”

Val raised her phone to her ear, and the silence grew longer as Isabella’s phone rang. Bodil gazed around the kitchen, then sneaked a glance at her phone. Shadow lay in his basket, chewing a hapless plush duck.

Finally, Isabella answered. “Hey, Val! Sorry. I was busy with a client.”

“Is this a bad time?” Val asked.

“It’s never a bad time for you, girlfriend. Hold on a sec.” Isabella’s words grew muffled. “What? Tell him to wait five minutes. He’s been arrested for murder. That is not the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.”

“Uh, everything okay?” Val raised her eyebrows.

“Same shit, different day. Anyway, how can I help?” Isabella asked.

Val avoided Bodil’s gaze. “My dad’s fiancée is here.” She couldn’t bring herself to say “stepmom.” “She’s dress shopping in the city.”

“Whoa! Already? They didn’t waste time, did they?” Isabella chuckled.

Val grimaced and turned down her phone’s volume. “Yeah. We were wondering if you knew of a good boutique we could try. This is uncharted territory for both of us.”

“Girl, I think my roommate hit every boutique in the city before she settled on her dress. I’ll send a list of my favorites,” Isabella promised. “Tell her to try on more than one dress, too. Sometimes, wearing a wedding dress is so romantic that people go for the first one, but she needs to try a few. Oh, and don’t drink too much complimentary champagne, or all the dresses start to look the same. Is she wearing the shoes she plans to wear at the wedding?”

Val eyed Bodil. “I don’t think so.”

“Then find similar ones and try the dresses with them. Make sure she can sit and dance in it. It will be a long-ass day for her, and she might as well enjoy it.” Isabella continued her bombardment. “Also, consider the venue. Lots of white walls with a blue undertone will make a dress with a yellow undertone look like somebody peed on it. Go for ivory or the bluest white you can find. Okay? White is not the only color, either. Don’t be afraid to break tradition.”

“Okay,” Val managed.

“I think that covers it. Anyway, I’ll text you the list.” Isabella raised her voice. “Is she in the room?”

Val turned the volume down again. “Yes,” she hissed.

“Tell her not to put you in an ugly-ass bridesmaid dress!” Isabella bellowed the words. “Do you hear that, stepmom-to-be? That’s screwed up! Don’t do it!”

“Bella,” Val protested.

Bodil burst out laughing.

“I got your back, girlfriend. Love you! Bye.” Isabella hung up.

“I’m sorry,” Val moaned, lowering the phone.

Bodil shook her head. “Isabella sounds amazing.”

“She’s cool.” Val glanced at her phone. “Okay, she’s sent a list. A few places in Brooklyn, one in Queens, and two in Manhattan.”

“The para-owned places are mainly on Staten Island. Sounds like we have a long day ahead of us.” Bodil hesitated. “If you don’t mind. We don’t have to go to all of them.”

“If you want to try them all, we can do that.” Val rubbed her sweaty hands on her jeans. “I don’t mind.”

“Okay.” Bodil clutched her bag. “I’ll buy fuel. I know it’s expensive here.”

“Genevieve guzzles,” Val admitted. “Don’t tell her I said that.”

“Um, sure.” Bodil nodded.

Val had to stuff a dog toy full of peanut butter before leaving Shadow, whom she assumed wouldn’t be welcome in the average bridal boutique. Bodil hovered uncomfortably until Val tossed the toy to the big dog and grabbed Genevieve’s keys.

“Ready?” she asked unnecessarily.

“Yep!” Bodil grinned.

Genevieve wagged her windshield wiper as they entered the garage. Val slid into the driver’s seat, stuffed the keys into the ignition, and leaned closer to the dash.

“Gennie, help me out here,” she hissed.

Genevieve revved her engine in the affirmative.

Bodil got in and buckled her seat belt. “Where to first?”

“Uh, the para boutique in Brooklyn,” Val suggested.

Bodil tapped her phone, bringing up the navigation app. “Okay! Let’s go.”

Genevieve sedately puttered out of the garage. Val worried that the Mustang had hopelessly misunderstood the assignment until she turned down the main street, and her engine shrieked. Before Val could warn Bodil to hang on, Genevieve accelerated. Zero to sixty in six seconds, never mind that the speed limit here was thirty, pinned Val and Bodil to their seats.

The Mustang threw herself around a turn with screeching tires, her emergency brake pulled up high, and her flying rear end almost collided with oncoming traffic. Blaring horns surrounded them as Genevieve corrected and sped down the block.

Val didn’t dare look at Bodil until they’d turned onto a double-lane highway. She expected her future stepmom to look green around the gills like most people did during their first spin in Genevieve, but a massive grin stretched across the dwarf’s face.

She whooped in excitement as Genevieve accelerated. “Yeah!”

The knot in Val’s belly relaxed. “Go, girl!”

Genevieve skidded across two lanes of traffic to reach the exit, prompting flashing headlights and honking. She zipped down the street, slid sideways through the entrance to the parking lot of a strip mall, and drifted into a parking spot without touching her gleaming chrome fender to the rear end of the truck in front of her.

“You have arrived,” Bodil’s phone announced.

Bodil laughed. “No shit.”

Val joined her. “I guess Gennie knows you like speed.”

“Thanks, Gennie.” Bodil patted the dash.

Wobbly-kneed, the dwarves exited the Mustang and headed down the sidewalk to the bridal boutique.

“This one is fae-owned,” Bodil explained. “It came well-recommended. She apprenticed with Iris Wingfinger.”

Val still didn’t know who that was but nodded anyway.

The tiny boutique’s windows bore the words Fairytale Ending Bridal Boutique: Gowns for Every Occasion! Behind the lettering, dresses crowded the window. Those nearest the glass were ordinary silk and tulle, but beyond, Val spotted a few that hinted at more. One had live butterflies perching on its bodice, their wings beating from time to time. Another featured a veil edged with blue flames.

“Fancy,” she commented and held the door for Bodil, who clutched her bag tight as she gazed wide-eyed at the dresses. They filled most of the store, crammed so close that there was barely room to move between them. A narrow counter at the back held a cash register and a sign reading NO PAYMENT PLANS.

The Woodland Fae behind the counter had hedgehog prickles instead of hair and wore so many earrings that they jingled when she raised her head.

“Good morning!” she trilled. “Out dress shopping early, are we?”

“We have a lot of places to visit,” Bodil admitted.

“Then let’s get you started.” The fae stepped from behind the counter. “Look at you!” She gazed at Val. “You’ll be a real pleasure to dress.”

“Um, I’m not getting married,” Val blurted. She pointed at Bodil. “She is.”

The fae didn’t miss a beat. “Merlin’s beard, lucky me! Look at you. You’re going to be stunning.”

“She’s my maid of honor.” Bodil proudly smiled. “She’s going to be my stepdaughter.”

“That is great. Isn’t marriage amazing?” The fae got misty-eyed like she meant it. “I’ve been married to my Howard for three hundred fifty-two years next Sunday. It brings so many people together. I’m Charmaine.”

Val and Bodil introduced themselves.

“Amazing to meet you.” Charmaine ushered them to a carpeted dressing room at the back, where a six-foot mirror leaned against the wall. “What do you have in mind? Anything specific?”

“I’m clueless when it comes to fashion,” Bodil admitted. “Country bumpkin here.” She giggled.

Charmaine turned to Val, who raised her hands. “Don’t look at me.”

“The venue is a castle in the Iron Hills,” Bodil supplied. “Very traditional Iron Dwarven.”

“So, you’re thinking handfasting rather than wedding, right?” Charmaine guessed. “Holding the ceremony on a Friday, exchanging swords, intricate hairstyle?”

Bodil nodded. “I put it in two braids for today, but it’ll be more complicated on the day. Same vibe, though. I, uh, read that I should wear more or less the same hair.”

“Excellent thinking!” Charmaine beamed. “Okay, let me see what I have for you.”

She vanished into the back and reappeared a few moments later with a rail of dresses.

“I picked a few of my favorite bridesmaid designs, too.” The fae indicated several in pastel colors.

“Thanks,” Val mumbled.

“You’ll need help getting into some of these. Would you like me to stay, or will Valerie help you?” Charmaine asked.

Bodil hesitated.

This is for Dad, Val reminded herself. “I’ll help her.”

“Great! Let me know when you’re ready.” Charmaine left the room and pulled the curtain closed behind her.

Val had not expected to find herself in a dressing room with Bodil stripped down to her chainmail underwear in this lifetime, but there she was. She grabbed the first gown off the rail and helped Bodil into it, smoothing out thousands of petticoats and settling the sweetheart bodice in place. Bodil blushed furiously as she tugged at the neckline. “I’ve never shown so much skin in my life,” she hissed. “Okay, your turn.”

“What?” Val whispered.

“I’ll help you.” Bodil bunched half the gown in one hand. “Go on.”

Val groaned inwardly but allowed Bodil to help her squeeze into a pink dress with a similar neckline and a poofy ballgown skirt. The only magic in the dress appeared when it buttoned up her back on its own.

“Is it supposed to dig into my hips this much?” Val hissed.

Bodil threw her hands up. “Search me! What do you think?”

“I don’t know!” Val swallowed. “Wait, turn around.”

Bodil stomped in a circle. She bulged uncomfortably out of the top of the dress, and the skirt made her look six inches shorter.

“Nice,” Val croaked. “What about mine?” She waved the skirt.

“Very pretty,” Bodil managed.

Surprised, Val turned to the mirror. Beside her, Bodil did the same. Val’s arms looked like they belonged to a gorilla protruding from the pink puff sleeves. Bodil wore a strained expression to go with the princessy gown.

Val’s dress was so awful that she tried to hold back a giggle, but she was unsuccessful. A snort escaped her. Bodil cracked a smile and covered her mouth with one hand. Val turned away in an attempt to quit laughing, but the giggles bubbled up before she could stop them. Bodil’s struggle to muffle her mirth became a strangled squeak, and Val couldn’t help it. She burst out laughing.

The giggle fit enveloped them both. Bodil returned to the mirror and twirled like a princess, making her dress poof like a marshmallow. Val squealed with laughter and tripped over the hem of her gown, almost faceplanting into the glass. Bodil grabbed her arm to steady her as their laughter filled the space.

“Shhh!” Val managed between giggles. “Charmaine’s right outside!”

“Oh shit.” Bodil covered her mouth with her hand.

Trying to muffle the laughter made it worse.

“What are we going to tell her?” Bodil hissed.

“That her dresses are charming, and we’d love to wear them,” Val whispered. “Can you imagine Dad’s face if he sees us like this?”

Bodil snort-laughed and sat down with a bump, holding her belly. Val’s nervousness came out in a peal of giggles she couldn’t control.

“Merlin’s toenails.” Bodil wiped away tears of mirth. “These are not going to work.”

“I’m so relieved we agree on that.” Val sat beside her, groaning as the bodice dug into her boobs.

Bodil elbowed her. “Let’s try the next ones.”

Val grinned as her stepmom-to-be bounced to her feet. “They can’t be any worse.”

Bodil chortled. “Heaven help us if they are.”

Their giggles continued as they helped each other out of the appalling gowns, though they tried to stop.

The last boutique was in the heart of Manhattan. Val and Bodil had agreed to skip the one on the twenty-fifth floor of a high-rise, so they were running early as they strolled down the sidewalk, toting chocolate frappuccinos with extra sprinkles.

“Wow!” Bodil noisily slurped. “You weren’t kidding about that Starbucks.”

“It’s amazing, right?” Val chuckled. “Even though they called you ‘Bodie.’”

“To be fair, I don’t think they get a lot of Bodils,” Bodil pointed out.

They took a left and walked along the edge of Central Park, its towering trees sheltering them from the sun.

“This place is stunning. I’ve never been to Central Park, but it looks awesome,” Bodil murmured.

Val shrugged. “It’s pretty cool. Kicked a fae assassin’s ass in there once. Not without help.”

“Sounds like quite the adventure.” Bodil raised an eyebrow.

“My roommate sent the assassin to kill her sister, who was my client,” Val explained.

Bodil gaped.

“It’s a long story. We’re all cool with each other now, except the assassin. He’s, uh, kind of dead.” Val cleared her throat.

Bodil laughed. “I’m not surprised. He threatened your client. What did he expect?”

Val grinned. “Hey, you should bring Dad over for a weekend. I could show you all the sights. I don’t think Dad’s seen much of Avalon, let alone Earth.”

Bodil chuckled. “I think I’d need a crowbar to pry Frode out of the Iron Hills except for special occasions.”

“I might be doing my first UFC fight—that’s a major MMA promoter—in the next few weeks.” Val shoved her hands into her pockets. “Maybe…I don’t know, maybe you guys could come. Oh, wait. It’s right before the handfasting.”

“We might be a bit busy then, but I promise we’ll watch the live stream. We’ll be at the next one, though,” Bodil vowed.

“Cool.” Val grinned. “I’d like to have you both there.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Only for my wedding,” Bodil teased.

Val laughed. “I can forgive you for that.”

“Are you nervous about the fight?” Bodil asked.

Val considered the question. “A little. I can take down most humans with brute strength alone, but these pros are excellent, Bodil. Scary good. They won’t hurt me, but I’ll get my ass kicked in front of everyone the first couple of times.”

“That does sound scary,” Bodil empathized. “Is that the boutique?”

She pointed at glass doors in a sizable nineteenth-century building across the street. Val checked her navigation app and nodded. They waited for the light to cross the street. One guy wolf-whistled at Val, and she flipped him off without a second thought, only to find Bodil doing the same with both hands.

“Is this one para-owned?” Bodil quietly asked as they approached the doors. The black frames surrounded crystal-clear glass, allowing a glimpse of a calming beige interior.

Val shook her head. “Human-owned. I hope they’re not like that guy at the last one who kept talking about how hard it was to make flattering dresses for ‘little people.’”

“He was a bore, but it’s a refreshing change that you weren’t the one on the stereotyped end of the stick,” Bodil acknowledged.

They threw out their empty cups and entered a space that smelled like orchids, citrus, and incense. White walls rose from a pale pine floor. The trimmings and fittings were beige wood, too: the counter on one side, the round pedestal on the other, and the doors to the dressing room. Floor-to-ceiling mirrors surrounded much of the pedestal along the wall’s smooth curve.

“Fancy,” Bodil whispered. “Are you sure this place is in our budget?”

“Yes,” Val lied. It might not be in Bodil’s budget, but thanks to the booming jewelry business, it was in Val’s.

A fastidious human male in a pastel blue suit drifted over to them. “Good afternoon, ladies. You must be my two o’clock.”

“We’re a bit early,” Bodil apologized.

“Not at all, ma’am. I’m Kyle, and I’ll be dressing you today,” the man told her.

Kyle walked them through the questions Bodil had answered a dozen times that day. Finally, he steered her and Val into a dressing room with a rail full of dresses and tactfully retreated.

By now, there was nothing weird about seeing Bodil in her undies.

“I’m beginning to worry that we won’t find a dress today,” Bodil admitted.

“Hey, we don’t have to. We have time,” Val reassured her. “We found fabric for the bridesmaid dresses, at least.”

“You have great taste. That midnight blue is gorgeous.” Bodil sighed. “Maybe I’m being too picky. That V-neck one with the column skirt at the last place was pretty nice.”

“We’ll find one that’s perfect.” Val raised a dress on its hanger. “Maybe this one.”

“I’m not sure I like it,” Bodil confessed.

“They’re not supposed to be pretty on the hanger, right? They’re supposed to be pretty on you.” Val slipped the hanger out and helped Bodil to step into the dress, then secured it up her back with a long row of hooks. “Wow, this one fits you like it was made for you.”

“Their website did say they were passionate about inclusivity. This is the first human-owned place with multiple options for my height.” Bodil smoothed the gown’s front.

Val knelt to sort out the back, unruffling petticoats, then stood and stepped back. “Merlin’s beard, Bodil.” She blinked.

“What?” Bodil grimaced. “That bad?”

“You need to see this for yourself,” Val told her. “Come on.”

She led Bodil to the pedestal, and the dwarf stepped onto it with an effort. Then she turned and saw herself in the mirror.

Bodil froze.

“Oh, wow,” Kyle whispered.

“Right?” Val grinned. “I think this is the winner.”

Bodil’s hands rose to her mouth. She gazed at the dress’s reflection, taking in the A-line Mikado skirt that shimmered softly, the sheer bodice that ended in a sweetheart neckline supported by sturdy straps and decorated with lace that rose modestly to her chin. More lace spilled down the bodice and over the back to soften its lines.

She looked like more than a bride. Val’s heart swelled in her chest, and she blinked rapidly to hold back tears. Bodil looked like a bride fit for Frode. Val could think of no higher compliment.

“Oh, Dad,” Val whispered under her breath. She had to struggle to swallow the lump in her throat.

Bodil turned to Kyle, shining-eyed. “I love it.” She grasped the skirt in both hands and swished it back and forth. “I love it.”

“You’re a vision,” Kyle assured her.

“What do you think, Val?” Bodil shyly raised her eyes.

Val swallowed hard. “I think my dad deserves a bride exactly like you.”

Tears shimmered in Bodil’s eyes. “I love him, you know.”

Val smiled. “I do know.”

CHAPTER NINE

When Bodil suggested pedicures as they walked out of the boutique, the dress bag hanging over Val’s shoulder, Val quickly agreed.

“Between the tech exhibition and today, my feet need the TLC,” she confessed.

An hour later, Val and Bodil reclined in fancy chairs. The salon featured little fountains, calming houseplants, quiet music, and the smell of eucalyptus. Kind ladies with soft hands massaged their feet.

Val’s pedicurist was an ordinary Were, but she seemed to have magic in her fingers, judging by how they found the sorest spots in Val’s feet and kneaded the aches out.

“This was a brilliant idea,” Val told Bodil.

“I know! The spa in the Iron Hills is fine, but this is a whole new level.” Bodil groaned with pleasure.

“Dad gives a kick-ass foot massage, but I’m sure you know that.” Val grinned.

“Trust me, I know.” Bodil laughed. “He says he perfected his technique on you.”

A memory flashed through Val’s mind, and before she could stop herself, she blurted, “Yeah, Mom taught him how to do it.”

Silence hung between them.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Val grimaced. “I’m sure the last thing you want is to hear about my mother.”

“Actually...” Bodil reached across and rested her hand on Val’s forearm, eyes searching. “I’d love to know more about her if you want to talk about her. Your father seldom does.”

“I think he can’t,” Val murmured. “Not after what Mom did to him. To both of us.”

Bodil waited in undemanding silence.

“He told you that she left him, right?” Val asked.

Bodil nodded. “He said it was a long time ago.”

“Yeah, more than a decade, but it still stings.” Val bit her lip. “I...I still feel guilty about it sometimes.”

“Guilty?” Bodil raised her eyebrows. “If it was that long ago, you were only a child.”

“Nine.” Val swallowed. “I was nine and two inches taller than Dad.”

Bodil’s face fell. “Oh.”

“She couldn’t do it. My teachers at the bastion called her all the time to tell her I was picking fights in class and I was this big bully. All I remember is that everybody wanted a piece of me. Eventually, I got sick of it, so I gave it to them.” Val sighed.

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Bodil murmured.

“Dad knew what was up, and for a long time, he told my mom that I’d stop growing eventually. I didn’t. He kept trying to tell her my hair would grow, but it didn’t.” Val touched her brunette waves. “The first time Dad had to order my clothes online because nothing in the Iron Hills would fit me was the last straw for my mom. One day, she told us she was going to visit her parents in the Spine. Their house was an hour north of the Iron Hills by minecart. She never came back.”

“I’m so sorry, Val.” Bodil squeezed her arm.

“I kind of forgive her for leaving me,” Val mumbled. “I get why she did it. I was more than different. I looked like the wrong species. People thought it was proof that she’d cheated on my dad with an orc or an elf. That was on top of all the trouble I gave everybody and the logistical crap of dealing with a child who was three feet too tall for the village.”

“She should have seen that it was harder for you than for her.” Bodil tilted her head.

Val shrugged. “Like I say, I get why she left me. I’m over that. I can’t forgive her for leaving my dad.” She gritted her teeth. “He deserved better, Bodil. He never wavered with me. He never blamed me for anything, even when he lost customers because people believed his wife and business partner was a cheater. He’s never treated me as anything less than an Iron Dwarf like him.”

Tears stung her eyes. “He was good to her, too. So good. He used to bring her gifts all the time, make her laugh, rub her feet after a long day, and share the chores even though she was a less accomplished smith and usually had less work than he did. He was perfect with her, but she left him anyway. It broke his heart.”

Tears clawed the inside of Val’s throat. She had to stop.

“He doesn’t talk about her,” Bodil told her quietly, “but I can see what losing her did to him.”

“I did that to him,” Val blurted.

She’d never said the words aloud, and they startled her like she’d vomited blood. She stared at Bodil, wishing she could take them back.

“Eiravel, no.” Bodil switched her grip from Val’s arm to her hand and squeezed her fingers. “No, you didn’t. You’re the greatest joy in his life, do you know that? He’s so proud of you.”

“Sorry.” Val looked away, swallowing hard. “I, uh, I haven’t talked about her in a long time. Or, well, ever.”

“It’s okay. I’m touched that you’d share this with me.” Bodil paused. “Listen, there are two things that I really need you to know. I need you to take them seriously, too. Can you do that?”

Val raised her head. “Okay. What are they?”

“The first is that I’ll never do that to your father.” Bodil’s blue eyes held Val’s. “Frode is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s my greatest gift from Luna, my proof of divine love, my world. I know there will be times that I’ll hurt him in our marriage because that’s how marriage is, but I promise you that I’ll stay by his side for the rest of our lives, and I’ll do everything I can to be what he deserves.”

Val nodded slowly, her eyes stinging. Bodil’s hand trembled with sincerity as it gripped Val’s.

“The second thing is this.” Bodil inhaled. “What happened between your mom and dad is not your fault.”

Val looked away.

“I’m not trying to make you feel better, Val. I’m giving you facts.” Bodil squeezed her fingers lightly. “You were a kid, and you’re perfect the way Luna made you. Your mom should have seen that.”

Val couldn’t speak, but her fingers tightened on Bodil’s. She couldn’t believe Bodil’s words since if she was perfect, Mom would not have left, but Bodil believed them and was kind enough to say them. She didn’t know how to express how much that meant to her.

Afternoon traffic thronged Brownsville’s streets when Val and Bodil left the pedicurist. Beaters rubbed shoulders with newer cars whose dropped suspension looked less cool than their owners thought. Horns blared, and middle fingers flew. People crammed the sidewalks, including women in tight-packed groups with wary eyes. Where several feet of open space surrounded someone, Val felt violence emanating from them.

“Great pedicurist,” Bodil observed, scanning the crowd as they strolled to Genevieve.

People gave way before Val. She didn’t need more than a glare to part the crowd.

“Pity she’s not in the greatest part of town, though,” Bodil added.

“Brownsville has a lot going for it, but yeah, it has the highest crime rate in Brooklyn.” Val shrugged. “My MMA gym is right around the corner. My coach Diego does a lot to improve the neighborhood and help people here.”

“I’m not surprised your coach is an altruist too.” Bodil grinned.

They passed an alley filled with dumpsters, garbage, and graffiti between the nail salon and a liquor store with stern iron bars covering its façade.

“Diego’s a good dude. You’d like him.” Val paused. “Maybe you’ll meet him when you and Dad come to that fight.”

“I look forward to it,” Bodil assured her. “How does MMA work? Do you fight with battleaxes or shortswords?”

Val laughed. “Bare hands and feet.”

“Oh?” Bodil’s eyebrows shot up. “It must have felt different getting involved with that compared to sparring in the Iron Hills, where⁠—”

Val’s amulet throbbed against her skin. The bear-shaped pendant made of cast iron held deep magic she didn’t comprehend, but she knew what the throbbing meant. As Bodil chattered on, Val’s head swiveled, scanning their surroundings.

Deep magic or grave danger. One of the two was nearby.

The amulet pulsed faster, heating up, and Val rested a hand on the hilt of the dagger concealed beneath her tank top. She flexed her left wrist, feeling the reassuring weight of the bracelet that would unfold into a shield if need be.

Bodil had stopped. “Val?”

Val scanned the alley again and spotted him as he stepped from the shadows: a guy in a black hoodie, face hidden in shadow, hands in his pockets. Something jutted in his pocket. Knife or gun?

“Get behind me!” Val barked.

She stepped between the guy and Bodil as he pulled a switchblade from his pocket and moved in.

“Knife!” Val bellowed. “Everybody move!”

The crowd scattered. The guy hesitated, the whites of his eyes gleaming beneath his hoodie, then kept coming.

“Phones and wallets,” he hissed.

Bodil froze.

Val’s hand dropped away from her dagger. The would-be mugger held the switchblade like an eating knife, and it trembled. She could take this idiot unarmed any day.

“You don’t want to do this, man,” she told him.

The mugger waved his blade. “I’ve got a knife!”

“Yeah, bro, I can see that.” Val shrugged. “This isn’t going to end well for you. Put the knife down, and I’ll get you help instead of prison.”

“I’ll cut you, bitch!” the mugger yelped.

“Sure. Okay.” Val shrugged. “Have it your way, but I’m not giving you my phone.”

The mugger glanced at Bodil, then made his choice. He lunged at Val, slashing toward her arm with the knife. Val cross-blocked his arm with both of hers, then stepped toward him, keeping him from retracting the knife. Her shoulder rammed his chest. He emitted a strangled yelp as the knife clattered from his fingers, and Val casually dropped one shoulder and bucked upward with one hip. The mugger flipped over her head and landed flat on his back on the grimy sidewalk, groaning, his arm still under Val’s control.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Val twisted the guy’s arm, feeling tendons creak beneath her fingers.

“Ow. Ow!” the guy screamed. “Let me go! Mama!”

Val loosened her grip, and the mugger put up no resistance as she rolled him onto his chest and clutched both hands behind his back in one of hers.

“You good, Val?” Bodil inquired. “Need any help?”

“It’s cool, thanks.” Val pinned him with one knee, pulled her phone out with the other hand, and hit a recent number.

“Miss Stonehold?” Officer Sidney Harris answered. “What is it now?”

“Hey, Sidney!” Val grinned. “I have another one for you.”

Sidney arrived in record time; Brownsville was his beat. A crowd gathered on the sidewalk in the few minutes before the black-and-white cruiser purred to the scene. The liquor store did a bustling trade; its enterprising owner came out with pretzels and lured several people inside.

Val’s captive sat gloomily on the curb. She had relieved him of his switchblade and multiple needles from his pockets—her Iron Dwarven skin and differing DNA made her less vulnerable to injury than the cop would be—but hadn’t tied his hands. The fight had gone out of him. He stared into the gutter like it contained all the answers.

Sidney exited his cruiser and gave Genevieve a long, low whistle of appreciation, then turned to Val.

“Evening, Val.” Sidney’s meticulously trimmed salt-and-pepper mustache twitched. “What do you have for me?”

“Somebody who could use your help.” Val handed him a worn-out wallet, empty except for a Social Security card and expired lottery tickets. “Mr. Stanley here thought it’d be a good idea to mug us at knifepoint for a fix.”

“I pick the one woman in Brownsville who’s a cage fighter,” the mugger mumbled. “The universe hates me.”

“The universe might get you into rehab.” Sidney cuffed him.

“We’ve got witnesses if you need them.” Val gestured at several friendly, pretzel-munching humans. “Security footage from the liquor store, too.”

“Tied up in a bow, huh?” Sidney chuckled. “I’ll get to you in a second.”

Val turned to Bodil, who leaned on Genevieve’s hood, watching with interest. “Sorry,” she apologized. “We might be here for a while. If we get home too late for you to get the last tram to the Iron Hills, you’re welcome to stay at my house tonight.”

“That’s kind of you, Val, and don’t apologize.” Bodil grinned. “Watching that takedown was a privilege.”

Heat crept into Val’s cheeks.

“Your technique has improved a ton since the video of you fighting that Woodland Fae thug to protect Nadia Stewart,” Bodil added.

Val groaned. “You saw that?”

“Frode shows it to me almost daily,” Bodil told her.

Val moaned. “Dad! Sorry.”

“Hey, take the compliment.” Bodil patted her shoulder. “Seriously, your technique is impressive. I look forward to seeing you in the arena.”

Val smiled. “Thanks.”

They leaned against the Mustang, eating pretzels as Sidney interviewed the first witness. It wasn’t a bad way to finish the day.

Val slid a glass of Gold Pilsner across the bar to a red-eyed girl who grinned sloppily as she gripped the glass.

“Thish ish the besht beer in the city,” she slurred, pronouncing “city” like “shitty.” “What do you do to make it sho good?”

“Trade secret.” Val winked.

The girl chortled and wagged a finger at her. “Shmart.” She buried her nose in the pilsner and drank.

Val spotted a raised hand halfway down the bar and approached it.

“I’ll have your Iron IPA,” a guy requested, “and a pinot grigio for the lady, please.”

His girlfriend giggled. Val wondered if he knew she was an elf.

“Coming right up.” She inclined her head and stepped over Shadow to get to the dishwasher.

Tetra unpacked it, stacking clean glasses on their shelves with practiced speed. “Ever thought you’d see this place so busy on a Monday night?” the faerie asked.

Val grinned. “No, but I love it.”

The pilsner girl leaned on the bar to snap a picture of Shadow and almost fell over it.

Enzo hustled in from the bathroom’s direction. “Thanks, Val.” He took the tray from her. “You go back to bouncer duties. Looks like you’re needed.”

“I’ll keep an eye on her,” Val promised. “Any news from Jeff?”

“He’ll be fine.” Enzo waved a hand. “It’s only the flu. I’m not complaining.” He grinned. “It’s not every night you and I get to work together these days.”

“Straight.” Val grinned and mock-punched his shoulder.

She returned to her spot at the bar and nursed a glass of Anvil Brewery’s excellent new non-alcoholic line. Keeping an eye on the drunken pilsner girl, Val watched the bubbles rise through the amber fluid in her glass.

“What do you think, Shad?” she murmured. “Should we invest, or do I have enough on my plate already?”

Shadow snored under her stool. Val rubbed his shoulder with her toe and reminded herself that Dr. Wynthorn had said he was a happy creature, whatever he was. Heat crept through her cheeks at the thought of the weredeer vet.

“Don’t be absurd, Eiravel,” she commanded herself.

The pilsner girl snored with her head on the bar. Val kept a watchful eye on her as she sipped the beer.

A deep rumble rose from Val’s knees. Shadow was on his feet. His tail hung low and stiff, and his hackles rose slowly as a deep growl emanated from his massive chest.

“Shad?” Val raised her head as her amulet pulsed. “What’s up, dude?”

Shadow’s growl continued as the front door opened. In the absence of a line, the next patron walked right in, and Val’s gut clenched. Not because he was a Sylthana Elf—there were several at the bar—but because of his shirt. She didn’t recognize its insignia, a stylized flame cupped in the bowl of a crescent moon, but it gave her the heebie-jeebies.

She grabbed Tetra’s arm as the faerie hustled past. Shadow’s eyes never left the elf as he chose a seat at the bar.

“What?” Tetra demanded. “I’m busy.”

“See that guy?” Val nodded at him.

“What about him?” Tetra asked.

“The insignia on his shirt. It’s too much like the Dark Moon League’s banner for my comfort,” Val murmured. “Shadow doesn’t like him, either.”

“Throw him out, then,” Tetra hissed.

“It’s not that simple. Would you help me to keep an eye on him, please?”

Tetra shrugged. “Sure.”

“Thanks.” Val released her.

The faerie bustled to the new patron and dutifully pointed at the special offer on pilsner. The elf scoffed, tilting his head back. When he did so, his silver hair hung thick and luxurious below the stool’s seat. Val noted that it was untrimmed, according to Sylthana tradition.

“I don’t drink that dwarven shit,” he loudly announced. “Get me a glass of your best wine.”

“I’ll get you an attitude adjustment too if you’d like,” Tetra countered.

Val met her eyes and shook her head.

“Fine. Coming right up,” Tetra growled. She stomped away.

Val divided her attention between the sleeping girl, the elf, and the rest of the bar. The elf sneered at everyone as he sipped his wine.

Shadow sat at Val’s feet. He’d stopped growling but kept his ears pricked and didn’t take his eyes off the elf.

“It’s okay, dude.” Val rubbed his head. “I think he’s a standard asshat, not a threat.”

Shadow huffed.

“Excuse me. Sorry.” A vampire squeezed past the elf to lean on the bar. “The two-for-one Iron IPA special for us, please.”

“Sure, sir. Be there in a second.” Tetra tossed the dishcloth over her shoulder and hurried to the kegs.

“Thanks.” The vampire retreated a step.

The elf looked the vamp up and down, his sneer growing. “You people are drinking that dwarven crap now?”

The vampire met his gaze, then looked away.

“You heard me.” The elf raised his chin.

Val tensed.

“Then again, I should expect that from a species that disavowed human blood, their natural source of sustenance.” The elf scoffed. “You people hardly believe in the different species anymore. You’d rather play at being human.”

The vampire met his gaze. “Dude, you’re embarrassing yourself. You clearly don’t know the first thing about being a vampire if you think we need human blood for sustenance, so quit talking about us.”

The elf laughed. “I don’t know about being a vampire. That’s the point. I’m an elf. You’re a vamp. At least I have the decency to act like an elf.” He scoffed. “You probably side with the pro-imprisonment camp, you bunch of queen-worshipers.”

The vampire growled, and her fangs lengthened. “Don’t speak ill of my queen.”

“Your queen?” The elf shook his head. “You have a king, and it’s Julius Nox. That woman is only the queen of the Lunar Fae. She can’t presume to have dominion over the other species.”

“Pretty sure she can, dude,” the vampire countered.

Movement at the bar’s end caught Val’s attention. The drunken pilsner girl raised her head. She mopped drool from her lip and fumbled in her purse, checking for her belongings. Thanks to Val’s intimidating presence, everything was still there: phone, wallet, and car keys.

The girl gripped the keys and wobbled to her feet.

“Ah, shit.” Val slipped off her stool. “Shadow, watch those two.”

The dog didn’t move. He kept his gaze on the elf and the vampire as Val hurried past them.

“What gives her that right?” the elf demanded.

“Our kings, queens, and councilors did in the Pendragon Peace Charter,” the vampire snapped.

“Only because they had no choice!” the elf barked.

Val forced them out of her mind and focused on the girl, whose keys jingled as she swayed to the door on legs as slender and uncoordinated as a newborn deer’s.

“Hey! Hey, miss.” Val stepped in front of the door. “Hold on a second. Are you okay?”

The girl’s loose-lipped grin stretched wide. “You make the besht beer.” She poked Val’s belly. “The besht. Love it. Time to go home. Got work in the morning.” Her eyes narrowed. “Yesh. Work. It’sh Monday? Yesh. Work tomorrow.”

“I hear you, but I don’t think you should drive right now.” Val delicately took the girl’s keys. “Do you mind if I call you an Uber?”

“Uber?” The girl rapidly blinked as she struggled to focus on Val’s face, her wide pupils drinking in too much light. “Nah. I’m okay. I’m good.”

“It’s on me.” Val smiled. “You can get your car tomorrow, okay? We’ll keep the keys safe.”

“On you?” The girl grinned. “Your treat.”

“Yep.” Val laid a hand on her shoulder and gently steered her back to her seat. “My treat. Tetra, do you mind grabbing her a glass of water?”

“Sure, but maybe stop those two before they cause some shit,” Tetra muttered.

The Sylthana Elf was on his feet, fists bunched by his sides. The vampire’s fingernails extended into shimmering claws.

“Dude, I don’t want to fight you,” she snapped. “I want to drink my beer in peace. Get your ass away from the bar, and we won’t have a problem.”

“Clearly, we already have a problem,” the elf growled. “You don’t recognize Sylthana Elf sovereignty. Don’t you know how much better life used to be with an elf on the Eternity Throne? The Wild Hunt slept for ten thousand years because of us. We wouldn’t be dealing with all this crap if it wasn’t for the Lunar Fae!”

Val stepped forward, but a hand touched her arm. Enzo brushed past her and shook his head faintly.

“Better for me to handle this in the spirit of neutrality.”

Val stopped. Enzo was right. Iron Dwarves were among the Lunar Fae’s strongest natural allies. Having an orc break up this fight was far better optics.

“Hey, everybody.” Enzo donned an easy, tusky smile as he strolled between the elf and the vampire. “Let’s take it down a notch, huh? Have a drink. Take it easy. Everybody’s opinions are welcome here.”

The vampire’s fingernails shrank, but the elf glared. “How dare you tell me what to do? I’m your customer, and I’m an elf!”

“You’re in my bar, friend.” Enzo’s smile remained in place. “Tetra, get another glass of wine for this gentleman.” He handed the beers to the vampire. “Sorry for the disturbance.”

“No problem.” The vampire took the beers, glared at the elf, and headed for a booth.

“Disturbance? We were having a friendly debate.” The elf sat and accepted his free wine with a smirk. “Obviously, you don’t know the difference.”

“Debate’s a good thing, but when you’re raising your voice and looking for a fight, you’ve gone beyond debate,” Enzo warned. “We want to hear your thoughts, but humans are here, too. Keep it low-key. Got it?”

The elf scoffed. “You have no right to dictate my behavior, orc.”

Enzo’s eyes narrowed. “I glossed over your earlier speciesism. I won’t do it again. Watch yourself.”

The elf snorted. “Paras say that this is a neutral space, but you worship the queen like everybody else. You’re a bunch of sheep, do you know that? No critical thinking skills. You believe everything she says.”

Enzo inclined his head. “You’re right. This is a neutral space, but I won’t tolerate disrespect or aggression toward my patrons. That’s final.”

The elf scoffed. Shadow’s growl rumbled, but the patron ignored the big dog who stood behind Enzo with his hackles high.

“Who are you to tell me what to do?” he spat. “I’m an elf. You’re an orc. You’re a lesser being, you little monster.”

A gasp ran through the bar at the appalling slur, and Shadow barked. Val started forward, but Enzo moved faster. The orc’s dad bod spun with surprising agility, and before the elf could move, Enzo’s fist plowed into his jaw. His head snapped back, wine splashed his white pants, and he fell off the stool.

Val reached Enzo as the elf hit the floor on his back and lay still, out cold.

“The bar is neutral,” Enzo hissed, “but I’m becoming one-sided, asshole.”

Val prodded the elf with a toe.

“Is he dead?” Tetra eagerly asked.

“No, he’s okay.” Val chuckled. “You pack quite the punch, old man.”

“Careful who you call old,” Enzo growled. He turned to the shocked, silent bar, and his grin recovered. “Asshole neutralized! A round on the house for everybody!”

The crowd cheered. Pilsner Girl perked up.

“Everybody except you,” Val informed her.

The girl groaned and sipped her water.

Val called Raven to let the major know she had a present for the OPMA, tossed the unconscious elf over her shoulder, and carried him outside. She propped him up on the curb with a sticky note on his head that said, Love, Val. Shadow sat beside him to guard his undeserving ass until the OPMA picked him up.

When Val returned to the bar, the jovial mood had returned. The vampire chugged a beer with her dwarf and fae friends. The humans caroused, none the wiser.

“Where’s Enzo?” she whispered to Tetra.

Tetra grimaced. “In his office. He looked pissed.”

“He has a right to,” Val muttered. “You okay out here for the moment?”

“I’m good,” Tetra assured her.

Val headed to the tiny office at the back of the building. She found Enzo hunched over his aging computer, but his eyes weren’t on the screen. He stared into the middle distance, tapping a pen on his top teeth.

“Hey, man.” Val pulled up a rickety office chair. “You okay? He called you something horrific.” She grimaced.

Enzo shrugged. “It’s been a couple hundred years since anyone used the M-word on me,” he confessed. “Forgot how much it hurts.”

“If it helps, I feel you.” Val sighed. “Diana called me the C-word.”

“Shit.” Enzo’s eyes widened. “That’s screwed up. This whole thing is screwed up.”

“You mean the pro-death movement?” Val asked. “The paras who want the Hunters to be executed?”

“No, not really. I get that. Sylthana supremacism is a huge issue for me, but most paras on both sides of the Wild Hunt debate want the same thing: peace and safety.” Enzo sighed. “I understand why they want the Hunters dead, and it’s important for paras to feel safe to voice those opinions in my bar.”

“Paras are acting like you have to agree with every one of the queen’s policies to be loyal to her.” Val nodded. “Many paras on both sides of the issue are only here to stir shit up. Others are genuine traitors. Most are ordinary paras trying to keep their families safe. I agree with you, Enzo.”

The orc grimaced. “Maybe I shouldn’t have decked that asshole.”

“You did exactly the right thing. He was disorderly and threatening. Nobody on any side of the debate gets to be an asshole to our patrons, like you said.” Val folded her arms. “Types like him need to be thrown out on their ear. The peaceful paras should feel safe to debate here.”

“How can we do that?” Enzo wondered aloud.

Val rubbed her chin. “Well, what do most paras agree on? What do both sides of the debate have in common?”

“They want to keep their families safe?” Enzo guessed.

“Something else. Something lighthearted,” Val murmured. “We’re a bar, a place where they come to unwind and relax.”

“Sports,” Enzo suggested. “We always have our screen on that nifty thingy of Qenzi’s that shows human channels to humans and para channels to paras, but we’ve got it tuned to a mixed news channel that shows sports and other stuff too.”

“Maybe we should tune it to sports only. Wait, no. I hear jousting has become heated now with the Sylthana team so strong against the budding Lunar Fae team.” Val rubbed her chin. “What can we play that doesn’t have anything to do with pitting the species against each other?”

“Ice hockey.” Enzo shrugged. “MMA.”

“Good ideas, but we want paras to feel welcome here, too. Not like they’re walking into an exclusively human bar,” Val pointed out.

Enzo nodded. “Okay, how about ice hockey, MMA, and pegasus racing? Racing is about the pegasus, not the rider. Their jockeys are all different ages, genders, and species. We could add hippogriff jumping and backahasten dressage.”

“Great idea.” Val grinned. “Let’s do that.”

“While I have your ear, there’s something else we need to discuss.” Enzo leaned forward. “Have you thought more about investing in Anvil Brewery?”

Val ran a hand over her face. “Sorry, Enzo. They’ve sent a couple of reminder emails, and you made that long proposal, but truth be told, I haven’t had time to read it. I have so many commissions to tackle I’m snowed under.”

“Hey, don’t apologize.” Enzo held up a hand. “I get it. I know you’re busy, but I think we need to give Blair and Yuka an answer.”

“You’re right.” Val sighed and leaned back in her chair. “Okay, let’s decide. What are your thoughts?”

“I’m all for it.” Enzo grinned. “They’re a nice young couple, and the brewery and bar are a winning combination. Thanks to the success you’ve brought to the Iron Fist⁠—”

“Me?” Val smiled. “It’s been a team effort.”

“Generous, Val, but you can’t deny that this place took off after you and Anvil Brewery got involved.” Enzo paused. “Look, you bailed me out when I needed help. Blair and Yuka need that help now, and I would be honored to pay it forward.” His deep voice told Val how seriously he meant it.

“I think it’s a good investment,” Val told him, “but I don’t have the time or brain space to manage it, Enzo.”

“You won’t have to.” Enzo spread his hands. “I’m happy to invest in my personal capacity. I think investing as the Iron Fist would be better. Either way, I’ll shoulder the workload, Val. I don’t expect you to do anything.”

Val studied him. “I can see that it means a lot to you.” She smiled. “It’ll mean a lot to Blair and Yuka, too. I was worried I wouldn’t do you all justice, but if you’re happy to accept me as a silent partner, then I’m all in.”

“Great!” Enzo beamed. “They’ll be as happy as I am.”

Looking at the width of the orc’s smile, Val doubted it.

CHAPTER TEN

When Val received a commission from a werefox dad who wanted matching lockets for his kids who shared a first birthday, she stupidly thought of twins. It turned out that werefoxes had litters of up to eleven.

She grumbled as she sat at her workbench, painstakingly etching runes into the back of each heart-shaped steel locket. “It could’ve been worse, Val. He only has six.”

Resin beads within the lockets contained a strand of copper-red hair from each kit. The runes she carved on the outside would keep them all together when activated with a simple incantation. Considering the werefox had six toddlers to cope with, Val assumed the lockets were a gift to himself as much as to the kits.

“You’ll make sure they’re identical, right?” the werefox had pleaded on the phone. “They’ll fight about them otherwise.”

Val lowered her rune cutter and inspected the six lockets on the bench. They seemed identical to her, but what would the heightened senses of a werefox kit detect?

“Hey, buddy.” Val prodded Shadow with her toe where he lay under the workbench. “Could you smell these for me?”

Shadow snored.

“As if you could tell me how they smell anyway.” Val shook her head. “Maybe you can. Who knows? It depends on what you are.”

She checked her phone but saw no new messages from Niall Wynthorn. Val had saved his number. “Maybe he’s forgotten about your blood results.”

Shadow raised his head.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not looking for excuses to text him. Why would I?” Val demanded.

She typed a brief text.

Hi Dr. Wynthorn, any news on Shadow’s results yet? Thanks! Val.

“See? Nothing weird about that,” she muttered.

Her phone rang, making her heart jump into her mouth. She fumbled for it and saw Incoming video call.

“Shit!” Val’s phone slipped through her fingers and clattered on the floor.

Shadow barked.

Val scooped up her phone and read the caller ID: Capt. Bianca Hartshorn (OPMA).

Her thundering heart slowed, and she swiped to answer the call.

“Heyyyyyy, girl!” Bianca trilled. “How’s it going?” The succubus sat in an office with a large window overlooking a familiar, well-maintained campus. She was at the NYHQ.

“Hey. Fine. Totally fine.” Val cleared her throat and straightened the headwrap holding back her afro. “All good! Why wouldn’t it be?” She giggled.

Bianca smirked. “You thought I was someone else, didn’t you?”

“What? No!” Val’s cheeks blazed.

“Tell me everything. Who is he? Is he hot? Of course he’s hot. Is it someone I know?” Bianca demanded.

“There’s no one,” Val squeaked. She cleared her throat. “Did you need something from me, Captain?”

“All business today, huh? That’s cool. I will respect your privacy.” Bianca laughed. “As a matter of fact, I do need something from you. Is your team around?”

“Liam and Tetra were here a few minutes ago. You barely missed them,” Val told her. “They headed off on an errand. I think they’ll be back shortly, or I can call them and get them back immediately.”

“No, it’s cool. You can brief them. I need to handle this quickly.” Bianca paused. “We need your help with a delicate situation.”

“Oh?” Val raised her eyebrows. “I don’t usually do delicate.”

“Hey, you escorted Anne Dragavei-Nox to all seven vampire families without getting anyone killed. Well, no one innocent.” Bianca smirked. “I think you can handle this situation.”

“Tell me what’s up.” Val leaned back in the chair and rested her boots on the workbench, avoiding the delicate lockets.

“We’ve received a distress call from a young troll duke. Qeeth recently inherited his father’s duchy, unfortunately. He’s always been...wayward.” Bianca grimaced. “Normally a characteristic I like in a man, but in this case, it’ll land all of us in shit if we don’t manage it carefully.”

“Distress call?” Val asked. “Where is he?”

“At his girlfriend’s house. The difficulty is that his girlfriend is a drow noble. A close relative of Liaine, a princess, and the lead councilor for her people. This girl, Maeve, is Liaine’s cousin. That makes her half a step from drow royalty,” Bianca explained.

“The drow. Aren’t they Dark Elves?” Val asked.

“I’ll pretend you didn’t say that,” Bianca informed her.

Val grimaced. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t know it was a slur.”

“A lot of paras don’t, but now you do. The drow only recently joined the Eternity Council, and they didn’t make a good name for themselves in the process. I’m guessing you don’t know much of the history?”

Val uneasily chuckled. “Considering I called them a shitty name, no.”

“Now you know better,” Bianca told her graciously. “Okay, so the drow have lived in isolation from the rest of Avalon pretty much since Arthur created it. Their land is in the extreme north, and a mountain range separates it from Mistwood. We had no contact for thousands of years until Mordred rose.

“He got in touch with the drow and influenced their queen, Aine, who secretly turned against her people and enslaved hundreds of them to fight Mordred and Nimue’s battles for them. They were the deadliest threat we had in the early Third Pendragon War until Julie did the unthinkable, which is kind of her favorite thing.”

“Wait, I saw something about this in the news. Didn’t the queen visit the drow?”

“Indeed. She was the first outsider with the balls to do it. She took a small contingent to the drow lands on a diplomatic mission that ended in a brief but brutal civil war. Taylor, Julie, her honor guard, Eglantine, Merlin, and I kicked Aine’s ass. King Oisin remained loyal to the Eternity Throne. He executed her and sent his adopted daughter Liaine to be the councilor. Following so far?” Bianca inquired.

“More or less. The drow were not friendly, but now they are.”

“Friendly, but still feeling the effects of thousands of years of isolation,” Bianca explained. “Their traditions and customs are slow to change, and their culture is resistant to alteration.”

“Ah.” Val nodded. “I get you. So, a mixed-species relationship with one of their nobility won’t go down well.”

“Look, I don’t like it, but we have no choice but to respect it. Alienating the drow at a time like this would be a deadly mistake. Far better for us to approach this problem from a different angle.” Bianca sighed. “Besides, Qeeth is technically a trespasser. Under drow law, his girlfriend’s guardian has every right to have him drawn and quartered in public. Eternity Law disagrees, but Maeve lives in the drow embassy.”

“Oh, crap.” Val groaned. “He’s under drow law there.”

“Yep. If her auntie finds him, he’s toast, which could spark a war between the drow and trolls. That is one shitshow we do not need right now, girlfriend. Help us out?” Bianca asked.

“Of course. I assume the OPMA can’t get involved.”

Bianca groaned. “You assume correctly. We go in there guns blazing, and it’s a declaration of war. We need our favorite neutral third party to sort out this mess. You guys could rescue the young duke without escalating this, even if you’re caught.” She paused. “Not getting caught would be first prize.”

Val nodded. “Understood.” She gazed at the half-finished lockets, due for the litter’s birthday tomorrow. “Listen, I’m snowed under as usual, but I think this is a job for a scalpel instead of a hammer anyway. I’d like to send Tetra. She did well in her last mission, and⁠—”

“Yes! Do that!” Bianca shouted.

Val hesitated. “Okay.”

“Sorry.” Bianca laughed. “You’re fantastic, Val. The best there is. Tetra would be perfect for this job. Her faerie magic will work great. I commanded her adoptive dad and his family years ago, and they were perfect for stealth missions. Besides, I enjoy her reports.” The succubus chortled. “She words things in unique ways.”

Val suppressed a groan. “You could say that.”

“Send her,” Bianca ordered. “I know you’ll be available for backup, as will we if things go south.”

Val tried not to imagine a war between elves with shadow magic and the most technically brilliant paras in existence. “Let’s hope things don’t do that.”

“Amen to that, sister. Okay, I gotta go make an asshat Sylthana Elf talk. Thanks for finding him, by the way. Seems he’s part of a radical group. Bye, girl!” Bianca hung up.

Val ended the call and searched for Tetra’s number. She raised her phone to her ear, but the smithy door banged open before it could ring. Val almost fell off her stool. Shadow barely raised his head.

“Hey, Val!” Tetra yelled, bounding down the stairs. “Check it out!”

The faerie landed in the smithy and twirled. A sparkle of strawberry-scented faerie dust trickled from her fingers.

Val blinked. “Wow, you’re wearing an outfit that matches.” For once, Tetra’s blue jeans and navy golf shirt didn’t clash.

“Don’t be an idiot. Look!” Tetra stopped spinning and pointed at the emblem on her chest.

Val blinked. The logo showed a crossed hammer and dagger enclosed in an outline that started as rolling hills and ended with the right angles of Manhattan’s skyline. Words in bold white embroidery flowed beneath the image. STONEHOLD SECURITY SERVICES.

“Whoa.” Val rose. “Where did you get that?”

Liam trailed down the steps, his cheeks pink. He wore a matching shirt and clutched a third in both hands. “We had them made.”

“You did?” Val gaped at the logo. “Who designed them?”

“A friend of mine.” Liam cleared his throat. “I hope it’s okay that we had a logo designed without you, Val.”

“We wanted it to be a surprise.” Tetra deflated. “I guess we should have checked with you.”

“No!” Val laughed. “You guys look amazing!”

Tetra’s smile bounced back. “You like it?”

“I love it!” Val gushed. “It’s so professional.”

“Here’s yours.” Liam held it out. “Tetra eyeballed your size, so don’t be mad at me if it’s wrong.”

“I’ll try it on tonight and set the apartment on fire if it’s too big,” Val informed him.

Liam gasped. “Val!”

Val caressed the thick, silky fabric, which was breathable and soft. “Under Armour, huh? You guys didn’t skimp on the brand. This is incredible.”

“What do you think we are, philistines?” Tetra demanded.

Val almost commented on the human reference but caught herself because of Liam. “Thank you both so much. I love them.”

Liam beamed. “I’m so glad.”

“You’ve been working all the time lately, and we thought you could use a pick-me-up,” Tetra informed her.

“This sure qualifies. Thanks. You guys rock.” Val couldn’t resist. She wrapped Liam and Tetra in a quick, firm embrace, then released them, wondering what had gotten into her.

Tetra cleared her throat and looked away. “Cut that out. You’re making my feelings complicated.”

Val laughed. “This means more than you know, but you have no time to get emotional, Tetra. You’re going on another solo mission.”

Tetra’s head snapped up. “I am?”

“Why aren’t you coming?” Liam asked.

Val gestured at the workbench. “I have to work, and Tetra’s stealth skills are better suited for this one.”

Tetra’s eyes widened. “You...you’re sure? I mean, I didn’t know the first one went that well.”

Val rested a hand on her shoulder. “It went perfectly, and the stakes are even higher this time. I need your best work, but I know you can do it.”

Moisture shimmered in Tetra’s eyes. “I told you to cut that out,” she mumbled, looking away.

The only portal this mission required was the usual one: the 110th Street Bridge that led from the edge of Central Park into Avalon Town. Going through it was less nauseating in Genevieve, but Tetra’s stomach still bucked as the Mustang purred into the quiet plaza.

The hands-free system crackled as the connection changed.

“Okay, I’m in Avalon Town,” Tetra told Val over the phone. “I have to call Liam now. Where does he think we are this time?”

“Canada. Explains the shorter travel time,” Val clarified. “You’ll call me if you need help, right?”

“No, but I bet Liam will.” Tetra chuckled. “I’ll get this duke guy to take a selfie with me in my new shirt for the ’gram. Good marketing!”

“Tetra, no!” Val hissed, as Tetra had planned. “This is a top-secret mission!”

Tetra snickered. “Knew that would get a rise out of you.”

“Stay focused, okay? Stay safe, too. Drow have shadow magic,” Val reminded her.

“Yeah, you’ve told me a zillion times. I got this. Bye, bitch.” Tetra hung up, tapped Liam’s name, and slipped her earpiece in.

She ignored the steering wheel as Genevieve hummed onto the highway, Avalon’s lights sparking around her. Dawn was breaking in New York City when she left, but it was the small hours of the morning in Avalon.

“Hey, Tetra,” Liam answered. “Safe flight?”

“Shut up and focus. Where am I going?” Tetra demanded.

“It’s nice to hear your voice, too,” Liam grumbled. “Okay, take that road for another ten minutes. Your target is on the outskirts of town to the northeast, near the town hall.”

That was the code name for the Eternal Palace. Tetra realized that if this went south, the queen and her family would be on the firing line. Queen Julia was the one who’d sentenced Tetra to thirteen years of vassalship under Val. Tetra hadn’t forgiven her for it, but she’d be content with melting the queen’s face, not seeing her murdered and her kingdom toppled.

“You okay, Tetra?” Liam asked. “You’re quiet.”

“Fine. Thinking about how many people this could affect if it goes wrong,” the faerie growled.

Liam sighed. “All because a government official couldn’t keep it in his pants.”

“Or because another government official’s family is behind the times,” Tetra countered. “Either way, this could get intense.”

“As long as you remember to use non-lethal measures,” Liam stressed. “If you do⁠—”

“War,” Tetra growled. “There’ll be war.”

Liam exhaled. “Yep.”

Tetra flexed her fingers in her lap. Faerie dust sizzled on her jeggings, which she’d chosen for their navy color, making her inconspicuous. “No lethal measures,” she reminded herself.

Genevieve left Avalon’s lights behind and purred into the countryside beyond. She turned off a few miles before the palace road. The Eternal Palace glimmered on the horizon, a constellation of tower lights and giant spotlights illuminating the wall. Their destination lay farther south, tucked into the rolling hills of Southern Avalon, where stone walls enclosed fields of golden-fleeced sheep and crofts perched on the hillsides. Tetra wondered if it was true that Captain Jack Kaplan, one of the war’s most legendary badasses, had retired to one of those farms.

She shook her head. Focus, Tetra. “Genevieve, headlights,” she muttered.

The Mustang’s engine growled.

“Work with me here!” Tetra hissed. “Or do you want an interspecies incident?”

Genevieve switched off her lights, and the road disappeared.

“Two miles out,” Liam murmured. “You should be able to see the embassy.”

Tetra peered through the windshield. The overcast sky made the night nearly black, but no lights shone ahead.

“I don’t see it,” she whispered.

“Thermal imaging says it’s there and occupied. You’re approaching it now. Take the driveway on your left,” Liam instructed.

Genevieve turned smoothly, following a path Tetra hadn’t seen. Birch trees loomed on either side; Tetra could barely see them, but her faerie senses told her what they were. She squinted, using the vision that allowed her to hunt wolves in the dark, and barely perceived the outline of a grandiose building situated among vast lawns. Sitting in the car made her senses feel scrambled, but her skin prickled in the presence of magic she didn’t recognize.

Duh. Tetra shook her head. Drow live in darkness. They don’t need lights.

She shuddered as Genevieve slowed and turned off the wooded driveway to tuck herself into a stand of holly. Tetra stepped out and silently shut the door.

“Okay, Liam,” she whispered. “I’m here.”

“Good.” Liam tapped a keyboard. “According to our intel, our indiscreet young friend is in the north wing, second story, third window from the west.”

Tetra nodded. “Guards?”

“Thermal imaging says there’s one patrolling the fence line, one at the front door, and two patrolling the west wing. That’s only on the outside,” Liam told her.

“Okay. Give me a sec to orient myself.” Tetra dropped to her knees, connecting with the earth. She pressed both hands into soft, deep grass and raised her face, allowing the breeze to play over her skin.

Her vision adjusted enough to show her the outlines of windows and doors. She peered through the bushes, instantly spotting the guard at the west wing wall. Well, she assumed it was the guard. Shadows wreathed him and followed him like a cloak, hiding his humanoid form from Tetra’s vision. The shadow couldn’t hide his scent, though. She’d never smelled drow blood before. It seemed cold.

The breeze parted before it touched her skin, informing her of a palisade fence surrounding the building. As the ground vibrated under the footfalls of the passing guard, Tetra retreated into the shadows. He didn’t spot her or Genevieve and continued his patrol without slowing.

“Okay.” Tetra’s muscles tensed. “I’m ready.”

“Good. I’ll tell you when the guards move and offer you a blind spot. I’m thinking I need to hack into the building to create a diversion for the guards at the front door,” Liam muttered.

Tetra smiled. “They won’t see me.”

“Why not?” Liam demanded.

“Trust me on this, Liam.” Tetra opened her hands. “They won’t.”

She gathered invisibility dust in her palm and tossed it over her head. Holding her hand up to the sliver of moonlight piercing the cloud cover, Tetra saw nothing. She’d vanished even to her eyes.

It was trippy the first time one did it, but she’d spent enough time sneaking through the king’s castle in Fernwood Deep that invisibility felt natural. She stepped out from behind the bushes and strode to the fence. The patrolling guard moved with his back to her several hundred feet away, so she brought caustic dust to her palms and pressed them against the palisades. The metal melted, and she bent it aside.

“How long before the guard gets back to this spot in the fence?” she whispered.

Liam paused. “If he maintains his current pace, twenty minutes.”

“Shit. That’s how long I have until he sounds the alarm when he sees what I did to the fence.” Tetra squeezed through the gap. “I should’ve thought that through.”

“No kidding!” Liam hissed. “Watch out for the door guards.”

Tetra ignored them. She strolled across the lawn, hands in her pockets, senses trained on the guard at the west wing’s wall. The shadows made it impossible to see which way he faced, but judging by his footfalls, he, too, was walking away from her.

“How long before the guard at the west wing turns around?” she whispered.

“He makes a circuit every thirty seconds!” Liam squealed. “He’ll see you!”

“Shhh,” Tetra hissed.

She kept walking but removed one hand from her pocket and rubbed her fingers together. Faerie dust trickled from her fingertips, this time a shiny gold. Her feet didn’t leave the ground—she’d need wings for that—but she made almost no sound and barely bent the blades of grass as she walked.

The shadow-cloaked guard turned and resumed his march down the west wing wall. Tetra kept moving, mindful not to leave footprints by standing in one place too long. The floating dust was designed for use with flight, but it worked fine, and the drow guard had no idea she was there.

“Shit!” Liam exclaimed. “How did he not see you?”

“Would you believe me if I said magic?” Tetra asked under her breath.

Liam emitted a nervous chuckle.

The guard passed, and Tetra moved faster. She counted windows as she jogged to the wall. The one Liam indicated had a half-moon balcony with a stout stone rail. Given that it was a story above her head, it would be nothing to fly there for a faerie with wings, but vassalship had robbed Tetra of that privilege.

“Is he still in there, Lee?” Tetra asked.

“He is,” Liam confirmed.

“Can you put me in touch with him?” Tetra inquired.

“Sure. Hold on.” Liam’s fingers raced on the keyboard.

Tetra eyed the decorative masonry on the wall. The handholds and footholds she’d picked out on images of the embassy during mission prep now seemed insufficient, but no faerie quit. She bent her knees, used a puff of floating dust, and jumped. Her leap carried her six feet, and she seized the edge of a stone. Her fingertips slipped, but she hugged the wall and fumbled for a foothold.

“Hello? Hello?” Someone with a refined accent shining through the panic yelped in Tetra’s earpiece.

Her toe scraped noisily on the wall and found purchase between two stones. Breathing hard, Tetra froze. Extra invisibility dust trickled from her palms and flowed over her head, but it couldn’t hide the sound her shoe had made on the wall.

“Is anyone there?” the refined para quavered.

“Tetra, I think he’s spotted you,” Liam cried.

Tetra held her breath as she peered through her invisible arm. The drow guard came nearer, shadows swirling around him as he looked directly at her. This close, Tetra made out his features: skin the color of wet charcoal, a stout build, and white hair sweeping back from his forehead like pale flames. He carried a shortsword in one hand and a fistful of darkness in the other.

The drow studied the wall, focusing on Tetra. Invisibility dust had its limits.

“Excuse me?” the refined para whimpered.

“You’ve been made. Use a non-lethal measure!” Liam yelled.

Ah, crap. Tetra gritted her teeth and extended an arm. The drow’s eyes widened, and she flung a fistful of faerie dust at him. When the sand-colored dust landed on his face, his eyes crossed. A sloppy grin appeared, and he crumpled to the ground.

“What did you do?” Liam hissed.

“Tranquilized him. He’s fine. He’ll sleep it off, and he won’t remember a thing.” Tetra flicked floating dust on her feet and climbed a few feet. “We’ll have to hope nobody finds him in the meantime.”

“Shit,” Liam muttered. “You might have less time than we thought.”

“Um, hello?” the refined para whispered. “Are you there?”

“Yes, yes. You’re the duke, right?” Tetra grabbed another stone and hauled herself up two feet.

“I am.” The troll sighed.

“I’m coming up. Get your girlfriend to open the balcony door, and for Merlin’s sake, don’t let her act weird while she’s doing it,” Tetra hissed. “She’s getting fresh air, that’s all. I’m invisible. Don’t panic.”

“Invisible?” Duke Qeeth squeaked.

“I said not to panic,” Tetra growled. She grasped the balcony’s edge and swung by her arms, debating her next move. “Open the doors!”

Footsteps sounded behind the curtained French doors, fast at first, then more slowly. Tetra squeezed between two squat stone pillars supporting the balcony. She rolled upright as the doors opened, and an elegant female drow stepped onto the balcony. Her room was darker than outside, but her large, pale eyes darted everywhere as though she could see perfectly. Her wide pupils swallowed every scrap of light.

Tetra stepped out of the girl’s way. Wrapped in a silk shift, the girl drifted to the rail and gazed across the lawn as though admiring the view, which Tetra could barely see.

“I’m coming in,” she whispered, making the drow girl flinch. “Liam, there are no guards in the room with them, right?”

“None,” Liam confirmed. “Only in the hall outside.”

“Fine.” Tetra slipped through the doors into the dark room and rammed her shins into something. “Ouch!”

Hands groped her arms. “Is that you?”

“Touch me, and I’ll melt your face,” Tetra snarled.

“Sorry. I’m so sorry,” the young duke whimpered. “Maeve, you can come in now,” he added.

The drow returned and shut the door, casting the room into deeper darkness. Tetra saw only vague outlines in the dark: couches and a coffee table and a kitchenette in the corner, judging by the shape of what could have been a kettle.

“I’ve drawn the curtains.” The drow girl, Maeve, had a rich, rolling accent. “We can use a little light now.”

“My phone’s here somewhere,” Qeeth whimpered.

“Keith?” Liam mispronounced the name. “You’re talking to me on your phone, remember?”

“Oh, shit. Yeah. Right.” Qeeth cleared his throat, and his phone light shined directly in Tetra’s eyes.

“Cut that out!” Tetra hissed.

Qeeth jumped. The troll was so young that his tusks barely puckered his bottom lip. A mop of soft golden hair fell over his forehead, and he verged on comfortably chunky. He wore an absurdly nice pair of designer jeans and a shirt with the Polo logo buttoned to his chin.

Tetra brushed faerie dust off her clothes and hair.

Qeeth staggered backward, eyes huge. “What are you?”

“Keep it down,” Tetra whispered. “I’m a faerie.” She shook the last invisibility dust from her clothes.

“It’ll be okay, Qeeth.” Maeve touched his arm. “She’ll get you out of here.”

“How?” Qeeth moaned.

“She turned herself invisible. I think she’s got this,” Maeve pointed out.

Qeeth groaned and sagged onto a nearby couch. He kept his phone light pointing down, not near the windows. “I’m an idiot. I can’t believe I got us into this mess.”

“Neither can I. You’re supposed to be a duke.” Tetra shook her head. “Paras depend on you!”

“I know, okay?” Qeeth hissed. “I-I know.” His voice broke, and he covered his face with his hands.

“Tetra, you don’t have time for him to be hysterical,” Liam muttered. “The guard patrolling the perimeter will find your entry point in fifteen minutes. You and Genevieve need to be gone by then.”

“You heard the man.” Tetra rose. “Qeeth, get your ass up. We’re leaving.”

“Babe.” Maeve tugged his arm. “You have to go.”

Qeeth raised his head and let his hands fall into his lap but made no attempt to move. “This is all my fault.”

“No shit,” Tetra muttered.

“I don’t know how to do this, okay? I didn’t even have a handle on being an average teenager. I don’t understand any of this shit. I’m…lost.” Qeeth sighed. “My dad...”

“There’s no time for this.” Tetra grasped his arm and hauled him to his feet. “Say bye to your girlfriend, and let’s get out of here.”

“I’ll text you, babe.” Maeve gave him a peck on the cheek.

Qeeth stared at her. “You will? Even after all this?”

“Of course I will.” Maeve’s hand found his, and their fingers tangled. “I know tonight didn’t end as you’d hoped, but we’re worth fighting for. We just have to go about it the right way. Sneaking around in the shadows doesn’t do any good.” She smiled. “We’ll change people’s minds about us. I know we will.”

Qeeth’s face twitched with the effort to hold back his tears, but he nodded, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

“Now go.” Maeve cupped his cheek. “I’ll see you soon. Promise.”

“I love you,” Qeeth croaked.

Tetra sighed. “People, we need to go.”

“I love you, too,” Maeve whispered.

“Awww,” Liam crooned in Tetra’s ear.

“Are we done?” Tetra demanded. “We have a long-ass way to sneak through this embassy to get you back outside unless you feel like trying to climb down the wall.”

“There’s no need for that.” Maeve spread her hands, and darkness gathered between her fingers. “I can let you down the way you came in.”

“You can?” Tetra raised her eyebrows.

A smile tugged up the corners of Qeeth’s mouth. “She’s amazing.”

“I don’t care what she does as long as it gets us down quickly,” Tetra grumbled. “Come on, troll boy. Let’s get your unlucky ass home.”

She dragged Qeeth to the balcony, Maeve trailing behind. The troll switched off his phone’s flashlight as they reached the doors. Once outside, Tetra squinted in the scraps of starlight. The drow guard lay on his face, snoring, ass in the air.

Maeve stepped to the balcony’s edge. She spread her hands, pulling and tugging a shadow like dough, and shaped it into a long, flat oblong, like a surfboard.

“Okay, hop on,” she whispered.

Tetra hesitated.

“It’s okay. It’ll hold your weight, I promise,” Maeve assured her.

“I know it will, babe.” Qeeth tugged his arm out of Tetra’s grasp. He trailed his fingertips over Maeve’s arm as he approached the rail, then stepped over.

“Easy!” Tetra hissed. She grasped a fistful of gold floating dust and kept it ready as Qeeth swung both legs over the rail. The troll extended a foot toward the surfboard and tested it with a toe. It bobbed but didn’t drop.

“Keep moving,” Liam insisted.

“I don’t like this,” Tetra growled but scrambled over the rail as Qeeth crouched on the shadow surfboard. She stepped onto the simple shape, certain her foot would slip through, but the surface was solid. It sank a couple of inches as Tetra scrambled aboard.

“Maeve—” Qeeth began.

“Let us down. Quick,” Tetra ordered.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The surfboard gently drifted away from the balcony as Tetra clutched its edges. In moments, it landed on the ground. Tetra pulled her fingers out of the way, and the shadow surfboard vanished without leaving an impression on the grass.

“Okay, that was pretty cool,” she admitted.

Qeeth looked up as the French doors swung shut. A strangled sound rose in his throat.

“C’mon, lover boy.” Tetra gripped his arm. “Stay close. I need to make you invisible.”

She scattered the translucent dust over her and the troll. As she smoothed the dust over Qeeth’s left sleeve, rendering him invisible, Liam gasped.

“What?” Tetra demanded.

“Shit. Tetra, the door guards have spotted the place in the fence where you came through. They’re on their way to investigate!” Liam whispered. “You’re almost in their line of sight!”

“What are we going to do?” Qeeth wailed.

“Shhh!” Tetra ordered. “We’ll have to go through the fence somewhere else. Liam, where’s that guard on the perimeter?”

“There’s no way you can get out without being spotted.” Liam’s keyboard raced behind his words. “If you move directly to the north, the perimeter guard will spot you, but nobody else will. I think it’s your only chance. They’ll be everywhere once they realize someone has broken in.”

“We need to move.” Tetra gripped Qeeth’s hand. “If you let me go, they’ll see you. Got it?”

The troll made no sound.

“Are you nodding? I can’t see you, remember?” Tetra growled.

“Sorry. Sorry. Yes. I’ve got it,” Qeeth whimpered.

“Good. Let’s move.” Tetra jogged ahead, keeping a fistful of stun dust at the ready. It trailed behind her, leaving wisps of sand-colored dust decomposing on the grass. She could only hope the drow wouldn’t spot it. Qeeth whimpered, stumbled, and made as much noise as possible while Tetra tried to shush him quietly.

“Sorry. Sorry,” the duke whimpered.

“Shut up!” Tetra hissed.

“Tetra, look out!” Liam cried. “The perimeter guard’s moving faster. It’s like he’s in a car. He’s coming right at you!”

She spotted the perimeter guard as they neared the fence, mounted on a black stallion composed of shadow magic. The guard leaned low over the shadow horse’s whipping mane, riding toward where Tetra had hidden Genevieve. She hesitated, hoping he would not notice them. Then Qeeth stumbled hard and let out an echoing yelp of panic.

“Shhhh!” Tetra hissed.

The shadow horse reared as it skidded to a halt. The guard wheeled his magic steed around and raised an arm. A shadow spear formed in his hand, its tip toward Qeeth and Tetra.

“Stay close!” Tetra barked.

The horse charged. Tetra stood her ground, crushing Qeeth’s hand in her grip.

“He’s coming right at us!” Qeeth yelped. “He’s going to crush us!”

The horse accelerated, the rider’s spear held aloft. Tetra waited until he was feet away, then dove aside, yanking Qeeth with her. She fired a bolt of stun dust at the guard’s face, and the horse and spear vanished. The guard hit the ground and rolled, then lay in a snoring heap on the grass.

“What was that?” someone with a drow accent called.

“Run!” Tetra hissed.

She yanked Qeeth with her as she sprinted for the fence. He panted when they reached it. Tetra bent the bars aside with a sizzle of caustic dust and shoved Qeeth through the gap before following.

“We’re clear of the fence,” she informed Liam, dragging Qeeth over a stone wall into the field beyond. “Have they spotted Genevieve?”

“No. They’re moving away from her toward the guard you tranquilized. If you sprint, you’ll get to her before they see you,” Liam told her. “Go, go, go!”

Qeeth groaned.

“Move your ass!” Tetra ordered, emphasizing her words with a few flakes of caustic dust on the troll’s posterior. He squealed at the sting and ran, clutching Tetra’s hand. They dashed across the field, squeezed through the stile at the end, and plunged into the holly, Qeeth sobbing, Tetra cursing.

“Hurry!” Liam barked. “They’ve heard you. They’re turning toward you!”

Metal gleamed in the faint moonlight. Genevieve opened her doors as Tetra and Qeeth reached her.

“Get in!” Tetra ordered, releasing the troll’s hand.

He scrambled into the passenger seat, his outline returning. The bushes had scraped most of the invisibility dust off. Tetra flung herself behind the wheel.

“Get us out of here, Gennie,” she hissed.

Instead of her usual signature roar, Genevieve emitted a low electrical whine. She backed out of her hiding spot, lights still off, and pulled away gently enough that the only sound was the crunch of her tires on gravel.

“Did they see us?” Tetra barked.

“I don’t think so.” Liam exhaled. “They’re not chasing you, only looking at the spot where you broke the fence to get through.”

Tetra closed her eyes and allowed her head to bump on the headrest. Genevieve left the driveway and turned onto the main road. Her engine’s rumble returned, and she flicked her headlights on as she cruised down the asphalt.

Tetra opened her eyes. Spots of invisibility remained on Qeeth’s face and torso.

“Get the dust off. Then you’ll be able to see yourself,” she muttered.

“What? Oh. Of course. Thank you,” Qeeth stammered.

He slapped the invisibility dust from his body, and Tetra shook it out of her hair. It disintegrated and floated away.

“We’re good, Liam,” Tetra reported. “I’ll call you when we’re back in the city.”

“Okay.” Liam sighed. “That was intense. Well done.”

“Do you have any idea how dumb that was?” Tetra fished her earpiece out and put it in the glove box. “Do you know what war between drow and trolls could have done to paras everywhere?”

“I know, okay?” Qeeth shoved his hands into his messy hair. “I know I screwed up.”

“What were you thinking?” Tetra demanded. “No, wait, you weren’t thinking. The only thing on your mind was a hot drow girl.”

“It’s not like that!” Qeeth protested.

“One look at her boobs and your people didn’t matter to you anymore,” Tetra snapped.

“Don’t talk about Maeve like that.” A flush crept under the green tone of Qeeth’s skin. “That’s not what this is about. I didn’t go there to make out with her, okay? I was desperate to see her, and I couldn’t think of another way. She’s my best friend.” His tone wobbled. “She’s the only one who sees me as more than the Duke of Underbridge.”

Tetra rolled her eyes. “C’mon, man. Is that worth risking so many lives for?”

“No.” Qeeth spoke quietly, staring at his hands, knotted in his lap. “It’s not. I was desperate. I don’t know how to do this duke thing, okay?” He cleared his throat. “What I was trying to tell you earlier is my dad died three weeks ago. He was young and fit. It was a car crash.”

“Oh.” Tetra grimaced in the silence that filled Genevieve. “Uh, that’s shitty. I’m sorry.”

“He was a great dad. We had our differences, but we hung out, did stuff together, and had a normal dad-son bond even though I’d be the duke someday. I thought that was a long way in the future. We both did.” Qeeth swallowed. “He wanted me to be a normal kid and have a normal life until I was out of high school, and that was what happened. So now...”

“You have no idea what you’re doing,” Tetra summarized.

Qeeth flinched. “Pretty much.” He sighed. “I met Maeve at a ball in Avalon Town. We’ve been friends ever since, spending all those silly, formal occasions hiding behind drapes and giggling at everyone else. It was years before our friendship became...something else.” His blush deepened. “She was the only one who didn’t treat me differently after Dad...” He didn’t finish the sentence.

Tetra sighed. Inwardly, she cursed Val for exposing her to emotions. No faerie was designed to deal with this empathy shit.

“Look, I’m sorry about your dad.” Tetra shrugged. “I’ve lost parents too. Mine were crap, and it still hurt. I bet it sucks to go through what you’re going through.”

Qeeth raised his head. “Thanks.”

“I get why you wanted to see Maeve. She’s cool, and you needed a friend. That’s understandable, but whether you like it or not, you’re the Duke of Bottombridge now,” Tetra continued.

“Underbridge,” Qeeth corrected.

“Whatever. That means you’re responsible for a bunch of lives, right?” Tetra raised her eyebrows.

Qeeth turned his attention out of the window. “Fifty-one thousand, five hundred and forty-seven.”

“What?”

“That’s the number of trolls who live in my duchy. My subjects, as much as I hate the term.” Qeeth bit his upper lip with his stubby tusks. “I’m responsible for keeping them all safe and happy.”

“Exactly.” Tetra tilted her head. “See? You’re already getting it. I think being a duke means understanding that even your personal slip-ups can cause shit for thousands of innocent paras. You’ve got to take responsibility for that, Qeeth.”

“I’m not ready,” he quietly admitted.

“Obviously not.” Tetra snorted. “But that’s how it is now. The sooner you accept it, the easier this will get. You’ve got advisers and so on, right? Use them. Be honest with yourself about what you’re capable of, and quit doing stupid shit.”

A small smile flickered over Qeeth’s face. “’Quit doing stupid shit.’ I should put that on a bumper sticker.”

“Tattoo it on the back of your eyelids,” Tetra grumbled. “The troll embassy is only six miles away. You’ll be home in a sec.”

“I know. I walked those six miles,” Qeeth confessed.

“Hungry?” Tetra asked. “There’s snacks in the glovebox. I get peckish on missions.”

Qeeth eagerly opened the glovebox and recoiled. “There are two dead mice in there.”

“You can have one. Pass me the other.” Tetra held out a hand.

Squirming, Qeeth removed a mouse packaged in a Ziplock baggie and dropped it into Tetra’s palm. He shut the glovebox and stared fixedly through the windshield as Tetra enjoyed her snack.

“Um, speaking of responsibility.” Qeeth hesitated. “I think there’s something the queen should know about the drow embassy.”

“Oh? What?” Tetra sucked up the tail like spaghetti.

Qeeth interlaced his fingers and squeezed them together. “Look, I like most of the drow, especially Councilor Liaine and her husband. People look at them suspiciously, but they’re paras like us, you know? But there’s one there who gives me the creeps.”

“Who?” Tetra asked.

“Liaine’s adviser Niamh.” Qeeth grimaced. “A rumor’s doing the rounds that Niamh was close with Aine, Mordred’s drow queen ally. I don’t know if it’s true, but Niamh scares the shit out of me. She’s pushing hard for Liaine to support the death penalty being written into Eternity Law.”

“What does Liaine want?” Tetra asked, aware that if the death penalty existed in Eternity Law, she’d likely be dead now.

“She’s not budging yet. She supports the current Eternity Law, which makes her unpopular with many drow. Execution is written into their laws. That’s how I understand it, anyway.” Qeeth shrugged. “I’m not great at this stuff, but Niamh seems like more than an overbearing adviser. She’s always locked up in her study and won’t let anyone in. Liaine is worried about her but won’t report her adviser to the queen.”

“You think someone should report her.” Tetra raised her eyebrows.

Qeeth shrugged. “Like I said, I’m not good at this. I’m not good at anything except video games and animation, but every sense I have tells me Niamh is into something dark, and Maeve agrees.”

“I’ll mention it to the captain when I get back to the NYHQ,” Tetra promised.

Qeeth raised his head. “Really? You will?”

“Of course.” Tetra shrugged. “Better safe than sorry, right?”

Qeeth’s tight shoulders relaxed. “Thanks for taking this seriously.” He paused. “Thanks for everything.”

“Whatever, man. If you don’t want to eat that mouse, I will.” Tetra held out a hand.

The duke squirmed but handed the dead mouse over.

Dimension lag made Tetra’s eyelids feel heavy. She stifled a yawn as she stomped across the third floor of the NYHQ, the Staten Island-based headquarters of the OPMA. Curious, nerdy paras in the bullpen office that took up most of the floor watched her pass.

Tetra ignored them. She picked leaves off her Stonehold Security shirt as she strode to the office door at the far end. The bronze plaque read Captain Bianca Hartshorn.

“Miss? Miss, you can’t just—” the twittery assistant at the desk by the door protested.

Tetra ignored her. She shoved the door open, picking mouse bones out of her teeth with a thumbnail, and flung herself into one of the leather armchairs facing the large desk.

Bianca turned around. She was standing by the window that overlooked the campus. Two paintings hung side by side above her head, framed between her spiraling gazelle horns. One depicted a burly, bushy-eyebrowed man on a rearing horse, the other a naked faun with ripped abs.

“What’s up, Cap?” Tetra rested her feet on the desk. “I saved the troll. The drow are none the wiser.”

“So I hear.” Bianca fell into her desk chair. “Great job…again. Something tells me you’re not here for an attaboy.”

Tetra raised her eyebrows.

“Attagirl,” Bianca corrected.

“Actually, no.” Tetra studied her grimy fingernails. “Qeeth wanted me to talk to you about something.”

Bianca sighed. “Look, I already told him the Eternity Throne can’t throw its weight around regarding a species’ customs or culture. We won’t force Maeve’s guardian to let them date.”

“Amazingly, it’s not that,” Tetra told her. “It’s about a potential threat.”

Bianca straightened. “To Qeeth’s life?”

“Nope. To society in general, I guess.” Tetra waved her hands. “The Eternity Throne and shit. Avalon.”

“I’m listening.” Bianca leaned forward.

“Qeeth thinks there’s a drow in the embassy who’s up to no good, and by that, I mean dark magic. He sounds certain about it. He says she sets off his senses, and trolls have good ones if Qenzi is anything to go by.” Tetra folded her arms. “He says there are rumors that this drow has ties to Aine.”

Bianca steepled her fingers and studied Tetra with interest. “Is it Niamh?”

“Yep.” Tetra raised her chin. “Do you know about her?”

“Less than we’d like to, but we confirmed that Niamh ran with Aine back in the day. She renounced Aine and Mordred during the Purge of the Gleann, the period when Oisin and his allies tried to root out every trace of dark magic from the drow lands,” Bianca explained.

“Sounds bloody.” Tetra grinned. “I like it.”

Bianca laughed. “Oisin’s zeal for destroying dark magic was laudable, but many paras disagree with how he went about it. Drow have always been trigger-happy. Hundreds of drow were executed without what we would think of as a fair trial, but that’s how drow justice works. Anyway, during that time, Niamh came forward with information about a group of Aine’s supporters still practicing dark magic. The information was considered an honor price, and she was restored to her full societal standing.”

Tetra placed her feet on the floor and leaned forward, intrigued. “You think she did it to save her skin.”

“Can you blame her? Her only other choice was beheading. Julie respected Oisin’s decision to restore Niamh to honor, but we’ve kept a discreet eye on her. Eternity Law doesn’t allow us to invade her privacy. We can’t check her phone records or search her quarters without warrants and all that jazz.” Bianca rubbed her chin.

“Well, now you can because of what Qeeth said.” Tetra relayed what the troll had told her.

Bianca listened, head tilted, then grimaced. “I’m afraid it’s not actionable. We can’t do anything unless we have proof that Niamh is practicing dark magic, and what’s more, if we use that information to get a warrant, we’ll have to admit to the drow that Qeeth was in their embassy.”

“Ah.” Tetra nodded. “Which would cause the screw-up we’ve been trying to avoid.”

“Exactly. The OPMA can’t do anything about this.” Bianca grinned. “That’s not to say a good citizen with certain skills, concerned for the safety of all paras, couldn’t do a little spying on her own time, though.”

Tetra smirked. “You’re telling me to break the law and spy on Niamh?”

“I’m not giving you direct orders.” Bianca’s grin widened. “But if you do it and you get caught, you can count on the OPMA to keep you out of the shit.”

“Caught.” Tetra scoffed as she stood. “As if. Don’t you know I’m better than that?”

Bianca chuckled. “I’m starting to see that, yes. Let me know how it goes.”

“You bet, Cap.” Tetra flounced out of the office, excitement bubbling in her belly.

Val carried the book on dwarven runes under her arm as she marched into the library. Morning light touched everything with charming softness, bringing out the smell of books and coffee. Several paras were browsing the stacks along the grand staircase. In one of the reading nooks, a student snored, open-mouthed, with a massive tome on the thaumatechnical advances of the prewar period lying on his chest.

Lori Twigtoes looked up from the counter as Val approached. This time, she didn’t offer any headphones.

“Good morning, Miss Stonehold.” Lori smiled. “Hello to you too, Shadow.”

Shadow reared and placed his massive paws on the counter, tail waving.

“Morning,” Val muttered, dimension lag making her limbs feel heavy.

Lori tilted her head. “Were you dissatisfied with your book, Miss Stonehold?”

“No, no. Sorry. Tired, that’s all.” Val stifled a yawn. “I finished a commission for six werefox cubs at midnight New York time and drove to Avalon to drop them off before their birthday party.”

“You must be exhausted.” Lori laughed. “You could have brought the book back another time. You still have a week.”

“No, it’s cool. I finished it.” Val set it on the counter between the book piles, pen holders, and empty coffee mugs.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” Lori asked.

Val paused. “I found something, but no solid answers yet. The book mentioned bonding with creatures to boost an Iron Dwarf’s magic. It was cryptic, but it mentioned Warriors of the Red Bear.” She stroked Shadow’s broad back. “I’ve noticed that he does something to my magic when he’s around. Maybe if I research this more, I’ll find answers.”

Lori nodded. “I’m not familiar with the magic you’re looking for, but we have a small Iron Dwarven section.” She sighed. “My grandmother told me that thousands of years ago, when King Arthur built Avalon Town and gave my family the privilege of building the library, we had a whole wing for each species, including Iron Dwarves. Mordred’s followers torched the library during a battle of the Second Pendragon War, and thousands of books were lost. All that knowledge just…gone.”

Valerie sighed. “Mordred screwed shit up for so many paras.”

“Generations of paras,” Lori agreed. “Still, we saved a few books. There is a small Iron Dwarven section next to the creature section up the staircase. Follow the signs.”

“Cool. Thanks.” Val hesitated. “Did the Iron Dwarves save any knowledge from before the Pendragon Wars?”

“I can’t speak for the rest of Avalon, but no one has brought new Iron Dwarven books to us for centuries,” Lori told her. “Perhaps in the Iron Hills.”

Val shook her head. “We barely have a library there.”

“So much was lost.” Lori sorrowfully shook her head. “So much.”

Val tugged Shadow’s leash and stepped away from the counter. They approached the stairs, Shadow pacing beside her as she chewed her bottom lip, deep in thought. Why did her people care so little for the heritage other para groups fought to protect? Perhaps because Iron Dwarven magic had survived thanks to weaponsmiths fueling the war on both sides. The practical side of ironsmithing hadn’t been lost. But what had?

Shadow yanked on the leash so sharply that he almost pulled Val off her feet.

“Dude!” she protested, gripping the leash as she staggered across the wooden floor. “What are you doing?”

Shadow’s tail was high and wagged steadily. His nose twitched as he strained against his collar, hauling Val away from the stairs.

“Cut it out!” Val spluttered, bracing her feet, but Shadow kept pulling with surprising strength. He wheezed as his collar dug into his throat. Worried that she’d hurt him, Val relaxed the leash and allowed him to drag her across the library.

“Where are you going?” she hissed.

Shadow’s tail wagged faster. Head outstretched, he strained to pull her toward an arch on the south side of the tower. It led to the annex she’d noticed from outside the first time she came here. A blue banner over the doorway read Esmerelda Pendragon Lunar Fae Section in a silver medieval font.

“We’re not Lunar Fae, in case you haven’t noticed,” Val growled.

Shadow ignored her. He towed her into the section, which had no windows, but a massive crescent-moon-shaped skylight allowed sunshine to stream in. Selenite inlaid in the walls and ceiling glowed softly. Her amulet hummed in response to its magic. Shelves made of pale, creamy pine stretched across the floor in quiet rows, and a reading area at the back sported leather couches, desks, memory orb viewers, a projector, a big screen, and several laptops.

Val scanned the titles on the nearest shelf as Shadow towed her past it. Origins of the Pendragon Family. Arthur: A Biography. Will Arthur’s Curse Ever Break? A Study of the Sleeping Spell, Volume I. Beside it was a newer book: Arthur’s Curse Broke! A Study of the Sleeping Spell, Volume II.

“Hey, this is cool,” she commented.

Shadow stopped so abruptly that she nearly tripped over him.

“Crap! Dude,” Val spluttered, bracing herself on his wiggly ass to keep from stomping on his toes. “What now?”

Shadow sniffed hard, nose twitching, tail wagging faster. His trembling nose hovered half an inch from a thin leather-bound book with no title on its well-worn spine.

“You want me to read this one?” Val asked.

Shadow looked up at her and barked.

“Shhh. No barking in the library,” Val hissed.

She slid the book from the shelf. Heat from the amulet shot through her chest, and she nearly dropped the book. Powerful magic crackled between her fingers. It was far older and more profound than iron magic, Val knew. She’d felt it before in selenite. This was lunar magic, the power that had crafted Avalon.

“Wow,” she whispered.

The leather cover had no words, and its ragged edges spoke of tremendous age. Val opened it with great care. The paper within was yellow, coarse, and thick like parchment, except it was even older. The first few pages were blank. Val turned several more and couldn’t see any words.

“It’s empty,” she told Shadow. “Some writer buried their favorite notebook ten thousand years ago because it was far too nice to use.”

Shadow huffed.

“You’re right. There has to be something in here. I can feel its magic.” Val tilted the book and raised it to the light, and her eye caught shapes on the page—faint indentations like someone had written on it without ink. No matter how Val turned the book to catch the light, she couldn’t make out the words, only a few lines on each page.

“Cool but useless,” she summarized.

She went to replace the book on the shelf, but Shadow whined. His brown eyes met hers, and his tail drooped.

Val sighed and sank to her knees. She buried her free hand in the thick fur on his neck and rubbed the itchy spot under his collar as he liked. Shadow sighed and pressed his nose into the crook of her arm.

“I know you’re trying to help me figure out what you are, buddy,” Val murmured. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I’ll do everything I can to help you, okay?”

She kissed the top of his head and rose. He jogged beside her, tail waving, as she strode to the counter with the mysterious book in her hand.

Lori leaned on the counter, coffee cup in one hand, book in the other. As she read, her wrist slackened, and the coffee slopped dangerously near the edge of the cup.

“Lori, your coffee,” Val warned.

Lori straightened the cup without lifting her gaze from the book. “Found what you were looking for?”

“I don’t know,” Val admitted.

Lori ignored her, eyes dancing from one line to the next.

“Lori?” Val prompted.

“Sorry.” Lori finally lowered the book. “This is a great fight scene. Can I help you?”

“I don’t know,” Val repeated. She held out the mysterious book. “Shadow thinks I should read this, but, like, there’s nothing in it.”

Lori peered over the counter at Shadow, who was currently licking his asshole. “Shadow thinks⁠—”

“Roll with it. Please,” Val begged.

“Okay.” Lori took the book. “Oh, this is very interesting.”

“What is? There’s nothing in it. I think.” Val grimaced.

“Actually, this was written in Crescent Lunar,” Lori explained. “They’re powerful runes that can only be read by the light of a crescent moon. Lunar Fae developed this writing during the reign of Kronos to send messages to one another without the Sylthana Elves reading them.”

“Whoa. Okay. That’s cool.” Val tilted her head. “What do the runes look like? Will I be able to read them? I’m fluent in Runic Dwarvish and know several other rune languages, but I’ve only read a handful of lunar runes.”

“You’ll be able to make out bits and pieces, I think, but you won’t understand the full text. It’s okay, though. We can use a translator.” Lori fished among the books, pens, and coffee mugs for her phone.

“A translator?” Val echoed.

“Yeah. The OPMA’s IT department recently developed a rune translator. The Knights of the Round Table unearthed thousands of lunar texts in the past few years as part of the Lunar Fae restoration project, and there are few paras left who can read lunar runes, so this translator app helps.” Lori showed Val her phone. “You can download it from the para app store. It costs a couple of dollars, but the proceeds go to the restoration project.”

“That’s cool.” Val nodded. “So, when it’s a crescent moon, I hold up the book and point my phone at it?”

“Exactly. The translated text will appear at the bottom of the screen,” Lori explained. “It translates more than lunar runes, too. They’re adding new languages every day.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Lori. This could even help with my jewelry-making.” Val raised the book. “Can I check this out?”

Lori hesitated. “It’s ancient and valuable, but the queen trusts you. Don’t let your dog chew it, okay?”

Shadow whined.

“He says he won’t,” Val joked.

Lori nodded as though Shadow understood. Maybe he did.

CHAPTER TWELVE

“You okay, Val?” Enzo asked.

The elevator inexorably climbed toward the thirtieth floor of the grand Wall Street building. Val gripped the rail with white knuckles as sweat beaded on her forehead.

“Fine,” she growled.

“Dwarves and heights, huh?” Enzo grimaced in sympathy.

“It’s not my favorite thing,” Val admitted.

“You’re the one with the fancy-schmancy bank manager.” Enzo smirked. “I would’ve signed the papers at the Brooklyn branch of Gold, Manns, and Sax.”

“Regretting it.” Val groaned.

“Hey, I’m teasing. Thanks for setting this up.” Enzo clutched the investment papers in their manila envelope and grinned like a little boy with a fistful of candy.

Val chuckled. “Thanks for doing all the work. All I did was call Freya to help with the financial part.”

The elevator halted, causing a sickening swoop in Val’s stomach. She escaped into the opulent waiting room, keeping her eyes averted from the floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a gut-wrenching view of the Financial District.

Three paras rose from the waiting room couches: Blair, Yuka, and a hook-nosed vampire.

Blair and Yuka greeted them with enthusiasm. The vampire shuffled forward, his red eyes bright in a face that sagged with its centuries, and held out a bony hand. “It’s nice to see you again, Val.”

Val gripped his hand. His warm, sincere grasp always surprised her. “Thanks for handling the legal aspects here, Bartholomew.”

Bartholomew Diaz, Enzo’s brother-in-law, smiled kindly, flashing his white fangs. “It’s always a pleasure to help you, especially after what you did.”

Val blinked, trying to figure out what he was talking about.

“I shudder to think what would have happened to Dante if you hadn’t saved him from that dark magic ritual.” Bartholomew shivered. “I know the boy got himself into it, but he’s turned over a new leaf since you saved him.”

“Nobody’s kid should end up in dark magic. Dante’s a good person. He got a little lost, that’s all.” Val shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone once in a while?”

“Yes, but he could have gotten himself killed if it wasn’t for you.” Bartholomew smiled. “You did more than rescue him from ghouls, Val. He’s been different since you talked to him.”

Val shuffled her feet. “I’m glad he’s okay. That’s all that counts.”

“I don’t know what you said to him, but whatever it was, it changed him.” Bartholomew paused. “He looks up to you, Val. You inspire him. That you live your life to the full because of your differences, not despite them, has helped him turn his life around.”

Because of your differences, not despite them. Val blinked, startled by the idea. She’d overcome her gigantism and alopecia to live the life she had now. Surely she was successful despite her afflictions, not because of them...or was she?

Before she could figure out what to say to Bartholomew, a stout female dwarf with honey-gold hair and a beard stepped from her office.

“Miss Stonehold, welcome.” The dwarf extended her hand and gripped Val’s with warmth. “It’s good to see you.”

“Hi, Ms. Gold. How’s the sickle?” Val asked.

“In the vault where it belongs, thanks to you.” She smiled. “This must be Mr. Lombardi.”

“Enzo, this is Freya Gold,” Val introduced.

Enzo’s eyes widened. “The Gold of Gold, Manns, and Sax?”

“That’s right.” Freya beamed. “It’s an honor to meet you. Mr. Diaz, having you in my office is always a pleasure. Miss Marniq, Mr. Abercrombie, welcome. Please, come inside. I will have refreshments brought up shortly.”

She ushered them across the floor to her office. Still holding his envelope, Enzo was practically skipping with excitement.

This time, Tetra had the sense to leave Genevieve parked in the nearby field, hidden behind the stone wall. The Mustang gave her lip about going through the muddy field, resulting in several minutes’ stalemate as Tetra tried to turn the wheel and Genevieve ground her gears, but Tetra finally succeeded in convincing her to stay hidden.

“I know it goes against your nature, okay?” the faerie hissed, finally disembarking. “Your whole thing is for people to stare at you. Take a break for an hour. Deal with it.”

Genevieve rolled onto Tetra’s toe.

“Ow!” Tetra leaped back, her foot sliding out from under the tire thanks to the deep mud. “Screw you, Gennie.”

Genevieve poked her in the ass with a windshield wiper.

“Cars,” Tetra muttered, stumbling away through the mud. “Hate them.”

She touched her earpiece as she scrambled over the wall, and Liam spoke in her ear. “I don’t like this.”

“You don’t like much, Lee.” Tetra scattered invisibility dust over her head and waited for it to take effect as she crouched in the wall’s shadow.

“I wish Val had gone with you,” Liam told her.

“Let’s face it. Val has many admirable qualities, but stealth isn’t one of her gifts.” Tetra jogged across the road barefoot; months of city living hadn’t eroded the calluses from a lifetime in the woods, and she moved in near-silence. “This is a major threat. We need to find out more.”

“Potentially illegal, shrouded in mystery, and definitely life-threatening. My favorite kind of mission,” Liam grumbled. “They’ve increased the guards and fortified the fence since you last were here.”

“Surprise, surprise,” Tetra muttered.

“Did you not look at the report I sent for you to read on the flight?” Liam demanded.

“Reading is overrated,” Tetra told him.

“Tetra, that was essential mission information!” Liam exclaimed.

“Yeah, and you can give it to me over the phone. Where’s this chick’s room?” Tetra asked.

Liam sighed. “The room you’re looking for is several doors down from the one where Keith was. The fence is now electrified, so you won’t be able to use whatever amazing tool you did last time to bend the bars.”

Tetra flexed her fingers, snickering at “amazing tool.”

“I’ve found a tree on the fence’s north side that might help you. One of its branches extends over the fence. If you can climb it and drop down on the other side, you’ll be in,” Liam explained. “Turn slightly to the west. It’s three hundred yards down.”

Tonight’s cloud cover favored Tetra. A sliver of the moon provided enough light that her faerie vision extended farther than last time. She spotted the giant oak at the fence line and made toward it.

“How will I get out?” she asked.

“Kenzie packed something in your backpack for that. I’ve never seen anything like it.” Soppy admiration filled Liam’s tone. “It’s a grappling hook on a rope as thin as a thread. She couldn’t tell me what it was made of, but it’s an incredible substance.”

Gleipnir steel, Tetra thought. The metal that had bound Fenrir. She knew about it because Val had made an unbreakable armband/blade combination from it recently and raved about the metal for days.

“Light as spider silk but strong enough to hold your weight,” Liam added.

“Cool. That works.” Tetra reached the tree and crouched behind the trunk, peering through the fence. There was no sign of an electric wire, but the air shimmered, distorted. Tetra picked up a pebble and tossed it. It bounced off several inches from the fence, and a flash of purple lit the night.

Shit. It’s warded. Tetra raised her chin, studying the branch with the tip extending over the fence. She could only hope the wards didn’t extend higher than the fence. Maybe not. Val had told her that warding was prohibitively expensive for most paras, even nobles.

“Talk to me about the guards,” Tetra whispered.

“Same configurations as before, except this time, they’re patrolling in pairs. Also, the guards patrolling the perimeter are moving too fast to be walking. I can’t make out what they’re on. ATVs, maybe.”

Shadow horses. Tetra gritted her teeth, recalling that those horses could change shape at their riders’ will. They could sprout fangs and claws, for instance.

“Best to avoid those,” she whispered.

“They’re approaching you now. Stay hidden,” Liam ordered.

Invisibility dust or not, Tetra elected to tuck herself behind the tree as the sound of cloaks flapping came nearer. The shadow horses moved without hoofbeats in eerie synchrony, hooves touching the ground in unison. Their riders had both hands free for their swords and rode with their weapons drawn. A chill crept under Tetra’s skin as they passed, pale eyes scanning their surroundings.

She reminded herself that these guys were as likely to support Liaine, a loyal proponent for peace, as that bitch Niamh. Best not to melt their faces and eat their still-beating hearts.

The shadow horses sped into the distance, and Tetra scrambled up the tree, puffs of floating dust propelling her effortlessly from branch to branch.

“You’re some climber,” Liam remarked.

“Thanks, dude. You would be too if you’d grown up feral in the woods.” Tetra edged along the branch that stretched over the fence. It was slender where its tip extended above the metal spikes.

“I believe it,” Liam muttered.

Tetra stepped out farther, bare toes gripping bark, but hesitated as the branch dipped. A leaf dropped from its tip and fell until it reached the metal spikes. Purple flashed, and it bounced off the ward.

Okay. The ward extends only as high as the fence. Tetra bit her lip. But I’ll need floating dust to reach the branch’s end without hitting the fence.

“You good?” Liam asked.

“Mmhmm.” Tetra moved quickly. She puffed bright gold dust out of her bare feet and sprinted down the branch.

“Slowly!” Liam hissed. “You need the grappling hook to get down!”

Tetra ignored him. The branch bucked under her feet like a diving board but held. She launched off the edge and tumbled, slowing her fall with blasts of floating dust. When she hit the ground feet-first, the impact was loud, and she landed heavily on her hands and knees.

“You okay?” Liam squeaked.

Invisibility dust trickled from her clothes, and Tetra’s hands shimmered into view, fingers pressed into the grass.

“Shit,” she whispered. “Lee, where are the wall guards?”

She rubbed invisibility dust into her hands as she scrambled to her feet.

“Turning at the northwest corner and coming toward you,” Liam hissed, “but they haven’t spotted you. Find cover, quick!”

Tetra jogged away from the bits of glowing gold dust fading into the night. By the time the guards passed her, the dust was gone. For a heart-wrenching instant, their pale eyes scanned Tetra as they marched by, carrying shadow shortswords in each hand. Neither guard slowed. Their gazes slipped past her, and they kept marching.

“How did you do that?” Liam hissed.

“I’m at the wall,” Tetra whispered. “Which window was it?”

“Last one on the west. In the corner,” Liam told her.

Tetra had a few minutes before the guards returned, but she hurried anyway. The heavy quoins’ jutting edges made climbing the corner manageable, so Tetra needed no floating dust to climb to the window. This one didn’t feature a balcony, only a large arched window with a heavy stone sill offering a broad ledge to stand on.

“Anyone inside?” Tetra asked, hanging onto the ledge.

“No, but someone’s coming toward you in the hallway. Maybe you should wait,” Liam suggested.

Tetra knew she had to get inside before anyone came into the room. She hauled herself onto the ledge and tested the window. “Locked,” she murmured under her breath. It had no bars, only a heavy iron frame and a latch.

“Shit,” Liam growled.

Tetra pressed her index finger to the glass. Caustic dust hissed on the surface, melting a hole big enough for her finger to slip through. She flipped the latch and withdrew it, hoping nobody would notice the hole until she was long gone.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. Tetra slipped through the window, latched it silently, and dropped to the floor. She sprinted for the deep shadows in a corner and sprinkled another handful of invisibility dust over her head as the door swung open.

In the moonlight from the window, Tetra made out the person standing in the doorway: an unusually tall female drow, her long ears sweeping up on either side of her head. Her styled hair rose in a flame-shaped quiff from her high brow. A dress made of black wolfskins hung from her slender but robust frame. It left her arms bare despite the fur ruff rising from her shoulders, revealing a silver patchwork of scars on her charcoal skin.

Niamh’s white eyes seemed brighter and more piercing than other drow’s. She strolled into the room, the light catching her necklace. Its pale metal chain and setting could have been real silver. The dollar-sized gemstone within was like a tiger’s eye but red instead of brown.

Despite herself, Tetra shrank deeper into the corner.

Liam took tiny, tense breaths in her earpiece as Niamh crossed the room to a massive desk opposite Tetra’s corner. She settled into a high-backed chair, allowing Tetra a few moments’ peace to look around the study. The more she looked, the more goosebumps rose on her skin.

Ruthless orderliness characterized the space. Tall metal shelves against the walls held labeled boxes lined up at perfect intervals. The bare stone floor had no rugs. There was no fireplace. The formidable desk was heavy ebony with metal knobs and decorations, possibly silver. Stone walls met the featureless ceiling, bare except for the shelves.

Tetra shivered, longing for her messy apartment.

Niamh opened a drawer, the sound making Tetra jump, and extracted a stack of books. She placed them on the desk’s bare top and opened two: a heavy tome and a cheap notebook covered in hard-edged and brutally legible handwriting.

Tetra’s toes curled on the cold stone. She needed to get closer, though everything in her screamed to flee. Pushing the gut feeling aside, Tetra edged across the floor, glancing at the shelves as she passed them. She couldn’t tell what was in the boxes. Their labels had only numbers.

Niamh touched the only other object on the desk, a small electric lamp, and turned it on. A pale circle of white light fell on the books, and Tetra hovered a few feet from the desk, leaning forward to read.

Kronos was the first Wild Hunter. Thanks to Sol’s dark magic, he became a warped, twisted, and lost spirit after his death at the hands of Zeus, a hero suspected to be half Sylthana Elf and half Lunar Fae.

Tetra raised her eyebrows. That was a very different narrative from the one the Sylthana Elves believed. According to them, Zeus’ parents Gaia and Kronos were both elves.

With the help of Medb of Connacht, Kronos gave up his soul for a semblance of immortality, existing as a mindless spirit that had forgotten everything he once was except for the evil he had become. Other paranormals of dark magic believed this was the path to eternal life. They ignored the abundant offerings of Luna and performed that depraved ritual instead.

“I know, I know,” Niamh muttered under her breath, her thick accent jarring. “Tell me what the ritual was!”

With each villain that joined the Wild Hunt, its magic grew stronger. Apophis added the ability to take biological form, albeit only when they had prey. Baba Yaga came with tracking magic that allowed them to find their prey anywhere and in any dimension.

Tetra’s goosebumps got worse.

Niamh turned to her notebook and jotted down another bullet point, adding to a long list in her sharp handwriting.

Kronos: original

Apophis: biological form

Fenrir: almost invincible

Baba Yaga: tracking

Medb of Connacht: soul separation

Tetra drifted nearer, hoping she’d turn the notebook’s page. Why was this drow so interested in the Wild Hunt?

Niamh returned to the book, and Tetra read the next paragraph alongside her.

The Wild Hunt has appeared and disappeared throughout history for thousands of years. They would activate only when a practitioner of dark magic gave them the magical signature of their next target. Most recently, Mordred commanded the Wild Hunt to find and kill Queen Julia Artura Pendragon.

“May the sun scorch her flesh from her bones!” Niamh hissed.

Tetra tensed. Go on, she silently urged the drow. Give yourself away. I’m here, listening.

That proved to be the Wild Hunt’s downfall. As the incarnation of Luna, Queen Julia wielded lunar power beyond anything the world had seen before. Her power did what had never been done: it transformed the spirits of the Wild Hunt into the paranormals they had been before. At the Battle of New Camelot, Queen Julia lured the entirety of the Wild Hunt into the prison realm, sacrificing herself to protect her people. The magic eaters native to the realm consumed and destroyed the Hunters. Queen Julia survived because her adopted human mother, Rosa Hernandez, could walk through the realm unharmed and save her daughter.

Today, only the transformed Hunters remain in OPMA custody, including Kronos, Fenrir, Baba Yaga, and Hitler. The Wild Hunt as we knew it was exterminated, and Queen Julia destroyed the only book detailing the ritual to create new Hunters.

Niamh let out a snarl and flung the book across the room. Tetra jumped when the book slammed into the wall so hard the spine split. Pages rained across the floor.

Niamh snarled as she turned a page in the notebook.

Tetra’s heart thudded so hard she feared the drow could hear it. She leaned closer to read, and her stomach plummeted.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Ritual elements:

Greed, pride, malice, selfishness central

Desire vital!

Shadow magic—research writings of Medb of Connacht

Niamh angrily circled the final line several times, almost pushing the cheap ballpoint pen through the paper.

Tetra’s heart leaped in her chest. Not only was drow magic integral to creating the Wild Hunt, but Niamh was researching it. Did she want to turn someone into a Hunter and revive the Wild Hunt?

The thought made her shudder—a big mistake. Invisibility dust trickled from her shoulders. She gathered more quickly, but not fast enough. Niamh raised her head and focused on her lamp’s shiny metal stand, spotting the flash of movement in the reflection.

Tetra jumped, and Niamh’s shadow blade just missed her. The drow sprang from her chair and swung at Tetra, a sword made of darkness forming in her hand as she rose. Its blade clipped Tetra’s black shirt, and the fabric ripped.

More dust fell from her body as she leaped aside to avoid the second strike. Niamh’s eyes narrowed, and she grinned, baring pointed gray teeth.

“Come out and play, little faerie,” she hissed.

Tetra shook herself. Dust fell from her, and she raised her balled fists, caustic dust gleaming between her fingers. “I’m not so little.”

“Tetra, get out of there!” Liam cried.

Tetra glanced at the window. Niamh read her intention and moved with shocking agility for someone whose face was patterned with wrinkles. Shadow sword raised, she crouched before the window, blocking Tetra’s exit.

“The OPMA sent you,” she hissed. “It was you the other night too, breaking in and trying to spy on me.”

“The OPMA?” Tetra snorted. “That bunch of idiots is far too law-abiding.” She smirked. “It’s all me, bitch.”

Niamh’s face tightened. “What do you want?”

“Simple.” Tetra clenched her fists. “To stop you.”

She flung faerie dust at Niamh’s face, the bone-melting kind, but the drow dodged. A blast of floating dust pushed Tetra out of the way when Niamh slashed toward her. Tetra landed clumsily against one of the shelves, and a box tumbled to the ground, disgorging a shower of garlic bulbs.

“Naughty, naughty,” Tetra sang, jumping aside to avoid another swipe from Niamh.

Niamh’s eyes narrowed. Too late, Tetra realized that the drow had focused on the shadows behind her. The shadows slammed into her like they were physical, propelling her toward Niamh. She filled her hands with caustic dust, but it trickled harmlessly through the shadow.

Light! Tetra thought as she sped toward Niamh’s upraised blade. She switched to floating dust, and the gold glow blew a hole through the shadow behind her, giving her space to twist and escape. Niamh’s shadow blade slashed Tetra’s hip instead of her belly. Pain scorched her skin, but she couldn’t slow down. More shadows lumbered toward her, half-formed and horrible, too profuse for Tetra to blow them all apart with floating dust. The blasts landed all over the room, causing chaos as boxes floated off their shelves and crashed to the floor when the dust decayed.

Tetra angled toward the window. Niamh grunted with effort, and a shadow peeled off the wall and lunged between Tetra and her target.

The door. Tetra could flee down the hall and maybe find another window from which to escape. She feinted toward the window, then lunged for the door. Darkness snaked before her like a whip. She tried to jump over it, and it wrapped around her ankles like tentacles. Only a blast of floating dust kept Tetra from knocking herself senseless on the floor, but her palms met the stone with a jarring impact. She rolled onto her back as Niamh landed on her, straddling her, shadow blade brushing Tetra’s skin.

“Tell me who sent you!” the drow thundered.

Tetra met her eyes. “Okay, but would you like to be disemboweled before or after?”

She pressed her fist closer to Niamh’s belly, and her caustic dust melted the drow’s clothes. Pain made Niamh’s eyes widen as the dust tickled her skin, as light as a sunburn—for now.

Niamh hissed. “I’ll slit your throat before you can move.”

“Wanna bet your life on that?” Tetra asked.

The drow gritted her teeth. “Who do you work for?”

“Society. The good of all creatures.”

Niamh’s eyes narrowed. “You take me for a fool, but you have no proof.”

“Pretty sure I can make a memory orb of what I’ve seen tonight,” Tetra retorted.

“Assuming you escape.” A muscle tightened in Niamh’s jaw.

Tetra moved her fist a fraction of an inch, and Niamh flinched. “Assuming you do.”

Niamh snarled.

“I have proof you’ve got garlic up here,” Tetra told her, “and probably silver, too. Both are illegal.”

“Only under Eternity Law. This is a drow embassy.” Niamh scoffed. “You aren’t OPMA if you don’t know that. Who sent you?”

“Somebody who’d prefer not to see the Wild Hunt running loose in the world like you do,” Tetra countered.

“You assume I want that simply because I am researching the Wild Hunt? Perhaps I want to prevent others from engaging in the ritual. Perhaps I, too, work for the good of all paras.” Niamh sneered.

Tetra met the drow’s eyes. “You’re smart, but make no mistake, bitch. I know what you’re up to.”

Niamh glared. “Your defiance is tiresome.”

Tetra smirked. “Gee, thanks.”

“No more games,” Niamh snarled. She pressed the shadow blade’s edge down, and a hot drop of blood coursed over Tetra’s skin. “Tell me who sent you!”

“Never,” Tetra barked.

Niamh searched her face, then straightened slightly. Tetra kept the caustic dust close to the smoking hole in the drow’s dress, but the shadow blade’s pressure lightened on her throat.

“You do not fear death,” Niamh remarked.

“I fear death,” Tetra growled, “but I don’t fear you.”

Danger flashed in Niamh’s white eyes. “You should, and you will learn to. But perhaps something else will motivate you to give me the name of the para who sent you.” She raised her chin. “The spell on you—the one that took away your wings. It reeks of lunar magic. Is it vassalship?”

“I’m not interested in chitchat. Let me go, or tell me what you want with the Wild Hunt,” Tetra snarled.

Niamh studied her. “I can break it.”

Tetra froze.

“That’s right, little faerie.” Niamh’s smile curved like a scythe. “The curse the Lunar Fae placed upon you can be broken. I can do that. You could return to your true form and be free again, no longer required to serve anyone or anything, as a faerie should be. All I ask is that you tell me who sent you.”

“Liar,” Tetra hissed.

Niamh shook her head. “I am many things, faerie, but not a liar. I give you my word on my honor as a drow.”

Tetra sensed that Niamh meant it, and the prickle of magic on her skin told her the drow could break the spell. Several seconds passed in silence except for the soft hissing of caustic faerie dust dripping on Tetra’s shirt and trickling harmlessly over her skin.

“Let me break the spell, and together, we will avenge the paras who placed you in such cruel bondage,” Niamh hissed.

Tetra made up her mind. “No, thanks. It’s cool.”

Niamh’s eyes narrowed. “What?”

“I don’t want the vassalship broken. My liege is chill. I like helping her, I like my life, and let’s be honest. After sending an assassin to kill my sister, I deserve it.” Tetra shrugged.

“But you are magically compelled to carry out your liege’s orders,” Niamh protested.

“It’s okay. She doesn’t abuse that power.” Tetra grinned at the drow’s expression. “I’m cool with spending the next twelve and a half years learning to be a decent para.”

Niamh spluttered. “But…but…”

The shadow blade wavered. Tetra punched, fist and caustic dust slamming into Niamh’s abdomen. The drow fell back with a shriek, and Tetra rolled aside as the shadow blade struck. It plunged into the floor, cleaving a smoking gap in the stone, but Tetra was free.

Doubled over and screeching in pain, Niamh tried to get to her feet. Tetra was quicker. She bolted for the window, and a shadow knife shattered the glass above her head as she reached it. Tetra yanked it open. The two-story drop hung, dizzying, below her, but she didn’t have time to hesitate.

“Guards!” Niamh screamed. “Guards!”

Tetra jumped. Air whistled past her face, a thrilling approximation of flight for an instant as the ground rushed up to meet her. Her floating dust could only do so much. She hit the grass hard enough to rattle her teeth and rolled. The world spun as she stumbled to her feet.

“There!” Niamh shrieked.

The thuds of running feet came from the mansion’s opposite corner. Tetra didn’t waste time looking for the guards. She sprinted for the fence, groping in her backpack for the slender steel hook on its spool of delicate Gleipnir steel.

Tetra was in the tree when the shadow horses reached the fence. She showered herself with invisibility dust as she scrambled to the ground. No pursuit followed her across the road and into the field, where Genevieve waited, dark and silent.

Tetra didn’t slow down until she was safe in the car. Then she clutched the wheel in trembling hands, wheezing with effort.

Her phone’s buzz made her jump. She fumbled it from her pocket.

“Tetra! Are you okay? What happened?” Liam shrieked. “Half the agency is on its way to your location! Hold on!”

“Liam, stop them!” Tetra barked. “I’m in Genevieve. I’m fine.”

“Oh.” Liam hesitated. “Okay. I’m texting Qenzi. She’ll stop the agency. Are you really okay?”

“Fine,” Tetra growled.

“What happened to your earpiece?” Liam asked.

Tetra touched her ear. “I had a little struggle with Niamh. It must have fallen out.” A good thing, she reflected, or Liam would have heard her conversation with the drow.

Genevieve quietly trundled out of the field. Tetra leaned back in her seat, breathing hard, and listened to Liam’s panicked scolding.

They really should tell him about the paranormal world, she thought.

Val felt like she should have dressed up.

She hugged the lunar book to her chest, regretting her choice of baggy sweatpants and a black T-shirt that read tell your dog i said hi. The backyard’s deep grass crunched between her toes, thick and soothing. Shadow silently paced by her side. Though the city lights marred the night sky, a distant scattering of stars peered through the pale glow from streetlights, and a crescent moon hung among them like a crooked smile.

Maybe for the first time, Val stared at the moon and contemplated the depth of the magic it symbolized. “Magic” seemed too small a concept to describe something so magnificent. Lunar magic made her iron and earth power seem like clumsy trickery. This was a power that could command tides and create dimensions. It was beyond anything she could imagine doing.

She walked to the middle of the lawn and knelt, her reverence real despite her outfit. “Luna,” she prayed softly, “show me your will. I’m here.”

Val opened the book and laid it on the lawn. She wondered if the moonlight was too dim and diluted to have any effect. Why hadn’t she brought the book to Avalon with its clear skies?

Then something stirred on the page, but it was more than ink. Moonlight pooled on the paper like quicksilver and flowed into the shapes of runes. Val held her breath, staring in awe as the runes spread across the page. Her amulet thrummed, its pulses slow and warm, recognizing the power that lay before her.

Shadow lay motionless by her side, nose on his paws. His dark eyes never left the pages. Val laid a hand on his back to steady herself.

She made out the runes for creature, blood, war, and another she associated with wards. It could be translated as protect or guard, but neither word encapsulated the defense the rune stood for.

“The app,” Val whispered. She felt stupid pulling out her phone at a moment like this, but her desire to understand overruled her embarrassment. She opened the app and pointed it at the book. Shadow pricked his ears as a mechanized feminine voice with a thick English accent read the words out loud.

“These are the words of the seer,” the translator read. “The little prince named after the bear. Babe sleeping in the queen’s arms. An heir, a hope, a future for the fae. The eternity king dreams. Small pale toes on a marble floor, stumbling. Laughter beneath the twin towers.”

“The bear?” Val looked at Shadow. “Maybe it’s got something to do with the Warriors of the Red Bear.”

“Behold! A bright blade, a great stone! Strength will not decide. The mighty one reduced to granite. Waiting, waiting. The king will be revealed. The eternity king approaches. Steel glides from stone, sweatless. There can be no question,” the translator continued.

“That sounds like Arthur drawing the sword from the stone,” Val whispered. “It said these were words of the seer, right? These are prophecies.” She frowned. “How’s that supposed to help us?”

A breeze rose from nowhere. Goosebumps tingled on Val’s skin as the gust played across the lawn and rippled through her baggy clothes, combing swathes of Shadow’s thick fur. She thought she heard distant laughter in the breeze’s edge as it grasped her headwrap, tugging playfully, caressing the places where her bare scalp showed. Shadow’s tail wagged.

The breeze dipped and found the book. Val gasped as the pages rose. She wanted to grab the book and protect it, but the pages turned as smoothly as though a gentle hand ruffled them. The breeze rushed through the pages and abruptly disappeared. The air was still once more.

Her heart thumped in time with her amulet. She leaned over the book, hands shaking on her phone, as the moonlight spilled into the shape of runes on the new page.

“Moonlight on a new world. First fire kisses iron’s mouth. Side by side. Tide and steel. Before cities, before castles,” the translator read.

Val glanced at Shadow. “This making sense to you?”

“Anvil’s song. Forge’s glow. The tall smith hammers out her own legend. Father of time stirs. Only the soul of the red bear lights the path to victory,” the translator finished.

The runes faded. Val raised her head as a cloud crept over the moon.

“I guess that’s it,” she murmured.

She lowered the phone and stared at the blank book but didn’t move until her knees ached.

“What’s that mean, Shadow?” she whispered, stroking his ears. “Those first prophecies were about King Arthur. What was that new world stuff? It sounded like a link between Iron Dwarves and Lunar Fae from long ago. ‘Before cities, before castles.’”

Shadow gazed at her with liquid eyes.

“I don’t know our history that far back,” Val admitted. “Maybe no one does. I was hoping this would give us answers about you. Instead, it’s left me with questions about my people.”

Shadow whined.

“I know, buddy. There’s that stuff about the red bear again.” Val tilted her head. “Are you the red bear?”

Shadow wagged his tail.

“I know. You’re a dog, not a bear.” Val rumpled his ears. “Right?”

She looked at the moon, clouds shrouding its light, and questions built up inside her. “Father of time.” Was that Kronos? What about the “tall smith?” The thought flashed across her mind that it could be her, but she blushed at her presumptuousness.

“You’re only a dog,” she whispered, gazing at the moon. “I’m only a dwarf. Right?”

Bianca silently listened to Tetra’s report, tapping her glittery red fingernails together as she leaned on the desk. The succubus had a new piercing: a ruby stud near the tip of her left horn. Papers, miscellaneous magical objects, and letters in bright red envelopes covered her desk.

“So?” Tetra prompted when a few seconds’ silence followed the end of her story. “Should I go and have a memory orb made? I’ve never done it. I’ve heard it tickles.”

Bianca sighed. “It won’t do us any good even if you do, Tetra, and you’ll probably get in trouble.”

“Come on!” Tetra protested. “You’re telling me I went there for nothing?” She pointed at the scrape on her neck where Niamh’s shadow blade had made itself known. “I got this in the service of the Eternity Throne.”

For once, Bianca didn’t smile. “I’m not saying that. You didn’t give us actionable evidence, but you got the information we need.”

“You mean that bitch was right that we have nothing on her?” Tetra demanded.

Bianca nodded. “I’m afraid so. There’s nothing wrong with doing research on the Wild Hunt. She could argue that she’s researching the ritual to stop anyone from doing it again. Besides, it didn’t seem like she’d found anything concrete.”

“Maybe she never will.” Tetra shrugged. “The queen destroyed the only book on the ritual, right?”

“She did. It was badass.” Bianca finally cracked a smile. “Still, you’ve shown us that Niamh is a major cause for concern. She must have power beyond anything we’ve seen since Mordred.”

“Why?” Tetra asked.

Bianca met her gaze. “Because she offered to break the vassalship spell.”

Tetra shrugged. “I told you I didn’t want anything to do with that shit.”

“Yes, but the fact she offered tells us she has incredible power. Vassalship is a Lunar Fae spell. Not many paras can stand against that kind of magic.” Bianca gritted her teeth. “You and I both know Niamh is into dark magic. Now we have to prove it.”

“Do I get to spy on her again?” Tetra eagerly asked.

“No.” Bianca smirked. “Not yet, anyway. What she told you is enough that Julie will bend her rigorous policies on respecting paras’ privacy. If Niamh represents a dark magic threat, Julie will authorize an OPMA surveillance op on her.”

“Your spies will follow her around,” Tetra translated.

Bianca nodded. “Precisely. Thanks, Tetra. I appreciate your help.”

“Anything for the good of the realm.” Tetra bounced to her feet and strode to the door. She hesitated on the threshold. “Hey, Bianca?”

The succubus looked up. “Yeah?”

Tetra rubbed the back of her neck. “You won’t mention the vassalship thing to Val, right?”

Bianca smirked. “Hey, not my biz.”

“Cool. Thanks.” Blushing, Tetra hurried into the hall and made a beeline for the parking garage, Genevieve, and home.

Liam leaned against the wall in his apartment, gazing through the small bedroom window. It offered a view he usually found depressing: the strip of street behind his apartment building containing a couple of abandoned buildings, another janky apartment building like his, and a cluster of stores on the corner. There was a bodega, a Korean takeout place, and a liquor store.

Liam stared at the liquor store for far too long. His hands still quivered from Tetra’s mission, and he’d barely slept last night. The gut-pounding fear of being unable to contact her, listening to thuds and yells through her earpiece before it went to static, was as raw and fresh as though he were still in the moment.

It would be so simple to find a release. Numbing relaxation could wash through him with a single sip.

He turned away from the window with an effort like wrenching off a limb and strode into his living room. After switching on the lights, he watered the plants, then looked for an interesting documentary on TV. Days off were the hardest.

Liam sagged onto the couch, and his gaze rested on the tickets on the coffee table. He stared at them. He’d been trying to pluck up the courage for days.

“You’re overcoming an addiction,” he told himself out loud. “You can do this, too.”

With shaking hands, Liam picked up his phone. He snapped a picture of the tickets and sent them to a number on his contact list: Kenzie (Agency).

Hey, you busy this afternoon? :)

He sent the text before he could dissect every word. An agonizing few minutes followed before she responded.

You got tickets to the virtual reality gaming center?!

Yeah. Want to come?

Three dots bounced on his screen for a long time as Qenzi typed her response. A few seconds after he decided she’d reject him, the text came.

Okay. Meet you there at five?

A smile spread over Liam’s face like a warm glow, and his hands were steady when he sent a thumbs-up.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Qenzi waited in front of the gaming center in Brooklyn Heights. Its neon lights pulsed in the summer afternoon, unable to conquer the golden glow of sunshine on the well-kept street. The troll wore leggings and an uncomplicated top, her attire more casual than usual, and Liam’s heart thumped as he parked his car and strode toward her. Why the wardrobe change? Was she more comfortable with him, or had she given up on him as a romantic prospect?

Her smile was nervous, and a flush crept beneath her olive skin. “Hey. I thought I’d dress for comfort. I’ve heard VR gaming can get physical.”

The knot in Liam’s belly relaxed. “You’ve never been?”

“No,” Qenzi admitted.

“I’m honored, then.” Liam beamed. “I’d love to be the first to introduce you to gaming like you’ve never seen it before.”

Qenzi laughed. “You know it well?”

“I do.” Liam offered her his arm like an idiot.

To his relief, she took it. “Lead the way, then.”

He guided her into the arcade, where muffled music pulsed from different rooms. The tattooed guy behind the counter handed them each a headset and motion controllers, then guided them into a bare room with padded partitions separating the spaces like a shooting range.

“What’s this one?” Qenzi asked, inspecting her motion controllers.

“An archery game,” Liam explained. “It’s pretty cool. We compete against each other, but don’t worry. It’s your first time. I won’t hold it against you.” He winked.

Qenzi snickered as she adjusted the headset. “We’ll see about that.”

Liam did the same, but instead of the colorless room, he saw a grassy meadow. A row of medieval-style dummies stood in front of him. He looked to his left and spotted a barrel holding a bow and quiver. On his right, a generic white female avatar looked around: Kenzie.

“Hi!” Liam waved.

Qenzi laughed and waved back. “This is qu…quite cool,” she told him.

He didn’t know why he felt she wanted to say “quaint.” This was state-of-the-art virtual reality gaming. Maybe she didn’t understand the word’s meaning.

“Okay, extend one motion controller to your bow to take it,” he instructed.

He lifted the pixelated bow and selected an arrow. His motion controllers bumped with a metallic click that didn’t match his visual of wood and grass.

“Ever shot a real bow and arrow?” he asked.

Qenzi hesitated. “You could say that.”

“It’s similar. Put your arrow on the string, pull back, and let go.” Liam demonstrated following the green guidelines the game provided. His arrow arced through the nonexistent air and landed in the target’s chest with a prerecorded slap. “Don’t worry if you miss the target the first few times. It can be⁠—”

Kenzie’s arrow zipped past him and landed in the dummy’s head.

“Oh.” Liam cleared his throat. “Well done.”

Qenzi’s avatar was expressionless, but Liam heard the smile in her voice. “I won’t hold it against you,” she teased.

She schooled him at the archery game, so much so that Liam suggested an alien-shooting co-op for their next one. They moved to a larger room with plenty of open space and spent an hour blasting CGI aliens to goopy green smithereens. The last level flitted by, and faster than Liam had ever played, he faced the final boss: a nasty thing with tentacles and plenty of eyes.

“Its weak point is its belly,” he yelled to Qenzi, clutching his virtual reality gun.

“I’ll distract it,” Qenzi suggested. “You’ve got the sniper rifle. You shoot it.”

She ran to the left, her avatar an armored hulk in the game, and directed a staccato blast of machine-gun fire at the monster’s head. It lumbered to face her. Liam shot a few smaller aliens and rolled behind the cover of a rock. He leaned on it, steadying his rifle, and trained it on the monster’s belly. Qenzi dodged its tentacles, her sneakers’ squeak on the floor echoing through the game’s audio, and reloaded her gun as she tossed a grenade at its mouth.

The grenade blew up with a stylized explosion, and the alien reared. Liam pulled the trigger. His shot blew a red hole in the alien’s belly, and it collapsed. Cheerful music and flashing signs announced the end of the level and a record high score for the arcade.

“Whoa!” Liam pulled off his headset. “You kicked ass, Kenzie!”

She did the same, laughing and glowing. “I had help.” Her friendly elbow to his ribs made joy blossom in his chest.

Liam tried to formulate what he felt. They’d worked together like extensions of one another. Each time he needed backup, she was right there. When he thought of something, she voiced it first. He didn’t know how to say it without sounding like a creep, so what came out was, “Shall we grab dinner?”

Qenzi didn’t hesitate. “Sure.” She smoothed her sweaty hair. “Somewhere less fancy this time?”

Liam grinned. “Deal.”

They took Liam’s car to the nearest drive-thru and ended up on a bench in Brooklyn Bridge Park, eating greasy takeout and slurping cheap sodas as the Manhattan skyline painted itself on the East River. Games featured prominently in their easy chatter.

“I mean, you kicked ass in all of them,” Liam told her, dipping a French fry in ketchup, “but the alien one was the most impressive. I could swear you’d been in battle before.”

“In my family? Not likely.” Qenzi snorted, then paused. “If people went into battle, they wouldn’t have let me go.”

“Pacifists?” Liam asked.

Qenzi shook her head. “Sexists.”

Liam grimaced. “Ah.”

“I had four brothers growing up, two older and two younger. That made me basically invisible.” Qenzi bit into her burger.

“I’m sorry.” Liam sighed. “That’s so wrong.”

“Males dominated the line of work I wanted to go into back then. It all changed while I was an intern at the agency. Our current department leader is a woman who worked hard and saved many lives to make that happen.” Qenzi sucked ketchup from her fingers, then giggled. “Sorry.”

“Not at all.” Liam followed suit.

She laughed, the sound musical. “My brothers all left the agency once I outranked them.”

“Serves them right,” Liam told her with feeling.

Qenzi shook her head, smiling. “Do you have siblings?”

Liam’s appetite vanished. He chewed his French fry slowly, though it tasted like ash. “I did.”

Qenzi hesitated. “Oh.”

“A younger sister.” Liam cleared his throat. “Sarah Jane. She died in a car crash a few years ago.”

“Liam, I’m so sorry.” Qenzi laid a hand over his.

This time, her touch didn’t make his skin prickle, nor could it lighten the weight in his chest. But he turned his hand over and held hers, and neither of them moved or spoke for several minutes, content to sit together in silence.

Val’s phone buzzed as Genevieve turned the corner into the Continental Army Plaza. She glanced quickly at the screen in its holder, and her heart flipped.

One new message from Dr. Niall Wynthorn.

“Ooooh!” Tetra grabbed Val’s phone. “He’s texting you!”

“Tetra!” Val’s cheeks burned. She tried to grab the phone, but the faerie ducked.

“Ooh, he likes you!” she crowed.

“What?” Val squawked. “He said that?”

“No. He says he hasn’t gotten Shadow’s blood results back yet. There’s a backlog at the lab. Something about a parvovirus outbreak in the Fernwood werewolves. He put a smiley face at the end,” Tetra added encouragingly.

“Oh.” Val scowled.

Tetra smirked. “You want him to like you.”

Shadow growled.

“No!” Val almost ordered Tetra to give her the phone but stopped herself at the last moment. “I’d like you to hand me my phone, please.”

Tetra heard the edge in her voice and passed the phone to Val. “You should ask him out. Stop screwing around and ask him.”

“Says the person who won’t tell me who she’s texting but giggles at her phone every time she looks at it,” Val grumbled.

Tetra flushed. “I don’t do that.”

“Sure you don’t.” Val steered Genevieve into her parking space. “C’mon, Tetra. You can tell me, you know.”

“I would.” Tetra got out. “If there was anything to…oh!”

Her gasp made Val spring from the car, dagger in hand, searching for danger. Tetra stood with her hands over her mouth, staring at the Iron Fist’s façade. Shadow growled from the back seat.

Shattered glass sprinkled the sidewalk. Jagged shards clung to a front window frame. An oversized poster stretched over the front door, held in place with extravagant splashes of glue trailing like blood splatter over the wood, and the image made Val’s stomach churn. Blackened corpses sprawled in rubble, so charred she couldn’t make out their species, except that they were humanoid. The tallest one’s stiff arms still clutched the shoulders of the other two, one of which was so tragically small that bile rose in Val’s throat.

Someone had painted angry words in red capitals across the poster, failing to obscure the horrors of protruding bone and teeth exposed when scorched flesh peeled back.

IF YOU SUPPORT THE QUEEN, YOU ARE COMPLICIT!

“Who were those paras?” Val whispered.

Shocking Val, tears shimmered in Tetra’s eyes. She stepped forward, her hand extended toward the image, and her trembling fingertips touched the paper. “Dragonwall.”

“Dragonwall?” The name rang a bell.

“A village in the heart of Fernwood. I’d never been there, but it was one of the queen’s favorite spots. She helped reestablish it after the Battle of Fernwood Deep. Her newest allies, dragons, protected the village from Mordred’s forces there.” Tetra swallowed.

“Oh. Now I remember seeing it on the news.” Val bit her lip. “The Wild Hunt destroyed this place.”

“Yes. They did it to get to their ultimate prey, the queen.” Tetra rapidly blinked. “Those paras were innocent. Collateral damage.”

Val gritted her teeth. “Shit. This is what the pro-death activists are afraid of if the Wild Hunt escapes again.”

“They have a right to be.” Tetra raised her head. “No one survived, Val. Not even the OPMA garrison protecting the village. This is what the Wild Hunt does.”

Val rested a hand on Tetra’s shoulder. “You did more than see this on the news, didn’t you?”

Tetra stiffened.

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Val murmured.

Tetra cleared her throat. “I had another sister. A real sister. Biological, or whatever you want to call it.” She stopped and looked away.

“She was at Dragonwall when—” Val began.

“Screw these feelings.” Tetra pushed Val’s hand off her shoulder. “Where’s the asshole who did this? I’ll melt his face for him. Pro-death dipshits.” Caustic faerie dust sparkled between her fingers.

“You’re not pro-death?” Val raised her eyebrows. “Even after⁠—”

“Of course not, you idiot,” Tetra snapped. “If Eternity Law had a death penalty, I’d be a corpse.”

“Oh.” Val paused. “Good point.”

“Let’s find these guys. Shadow, smell them out!” Tetra ordered.

Shadow bayed from the back seat like he wanted to comply. Genevieve opened the door and tilted the seat, and he bounded across the sidewalk, hackles raised and limbs stiff.

“Wait, wait.” Val raised her hands. “Chill, everybody.”

“Call the OPMA. Tell them we’re the victims of a hate crime,” Tetra barked.

“Easy, Tetra. We’re trying to keep the Iron Fist neutral, remember?” Val frowned. “Having the OPMA swarming over the place won’t do us any good in that department.”

“Clearly, some paras don’t think we’re neutral.” Tetra pointed at the poster.

“We’ve always been open about our loyalty to the queen, but we’re ambiguous on the Wild Hunt issue. I’ll call Bianca and tell her what happened, but I don’t want a ton of soldiers here.” Val snapped pictures of the scene, then used her dagger to slice the poster off and unlocked the door. “We can get this cleaned up in no time. Let’s hurry before it spooks the humans.”

“We should call Enzo, too,” Tetra suggested.

“Good idea. You call him. I’ll call Bianca.” Val strode into the Iron Fist, boots crunching on broken glass, and clamped her phone to her ear with one shoulder as she headed for the broom closet.

Bianca answered on the second ring. “Heyyyy, girlfriend! How’s it going with your willing vassal?”

“What?” Val was confused.

“Forget I said anything. How can I help?” Bianca chirped.

Val sighed. “We’ve had trouble at the Fist.”

“Trouble the Guardian of the Iron Fist couldn’t handle? Must be quite something. I’ll send Raven over,” Bianca told her.

“No! Wait. Sorry. I don’t really want an unnecessary OPMA presence.” Val grimaced. “We’re working on being neutral in this Wild Hunt thing.”

“That’s fair,” Bianca acknowledged.

“I’m only calling to let you know that other para-owned businesses in the area might be targets. I’ll send you pics of the vandalism,” Val offered. “Seems the pro-death radicals don’t like our stance.”

“Yeah, you’re not the first,” Bianca told her. “I’m afraid other businesses worldwide have been vandalized or threatened. Brooklyn is a hotspot because of NYC’s large paranormal presence.”

“Crap,” Val muttered.

“The protestors have gotten worse, too. Both sides of the debate are getting violent. Someone defaced Chester’s statue in New Camelot. Can you believe that?” Rage trembled in Bianca’s voice. “Julie lit the curtains on fire when she heard. Those were pro-imprisonment paras, too. Well, they got a taste of prison for vandalism. We allow the protests until they start hurting each other or destroying shit. Then we have no choice but to arrest them.”

“What can I do?” Val asked.

Bianca sighed. “Keep doing what you’re doing. The queen will be in touch if she has a mission.”

Val hung up and concentrated on sweeping up the broken glass, courtesy of the half-brick on the floorboards.

“Enzo’s coming.” Tetra walked in, her hands full of torn paper. “He says not to worry about the window. His glass guy will replace it in the morning, and Enzo will board it up for tonight.”

“Not a great image to project to our customers, but it’s the best we can do.” Val scooped up broken glass and tossed it in the garbage. “I’ll unpack the dishwasher while you get the glue off the doors.”

“Caustic dust should do the trick.” Tetra bounced away before Val could stop her.

Val hoped the door would survive Tetra’s ministrations. Shadow paced the bar, unsettled, hackles half risen as a growl rumbled in his chest.

“It’ll be okay, boy.” Val opened the dishwasher. “I hope.”

She unpacked the glasses, rubbing each to a fine shine before placing them atop the dishwasher. Where would the Wild Hunt debate end? Was it possible that Niamh could re-engineer the ritual that created Hunters? The Dragonwall corpses were vivid in her mind.

A jolt ran through her amulet, hot and electric. Val jumped and almost dropped a glass.

“Dame Eiravel Stonehold.”

The words floated out of nowhere, softly spoken in a thick Greek accent. Val’s head snapped up. Was she hearing things? She looked over her shoulder, but nobody was in the bar except Tetra.

Shadow growled. The big dog stood behind her, head lowered, eyes trained on something above him.

“Dame Eiravel,” the disembodied voice repeated.

Val followed Shadow’s gaze and saw a reflection in the nearest polished glass—a hooded figure. She spun, but there was nothing behind her.

“Are you unfamiliar with scrying?” the figure demanded.

Val whirled and glared into the glass. She could see little except a white hood casting deep shadows, hiding the face beneath but for the pale curve of a clean-shaven chin.

“Scrying,” Val muttered. “Is that what this is? Who are you? What do you want?”

The hood turned left and right as though the paranormal glanced over his shoulders.

“I know one can scry with any two reflective surfaces, but if you wanted to talk to me, you could have used my company number and video-called. What do you want?” Val repeated. “Who are you?”

“One for whom ordinary networks are far too traceable,” the person told her.

Val sighed. “Look, dude, this has been a shitty evening so far. If you want something, say so. If you’re here to intimidate me or be cryptic, I don’t have the energy.” She spread her hands. “In short, spit it out or fuck off.”

The person hesitated.

“Fine.” Val reached for the glass.

“I am a lieutenant of Diana, the princess of the Sylthana Elves,” the person blurted.

Val stopped.

The hood lowered. “I fought you on the banks of the Hudson. You cast me into the river with my chimera.”

Val raised her chin. Nobody else knew the details of that fight. “Okay. You have my attention. What do you want?” She moved her hand toward her dagger, glancing at Tetra. Where was this asshole? How could she warn Tetra without spooking him?

The person uttered the one word she wasn’t expecting. “Peace.”

Val raised her eyebrows. “Your Diana has a funny way of showing it.”

“Diana once conformed to the old and honorable ways of Sylthana Elves,” the man told her. “Ways that were an asset to the paranormal world for thousands of years when elves sat upon the Eternity Throne.”

“Yeah, well, I’ve chosen my queen,” Val snapped.

“Dame Eiravel, hear me out,” the man pleaded. “I will not pledge allegiance to a Lunar Fae monarch, but developments in Diana’s organization of late...” He hesitated. “They are violent. They concern me.”

“Report them to the OPMA,” Val suggested.

The elf scoffed. “The OPMA belongs to the Lunar Fae, but you serve only your own idea of justice. I would speak to you.”

Val thought of discreetly texting Bianca while she spoke to the elf, but what good would it do? Scrying wasn’t traceable. Besides, if the hooded elf truly wanted to talk, she should listen.

“Who are you?” she asked.

The man hesitated. “Call me Riptide.”

It wasn’t his real name, but she didn’t push it. “Okay. Talk, then. I’m listening.”

“Not like this. We must meet,” Riptide told her.

Val scoffed. “You think it’s that easy to lure me into a trap, do you?”

“You choose the location. Bring as much backup as you please. I assure you, my intentions are peaceful.” Riptide paused. “Diana...doesn’t know I’m speaking to you. If she knew, it would be the end of me. However, I fear it will cost many innocent lives if I don’t.”

“Who’s that?” Tetra demanded from outside. “Who are you talking to, Val?”

The man withdrew several inches. “Choose!”

“Okay! Jamaica Bay. There’s a wildlife refuge there. We can meet at the end of Broad Channel. It’s isolated,” Val explained. “Does that work?”

“I will be there at midnight tomorrow,” Riptide agreed.

“Wait!” Val cried.

Riptide vanished.

Tetra stomped around the bar. “Val? Who are you talking to?”

Val picked up the glass, but the image was gone. “I don’t know.” She raised her head. “Wanna come on a field trip tomorrow at midnight to meet a rogue elf who might or might not be setting a trap to kill us both?”

“Can we get pizza after?” Tetra asked.

Val threw her hands up. “That’s your question?”

“Yeah. Can we?”

Val snorted. “Sure.”

“Cool. Sounds like fun. Now, please help me put the door back on its hinges. We could use iron magic for that.” Tetra flounced away.

“What did you do to the door?” Val demanded as she followed. Shadow stayed so close that his nose bumped into her leg as she walked.

Genevieve’s headlights illuminated the deserted asphalt as she followed the boulevard into the wildlife refuge. Though it was only half an hour’s drive from Val’s house, the city seemed a long way away. The streetlights’ yellow glow on the road blinded Val, making it feel like the world began and ended between Cross Bay Boulevard’s lines.

“Okay, what’s the plan?” Tetra rubbed her hands. “Agents pop out of the bushes and gut this asshole the moment we see him?”

“Tetra, no.” Val groaned. “I told you, we’re here to listen. Maybe we can persuade him to give us inside information on Diana and her organization. It might help us take the whole thing down instead of only one lieutenant.”

“Okay, so we listen to him, then gut him and drink his blood.” Tetra grinned. “Then we go get pizza.”

“We’re not gutting anyone,” Val snapped. “We’re trying to form an alliance with this guy.”

Tetra sighed. “You dragged me out here to make friends?”

“I hope so. We’ll have to fight our way out if it’s a trap. We’re miles from any agency outposts here, and there’s no direct portal to Jamaica Bay,” Val explained. “We’ll be on our own for a while.”

“I really think I should put them on standby in case this goes sideways,” Liam suggested via the comm.

“No. They don’t know we’re doing this, remember?” Val gritted her teeth. “We’re going rogue.”

“Awesome.” Tetra grinned. “At least we’re breaking the rules while we’re making friends.”

“Does that make you feel better?” Liam sniped. “It doesn’t help me.”

“Don’t get your panties in a wad, Liam,” Tetra scolded.

“Okay!” Val barked through their arguing. “We’re here.”

She pulled over and parked Genevieve at an overgrown trailhead. After she got out of the car, with the lights off, Val’s dwarven vision adjusted to the deep darkness. She kept Shadow’s leash tight as she tilted the seat forward and let him jump out.

“Where is he?” Tetra asked.

“We’ll meet him at the channel.” Val turned to a narrow trail that led through trees and bushes. Shadow strained, trying to sniff everything.

“You didn’t say there’d be hiking,” Tetra whined.

Val ignored her. She drew her dagger and kept it in her hand as she strode down the trail, her boots crunching and crashing through the vegetation. Shadow stayed beside her.

The walk took only a few minutes, but though the distance from the road was short, the thick foliage swallowed the light, making it feel like the middle of the wilderness. Bushes gave way to towering reeds. The trail narrowed to an animal path, then turned to mud. Wild things chirped and sang in the darkness.

Val’s boots squelched. She stopped when heat flooded her amulet. “He’s close by.” Ahead, Broad Channel lay motionless beneath the overcast night.

Tetra sniffed. “I smell elf blood.”

“Don’t say it like that,” Val hissed.

Shadow stood stock-still beside Val, muscles tight, ears pricked. She scanned her surroundings, but even her dwarven vision couldn’t pierce the thick reeds.

“I don’t like this,” Tetra muttered.

“Shhh!” Val strained her ears, listening for footsteps or fire…anything to suggest this was an ambush. Her throbbing amulet told her that Riptide, or something magical, was close. But where?

Shadow’s bark was like an explosion. Val jumped and swung her dagger up in readiness. Tetra yelped as blue fire and brown fur filled Val’s vision. The chimera sprang from the bushes, blue flames licking between the jaws of its goat head. Its lion and snake heads roared and snapped, and a rattle the size of Val’s forearm hissed as its tail lashed its hairy flanks.

“Whoa!” Riptide commanded. Swathed in a white robe, the elf rode the chimera, wrestling with six reins in one hand. “Stop that!”

The chimera lunged. Val raised her dagger, but something in its eyes stopped her. The flames vanished from the goat’s head, and the snake’s mouth closed. The lion’s coarse tongue licked her cheek.

Shadow bayed and jumped, snapping at the heads. Val wrestled him down. “Stop!” she ordered. “Sit!”

“Back! Back up!” Riptide yanked the reins.

Shadow unwillingly sank to his haunches, and the chimera backed away, churning mud under its paws and hooves.

“Okay, cool. Now that we have the petting zoo under control, what’s up?” Tetra jerked her chin. “I’m Tetra. Val says I shouldn’t kill you, so hi.”

“This is my associate.” Val gripped Shadow’s collar tightly. “She’s my backup.”

“This is mine.” Riptide gestured, his robe’s sleeve rippling. “This is not an ambush, you two. Come out of there.”

Two paras in white robes emerged from the rushes. The elves hovered on the sidelines, scimitars drawn, blue fire playing along the edges of the curving blades.

“All right. Now everything is in the open.” Val flexed her fingers on Shadow’s collar. “We’re here to listen, so talk.”

Riptide dismounted from the chimera, which whimpered and wagged its rattling tail. He jerked the reins, and the creature fell silent.

“I will ask you one time.” He raised his head enough that Val saw his glittering eyes but not his features. “Does the OPMA know we’re here?”

Val raised her chin to meet his gaze. “No.”

“We can’t trust her,” another elf growled. “We still have time to flee.”

Riptide silenced him with a curt wave.

“That one. It’s a faerie,” the other elf snapped. “What are you thinking, consorting with dwarves and faeries?”

“Silence!” Riptide thundered.

The elves shut up, but the flames on their swords grew. Val tensed as Riptide handed his chimera’s reins to one of the defiant elves and stepped forward. She didn’t relax her grip on her dagger. Shadow’s growl got louder.

“If you or your associate make a move to harm any of us,” Riptide growled, “your precious lunar queen will not be able to save you.”

Val sneered. “Much less your disgraced so-called princess.”

A strangled sound came from one of the other elves. Shadow drew his lips back, exposing long white fangs.

“Careful,” Riptide hissed. “Diana is my liege.”

“Sad,” Tetra commented.

Riptide reached for his scimitar.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

“Okay, okay.” Val kept her tone even. “Did we come here to talk or measure dicks?”

Riptide’s hand stopped.

“You said you want peace.” Val lowered her dagger. “Prove it.”

Riptide huffed and stepped back, giving Val space, then gestured at his backup. Reluctantly, they sheathed their blades. Val did the same.

“Shadow, quiet,” Val snapped.

The big dog’s growl switched off and he lay down. She glanced sidelong at Tetra, who pushed her hands into her pockets. Smoke rose from the fabric.

“I do want peace.” Riptide sounded tired.

“We have peace,” Val reminded him.

“Not if your queen acts like every other Lunar Fae on the Eternity Throne. We experienced the paranormal world’s worst wars when Pendragons ruled,” Riptide countered. “You call the reigns of Arthur and Julia the Golden Ages, but Sylthana Elves kept Avalon in quiet obscurity for thousands of years without major conflicts.”

“Yeah, or equal opportunities or technological progression,” Tetra chipped in.

Val shrugged. “She’s right, but you are entitled to an opinion. Morgan Le Fay’s test and the dragon’s choice will reveal the king or queen who succeeds Julia. Perhaps that will be a Sylthana Elf.”

Riptide sneered. “Julia is almost immortal. It could be thousands of years.”

“Suits me fine. If that’s what you came here to complain about, you chose the wrong para,” Val told him.

Riptide’s shoulders tensed, then sagged.

“No,” he muttered. “No, that’s not why I asked you to come.” He sighed. “I will always fight to see a Sylthana Elf on the Eternity Throne, but I fear Diana’s methods may be...excessive.”

Val nodded. “Tell me about them.”

“I used to believe Diana was driven by a desire to make all worlds a safer and more prosperous place for Sylthana Elves and all paranormals. But as the years pass, I see more bitterness and selfish ambition.” Riptide paused. “She wants the throne at any cost. In the process, I fear for the lives of the innocents who might inadvertently get in her way. I believe the Sylthana Elves should protect those paras.”

“Ha! As if the queen didn’t save us all,” Tetra scoffed.

“Protecting the innocent.” Val smiled. “That’s something we can agree on.”

“Yes!” Riptide’s hood bounced as he nodded. “Diana has little regard for them these days. I fear years of exile have turned her to stone. When she conquers the Lunar Fae, perhaps Lotan can be convinced to take the throne. Yellow-belly though he is, an appropriate circle of advisers could guide him in the right direction.”

Tetra growled but didn’t speak.

“The elves have the same right to freedom of speech and differing political ideas as anyone,” Val told him, “but harming innocents is inexcusable.”

“That we agree on. I fear Diana’s plans will endanger them, yet she remains a key part of our plans to return an elf to the Eternity Throne,” Riptide explained.

“Overthrowing her isn’t an option for you, then,” Val mused.

“Overthrowing? There’s nothing to overthrow. Diana used to be a princess, but now she’s a common criminal,” Tetra muttered.

“Tetra,” Val warned. The faerie fell silent.

“Denying Diana is not an option,” Riptide firmly stated.

“Then what can we do for you?” Val asked.

Riptide snorted. “Short of overthrowing your precious queen? Not much.”

Shadow growled again. “I won’t tolerate that talk in my presence,” Val snarled. “Julia is my queen, the monarch ordained by Luna, and defying her goes against my knightly vows, my theology, and my identity as an Iron Dwarf.”

Riptide raised a hand. “I know this much, Dame Eiravel. No one fights like you do without the weight of faith behind them. I do not ask you to rebel against your queen.”

Val lowered her dagger.

“What I’m looking for,” Riptide continued, “is a kind of safety net.”

Val raised her eyebrows. “For yourself?”

“For the innocents we both care about.” Riptide sighed. “Diana’s quest has endangered them more than once. I have nowhere to turn if I feel that collateral damage is a major risk. For obvious reasons, I will not go to the OPMA. Despite your allegiance, you are a more neutral party.”

Val slowly nodded. “If you feel Diana’s planning something that could hurt innocent paras, you want to ask my team and me to ensure that nothing happens to them. Evacuating villages in the path of the storm.”

“Yes.” Riptide nodded. “That’s exactly right.”

“There’s another solution,” Tetra piped up. “You could quit serving that bitch and protect innocent paras the old-fashioned way—by not supporting people who might hurt them.”

“There are many reasons that is not an option for me,” Riptide barked. “I believe this plan is for the greater good. I do not wish to see ordinary paras suffer in the meantime. That’s why I came to you.”

“We accept,” Val told him.

“What?” Tetra squawked. “We do?”

Val shrugged. “We’re not saying we agree with you and Diana, but preventing the suffering of innocent paras is our goal. If you’re willing to help us do that, we won’t turn down your help.”

Riptide’s shoulders loosened. “I do not require your agreement or your alliance. Merely your willingness to protect others.” He reached into his robe, and Val tensed, but when he withdrew his hand, it held no weapon. He gripped a flip phone.

Val hadn’t known those were still a thing. “You came prepared.”

“I had a feeling you would say yes.” Riptide crouched and tossed the phone toward her. It landed a few inches from her feet. Shadow sniffed it and returned his gaze to Riptide. Only then did Val bend and pick it up. The phone felt odd in her grip.

“It contains only one number.” Riptide pulled a matching burner phone from his robe. “Do not abuse it. Don’t even think of tracking it, either. It’s heavily warded.”

“I won’t betray your trust.” Val paused. “Unless I have no choice.”

“Fair enough.” Riptide inclined his head. “If I need your services, I’ll call.”

Without another word, he turned and vaulted onto his chimera. The giant creature disappeared among the rushes with eerie swiftness, and the elves melted into the night.

Crickets chirped. Val scanned the reeds to see where they’d gone, but nothing stirred.

“Well, that was weird,” Tetra remarked. “Now, pizza!”

She squelched through the mud toward Genevieve. Val stared across the water and tucked the burner phone into her pocket before she followed, Shadow jogging by her side.

“What’s for dinner?” Tetra asked.

Val took her eyes off the road to stare at her. “Tetra, it’s four-thirty.”

“Yeah, but what’s for dinner?” Tetra stretched. “We should think about it before we get to the gym.”

The pedestrians on the sidewalk stopped to gape at Genevieve as she halted at a red light down the block from Vanguard MMA. One little boy goggled at her, forcing his mother to tow him away.

“Leftover pizza,” Val decided.

“Beer, too.” Tetra grinned. “I can’t wait to get home.”

“You’re that excited about leftover pizza and beer?” Val touched the gas pedal when the light turned green, revving Genevieve’s engine for the little boy’s benefit.

“I’m excited about the next episode of Avatar. Don’t you remember? The sandbenders have Appa.” Sorrow shone in Tetra’s eyes. “What’s Aang going to do without him?”

“I thought it was a kids’ show,” Val teased.

“You shut your mouth, Valerie Stonehold,” Tetra grouched.

They parked in front of Vanguard MMA, and as Val exited Genevieve and grabbed her duffle bag, Buck stepped out of the gym, grinning. “What’s up, ladies?”

“Buck, hey.” Val gave him a hug and a thump on the back. “Hey, Henry. Archibald.”

“Hi,” Archibald squeaked, eyes locked on Tetra.

“Hi? What’s that supposed to mean?” Tetra blurted.

Archibald flushed. “Just, you know, hey.”

Buck rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Val. You need to hear this.” He grabbed Val’s arm and towed her into the gym.

The familiar smells of sweat and vinyl enfolded Val like a hug. Thumps and grunts from the mats and punching bags blended with conversation from the teens who lined the walls as always, sharing snacks and waiting for their turns. Diego stood before a group of girls in leggings, taking them through a series of self-defense strikes.

“Remember, alien face, spear hand, groin slap.” He moved gracefully through the three simple motions.

Val raised a hand in greeting.

“Run through those a few more times,” Diego ordered. “Joe will take you through your cool-down stretches.”

The girls called their thanks as Diego strode across the gym to Val, grinning.

“I know that look.” Val chuckled. “Is Dwayne back to kick my ass again?”

“Not this time. I have something even better in mind for you today, Val.” Diego grinned and nodded at the locker rooms. “A new opponent.”

“Another pro?” Val asked.

“Yes, and this time, she’s a women’s champion.”

Val’s eyes widened. “I’ve never had the opportunity to spar with a female pro.”

“Tonight’s the night. I think it’ll be good preparation for that UFC fight we’re thinking about.” Diego nudged her. “Go warm up and hit the arena.”

Val eagerly ran through drills to limber her muscles, then sat on the arena’s edge while Tetra strapped on her gloves. The faerie offered her a mouthguard, which Diego insisted on even though Val had to concentrate to avoid biting it in half.

“Thanks,” Val lisped past the guard.

Tetra looked past her, and her face froze. “Oh, shit.”

“What?”

“Val, meet Addison Thomas,” Diego interrupted, his tone light. “Your first pro female opponent.”

Val’s amulet hummed under her tank top. The back of her neck prickled as hairs rose.

“Val—” Tetra began.

Val shook the faerie’s hand off her arm, then rose to face her opponent.

Addison Thomas was a harpy. She stood in the arena corner, eagle wings half unfolded. Feathers patterned in brown and beige covered her shapely humanoid body. Her bare hands and feet ended in scaly yellow digits and curved black talons. Tail feathers fanned from the base of her spine. Her bronze face produced a sharp-toothed smile. Apart from her canine teeth’s needle points, Addison’s face was conventionally attractive, with large eyes the color of storm clouds.

“Hey, Valerie.” The harpy raised her chin. “It’s nice to meet you.” She extended a hand.

Diego’s eyes narrowed when Val hesitated.

She cleared her throat. Thanks to the Veil, every human in the gym saw Addison as one of them. “Hi. Thanks for coming,” she managed with an apologetic grin as she shook Addison’s hand. She’d apologize privately for reacting to her opponent’s species.

“Val,” Tetra hissed.

Val ignored her.

“Ready?” Addison asked.

“Don’t take it easy on her, Addison,” Diego called. “She’s ready to go pro. I want to see what she’s got.”

Addison chuckled as she raised her hands. “Don’t worry. I wasn’t planning on it.”

Val tried to ignore her amulet’s pulses as she and the harpy circled each other. Maybe this will be a good thing. It’ll be fun to let loose on a paranormal opponent. Her limbs hungered for a real battle after weeks of bending over her anvil.

She sent a kick toward Addison’s belly. The harpy jumped aside and smacked Val’s leg out of the way. It looked like an ordinary block to human eyes, but the tips of razor-sharp talons raked Val’s skin. She landed stumbling, scratches burning her ankle.

“Get it together, Val. Footwork,” Diego coached.

Val bit her lip to keep from protesting. Addison’s gray eyes met hers, and the harpy’s grin widened.

Addison made the next move. She swung a jab at Val’s face, then raked her claws toward Val’s throat. Val jumped aside and tried a leg hook. The harpy flung her arms around Val’s waist and dragged them both down to the mat. Val tried to block, but a claw penetrated her tank top and sliced into the soft skin of her belly. The pain made her grunt, and then Addison was on top of her.

The harpy’s weight made Val gasp. She twisted Val’s arm over her neck in a chokehold that was usually painful. With the points of Addison’s claws digging into her skin, it was agonizing. Val glanced at Diego for help, but the human saw no claws or blood. His eyes narrowed.

She raised her hips to break Addison’s straddle, but the harpy could withstand her dwarven strength. Addison leaned close and hissed in Val’s ear as the chokehold made her head spin. “Thought you could gatecrash my party last night, huh? Think again.”

Val stared at her. “You! You did that to the Fist.”

Addison snarled, baring her teeth, and Val twisted her left arm free. She planted her fist squarely in the harpy’s belly. Addison fell back with a grunt, and Val writhed to her feet, hands raised, blood hot on her skin.

“Yeah, Val!” a teenager called from the sidelines.

“Go, Val!” another encouraged.

Merlin’s ass crack. The weight of their innocent lives pressed down on Val’s shoulders. What would Addison do to them if she was provoked?

She glanced at Tetra. The wide-eyed faerie had her fists clenched, caustic dust glittering between her fingers, but Val shook her head. A full-scale fight between faerie, dwarf, and harpy would put human lives at risk.

“Footwork, Val!” Diego barked. “Come on!”

Addison hissed. Val raised her fists, mind racing. If Addison wanted to kill Val, she could have done it in the streets or an alley, but the harpy knew she didn’t stand a chance against Val if she drew her weapons. No, she had to corner Val unarmed in the MMA ring. That meant Addison couldn’t blow her cover.

Val had to end this fight quickly.

She lunged, swinging haymakers at Addison’s face. The harpy skittered back, claws swift on the mat, dodging each with quick flaps of her wings. Val swung another haymaker, this one intentionally loose and sloppy, and Addison seized her wrist in both hands. Val grunted and braced herself, and Addison grappled her to the ground, gripping her arm. She didn’t resist as the harpy twisted her arm back and up in a painful lock made worse by her digging claws.

Val made no effort to break free. She gasped in pain and slapped the mat three times.

Addison hesitated. A sneer of disgust crept over her face when she realized she’d been fooled.

“Addison—” Diego began.

The harpy released Val and sprang to her feet in disgust. Bleeding and breathless, Val stayed down, wrapping herself around her right knee. It didn’t hurt, but she didn’t have to fake the pain in her short, tight breaths.

“Val?” Tetra quavered.

“She’s fine. I didn’t lock her arm that hard,” Addison scornfully declared.

“Not the lock,” Val groaned. “Misstep. Knee.”

Diego swung into the arena and knelt beside her. “Don’t move.”

“Not a big deal.” Val locked her hands around her knee to keep Diego from touching it, knowing he’d call her bluff if he saw no swelling. “Old bodyguarding injury, but I definitely tweaked it.”

“Aw, c’mon, Val,” Tetra moaned. “So close to your first UFC fight, and you bugger your stupid old knee?” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll get the ice.”

“Maybe you should have it checked out.” Worry pinched the corners of Diego’s eyes. “It must have been bothering you when the fight started. I could see you weren’t on your game.”

“I pulled it warming up.” Val grimaced. “Sorry. I didn’t want to miss the fight, but I should have said something.”

Diego sighed. “I think you’re learning your lesson about ignoring injuries, Val.” He gave her a hand. “Let’s get you off the mat.”

Val allowed him to pull her upright. She slid out of the arena with exaggerated winces as Diego held the ropes aside. Tetra pulled Val’s arm over her shoulders and supported her. Val held her wounded leg aloft, ignoring the blood trickling over the skin. The Veil seemed to extend to paranormally inflicted wounds. The humans didn’t comment on the blood.

“Thanks for the fight, Addison.” Val raised her chin to meet the harpy’s eyes. “Sorry it ended so quickly. I’d hate to think you came all this way for nothing.”

Addison heard the steel in Val’s tone and sneered.

“You could spar with one of my other pros,” Diego offered.

“It’s all right, Mr. Lopez.” Addison flashed a smile. “I’ll be back another day.” She whisked out of the gym.

“We should go after her,” Tetra whispered.

Val shook her head. “Not here. Too many people.”

Henry hurried over, wide-eyed. “Are you okay, Val? Let me help you, Tetra. She’s heavy.”

“Henry!” Buck chided. “You can’t say that about a girl.”

“Guys, it’s okay.” Val laughed.

“Let’s get you to the locker room.” Buck took her left arm while Henry took her right.

“I’ll fetch ice.” Archibald hurried off.

“Val—” Tetra began.

“Call Qenzi,” Val told her. “I’d like her to know.”

Tetra pulled out her phone as Val’s well-meaning friends propelled her to the locker room.

Val finally persuaded the solicitous Buck and Henry to leave her alone by saying she needed a shower. She scrubbed the blood from her wounds under the hot water. None seemed stitch-worthy, but they burned as she cleaned them.

She had to check if Tetra had spoken to Qenzi. Addison Thomas might not be the harpy’s real name, but the description might help the OPMA find her.

Val almost forgot to limp as she left the locker room. The guilt she felt over the deception vanished at the sight of the peaceful gym, humans safe and sound as they sparred, ran drills, or watched.

“Tetra,” she hissed, spotting the faerie near the arena where Joe and Daniel sparred.

She stopped as Archibald marched up to Tetra. Buck and Henry were arguing by the vending machine on the other side of the gym. Archibald held his chin high, but his hands trembled.

“Hey, Tetra.” He rubbed his neck. “Um, how are you?”

“Fine,” Tetra muttered, distracted.

Archibald swallowed. “There’s something I have to ask you.”

“What?” Tetra growled.

“Come on, Tetra,” Val whispered.

Archibald squared his shoulders. “I, uh, I think you’re really great.”

Tetra’s head swiveled to him, and her jaw dropped.

“You’re badass and smart, and you don’t give a shit what people think about you.” Archibald’s cheeks reddened. “You’re pretty, too. I hope that’s okay to say, but it’s true.”

Tetra’s mouth shut, then opened again. No sounds came out.

“So I, um, I wanted to know if...if...” Archibald cleared his throat. “If you’d like to go to dinner with me sometime.”

“D-dinner?” Tetra squeaked.

“Yeah. Like…” Archibald inhaled and squared his shoulders. “Like a date.”

Tetra emitted a strangled squeak.

“If you want,” Archibald added.

“I do,” Tetra croaked. “Wait! No. I don’t know.”

“What?” Archibald asked.

“What? What yourself! I have to go now!” Tetra yelled.

She strode to Val and grabbed her by the wounded wrist.

“Ow!” Val protested. “Watch the ar…I mean, the knee!”

“We’re leaving!” Tetra hissed.

She switched her grip to Val’s elbow and towed her out of the gym.

“I called Qenzi,” the faerie announced before Val could say anything. “She’ll come over later to make a memory orb of what you saw.”

“Okay, but—” Val began.

“The OPMA’s investigating Addison Thomas as registered under the UFC. Qenzi thinks it might be a stolen identity. She’ll throw everything she’s got at finding that chick,” Tetra growled.

“Yes, but—” Val tried.

“I’m sure they’ll find her.” Tetra shoved Val into Genevieve and scrambled into the passenger seat. “Drive, please.”

Val turned the key. Genevieve sputtered.

“Now?” Tetra shrieked. “Now is when this hunk of junk won’t start?”

“Gennie, quit being spiteful,” Val grumbled.

Genevieve’s engine roared to life. She yanked Tetra’s seat belt over her lap and cinched it tight.

“Ow!” Tetra bellowed. “Get us out of here!”

“Tetra, what’s the rush?” Val laughed. “And why’d you turn Archibald down? If you don’t like him, you should say so.”

“That’s not it!” Tetra’s cheeks turned scarlet.

“He’s the one you’ve been texting, isn’t he?” Val asked.

Tetra scowled. “Maybe.”

“Then why didn’t you let him take you out?”

Genevieve pulled away with a defiant snarl.

Tetra clung to the handle over the door. “I don’t know.”

“He seems like a great guy.”

“I think so, too, but I’m new to the human world, Val.” Tetra flushed. “How am I supposed to know Mr. Right when I see him?”

Val shrugged. “He might not be Mr. Right, but he’s Mr. Right Now. Who knows what could happen?”

Tetra sighed and leaned her head against the window, then curled her body into a miserable heap. Silence pervaded the Mustang’s interior.

“Let’s have a beer,” Val suggested.

“I need one,” Tetra muttered.

Genevieve rumbled toward the Iron Fist.

Liam jumped off his stool at the bar when Val and Tetra came in.

“Val! Are you okay?” he called. “Henry texted me about your knee.”

“It’s fine,” Val reassured him. “Tweaked it a little, that’s all. It’ll be okay in a day or two.”

“He said you were fighting your first pro female opponent,” Jess chipped in. The kindly human wore dirty purple scrubs and had muddy paw prints on her knees from a day at the vet clinic. “I’m sorry it didn’t end well.”

“Nobody’s fault.” Val gave her a reassuring smile as she slid onto a stool and nodded at Jeff, who sat at the bar’s end.

“Hey, Isabella.” Her curvaceous friend looked up from her phone. “Oh, hey! Sorry.” She put the phone aside. “The knee’s not too bad?”

“No, it’s fine. Bummed that I couldn’t finish the fight, that’s all,” Val told her.

“Sounds like something a round of drinks will fix.” Isabella grinned. “Hey, Enzo. Look who’s here!”

The orc hurried over with a tray of drinks. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he frowned at the scars on Val’s wrists but didn’t ask. He seemed too busy. The Fist was full to bursting. Dante and Sadie scurried back and forth with trays. Val would warn him about Addison later.

She grasped her beer glass and drank deeply, relishing the buzz that erased the pain from her wrists and ankles. Tetra knocked her IPA back in two gulps.

“Whoa there, cowgirl.” Liam raised his eyebrows. “Everything okay?”

“I don’t know.” Tetra gloomily stared into her glass. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“What’s wrong?” Jess asked.

Tetra’s deep sigh shook her petite frame. “Archibald asked me out.”

“Took him long enough,” Isabella observed.

“Well?” Jess grinned. “Where’s he taking you?”

Tetra flushed. “Nowhere. I said no.”

“You really didn’t,” Val chipped in. “You yelled a bunch of confusing shit, and then we left.”

Liam groaned. “Poor Archibald.”

“Hey, don’t start with that.” Isabella wagged a warning finger at him. “She doesn’t owe him a date if she doesn’t want one.”

“That’s the thing,” Tetra wailed. She folded her arms on the bar and let her forehead fall to her hands. “I like him. I want to go out with him.”

“Why didn’t you say yes, then?” Val demanded.

“I don’t know!” Tetra spluttered, blushing. “I don’t know how to do this dating thing. What if I screw it up?”

“Oh, honey.” Isabella put an arm around Tetra’s shoulders. “Dating is all about screwing up. That’s how it works. Don’t be scared to make mistakes.”

“The only way to learn is to get started,” Liam added.

Jess swigged beer. “Not me. I’m never dating again. Not after Gary.”

“You went out with Sam from the laundromat last week,” Isabella pointed out.

“Oh, yeah.” Jess made a face. “Never again after Gary and Sam.”

“Don’t listen to her.” Isabella squeezed Tetra’s shoulders. “If you like the guy, go out with him. It’s that simple.”

“But what—” Tetra hung her head. “What if he doesn’t like me after he gets to know me?”

“Aw, Tetra.” Val laid a hand on her back.

“He might not,” Isabella acknowledged, “but that’s no reflection on your value as a human being. That’s how dating goes sometimes, but it’s still fun.”

“You might even find your forever person,” Jess interjected.

“‘Forever person?’” Liam chortled. “Jess, you hang out with too many animals.”

“Oh, shut up.” Jess playfully slapped his shoulder.

Laughter enveloped their corner of the bar, and Tetra joined in, to Val’s relief. The faerie shook Isabella’s arm off and waved her empty glass at Dante.

“Maybe I’ll say yes if he asks again,” she muttered.

“He’ll ask again. Trust me.” Liam grinned.

“He’d be an idiot not to,” Isabella told her. “You’re smart, sexy, and fun.”

“Don’t forget badass,” Jess added. “Totally badass.”

“Exactly.” Isabella nodded. “Oh, speaking of sexy, any news on the bridesmaid dresses, Val?”

“The designer finished them this week. I have to go for another fitting.” Val stared into her drink.

“I’ll come with you if you like,” Isabella suggested. “Unless your stepmom-to-be wants to.”

Val shook her head. “It’s a long journey for her.”

“How are things going?” Jess asked. “Seems like you guys had a good time when you went dress shopping.”

“Yeah, we did. She’s pretty cool. Most importantly, she’s good to my dad.” Val bit her lip.

“You’re still uncomfortable with the idea, though,” Liam surmised.

Val shook her head. “Not really. Bodil’s great, but she’s going to change everything. It’s been only Dad and me for so long. Now his attention’s going to be split.”

Jess smiled. “Do I detect a little jealousy, Val?”

Val ran a hand through her undercut. “Maybe.”

“Hey, that’s okay. It’s normal and natural. Right now, your dad’s the most important person in your life,” Isabella pointed out. “Feeling jealous over him is only to be expected.”

“From what I’ve heard about your dad, nothing could ever make him quit caring about you,” Liam added. “Sure, things will change, but it’ll be okay.”

Val smiled. “Thanks, guys.”

Sadie returned to take drink orders from the group, and Val’s phone chimed. She checked it, expecting a text from Diego.

The message was from Frode.

Hey, little spark. We’re having Bodil’s family over next weekend. I’d love to introduce you to them. Want to come?

Val’s heart gave a sharp thump.

Where?

At home :)

Val’s gut tied itself in a knot under her ribcage. Go home to the Iron Hills and meet Bodil’s family? She’d rather fight twenty harpies bare-handed. Her toes curled in her boots.

Sorry, I’m busy next weekend. Enjoy it, though!

Her finger hovered over the send button. She looked at Liam, who laughed at something Isabella had said.

Things will change, but they’ll be okay, too.

She hit the backspace key and typed a new message.

I’d love to be there.

Frode sent half a dozen grinning emojis and three blue hearts. Val smiled, but the knot still sat under her sternum, rigid and trembling.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

The Iron Hills slumbered between two massive guardians, the towering slope of Mount Adalbern to the east and the stern form of Ironforge Bastion to the west. The mountain rose to a jagged peak, boulder-strewn and bathed in gold as the sun sank, silhouetting Ironforge Bastion’s sharp lines. The fortress had always seemed enormous to Val. Now, she realized its round towers were only a little taller than the five-story New York headquarters of the OPMA.

She tried to think about how small the bastion was, not the rutted road that made Genevieve’s suspension squeak in complaint or the little villages dotting the hills between the bastion and the mountainside.

Stone-walled longhouses with thatched roofs clustered neatly on every hilltop, a wall encircling each group of buildings. Shaggy goats and sheep cropped the grass on the rocky hillsides. The Central Mine occupied a leveled area between hills, a massive, low complex that belched dark smoke and rattled with activity. Its four-foot walls were too tall for most dwarves to climb over. Val could do so with ease.

The memory of a school trip in seventh grade swam to her consciousness. Val crushed it ruthlessly, but cruel laughter nonetheless rang in her mind.

Shadow whined from the back seat.

“It’s okay, boy,” Val murmured. “Mom’s not happy to be home, that’s all.”

She slowed Genevieve as the Mustang negotiated the dirt road that traversed the mountainside. It led most of the way to Frode’s house, designed for horses and wagons, not muscle cars. The paths that crisscrossed the Iron Hills, which ultimately led to the Central Mine, were tracks, not roads. Minecarts rattled down the tracks, ferrying everything from hay and vegetables to iron bars and families. The glowing blue runes etched on the bottom of each powered them, Val knew. She’d built many.

“Can’t you drive on the grass?” she hissed to Genevieve. “Dad’s house is right over there as the crow flies. Then we don’t have to go into the village.”

Genevieve reproachfully honked.

“You could change shape. Become a monster truck again,” Val suggested.

Genevieve slapped Val’s knuckles with the turn signal lever.

“Okay! Sorry I said anything,” Val muttered.

She cringed as the black-and-pewter Mustang rolled into the Iron Hills, her famed bodywork as conspicuous as a unicorn among pit ponies. Even at this pace, Genevieve’s engine had a deep timbre unlike anything in the Iron Hills. Doors and windows opened as she crawled between villages, and dwarf children two feet tall, the first sprigs of beard visible on their jawlines, bare feet covered in thick, dark hair, rushed into the street to stare at the incredible vehicle.

“That’s Genevieve!” one squealed.

“Isn’t that the queen’s car?” another cried.

“I heard she can turn into a giant robot!” a third burst out.

“It’s the queen! It’s the queen!” several chorused, running down the hill to the road.

Val sank down, wishing she had a handful of Tetra’s invisibility dust so she could disappear. Genevieve’s engine purred with pleasure as the kids ran alongside her, reaching out with reverent fingers to touch the legendary paintwork.

One darted over to the driver’s side window.

“Don’t!” another argued. “She can blow you up with her mind!”

“Wait!” The kid stopped. Val turned her face away, but it was too late. “That’s not the queen!”

“Who is it?” his companion asked.

The child’s laughter scratched over Val’s soul like sandpaper. “It’s Eiravel Stonehold!” His laughter rose. “I bet she can’t even fit in a minecart!”

The children’s laughter pursued her as she reached the crossroads and took the even bumpier track toward Frode’s house. Shadow barked and growled, and the kids scattered toward their houses, but their voices carried far. “It’s Eiravel Stonehold! She’s back!”

“I hate this,” Val muttered.

Shadow whimpered.

Genevieve trundled on, drawing more dwarves to their doors and windows. When they passed the Forge, the longhouse bar in which Val had honed her brawling skills, a crowd of drunken dwarves stood outside in the stable yard, clutching heavy tankards and yelling loud enough to spook the shaggy ponies in their stalls.

“Why’d you come back, bitch?” Durgan hadn’t gotten any less ugly in the past few months.

“Finally grow some hair?” his cronies yelled.

Middle fingers waved Val past the Forge.

Genevieve finally left the village and bumped toward Frode’s house on Mount Adalbern’s flank. If it hadn’t meant going back through the village, Val would have gone home.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she growled between gritted teeth. “I came here to make Dad happy, Shadow, but what if Bodil’s family acts the way those dwarves did?”

Shadow whined.

“He’ll be mortified.” Heat flushed Val’s cheeks. “As if I haven’t already embarrassed him enough.”

Frode used to be known as the most gifted smith in the Iron Hills. Then Val came along, and he became that giant, bald girl’s father, poor old fellow. The one whose wife dumped him.

Tears stung her eyes. She swiped them away, leaving Genevieve to drive herself up the mountain.

“Stop,” Val croaked. “Please.”

Genevieve puttered to a halt. A few hundred yards ahead lay a boulder streaked with quartz and ruby veins. The road curved around it, so Frode might not have seen Genevieve yet. She could go home, tell him that she couldn’t make it, that something had come up. A top-secret contract for the queen would do nicely.

Shadow whimpered. His tongue lapped her ear, and Val sighed as she swallowed her tears. “I’ll have to face them eventually, Shad. Better to ruin everything now than at the wedding.”

Only the thought of letting Frode down on his wedding day forced Val to put Genevieve back in gear.

They rounded the boulder, and Val’s heart took a sudden, painful twist at the sight of her former home. Frode and Bodil’s home soon, she guessed. Carved into the mountainside, the little house’s façade was dwarf-carved rock, sheer and rough. The top two feet were a different color since Frode had added them generations after ancient Stoneholds built the original wall.

Rich grass grew on the roof, where a chubby winged pig lay in the sunshine. The smithy’s door stood open as usual, but the anvil was silent. Someone had moved the curtain of morning glories aside to open the front door.

Val halted Genevieve on the grass by the smithy’s door. Shadow wagged his tail and emitted a booming bark.

“Is that my little spark I hear?” Frode called.

Val exited, opened the door, and tilted the seat forward. The big dog leaped onto the grass and bounded to Frode as he left the house, almost knocking the dwarf on his ass.

“Shadow!” Val scolded. “Down!”

Shadow dropped to his belly, tail wagging furiously, and wiggled at Frode’s feet. The stout dwarf’s head barely reached Val’s ribs. A thick mass of curly iron-gray hair and beard almost obscured his face despite the leather tie that held most of his hair in a knot on his head. Amid the map of wrinkles, his dark eyes sparkled with friendliness.

“Hey, Dad.” Val had to bend down to hug him, but it felt right as Frode’s arms circled her waist and squeezed.

“My darling.” Frode hugged hard, his strong arms making her bones creak. “Missed you so much.”

“Missed you, too,” Val truthfully told him. She wouldn’t mind never seeing the Iron Hills again, but when her father hugged her, she realized how much she’d missed him.

“Everyone’s here!” Frode stepped back, grinning. “Hey, Milda, come out here and see Genevieve!”

Val laughed as the countess of the Iron Hills marched from the house. Milda was a carbon copy of Frode, except that she wore her hair in a mass of tidy braids that hung to her heels. Her delicate, straight beard had jeweled beads in it.

“Val, honey, it’s been so long.” Milda hugged Val with one arm. “Get a load of you! You look amazing. Frode, what’s your child been doing? I thought the city would make her soft.” She gave Val’s belly a friendly punch. “She’s turned to steel!”

Val laughed. “Ironsmithing and cage fighting, Auntie.”

“Of course.” Milda grinned. “Frode shows me all the videos.”

Val groaned inwardly.

“Pictures of your jewelry, too,” Frode added. “Don’t forget those.”

“This must be Shadow.” Milda petted the massive dog. “Isn’t he gorgeous? Reminds me of the big dogs in the tapestries at the bastion.” Shadow licked her face.

“Come inside, little spark.” Frode gripped her arm. “Bodil, Gunnar, and the kids are in the kitchen.”

Frode and Milda bustled in. Val doubted she would have had the courage to follow if Shadow hadn’t gone first, tail wagging, producing a chorus of laughter.

She would rather have fought ten harpies than step in, but Val ducked through the door and slowly straightened in Frode’s kitchen.

It was smaller than she remembered, and she hadn’t seen this many paras inside since she was a tiny child. Tiny enough that nobody knew she had gigantism. She froze. Her head almost brushed the ceiling, which was comically tall for everyone else in the room.

Bodil sat at the kitchen table with two dwarves while three children tumbled around on the floor with Shadow. Val noticed that Frode hadn’t lowered the table. It was still her height. He’d merely added more tall stools with steps to accommodate normal-sized dwarves.

“Hey, Val!” Bodil beamed. “So glad you could make it. Gunnar, Elin, this is my soon-to-be stepdaughter.” She raised her chin, pride in her eyes. “Dame Eiravel Stonehold.”

Elin was yelling at her children, but Gunnar gave Val his full attention. Her guts sank into her boots as he gave her a look that traveled up and up from her feet, hesitating on her beardless chin, lingering on her wig, and finally meeting her eyes. His jaw slackened in surprise, but his cheeks flushed when he met her gaze, and he quickly looked away.

Val’s toes curled.

“Val, this is my brother and sister-in-law and their kids,” Bodil added.

She kicked Gunnar in the shins, and he cleared his throat. “N-nice to meet you.”

“Skandar! Frida! Anneli!” Elin bellowed. “Cut it out! Leave the dog’s ears alone!”

Only the boy extricated himself from the merry heap on the floor. The two little girls went on playing with Shadow, who rolled around amiably, ignoring the fingers poking into his eyes by accident. The boy stared up at Val, and his jaw dropped. She braced herself for the awkward questions.

“Whoa!” he yelled. “Are you Valerie Stonehold?”

“Um, I go by Val,” she croaked.

“Dad, this is her!” The boy grabbed his father’s sleeve. “She’s the one in that video with Nadia Stewart and the boar fae.” He turned to Val. “You are epic!”

Val laughed. “Thanks, I guess.”

“Skandar,” Elin chided. “Don’t make a fuss. Val wants to have some coffee and relax, not be bombarded.”

“Anneli, Frida!” Skandar prodded his sisters into getting up. “Don’t you know who that is? That’s the Guardian of the Iron Fist. Show some respect!”

“He spends more time on social media than he should.” Elin grimaced apologetically.

Val laughed, disbelieving. “It’s...it’s fine.” She smiled. “A better reception than I used to get here.”

Gunnar cleared his throat and extended a hand to her. “It’s good to meet you, Val. Bodil told me what you did to that mugger.” His smile erased the last traces of shock in his eyes. “Thanks for looking out for my sister.”

“Of course.” Val cleared her throat. “Always.”

Gunnar gripped her hand. “I believe you.”

She stared at him, startled by what she saw in his face: respect.

“Who wants a pickled goat eyeball?” Frode boomed, slamming the pungent jar down on the table.

“Frode!” Milda laughed. “No one does.”

“Ooh, I won’t say no.” Val fished one out with her fingers and crunched it.

Skandar made graphic gagging noises to Elin’s mortification. Maybe you don’t have to be nearly six feet tall and bald to embarrass your parents, Val thought. She grinned at him with pickle juice running between her teeth, and Gunnar laughed at Skandar’s expression.

“Okay, enough of that!” Bodil slipped off her stool. “Who wants a round of tug-of-war?”

“I pick Val!” Elin yelled. “Val’s on my team!”

Everyone stared at her.

“Elin’s a bit competitive.” Gunnar put an arm around her shoulders.

“Yes, and I want Val,” Elin affirmed.

“Then you have me.” Val laughed. “Dad, where’s the tug-of-war rope?”

“Same place as always, darling. In the back of the smithy. Come on, you lot! Let’s get the line drawn.” Frode marched outside.

Laughter filled every room in the house as Val hurried to fetch the rope, Shadow trotting at her heels. She couldn’t stop smiling.

Val, Elin, Frode, and Anneli won the first round of tug-of-war. Shadow joined Milda, Bodil, Skandar, Gunnar, and Frida’s team in the second round and pulled Elin’s team off their feet. They landed in a merry heap on the grass while Shadow ran rings around them, butt tucked under him in a fit of the zoomies. Everyone laughed until they cried.

Val’s arms were sore from tussling with the kids when she finally went to bed, her wig askew, belly full of meatballs, potatoes, more pickled goat eyeballs, and Milda’s excellent cinnamon rolls. Rain drummed on the roof. The kids’ voices floated up from the smithy, where Frode had put them up for the night due to the rain.

Val had offered to share her room with Milda, but her aunt had departed despite the rain, saying that Ironforge Bastion couldn’t wake up without its countess. She had hoped to talk to her aunt about the Red Bear, but maybe at the wedding, they’d get a chance.

She clumped down the hall to her room, staying in the middle, where the ceiling was high enough to accommodate her. Shadow paced at her heels, panting.

“You’re tired too, buddy.” Val rubbed his ears. “We’ll sleep well before we go home in the morning.”

Shadow yawned.

Val stepped into her childhood bedroom and stared at it. The curved wall allowed her to stand straight in the middle…barely. Frode had built her bed. Nobody in the Iron Hills made beds six feet long. Her quilt still covered it, and there was no dust on the empty wardrobe. A folded goat’s hair blanket lay at the bed’s foot.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “He kept it ready for me, Shad.” She rubbed the dog’s head. “I should have visited long ago.”

Val tossed her duffle bag on the floor and changed into sweatpants and a baggy T-shirt. She tossed her iron-gray wig on the nearest hook and rolled into bed, folding her shoulders to keep from hitting the wall. Shadow hopped on top of her and sprawled on her chest.

“Ugh.” Val grunted. “Dude, you’re heavy.”

Shadow sighed and closed his eyes. Val wrapped her arms around him and stared at the ceiling, thinking she would never fall asleep. She drifted off seconds later.

A familiar sound penetrated Val’s slumber. She snorted and raised her head from a sticky patch of drool on her pillow.

“Huh?” she muttered. “Whassup?”

She reached for her nightstand and missed, then remembered she was in her childhood bedroom, not at home. Still, the sound that had woken her was one she heard regularly.

It came again: a low whine and the scrape of claws on wood.

“You gotta pee, boy?” Val mumbled.

Shadow sat by the door, tail wagging.

“Okay, okay.” Val rolled to her feet, dodging the low ceiling, and padded barefoot to the door. Shadow barked and bounded around her feet as they headed into the hall.

“Shhh!” Val hissed.

The steady drum of rain on the roof punctuated her footsteps and the click of Shadow’s claws. Her dwarven vision guided her through the dark, silent house. She avoided the smithy and led him into the orderly kitchen, which still smelled of Milda’s cinnamon rolls. Several leftover pastries lay under a dishtowel on the table. Val stole one and munched it as she opened the door.

“Make it quick,” she ordered through a mouthful of cinnamon roll. “It’s raining.”

Shadow trotted outside and lifted his leg on the nearest boulder.

“Good boy!” Val took another bite. “Now, c’mon back in.”

Shadow turned, then hesitated. His nose twitched, and his body stiffened. He raised his head, sniffing.

“Dude, come inside,” Val protested. “You’re getting wet.”

Shadow turned away. His stiff, high tail slowly wagged, and he pricked his ears.

“Shadow!” Val ordered. “Come!”

Shadow barked. The explosion of sound made Val jump.

“Shhh!” she hissed. “Dude, get your ass back in here!”

He barked again and reared. The massive dog stood on his hind legs, then sprang forward and landed running.

“Shadow!” Val yelled.

He ignored her and disappeared into the night.

“Shit. Shit. Shitballs!” Val tossed the half-eaten roll aside and ran into the rain. “Shadow! Shadow, come here!”

Her heart rammed against her ribs as she sprinted after him. What was she thinking? He’d never been in Avalon except for town and the palace. This place must be a tapestry of irresistible new smells. Of course he’d run off.

Who knew what creatures he might run into out there?

“Shadow!” Val screamed.

She stumbled to a halt, disoriented, the wet grass slippery under her feet. Lightning flashed, giving her a moment’s light to spot Shadow streaking up the mountain to her left.

“Hey!” Val yelled.

She stumbled after him, tripping, pebbles digging into her cold, wet feet with each step. She didn’t care. If something happened to him…

The thought was unbearable.

Fear made her breathing ragged and her heart pound as she ran. She slipped and fell to her knees. Shaking, she scrambled up and kept running. She tried not to think about the wyverns that roamed the Spine’s peaks. Big though he was, Shadow would be a mere mouthful for them.

Grass gave way to rocks. Val slipped and stumbled around boulders, using her hands to balance herself, drenched to the skin. Was she still going the right way? She had no idea. The lightning made the world look more confusing, a jumble of boulders, rain, and sky. She’d never been this far up the mountain before since there was nothing to see up here.

Nothing except wyverns.

She rammed her shin into a rock, stumbled, and almost fell. “Shadow!” The hitch in her voice told her that not all the water running down her cheeks was rain.

Shadow barked. Relief flooded Val, instantly replaced by terror. What was he barking at?

“Come here, buddy!” she yelled.

He barked again. The sound came from farther down the mountain, not toward home, but in the valley on the other side. How had he gotten down there so fast?

The dog kept barking, guiding Val to him as she scrambled around the boulders. She found no goat paths and had to fight for every step. Why hadn’t she grabbed her phone or a flashlight?

A red glow from the rocks ahead made her hesitate until she realized it was a reflection. Her amulet felt like the only warm thing in the world. The glow of the bear’s ruby eyes provided enough light to pick her way into a dry, rocky valley on the mountain’s east side, where no one ever went. It was wyvern territory.

She hadn’t brought her dagger, but that didn’t trouble Val. As long as Shadow was safe, she’d take on monsters with her bare hands to get him home uninjured.

Eventually, his echoing barks led her onto a broad ledge, its edge so sharp and smooth that it looked para-made. In her amulet’s glow, she spotted him crouched, tail wagging, his barks resounding across the valley.

“Dude. Shadow.” Val gulped against her tears as she ran to him. “What were you thinking?”

She fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight enough to make him whimper. “Don’t do that again, you little shit,” she sobbed.

Shadow licked her face, then strained against her like he wanted to pull away. Val got a death grip on his collar and raised her head. They stood before a yawning gap in the valley’s rocky wall.

“Oh, crap.” Val stumbled upright, clutching his collar. “That’s a wyvern den.”

Shadow whined and pulled harder, his tail wagging furiously. Val’s amulet burned her skin, and she blinked, confused. A wyvern was no more magical than the average rhinoceros. Why would her amulet react to one?

Red light seeped from the rock, and it was not a reflection this time. This deep glow apparently came from smoldering coals. As it spread, Val realized the gap wasn’t a crack in the wall. It was a doorway, and dwarvish runes gave off the glow.

“Whoa,” she whispered, inching closer.

The runes extended around the stone frame. Their flicker and the pouring rain made them hard to read, but Val picked out several familiar symbols: family, past, moon, and that warding rune that meant protect, guard, or defend.

“What is this place?” she whispered.

Shadow strained forward, wanting to go inside. Val longed to follow.

“Val!”

She raised her head. The cry came from up the mountain in a scared, desperate tone.

“Eiravel!” Frode screamed.

“It’s okay, Dad!” Val shouted. “I’m fine!” She tugged Shadow’s collar. “Later, dude. I’m freezing my ass off.”

Shadow whimpered but obediently turned from the doorway when Val pulled on his collar.

“Val, where are you?” Frode bellowed. A flashlight played over the rocks.

“Coming up. Stay where you are!” Val yelled.

She and Shadow scrambled around the boulders toward her father, leaving the mysterious doorway behind.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Val slid three whiskies onto the table. “Here you go, boys.”

One of the three old men who drank at the Iron Fist every night gave a toothless cackle. “We’re hardly boys.”

Val winked. “I think you can be anything you’d like to be.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” The second old man brandished his cards, careful not to let anyone see them. “Thanks, Val.”

“Anytime. Would you like a bowl of pretzels?” Val asked.

The third shook his head. “Gets the cards oily. Are you going to play or not, B?”

Val left the men to their card game and returned to the bar. The ceiling fan lazily flopped, driving summer heat into the golden evening. A pair of tourists sipped beers and gazed at the decor, pausing now and then to take pictures. They squealed in delight when Shadow padded up to them, his coat luxuriant after his trip to the groomer that morning, and gracefully accepted a few treats from his tip jar.

“Still more popular than I am,” Tetra grumbled, polishing glasses.

Val snorted. “You’d be more popular if you were as cute as he is.”

Tetra rolled her eyes.

Enzo strolled into the bar, hands in his pockets, whistling between his tusks. Shadow left the tourists and greeted him with a wagging tail.

“Hello, handsome boy!” The orc petted him.

“Hey, Enzo.” Val poured an Iron IPA. “What are you doing here? It’s your night off.”

“Checking up on you.” Enzo slid onto a stool and winked.

“Is that so?” Val handed him the beer.

“Of course not.” Enzo laughed. “You know what you’re doing. Stopped by to show you what Blair and Yuka have been up to with our investment.”

“Oh?” Val leaned on the bar.

“Sure, chat with Enzo. I’ll do all these glasses,” Tetra complained.

Val ignored her as Enzo pulled up pictures on his phone and showed her a construction site swarming with dwarves.

“That’s the new brewery,” he explained. “They’ll keep their current location to experiment with making new drinks. Once this is done, they’ll produce their beer here. They figure they can triple their production and hire more paras.”

“That’s fantastic.” Val grinned. “Good for us, them, and the whole economy.”

“Always see the bigger picture, don’t you?” Enzo laughed. “You’re right, though.” He paused. “It got me thinking.”

“You’ve got that look in your eyes.” Val grinned. “Let me hear your idea.”

“What if...” Enzo paused. “What if this wasn’t the only Iron Fist?”

Val raised an eyebrow. “You’re thinking of opening a branch?”

“Think about it, Val.” Enzo’s eyes shone. “This place isn’t big enough, but I don’t want to change it. It would be better to open another one somewhere else in Brooklyn. It won’t have the same history behind it, but we could maintain the feeling. Same decor, same drinks, same blend of paras and people. Same neutrality.”

Val’s skin prickled. Her amulet sang against her skin with the warmth of an embrace.

“Val?” Enzo prompted. “Are you listening?”

Shadow barked and ran to the door, tail wagging.

“Someone’s here,” Val murmured.

Enzo stared at her. “Yeah, a customer. That’s the point of this place.”

“No, someone powerful.” Val blinked. “Someone like⁠—”

Julia Pendragon strode into the Iron Fist. Although she wore denim shorts and a loose white blouse, her aura made Val want to kneel. The Lunar Fae queen’s diaphanous wings spread from her shoulders, the razor edge of one leaving a thin scratch in the doorframe. The Aether Elf following her, the Eternity King, dimmed in comparison, but both still drew wide-eyed looks from everyone in the bar. One of the three old men waved. Val hoped Julie hadn’t seen him.

The queen was unarmed, but Val’s amulet throbbed as she slid onto a barstool next to Val. “Hey, guys. How’s it going?”

“Your Majesty!” Enzo squeaked.

Julie waved a hand. “It’s Julie tonight, dude. We’re on vacation.”

“Thanks to Lillirelda’s amulet, Val.” King Taylor beamed, attractively creasing the corners of his eyes. “This is the first time since she was born we’ve been able to have a weekend away, just the two of us. Not even Rosa or Eggy dared to look after her for more than twelve hours before you made the amulet.”

“You are a lifesaver for this mama,” Julie agreed. “Two Iron IPAs, please, Tetra.”

The faerie scowled but fetched the beers.

“I’m glad it works, Your Majesty,” Val told her.

“Pretzels, Your Majesties?” Enzo jumped off his stool. “Faerie wine? What else can I offer you?”

“Sit your ass down, Enzo.” Julie gratefully accepted her beer. “All we want is a drink and adult conversation that doesn’t revolve around who will blow up who if I don’t execute the Wild Hunt.”

“We can supply that.” Enzo sat again, smiling.

“No talking shop this weekend, remember?” Taylor chided.

“I know, T, I know.” Julie sighed. “It’s hard to convince myself this was the right time to go away.”

“Nothing’s going to change over the weekend, and if it does, we’re only a portal away from home,” Taylor reminded her. Val got the impression that he’d delivered that line several times in the past day. “Besides, you can’t rule your people when you’re too burned out to think straight.”

Julie laid a hand on his cheek, her eyes bright. “What would I do without you, babe?”

Taylor kissed her forehead. “Spontaneously combust?”

“Probably.” Julie snorted. “Anyway, tell them what you overheard, T.”

“What? I wasn’t listening to their conversation.” Taylor’s cheeks flushed gray, the Aether Elf version of a blush.

“Of course you were. You’re an elf. You listen to everything.” Julie beamed. “My majestic husband says you were talking about expanding the Iron Fist to new locations.”

“I just came up with that idea,” Enzo hurriedly interjected. “I was telling Val about it, but we haven’t reached any decisions.”

Val flashed him a grateful smile. “Enzo’s on fire. He’s all ideas.”

The orc sheepishly grinned, showing tusks.

“Well, I think it’s brilliant,” the queen proclaimed.

Enzo brightened. “You do?”

“The Iron Fist achieves my dreams for both dimensions, Enzo. It brings humans and paranormals together in harmony. It promotes peace. It opens doors for collaborative conversations that empower our people, strengthen our bonds, and create a better life for all.” Julie raised her chin.

“Honey, you’re speechifying again,” Taylor told her.

“Oh, shit. Sorry. I’m trying to say this bar is awesome, and if you’re looking for investors to build more of them, I want in.” Julie grinned.

Enzo blinked. “Y-you do?”

“Obviously, you two still need to talk about it, but I thought I’d throw a hand grenade into the conversation. It’s my thing.” Julie sipped her beer. “If you decide to expand, you can count on my financial backing. Anonymously and in a personal capacity, of course. Your neutrality contributes to keeping the peace in this part of town. I love it.”

Val turned to Enzo, grinning. “Listen, man, we can’t not open new Iron Fist branches after an offer like that. I have limitations on the time and effort I can put in, but I’m behind you. Let’s do it.”

“You mean it?” Enzo pressed his fingertips to his lips.

Val mock-punched his shoulder. “I mean it.”

“Val, thank you.” Enzo’s grin stretched across his face.

“To the Iron Fist!” Julie raised her glass.

Glasses clinked, and Taylor slapped Enzo on the back. Val downed half her glass in one pull.

Julie sipped delicately. “Oh, and a little birdie tells me there’s a Stonehold wedding coming up.”

Val raised her eyebrows.

“Bianca. The birdie was Bianca. She has the best tea.” Julie chuckled. “I don’t know how she hears everything, but she does. Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay.” Val rubbed her neck. “It’s not a state secret.”

“Look, when it comes to the Eternity Throne, I know your father is...” Julie fished for a word.

“Your number one fan?” Val suggested.

Julie snorted. “Yeah, pretty much. Would he like it if we turned up at his wedding? Discreetly, of course. No cameras, no retinue. Taylor, Mom, Lilli, and me. A family outing.”

Several seconds passed before Val could make a sound. “Your Majesty, I-I mean…there’s no need, but…I⁠—”

“Val. Come on.” Julie laughed. “I owe you one, girlfriend. Gaia’s Sickle is vitally important. Besides, nobody knows how to party like Iron Dwarves.” She grinned. “It’s a yes or no question. Would your dad like us to be at his wedding?”

Val tried to imagine Frode’s face if the queen came. Tears stung her eyes. “He would love that. He would consider it an unimaginable honor.”

Julie patted her shoulder. “Then we’ll be there.”

“He’ll make you his guests of honor,” Val added.

Julie snorted. “That’s overrated. We’ll simply be happy to be there, drinking ale and picking fights!”

“Julie!” Taylor scolded.

“It’s a dwarf tradition. It’s acceptable,” his wife grumbled.

Val thought about how Frode would react when she told him. “Thank you, Your Majesty. You...you don’t know what this will mean to him. He deserves a break, and...thank you.”

“Hey, it’s all good, girl.” Julie wrapped an arm around Val’s shoulders and squeezed, the amulet singing in her presence. “I understand. I’d do anything to make my mom happy, too.”

Val brushed her hands over her eyes. “I don’t blame you.”

“She’s cool, right? A major pain in the ass but the coolest person I know. Present company excluded.” Julie squeezed Taylor’s hand. “Okay, enough of the soppy shit. Talk to me about how we’ll keep the Iron Fist a neutral location for paras to discuss their differences peacefully.”

“Honey,” Taylor complained.

“It’s not shop talk. Not really. Have another beer,” Julie suggested.

Tetra arrived with a glass, and Taylor wearily drank.

“I was thinking of using charms and wards to ensure our patrons’ privacy,” Val explained. “I can use anti-scrying runes to make sure no one could spy on our patrons in a polished glass.”

“Excellent thinking, Val.” Julie nodded. “You know, it could also be helpful to have soundproofed spaces for paras to discuss whatever they like without humans overhearing.”

“I know excellent wards that would work for that, similar to those I used on the princess’s amulet.” Val grinned. “That’s a great idea.”

“It is!” Enzo gushed. “We should have para-specific booths in the new Iron Fist locations.” He paused. “But I don’t want to put pressure on you, Val. I know you’re busy. We could ask someone else to make that happen.”

“Like who?” Val asked.

Enzo shrugged. “Kaye owes me a favor.”

“Wait, Kaye?” Julie lowered her voice. “Codename Torrent, from the High Magic Division?”

“Yeah. We went to school together,” Enzo calmly explained.

Val nearly spat her beer out. “You went to school with Dame Kaye Pendragon?”

Enzo smirked. “She was still in human form. Nobody knew she was a changeling back then. We’ve stayed in touch.”

“How did I not know that about you?” Val croaked.

“Kaye talks about her orc school friend a lot.” Julie snorted. “She tells a hilarious story about her reaction when she saw through the Veil for the first time and realized what he was. I didn’t know it was you, though.”

Enzo shrugged. “She’s cool.”

“Cool? She’s a war hero!” Val spluttered.

“Hey, if there was a war on—and thank Luna there isn’t—you’d be a war hero, too.” Julie grinned and patted Val’s shoulder. “Let’s make you a peace hero instead, huh?”

Val smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

“Kaye will be able to do soundproof and scry-proof booths in your new locations, Enzo.” Julie tapped her nails on her glass. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Of course, Your Majesty.” Enzo inclined his head.

“When you hire contractors for refurbishments or construction on your new locations, try to hire a mix of pro-death and pro-imprisonment paras, provided they’re qualified for the task.” Julie smiled. “They might come together when they’re forced to work together.”

“Good point, Your Majesty. I’ll also look at suppliers on both sides of the debate,” Enzo promised.

“Thanks.” Julie sighed. “We’ll find our way through the debate. I am firm on my stance, but I’m listening to the people and working on the legislation. The only way we’ll all lose will be if war breaks out over this.”

Or if the Wild Hunters escape, Val thought but didn’t say.

Shadow’s wet nose brushed Val’s leg as he came to lie at her feet. She gazed at the big dog, thinking about the mysterious rune-covered doorway on Mount Adalbern. Maybe the queen knew something about it...or about Shadow. If anyone understood concealment spells, it was the fae queen who’d grown up as a human teenager in West Brighton.

“Something on your mind, Val?” Julie asked.

Val raised her head. Questions about Shadow and the lunar prophecies hovered on her tongue, but the queen had already done so much. She didn’t want to bother her with crazy notions.

“Nope.” Val smiled and raised her glass. “Nothing.”

For once, Tetra didn’t text as Genevieve purred through Brownsville. Val realized she hadn’t seen the faerie on her phone since her return from the Iron Hills that weekend.

“Everything okay, Tetra?” she asked.

Tetra scowled. “Why wouldn’t it be? Everything is peachy.”

Val raised her eyebrows. “You haven’t spoken to Archibald since the last time we were at Vanguard, have you?”

“Nope.” Tetra folded her arms. “What’s that got to do with the price of eggs?”

“Has he ghosted you?” Val accusingly asked.

“No.” Pink spots appeared on Tetra’s cheeks. “I, uh, I blocked him.”

“Why?” Val blinked. “Did he do something creepy?”

“Creepy? Archibald? He would never.” A dreamy quality leaked into Tetra’s tone.

Val threw her hands up. “So why did you block him?”

“I have too many feelings, okay?” Tetra yelled. “I hate feelings!”

Val’s phone rang: Bianca. She answered it on the hands-free system.

“Heyyyyyy, girl!” Bianca sang. “How are you?”

“Did you tell the queen about my dad’s wedding?” Val asked.

“Sweetie, the queen and I are besties. I tell her about everything.” Bianca chuckled. “Is she coming?”

Val blushed. “Yes.”

“Fantastic. Listen, I’ve got news about your harpy problem,” Bianca added.

Val leaned forward. “I’m listening.”

“Turns out she’s more than your problem. She’s trouble for all of us.” Bianca sighed. “Addison Thomas’ real name is Calliope Galanis. She hails from the Sylthana coastline.”

Val straightened. “Does she have ties to Diana?”

“Nope, but guess who we’ve spotted her in Avalon Town with?”

Val shrugged. “No idea.”

“Niamh,” Tetra supplied.

“Hey, Tetra. Yep, she’s been seen with Niamh,” Bianca told them. “They were shopping together and toured Merlin’s Tower, but it’s not a good sign. She’s also loudly pro-death.”

“This gets better and better,” Tetra grumbled.

“We’re trying to track down her home address, but she’s proving slippery. I’ll keep you updated when we find out more. In the meantime, she’s bad news, girlfriend. Stay away,” Bianca ordered.

Val nodded. “Copy that.”

They disconnected as Val steered Genevieve into her usual spot in front of Vanguard MMA.

“Do you think she’ll be here again?” Tetra hissed.

Val touched her amulet as they strode to the door. “Nope. Amulet doesn’t feel her presence.”

Vanguard was blissfully empty of harpies when they strolled inside. Diego watched two teenage amateurs sparring, both showing promise even if the taller of the two had a gang tattoo loud and proud on his bare back.

The coach looked up as Val came in. “Hey, Val! Knee okay?”

“A hundred percent,” Val assured him.

“Great. Warm up your ankles and do a few sets of pivot drills. I’ll be with you in a moment,” Diego ordered.

Val dropped her duffle bag by the door and sat on the nearest bench to roll her ankles.

“Oh, crap,” Tetra squeaked.

“Hey, Val!” Buck boomed. He entered the gym, looking bored and sweaty, hair sticking up in all directions. Archibald and Henry followed.

“I’m not here,” Tetra announced, sprinting for the ladies’ bathroom.

“Got done with ice hockey practice and thought we’d stop by to watch you spar.” Buck flopped onto the bench beside Val, making it squeal in protest.

“How’s the knee?” Henry asked.

“It’s fine.” Val flexed it. “See? All good.”

“Hey, where’s Tetra?” Archibald wondered.

“In the bathroom,” Val supplied.

“Oh.” Archibald brightened and looked hopefully at the bathroom door.

Val jumped into her drills, aware of Henry’s attention to her knee. The cuts on her wrists and ankle were just scabs now; the bruises on her feet had faded. She couldn’t feel them as she bounced through the pivot drill. Endorphins drenched her bloodstream. She hoped she would spar with Daniel or Joe today. She needed to kick ass.

“Much better, Val.” Diego came over. “Any pain?”

“None. It’s fine.” Val smiled. “What’s on the menu today? Sparring?”

“We’ll keep it to drills until we’re sure your injury is healed.” A note of chastisement ran through Diego’s tone. “I wanted to talk to you about your first UFC fight, though.”

Val raised her head. “That’s still on the menu?”

“Of course.” Diego frowned. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

Shame burned Val’s cheeks. “Because of what happened with, you know, Addison.”

Diego laughed. “Val, you didn’t get clobbered, even on your bad knee. You held your own. That fight was nothing to be ashamed of.” He grinned. “As far as I’m concerned, there’s no harm in entering you in one of the qualifying fights in the city. You can’t expect to perform like you did at your last amateur event, but it’ll be a good experience.”

“Okay.” Val grinned. “That sounds great. Do you have a fight in mind?”

“I do. Next weekend.” Diego handed her a leaflet. “It’s an all-women’s fight at the Barclays Center. It is under UFC auspices, but it’s not a major fight, not for your first time out. It’s attracted several relatively new fighters who’ll be good matches for you.”

Val tried to ignore Buck’s and Henry’s excited squeaks. Archibald had spotted Tetra leaving the bathroom and edged around the gym toward her, dodging mats and arenas.

“Whatever you say, coach.” Val nodded. “If you think this is a good next step, let’s do it.”

“It will be a challenge,” Diego reminded her, “depending on who you draw for your match. Several pros are fighting as well. Addison Thomas will be there.”

“Addison?” Val raised her head.

Diego smiled. “You’re eager for a rematch.”

I’d like a piece of that harpy, yes. Val didn’t say it. “You could say that.”

“Good. That’s the spirit.” Diego slapped her shoulder. “I’ll speak to the event organizer. When you’re done with your pivot drills, do a few sets of grappling drills. Then you can spend ten minutes on the punching bag, but no more. Let’s see how the knee holds up.”

“Yes, coach.” Val nodded.

She stuffed the leaflet into her duffle bag and returned to the mat. Sweat soaked her tank top as she performed the solid and repetitive movements. Buck and Henry drifted to the arena to watch Joe and Daniel go through partner drills.

Archibald headed toward Tetra, who hovered by the bathroom door. The faerie dove behind a row of punching bags and almost got taken out by one of the amateur guys. She punched the bag back at him and ran away. Luckily, Diego didn’t see it.

Val moved to the edge of the mat, lay on her back, and planted her feet on the wall. She moved her feet and body left and right, pivoting on her shoulders, hands close to her face. The guard retention drill made her belly burn.

Tetra appeared on the mat, feet away. “Val, help!”

Val swung right, core on fire. “Just talk to the guy. Tell him to fuck off if that’s what you want.”

“It’s not what I want!” Tetra moaned. “That’s the problem!”

Val grunted. “Then go out with him!”

Tetra’s eyes widened as Archibald approached the mat. She dove behind a nearby group of teenagers.

Val rolled her eyes. She finished the set, took a breather to stretch her knees for Diego’s benefit, and looked around for Tetra.

The faerie was by the vending machine, so absorbed in comfort-eating a bag of cheese curls that she didn’t realize Archibald had found her until he edged beside her.

“Tetra,” he murmured, “can I talk to you for a second?”

The faerie raised her head, horrified, cheese dust sticking to her fingers.

Val chuckled. This was going to be good.

“Look, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk.” Archibald raised his hands. Though shorter than Buck and Henry, he still towered over Tetra. He was built like a brick shithouse, but his green eyes were soft and vulnerable. “Say the word, and I’ll never approach you again. I...I’m sorry if I did anything threatening. I promise it wasn’t my intention.”

“Threatening?” Tetra sucked her fingers. “Honey, you couldn’t scare me if you tried.”

Val smothered a grin.

“Oh, good. Good!” Archibald grinned. “If you don’t want to talk, just say so, and I’ll be out of here.”

Tetra glanced at Val, who gave her a thumbs-up.

The faerie’s shoulders softened. “I didn’t say that.”

“Okay.” Archibald bit his lip. “Then I’ll ask again.” He squared his shoulders, which strained his Rangers jersey. “Would you like to go out to dinner with⁠—”

“YES!” Tetra bellowed. The shout made heads turn across the gym.

Archibald blinked. “Great!” He grinned. “We could⁠—”

“Bye!” Tetra screamed, then bolted outside, leaving a confused Archibald standing by the vending machine in a shower of cheese curls and strawberry-scented faerie dust.

Val joined Tetra outside half an hour later, drills done. The faerie had sunk down in Genevieve’s passenger seat and was staring at her phone, a broad smile on her blushing face.

Val slid into the driver’s seat. “That went well.”

Tetra giggled. “Shut up!”

“When are you going?” Val asked.

“It’ll have to wait.” Tetra hugged her phone. “You have your first UFC fight this weekend and the wedding next weekend. But we’re texting again.” She beamed. “We’re making plans.”

She giggled most of the way home. It wasn’t faerie-like, but it suited her.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Val’s heart thudded in her throat.

The roaring crowd extended into the anteroom in the Barclays Center, sounding like a distant storm at sea. She wrapped her arms around herself, toes curling in her sneakers, and her hands shook harder with every whoop and whistle from the crowd. The announcer’s voice echoed through the walls.

Diego laid a hand on her shoulder. “Easy, Val. Drawing Addison as your match for this fight wasn’t ideal, but you’ve got this.”

Val nodded, unable to say a word. Stay away, Bianca had told her, but Val hadn’t been sorry to draw the harpy. She wanted to send a message to bullies on both sides of the debate.

“Your last fight didn’t go well, but remember, you’re here for the experience,” Diego assured her. “This is your first time in the UFC. Don’t worry about the outcome. Focus on your technique and your fight. Get comfortable in the environment.”

“It’s not the fight,” Val admitted.

Diego raised an eyebrow. “What’s bothering you?”

Val swallowed hard and plucked the front of her Vanguard MMA shirt. “The weigh-in.”

Diego folded his arms. “I see.”

“I’m...” Val’s cheeks burned with shame. “I didn’t prepare myself for...” She cleared her throat.

“You’ll weigh in, Val. You’re one forty-four soaking wet. You’ll be fine,” Diego reassured her.

Val ran a hand over the spiky stubble of her undercut. “I know I’ll make the weight. It’s not that. It’s⁠—”

An official popped his head around the door. “Miss Stonehold? You’re up.”

Diego laid a hand on Val’s arm and gently steered her into the yammering chaos in the main arena. A stage with a UFC backdrop and a large electronic scale swarmed with officials, referees, announcers, and beaming ring girls. Val envied the comfort with which they showed off their scantily clad bodies.

Her feet felt detached as she drifted toward the stage, Diego at her side. Distantly, she heard the announcer calling, “The undisputed champion of her last amateur fight, please welcome our UFC debutante Vaaaaaaaalerie Stonehold!”

The crowd roared. They were all looking at her. Soon, they’d be looking at far more of her than Val was comfortable with.

Her sneakers thudded on the stage. The official at the scale smiled. The ring girls posed. The crowd thundered. Val tried not to look at them, her blood rushing in her veins as she kicked off her sneakers.

“Val! Val! Val!” several people chanted near the stage.

They were all staring at her body. At her tall and scrawny and hairless body. Val gripped her shirt but couldn’t bring herself to take it off.

“You’ve got this, Val!” Tetra yelled.

Val’s gaze dipped from the milling crowd to a small crew in the front row. They all wore the green Valerie Stonehold shirts Buck and his friends had made for her last amateur fight. They led the chant, grinning and applauding.

Before her courage could forsake her, she yanked her shirt over her head and pulled off her shorts, standing in front of hundreds of people in her branded UFC underwear.

She scrambled onto the scale and stood there for several interminable seconds before the official muttered a number. Val barely heard the announcer calling her weight—one forty-three and a half—as she hustled off the scale.

Diego hadn’t understood, but now he did. He handed Val her shorts and shirt in quick succession.

“You good?” he murmured.

“Yep,” Val croaked, tugging her shirt over her head.

“One forty-four!” the announcer boomed, and the crowd went wild.

Compared with the weigh-in, facing the harpy was easy. Val turned as Addison—Calliope Galanis—stepped off the scale, grinning, her ripped figure looking like she was clad in beaten bronze. Her wings almost brushed her coach as she turned to Val. Claws flexed on her long fingers.

“Go on,” Diego murmured.

Redness seeped into the corners of Val’s vision. She couldn’t wear her amulet in the UFC ring, but she felt the familiar pulse run through her as she strode to Addison. Her hands were steady, and her bare feet took firm, sure steps.

Addison curled her hands into fists and raised them to her face. Val stopped inches from the harpy and posed for the cameras, their noses almost touching.

“I know who you are,” she whispered, staring into the harpy’s amber eyes. “I know you don’t belong here, and I will take you down.”

“You can try,” Addison hissed.

“You give Niamh my love, Calliope,” Val snarled.

Addison’s eyes flickered, and her initial surprise was replaced by fury.

The official ordered them to shake hands. Val gripped the harpy’s without fear and squeezed so hard that Addison’s eyes popped and her claws couldn’t close on Val’s skin.

“Val, our newcomer!” The announcer tried to put an arm around her shoulders, but a delicate maneuver from Diego stopped him. “Tell us how you feel about tomorrow night’s fight, your first fight in the UFC.”

Val watched Addison over his shoulder. “Great,” she growled. “I feel great.”

As she strode into the arena the following night, the crowd roaring and applauding around her, Val felt even better.

She’d worn her amulet under her sweatsuit all day, and its power still thudded in her blood. Her mouthguard creaked between her gritted teeth. Heat thrummed through her, and her vision was awash in red.

Addison waited in the arena, bouncing on the balls of her feet, talons high. Her wings rustled as she awaited Val, ripped and stunning, her magic raising goosebumps on Val’s arms.

The ring girl strutted between them, the sign for the first round held high. Val didn’t intend for there to be a second.

She bounced into the cage. Diego stepped into her corner and grabbed her shoulders. “Hey, Val. Listen to me.”

Val met his eyes.

“I like your focus,” he muttered, “but don’t let the adrenaline get to you. Okay?”

“Okay,” Val snarled.

Concern flitted over her coach’s face, but he released her, and Val turned to Addison. The crowd went ballistic as the announcer escaped the arena.

The referee was a young, muscular guy with fearless eyes. “Touch gloves,” he ordered.

Val grinned. Addison couldn’t go without gloves in front of the audience. Her talons protruded from the ruined vinyl, shorter but still deadly. Val knocked her glove against the harpy’s and met her eyes. “This is for the throne.”

“Screw you, bitch,” Addison snarled.

The referee dropped his hand. “Fight!”

Addison lunged, slashing at Val’s face. To the crowd, it looked like a haymaker. Val saw claws speeding toward her skin, so she dodged and swung a punch at Addison’s ribs. It connected hard enough to send the harpy reeling.

The crowd thundered. Val glimpsed Tetra in the front row, pale and biting her nails amid a throng of happy, oblivious humans.

Addison regained her balance fast and faced Val, eyes blazing.

“Come at me, bitch,” Val hissed. “Come at me.”

She was beyond anger and into ferocious joy, the scarlet fog fueling her as it clarified her vision and slowed time. It had been too long since she’d let loose on a paranormal enemy.

She was ready to teach this harpy a lesson about threatening innocents in Brooklyn. That was Val’s territory. She would not surrender it.

Addison came in hard, swinging kicks at Val’s belly with her clawed bare feet. Val dodged the first and blocked the second with her elbow, an automatic move after hundreds of drills, then instantly regretted it. The harpy’s sharp claws caught the delicate skin on her inner forearm and ripped. Val jerked back, aware of the blood and the mechanical feeling of tearing skin, but she felt no pain.

Addison launched another kick. Val ducked under it and grabbed her by the leg. Addison squawked in dismay as Val yanked her legs out from under her, but the harpy didn’t fall. Her wings flapped frantically, showering bronze feathers over the arena, and she landed a solid punch on Val’s nose that sent her stumbling back. The harpy’s thigh left her grasp, and Addison staggered but kept her footing.

Hot blood splashed Val’s lip. She mopped it away with her forearm and sneered through it, then roared. The wordless sound made the harpy step back.

“I don’t believe it! Thomas is still on her feet!” the announcer shrieked. “But Val Stonehold is making it clear she won’t be defeated that easily. Our newcomer is a beast!”

Addison raised her fists, seeing something in Val’s face that made her expression flicker.

Val lowered her shoulders. The scarlet fog surged, and she charged like a bull.

Addison tried to sidestep, but in the slow-motion vision of the scarlet fog, Val saw every muscle stir in her limbs before she made the movement. She subtly turned in mid-charge and hit the harpy straight on, her shoulder driving into Addison’s waist. The air left the harpy’s lungs in a heavy grunt, and Val slammed her against the cage.

The crowd shrieked. Val hoisted the harpy into the air.

“No, Val!” Diego bellowed. “No!”

Val remembered that piledrivers were against MMA rules as Addison feebly raked her back. Val turned her, trying to go for a grapple, and Addison rammed her knee into Val’s jaw.

The pain didn’t register, but the impact knocked Val half a step back and loosened her grip on Addison’s waist. The harpy twisted free and launched another kick at Val’s face. Val straightened, easily dodged the kick, and unleashed a right hook that thundered home with the power of a comet. The power of the scarlet fog.

The blow landed on Addison’s jaw, and the harpy’s head snapped back. Her eyes glazed over, and she fell like a lopped tree, then sprawled on the ground at Val’s feet.

The referee sprang between Val and Addison, slamming his hands against Val’s shoulders to hold her back. The scarlet fog screamed within her. One more blow, and she’d crush the harpy’s skull.

“Back off,” the referee yelled. “Back off!”

Val stepped away. The referee turned to Addison, who groaned but didn’t open her eyes. He gestured vigorously, and the announcer yelled what the bellowing crowd already knew. “KO! It’s a knockout, people! I don’t believe it! Newcomer Val Stonehold has won her first UFC fight in the first round with an unbelievable KO on Addison Thomas!”

The scarlet fog seeped away as the referee raised Val’s arm. Pain blossomed in her back, but it felt small and distant compared to the joy in her friends’ faces as they roared at the arena’s edge, slapping backs and hugging each other.

Tetra didn’t get caught up in the chaos. Sweat shimmered on the faerie’s forehead as she met Val’s eyes and held two thumbs up.

Val checked the bandage on her arm as she went down the stairs to the smithy. A quick trip to the para ER after last night’s fight had left her with smooth, pink scars instead of the nasty cuts from Addison’s claws, but what she remembered most about the visit was the broad smile on Dr. Olena Dovhan’s face.

“We all watched the fight on TV, you know. Word’s gotten out that Addison is a pro-death radical. When you won, everyone in the ER cheered.” Dr. Olena beamed as she directed healing purple light onto Val’s wounds. “You won more than a cage fight tonight.”

Val had asked about Shadow’s blood tests, but all Dr. Olena could tell her was that the werewolf parvovirus outbreak was still delaying non-essential tests at the lab. “We’re going to have to wait a little longer to find out what you are, dude,” she murmured, stroking Shadow’s ears.

The big dog sighed and curled up in the basket under Val’s workbench. She slid into her seat and rubbed his back with her foot as she picked up the half-finished ring she’d abandoned on Friday.

The simple wrought iron loop, size six, matched a necklace and earring set Nadia Stewart had ordered for a friend’s birthday. Being a wildly attractive human actress, Nadia had no idea that her favorite necklace contained powerful anti-pervert wards. With any luck, her friend would not know that the ring Val crafted contained a spell to neutralize roofies.

Well, it would contain that spell if she could get the runes right.

She mounted the ring and peered through her loupe, grimacing at the thin lines etched on the elegant twists of wrought iron. Weaving the delicate metal ropes into a traditional Iron Dwarven shape had been the easy part. The runes stubbornly lay as she’d etched them on Friday, exactly as she’d planned, yet giving no indication of magic.

Val turned to the notebook on the bench beside her and grimaced at the row of runes she’d written. The first few were correct: unbind, repel, destroy, specify. Combining those runes would blow apart the chemical bonds in the targeted substance. Her trouble lay with the runes that described the substance.

No Iron Dwarf had ever created a rune for Rohypnol, but using the runes for the drug’s chemical composition should work. She ran her eye over them again. Their sharp lines included the drug’s formula: oxygen, carbon, nitrogen, hydrogen, and fluoride.

“Why aren’t you working?” she growled.

Tetra had confiscated a fistful of roofies from a particularly stupid asshole in the Iron Fist a few weeks ago. Val shook one pill from the bottle and held the ring near it.

Nothing happened.

“The runes are right.” Val rechecked it. “This should work.”

Shadow raised his head at her frustrated growl. She picked up her charcoal pencil and reviewed the runic formula, reading the symbols and numbers aloud. “Carbon sixteen. Hydrogen twelve. Fluoride. Nitrogen three. Oxygen two. That’s exactly what the runes say.” Her Iron Bastion chemistry teacher would shudder at her gross oversimplification of the formula. She wasn’t saying it right but knew she’d translated it to runes correctly.

Shadow whined and laid his head on her lap.

“Not right now, big fella.” Val gently pushed his head away and held the ring to the loupe, turning it to examine every rune.

He whined again and scratched her leg with a giant paw.

“Dude! I’ll take you outside in a second. Wait.” Val tilted the ring. “Carbon, hydrogen, fluorine, nitrogen, oxy⁠—”

Shadow barked.

“Shadow, I’m serious. Shut up. Give me a second,” Val snapped.

She leaned closer to the loupe but couldn’t see any problem with the runes. Each one symbolized a chemical element or a number. Val hadn’t worked with the fluoride rune much, but she checked it against a textbook and couldn’t see a difference.

Oxygen is three.

Val straightened, looking around the smithy. “What?” she demanded aloud.

Shadow emitted a soft whine.

The words were in her head, but they didn’t sound like her. The voice was unfamiliar. When she leaned close to check her work, she realized that the rune beside oxygen should have been three, not two.

Excitement rushed through her veins. She quit wondering about the voice and focused on the runes. Gently, she rubbed the edge of her thumb over the faulty rune. The iron responded to her magic, turning the consistency of wet sand, and she smoothed the symbol away.

With the space after the oxygen rune blank, Val gripped her most delicate rune cutter, which worked with a magically enhanced laser. She peered through the loupe and applied the cutter with a steady touch, etching the familiar rune for three into the iron.

The instant she finished the rune’s last line, the amulet sang, and a crackle of magic ran over the ring like red lightning. It dissipated in a moment, leaving behind a tingle on Val’s skin.

Hands now shaking with excitement, she removed the ring from the loupe and held it close to the pill. A soft hiss rose from the blue-and-white capsule, and it burst with a puff as its components vaporized, leaving no trace of the dangerous substance.

“Whoa!” Val punched the air. “Dude, it worked. It worked!”

Shadow bounded in a circle, tail wagging, and barked.

Val lowered the ring. “You knew something was wrong with it, didn’t you?” She spoke slowly, voice hitching on every syllable. “You...you knew.”

She heard the voice saying, Oxygen is three. It sounded gruff in her head, holding the edge of...

Not a bark. It couldn’t be.

“I thought those words, right?” Val murmured.

Shadow stopped bounding and turned to face her. His swinging tail made his hips wiggle as he gazed into her eyes, looking at her like she’d hung the moon and stars.

“Shadow.” Val gripped the loose skin beneath his ears with both hands. “If you can talk, talk to me. I’m here. I’m listening.” Her voice cracked. “I love you.”

Shadow’s tail wagged on, but his friendly brown eyes were inscrutable. No magic voice spoke in her head.

She released him. That triggered mad zoomies, and he shot up the stairs with a yelp. She heard his paws thundering like a cavalry unit on the floor above as he raced from room to room, growling in excitement.

“Am I going nuts?” she asked the smithy.

No answers came.

“Merlin’s asshole.” Val straightened. “I need a beer.”

She opened a beer for Tetra, too. The bottle stood forgotten on the coffee table before the TV. On the screen, Aang dove underwater, bubbles streaking as his skills propelled him.

Val observed, “Kinda like a Lunar Fae commanding the elements.”

“Shut up!” Tetra hissed.

Shadow lay in her lap, apparently not caring that the faerie gripped two fistfuls of his fur and skin, squeezing with every thrilling moment of the story.

She gasped when Aang came face to face with the great lion turtle. “Whoa!” Tetra whispered. “So majestic!”

“His face looks funny,” Val commented.

“Your face looks funny. Shhh!” Tetra ordered.

Val chuckled. She swigged the last drops of her beer and got to her feet to acquire more.

“Valerie Stonehold, if you walk in front of this television right now—” Tetra hissed.

“Okay, okay.” Val laughed. “Want another beer?”

“Shhhh!” Tetra snarled.

Val kept her usual snarky comment that it was “only a kids’ show” for the credits. She headed to the kitchen and fished in the fridge for another bottle from the Anvil Brewery six-pack, a new product they’d recently released. Val had gone to the liquor store to buy a six-pack, thinking she should do her part to support the brewery, and she was lucky to snag the last one from the shelf.

A phone rang as Val opened the bottle with her teeth.

“Tetra, your phone’s ringing,” she yelled.

“Not mine.” Tetra looked up from the rolling credits and waved her phone, grinning. “I’m texting Archibald.”

“Oh? What does he say?” Val pulled out her phone to make sure.

Tetra giggled. “We’re finalizing plans for our date next weekend. Whose phone is that?”

Val frowned. “It’s not mine.” She froze. “Shit. Riptide’s burner.”

Tetra hurried into the kitchen as Val grabbed the burner from its spot beside the toaster. On the little green screen, an unknown number with an Avalonian area code showed up.

Val raised it to her ear. “Who is this?”

“You know who it is, Dame Eiravel,” Riptide hissed.

Val nodded briskly at Tetra, but it was unnecessary. The faerie had her phone out and showed Val that she was dialing Liam.

“I don’t have much time,” Riptide rasped. “There’s trouble ahead. Diana’s gone much too far.”

“Tell me where you are,” Val requested.

“This is not the time for you to attempt spying on me, Eiravel!” Riptide snapped. “Thousands, even millions of lives are at stake. Don’t waste time trying to find me. This number is heavily warded anyway.”

Val put the phone on speaker and laid it on the counter, holding a finger to her lips. Riptide kept talking as Tetra silently snapped a pic and sent it to Liam.

“Diana gave us orders to attack a new target. She’s leading the raid,” he went on.

Val returned the phone to her ear. “What’s the target?”

Riptide dithered. “I do not wish to betray my leader. You must understand that I don’t want to see her arrested. I just want to see other paras safe.”

“That’s always our priority. Tell me what the target is,” Val ordered.

“Merlin’s nose hairs!” Riptide was silent.

“Riptide?” Val demanded. “What’s the target?”

“She’s coming. I can’t… Yes, Your Majesty!” Riptide rapped.

The line went dead. Val lowered the phone in dismay. “Shit!”

“Liam, he hung up,” Tetra informed him. Her phone was on speaker.

“Try to get him back, Val. I don’t have an accurate location yet,” Liam ordered. “Qenzi’s working on it too.”

Val redialed the number. After a few seconds that went on for eternity, her only reward was a beep.

“Crap. It’s not even going to voicemail, just disconnecting,” she growled.

“The call wasn’t long enough to get an exact location. Hold on. Qenzi’s helping.” A furious rush of typing followed Liam’s words.

“Shit’s going down wherever she is. Let’s arm up,” Val commanded.

Tetra nodded.

“I’ll call you in a second, Val.” Liam disconnected.

The faerie sprinted to her apartment to change, and Val slapped the ruby on her armband. Dwarf-forged armor unfolded from the heavy metal band and spread across her body, as light as air and stronger than Kevlar. Val enjoyed making jewelry and weapons more. Armor was Frode’s department, and the suit wrapped around his daughter’s body was a masterpiece.

She checked the band on her left arm, a large disc that unfolded into a shield, then grabbed her dagger’s belt from the hook by the door. Her thoughts flitted to the fae-forged katana on the wall in her smithy, but she gripped the dagger’s familiar hilt and decided against it, hoping she wasn’t making a terrible mistake.

When Val’s phone rang, Tetra returned to the kitchen, wearing the mailvest Val had crafted and heavy boots.

“Liam, what did you find?” Val asked.

“I’m texting Tetra the location. It’s not exact, only a trace to the nearest cell tower, but Qenzi said you might recognize it,” Liam breathlessly told them. “She’s asking if you want to alert the agency.”

Tetra pulled out her phone, and her jaw slackened in shock.

“Where?” Val demanded. “Where is it?”

“Looks like North Africa,” Liam hazarded.

Tetra held up her phone, violently shaking her head.

Val put Liam on mute. “Where is it?”

“In the southern part of the Resurrected Woods,” Tetra quavered.

Cold claws raked Val’s heart. “Merlin’s torsioned testicles.”

“Yeah.” Tetra swallowed. “The Locker is in that area.”

“The most secure facility in Avalon.” Val gulped. “Where half the Wild Hunt is imprisoned.”

“Including...” Tetra hesitated. “Kronos.”

“If Diana wants to discredit the queen, there’s no better way than to release the Wild Hunt. Thousands of paranormals will die, and millions more will turn away from Julie. They’ll be more open to accepting a Sylthana ruler,” Val croaked.

“She can’t release Kronos.” Tetra’s shoulders tightened. “Can she?”

“Probably not. He’s in the highest-security part of the Locker. But there are others, Tetra. There are so many others.” Val shivered.

“Should I tell Qenzi to get the OPMA involved?” Tetra asked.

“This goes beyond the OPMA. Tell Liam we’re heading to Riptide’s location. I’m calling the queen.” Val hung up on Liam and dialed Julie’s personal number.

Side by side, Val and Tetra strode to the garage. Val tuned out Tetra’s conversation with Liam as Julie’s phone rang.

“Hey, Val!” the queen chirped. “Sorry about that. We were in the middle of a diaper change. It’s complicated on a blimp. What’s up?”

“A-a blimp, Your Majesty?” Val croaked.

“Yeah. We crossed the border of the drow lands a moment ago. We’re heading home after a symposium at the Dark Citadel.” Julie paused. “Something’s wrong.”

Val gulped. “Yes, Your Majesty. I have a...contact within Diana’s organization.”

“Whoa, hold up.” Julie spluttered. “How’d you manage that?”

“It doesn’t matter right now, Your Majesty. He’s a lieutenant with her group, and we have a deal to agree to disagree except on one thing—endangering innocent lives. He agreed to call me if he felt Diana was putting innocents in danger.”

Julie grunted. “And he called you.”

“Yes. Liam and Qenzi traced the call to a location near the Locker. We’re afraid⁠—”

“Shit,” Julie growled. “She’s trying to set the Wild Hunt free.”

“That’s our fear too.”

“Crap. I can’t get there now. The Gleann is warded against portals. It’ll be a few hours before I can. Val, get your ass to the NYHQ and portal to the Locker,” Julie barked. “I’ll have Bianca join you at the portal room with a team. Search those woods and find Diana. Now!”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Val threw herself into Genevieve, Tetra beside her.

“Get your guy to keep trying to trace that phone,” Julie commanded.

Tetra shook her head. “He’s trying, but the battery’s been taken out.”

“Or melted,” Val observed. “You hear that, ma’am?”

“I heard. Go,” Julie ordered. “You’ll need to search the woods. I want your boots on the ground, Val. That lieutenant trusts you.”

Val’s heart sank into her guts. “I should have told you⁠—”

Julie cut her off. “So do I.”

Val froze as Genevieve started.

“Your Majesty, there’s one thing. It’s important,” Val croaked.

“What?”

“Liam. He thinks the Locker is in North Africa. If we get there in half an hour, he’ll know something’s up.”

Julie sighed. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“Copy that, ma’am.”

“Gennie, move your ass,” Julie ordered.

The gas pedal disappeared under Val’s foot.

“Door!” Tetra yelled.

The Mustang punched through the garage door, folding it like aluminum foil, and bellowed down the street with her tach’s needle bucking like a wild horse.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Bianca’s unit beat Val and Tetra to the Resurrected Woods. The portal room was empty when they ran inside, Shadow bounding at Val’s heels, except for an old goblin woman running a mop across the shiny wooden floor.

“Muddy footprints!” she complained between toothless lips. “Those soldiers and their muddy footprints!”

“Ma’am, where did—” Val began.

“There.” The goblin pointed at a portal on her left. “Probably come back with muddy feet, too. Wipe your boots when you come home. Got it?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Val resisted the urge to salute.

She drew her dagger as they jogged to the portal.

“I hate these,” Tetra moaned.

Val stepped through the shimmering window into the woods. Dizziness made the ground buck beneath her feet for a second. When her vision cleared, she and Tetra, who was gagging, stood in a wood so verdant and vivid that Val barely noticed the enormous fortress. She only saw the splendor of towering trees that dripped moss and vines, undergrowth studded with wildflowers, and exotic fruits hanging like gems among the leaves.

“Right on time, Val!” Bianca chirped.

Val tore her attention from the forest and concentrated on the facility. She faced its open portcullis, the heavy iron gleaming with runes and newness as it rose with the clanks of massive chains. The guards’ spears and bows bristled from the battlements.

Warriors in navy uniforms and ultramodern body armor marched beneath the portcullis, carrying automatic rifles and bearing swords. Bianca stood to one side, unarmed, her golden curls glowing in the dying light. Three werewolves and a slender Shajara Elf, her skin the color of bark, surrounded her.

“Any luck tracing his phone?” Bianca asked.

Tetra slipped an earpiece into her ear. “I’ll call him.”

Val’s gut clenched. “What are you going to tell him?”

“To suck it up and save his questions for later.” Tetra stepped aside.

Val approached Bianca’s group as the last few soldiers passed beneath the portcullis. Her dwarven eyes read the fortress’ history. The lower parts of its walls consisted of hand-cut stone mined and shaped without dwarven magic—the native granite of this region. Above that, sandstone ascended into the battlements. Someone had recently rebuilt this place.

Bianca followed her gaze. “Was a ruin until last year. Yondal rebuilt it to keep the Locker safer after we captured half the Wild Hunt.”

“This is Lockerfell?” Val asked.

“That’s right.” Bianca nodded.

Yondal was the High King of all dwarves. Val had only seen pictures of him, but if he’d chosen the stonemasons for Lockerfell, he knew his shit.

Tetra reapproached. “Um, he wants to talk to you.”

Val touched her earpiece. “Lee?”

“Val, what is going on?” Liam demanded. “How are you in Africa already? What⁠—”

“I’ll explain when we get back,” Val told him. “Right now, I need you to focus, or thousands of innocent people could die.”

Liam was silent.

“Please, Lee.” Val gritted her teeth.

“Okay.” Liam exhaled. “No, I can’t get a trace. His phone was destroyed. I’m sorry.”

“Okay. Stay on the line.” Val turned to Tetra. “We—” She stopped.

Bianca’s companions knelt before Tetra. The three werewolves and the elf held up their swords in salute. Tetra stared at them, open-mouthed.

“I’m not who you think I am,” she managed.

The elf rose. Her long black braids swayed below her hips as she moved. “You are the adopted daughter of the faerie king, aren’t you?”

“Exiled,” Tetra croaked. “Disgraced. For good reason.”

“Nonetheless, he’s your father.” The elf bowed her head. “I’m Jae, and these are Teddy, Noah, and Austin. We served with your father in the Griffin unit and later in the queen’s honor guard. He sacrificed everything for the Eternity Throne and the dream of peace and unity for all paras. We will honor him in every way we can as long as we live.”

The werewolves nodded.

“Okay.” Tetra cleared her throat. “Please get up.”

The werewolves obeyed.

“They’re right.” Bianca smiled. “The faerie dad—that’s what we called him since we didn’t know he was king then—did so much for all paras and people. I’m not kneeling, though.”

“Didn’t expect you to,” Tetra muttered.

“Let’s go in. We’ll finalize our preparations in the war room.” Bianca jerked her head toward the fortress. “My hellhound and brownie search units are tracking Sylthana scent in the woods. They’ll have a location for us in a few minutes.”

Val’s phone buzzed as she followed the OPMA soldiers into the fortress, but she didn’t have time to check it. The scarlet fog trembled in the corners of her vision. She felt she needed it.

The rectangular war room at Lockerfell’s heart had supporting pillars, and a tall statue rose in the shape of a wolf in its center. Dwarven hands had carved the sandstone with such finesse that the wolf’s coat looked soft enough to stroke. Ten times life size, it towered over the room, head raised, ears pricked, tail curved to one side as though captured mid-wag. Its stance, with both forelegs raised, suggested it was leaping forward.

A golden plaque on the statue’s pedestal read Chester, Hero of Lockerfell. We will never forget. The queen’s seal followed the words.

Jae and the werewolves stopped before the statue, ignoring the soldiers milling by a stone table on the other side of the hall. Val eyed the flickering hologram above the table but respected Jae and her companions enough to hang back as they laid their hands on the statue’s pedestal.

“He would have loved to see the world the way it is now,” Teddy whispered.

Noah wrapped an arm around his shoulders. Jae pressed close to Austin, tears shimmering in her dark eyes. They were all armed to the teeth, but their greatest strength lay in how they gazed at the statue and held each other, not in the weapons they bore.

After a few seconds of silence, Teddy stepped back and dried his eyes. “C’mon. Let’s go kick ass for him,” he growled.

Val, Shadow, and Tetra followed them to the stone table. The hologram displayed a three-dimensional map of the woods. A road ran through it, ending in the clearing Lockerfell overlooked from its clifftop. The Locker stood in the clearing’s center, a large, rectangular building with small windows and towering walls topped with barbed wire. Val recognized the wall from videos of protests. Green dots moved through the woods in neat units, occasionally vanishing from the hologram and reappearing a short distance away.

“Those are the brownie and hellhound units. The hellhounds have unparalleled tracking abilities, and the brownies create portals just big enough to squeeze the hellhounds through,” Bianca explained, pointing at the green dots. “A brainwave from Shulme.”

Val vaguely remembered the name as another of the heroes in the Third Pendragon War but couldn’t remember the para’s face. “They’re looking for the elves?”

The green dots all vanished and reappeared a mile from the clearing.

Bianca clenched her fists, red light seeping between her fingers. “They’ve found them. Get Liam to link your comm to ours. They’ll report in a moment.”

“Got that, Liam?” Val asked.

“Qenzi and I are on it.” Liam furiously typed, then stopped. “Wait, how do those comms of yours work? It looks like...brainwaves!”

“Questions later,” Tetra snapped.

“Okay, okay.” Liam shakily exhaled. “You’re linked.”

Val, Tetra, do you copy? Bianca’s lips didn’t move, but Val heard her.

Telepathy? Val sent.

We use telechips. Major Barkbeacon, report, Bianca ordered.

As Val expected, the hellhound had a low, growling voice. Targets located. Three miles from the clearing and closing fast. Twenty chimeras with riders. One winged. Scent profile matches Diana.

Good. Get your asses out of there. Bianca turned to the group. Let’s roll, people! Val, Tetra, you’re with Jae, Austin, Noah, and Teddy.

Stick with us. Jae cocked her rifle with striking ease for someone wearing a combat medic’s vest over her body armor.

Bianca spread her leathery wings and leaped. She swooped effortlessly out of the war room, and the soldiers formed into neat ranks behind her and set off with efficient swiftness. The quadrupeds led the way, centaurs and Weres in their animal forms, including Jae’s three wolf companions. Jae kept pace with them in an effortless run.

Val drew her dagger and raced after the elf, avoiding the tidy ranks around her.

Nobody said there’d be running, she thought bitterly.

You know we can all hear you, right? Tetra chipped in.

Crap. Sorry. Val groaned.

Jae laughed. It’s not far.

What do you mean, it’s not far? Tetra asked. We have to get to the clearing. How will we go down the cliff?

Jae flashed a brilliant smile. You’ll see.

Ah, shit. Tell me we’re not flying, Val moaned.

Bianca led them through the castle’s heart. Ahead, an open door revealed daylight and a dizzying blue sky.

No ground. It opened onto the towering cliff overlooking the Locker.

Shit, shit, shit. The only thing Val hated more than running was heights.

Shadow bayed in excitement, staying close to her knee.

“Stay with me, dude,” Val yelped.

“He’ll be fine,” Jae called. “Trust me!”

She reached the doorway and jumped.

It was too late to stop, given the crush of paras behind her. Val sheathed her dagger and grabbed Shadow’s collar, and then her feet left the ground.

Shadow yelped. Tetra whooped, and Val dragged Shadow into her arms and screamed as they plummeted⁠—

Claws. Huge claws closed around Val’s body. She screamed again, wrapping Shadow tightly in her arms to protect him, but the claws held them lightly. She clung to them as the roc soared over the Locker’s clearing. It was one of dozens of eagle-like birds bigger than pegasi or griffins carrying the OPMA soldiers.

“Woohooooooo!” Tetra screamed, spreading her arms as her short hair whipped around her face. One roc carried her and Val. Its feathers were a rich gold, and its cry ripped the air, piercing and musical yet thundering with rage.

Val spat a stream of curses and clung to Shadow. “Where did they come from?”

“Back there. Huge doors in the cliff.” Tetra laughed. “This is brilliant!”

“Brilliant” wasn’t the word Val would have used, but she forced herself to focus as the rocs swooped above the Locker. Several soldiers brushed the building’s wards with their boots, leaving purple streaks in the air.

The rocs dove for the ground on the other side of the clearing.

“Oh, yeah!” Tetra whooped.

“Oh, nooooooooooooooooo,” Val wailed.

What’s happening? Liam demanded. What are those things?

Her belly roiled as the roc angled down. Shadow’s lolling tongue slapped her in the face. He seemed to equate this with a car ride, not a near-death experience. Val buried her face in his fur and hung on tight as her stomach turned cartwheels and the wind shrieked past her, howling in her armor’s crannies and her helm’s eye slit.

“Val, open your eyes!” Tetra yelled. “We’re landing!”

They were not landing; they were crashing. When the rocs’ wings brushed the grass, they opened their claws. The soldiers fell six feet and landed running.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit!” Val screamed.

The roc opened its claws, and Tetra whooped again. Val clung to Shadow, her stomach hitting the roof of her mouth as she dropped. She landed hard, stumbling, and dropped the dog. He landed on his feet and sprinted after Tetra.

Bianca hovered in front as wave after wave of rocs dropped soldiers. Each landed perfectly and jogged into position. With solid ground under her feet, Val quit dry-heaving and formed up between Jae and Tetra in the front line.

The succubus raked her troops with a glance, then turned to the woods.

Liam, how far are they? she demanded.

I don’t know what I’m looking at on this screen since I’m guessing it’s not thermal imaging, Liam grumbled.

Liam! Val barked.

Fine! Half a mile and closing! Liam snapped.

“Hold!” Bianca roared, raising her clenched fists. Swirls of angry red magic surrounded them.

Val shook her left arm, and her shield unfolded with a clank. She raised the reassuring circle of faerrous steel until it almost touched her nose and slipped into a fighting stance.

Keep your base close, Val. She heard Diego’s voice in her head and corrected her posture.

Shadow snarled and bayed. The wolves joined him, clamoring and howling, their hackles up on their backs.

“Hold!” Bianca yelled again. “Give them the chance to talk!”

It became apparent that the elves had no such desire when blue flames surged through the forest.

Bianca deflected them with a blast of red magic, and the winged white chimera bounded through the scorched trees into the clearing. Its three heads hissed, roared, and coughed fire. Its rattle-tipped tail lashed its hairy haunches, and its four feet—two cloven hooves, two lion paws—ripped chunks from the damp earth as it sprinted toward the OPMA line. Diana’s blue eyes burned above dark war paint. She brandished a spear that had blue flames streaming from its head.

“Charge!” Bianca roared.

She dove at Diana. Val flung herself into a run as the OPMA line surged forward. Shadow and the werewolves streaked ahead, fur rippling as they bolted toward the elves and chimeras charging them.

Shadow reached the enemy first, and his jaws snapped shut on a chimera’s front leg. They went down together, fur flying, and the scarlet fog dropped over Val’s vision like a curtain.

Val reached them as the chimera’s snake head struck at Shadow, who wrestled with the lion’s head fang to fang. She effortlessly slashed her dagger through the snake’s neck and dealt the goat’s head a kick that shattered its jaw. Fire spilled from its bloody, ruined mouth, and Val dove between the goat’s head and Shadow, shielding her companion. The flames rippled harmlessly over the faerrous steel.

The chimera’s last roar ended in a gurgling moan as Shadow’s fangs ripped the leonine throat out. The giant creature slumped to the ground, dead. Gunshots rang out around them, as did barks and roars and the whooshes of swords slashing. An elf staggered past, screaming and clawing at his melting face, faerie dust sparkling on his bubbling skin.

There was no time to look around for Tetra. Something clattered on Val’s armored leg. She looked down to see the chimera’s rider, trapped beneath his mount’s carcass, striking her legs with his scimitars. The elf-forged blades didn’t even dent the dwarven armor. Val dealt him a kick to the temple that knocked him cold.

Shadow growled, plunged off the dead chimera, and charged a nearby elf who wielded dual tongues of fire like many-tailed whips. When he struck at Tetra, they swirled and roared around him, forming a blue vortex. She countered with fire-retardant faerie dust that blew short-lived holes in his defense. The tip of a flame lashed her mailvest, and she jumped back with a hiss of pain.

Shadow’s snarl made the elf whirl. The dog halted, blue fire reflecting from his shining coat, and Val sprinted past him. The elf tensed, but Val hid her face behind her shield and ran at him at full speed.

Val’s shield slammed into the elf’s face, and blood sprayed her helmet. He went down so fast that she nearly fell over him.

“Whoa!” Tetra jumped out of the way. “Don’t squash me!”

A chimera reared, teeth and claws raised. “Behind you!” Val thundered.

She raised her blade to join the fight as Tetra shot caustic dust into the chimera’s eyes, but the clang of a scimitar on her backplate made her spin. A masked Sylthana Elf, white robe swirling over his armor, drew back his scimitars for another blow.

Val slammed the shield’s edge into his wrist. One scimitar flew from his grasp, and he barely blocked her dagger as she slashed at his neck.

“Eiravel!” he gasped. When he staggered back, he almost tripped over his dead comrade. Val’s shield had knocked the elf’s brains out of his head.

Val hesitated, dagger still raised. “Riptide?”

“Fight me or she’ll know!” he hissed.

Val stepped close, struggling to hold back the scarlet fog as she carefully launched blows at Riptide’s chest. His chimera danced behind him, screeching and tossing its heads, but it didn’t attack her. Shadow snarled and lunged at its paws.

Val didn’t call him off. “What’s she doing here?”

“I’m sorry. I had to burn my phone. Diana almost caught me.” Riptide grunted as he blocked Val’s blow and slashed at her knees.

She dodged and caught his second blow on the shield’s edge. “She’s trying to set the Hunters free, isn’t she?”

“Yes.” Riptide ducked her dagger. “She’ll kill thousands of paras, but she believes it’ll discredit the queen and make way for her to take the throne.”

“Shit,” Val growled.

“I wish to see an elf on the throne.” Riptide stomped on her foot with a nearly comical clang of metal, then hopped back, hissing.

“But you don’t want it to happen like this,” Val finished.

“No. Innocent lives shouldn’t be sacrificed for her ambition.” Riptide recovered and sent a fireball at her face.

Val deflected it with the shield. “We guessed that was the goal. Who’s her specific target? Kronos?”

“No.” Riptide’s scimitar clanged on Val’s dagger, and sparks flew from both blades. “She knows we can’t get to him. There are minor Hunters in the outer cells near the courtyard. Those are her targets.”

“Crap. Thanks.” Val twisted her blade, almost disarming the elf. His scimitar wobbled in his hand. “Let me arrest you and take you in. You’ll be safe.”

“Diana suspects nothing…yet.” Riptide jumped back as Val slashed at his throat. “I will not join you.”

He sprang onto his chimera and galloped to another part of the battle. Shadow launched a parting snap at the chimera’s hind leg and narrowly avoided taking a flying hoof to the face.

“Shadow, come!” Val yelled.

No time to go after Riptide or even think about him. Scarlet throbbed in her vision like a heartbeat when Tetra screamed. The chimera’s snake jaws struck her mailvest. The fangs scraped the chain mail, and it lifted her off the ground and shook her like a toy.

“Hey!” Val roared.

With Shadow by her side, she sprinted toward the chimera. Its lion and goat heads turned toward them. She flipped her dagger in her hand and struck the chimera’s chest point first. The blade pierced the creature’s ribcage, bone shattering under the steel, and plunged in until Val felt the thump of its heart and twisted. The creature crumpled as she wrenched her arm from its body, blood drenching her to the elbow.

Tetra landed on her feet and brushed venom off her vest. “Shit, Val. Remind me not to piss you—” Her eyes widened. “Oh, crap! Diana!”

Val raised her head, following the faerie’s pointing finger. Diana’s winged chimera soared over the battle, blood streaking its coat. The elf hunched over its necks, driving it toward the Locker.

“She’s going for the Hunters!” Val roared. “Where’s Bianca?”

Tetra pointed; the succubus was a swirling red vortex amid a crush of elves and chimeras.

“What about the rocs?” Val cried.

Tetra groaned. “They’re bloody giant eagles, Val. They only show up when it’s convenient to the plot.”

Liam! Val yelled into her telechip.

Bianca’s not responding. She’s too hard-pressed. The...the giant bird things... Liam’s voice trailed off, then resumed. They’re fetching more soldiers from the, um, the fortress.

Val twisted, searching the sky, and spotted them circling Lockerfell as OPMA reinforcements swarmed toward the door. Too far.

“Who else can fly?” Tetra yelled.

Val turned to her, heart hammering. “You can.”

Tetra froze.

“I could give your wings back,” Val told her, “but it might hurt.”

Tetra barked, “Do it!”

Val nodded and laid a hand on Tetra’s shoulder. Shadow snarled and circled them, keeping enemies at bay.

“Tetra, grow your wings,” Val ordered.

The faerie cried out. Bone crunched horrifically in her back. Val grabbed her shoulders, frightened, but Tetra pushed her away and ripped off her mailvest. Her groan of agony became a roar of exhilaration, and wings that spread wider than her arms bloomed from her shoulders, translucent and shimmering. Faerie dust trickled from their edges, which were ragged like a wasp’s.

“Yeah!” Tetra roared, wings buzzing.

“Here.” Val grabbed the vest and sent a surge of iron magic through it. Two long slits for her wings appeared. “Put this on and go after her!”

Tetra pulled the mailvest over her head, wings jutting through it, then crouched. She sprang into the air and zoomed away, pursuing the white chimera as it flew toward the Locker.

“C’mon, Shadow!” Val shouted.

She sprinted through the crush, dodging gunfire as the OPMA soldiers charged past her toward the mass of elves and chimeras still spilling from the woods. Some yelled or shoved her in surprise.

Make way! Make way! Liam yelled into the telechip. Everyone, look! Diana’s heading for the Locker!

Val would have smirked at his word choice if the scarlet fog allowed humor. All it gave her now was speed, strength, and vision so clear that even through the chaos of soldiers, she saw Tetra flitting toward the chimera. The beast’s wings lumbered compared with Tetra’s, and she quickly gained on it.

Val broke through the line into a paved parking area between the forest and the Locker. Its wire-topped walls blocked the sun.

Diana was feet from the walls when Tetra caught up.

The first blast of faerie dust obliterated the feathers of the chimera’s left wing. The creature tilted, screeching, and Diana slipped out of the saddle. She cried out, clutching her spear in one hand, and grabbed the chimera’s snake neck with the other. Kicking over the long drop to the ground as she dangled, Diana tried to pull herself back into the saddle.

Tetra fired a blast of caustic dust at Diana’s hand, scorching an ugly wound, and Diana let go with a scream.

The chimera swooped toward her. Tetra grabbed its tail, caustic dust billowing from her hands, and faerie and chimera tumbled toward the ground.

Liam, send reinforcements to help Tetra! Val bellowed, redoubling her pace as Diana tumbled toward the pavement at the Locker’s gate. I’m going after Diana!

Feet from the ground, the Sylthana Elf shot blasts of blue fire from both hands. The flames slowed her fall like a jet pack and she landed on her feet with a thud, barely stumbling. She raised her blazing spear toward the ward.

“No!” Val shouted from feet away.

Panicked guards swarmed on the Locker’s walls. Arrows rained toward Diana, but she incinerated them with a sweep of one hand. She raised her spear with the other and slashed a glowing purple hole in the ward.

The spear’s head cut through the military wards like butter. Diana stepped forward, but Shadow reached her first.

The dog’s jaws clamped on the spear’s haft. Diana yelled and spun, fire blooming from her free hand. Shadow jumped back with a yelp, and the smell of singed fur filled the air. Val slammed her shield into Diana’s chest. “Shadow, stay back!”

The elf staggered but regained her footing with impressive speed. She slashed the spear toward Val’s face. Blue flames trailed from its tip. Val blocked it with the shield and slashed at Diana’s belly, but the elf’s free hand slammed into her chest in an arc of blue fire. Val’s shield was fireproof; her armor was not. She felt the heat on her skin but no pain.

Val roared and slammed her helmeted forehead into Diana’s face. The elf stumbled back, blood spraying from a cut on her cheek, but followed up with a thrust of her spear. Val slapped it aside with the shield, the impact reverberating up her arm, and kicked at Diana’s hip with all her strength.

The elf dodged. Val stumbled off-balance a moment too long, and Diana directed a tongue of flame at Val’s face.

She raised the shield, but the fire drove her back, licking around the shield’s edges. The heat seared her belly and head.

Tetra, Val needs help! Liam cried.

Bully for her. I’ve got my hands full! Tetra yelped.

The fiery explosion petered out. Val lowered her shield and ducked with reflexes honed at Vanguard MMA. Diana’s spear slid off her helmet, narrowly missing her face as it drove past her. Val threw herself aside and rolled to her feet.

Diana stepped back, ready with the spear, but Val rushed her and slashed the dagger at her. White fabric ripped as the blade pierced her robes, and Diana yelled. Blood streaked the blade when Val withdrew it. She moved in again, and Diana launched a roundhouse kick that trailed blue fire. It scorched Val’s belly and made her hesitate long enough that Diana swung the spear at her.

Val had had enough of that cursed spear. She swung her shield with a bellow, throwing her dwarven strength behind it. The shield’s edge met the spear’s haft with a force that should have shattered it, but the impact just wrenched the weapon from Diana’s hand. It hit the grass several yards away.

Diana’s head turned to follow it, but Val rushed her, shield and dagger at the ready. Diana yanked a scimitar from its scabbard and blocked, then blocked again as Val rained blow after blow upon her, forcing her back.

Reinforcements on the way, Val. Hold on! Liam called.

Diana cried out, smoke rising from her hands as she struggled to keep Val at bay. With every blow Val landed on the elf’s scimitar, she staggered back a few more feet. At last, she faltered. Val’s shield collided with her shoulder, and the scimitar dropped from her numb hands.

Val’s dagger stopped inches from Diana’s throat. “I’ll give you one second to surrender,” she snarled.

The elf’s blue eyes flashed. “Never!”

Look out! Liam cried.

Blue fire blossomed from the elf’s hands, rushed up her shoulders, and engulfed her torso. Its heat seared Val’s eyes, forcing her back, and the blue flames covered Diana’s entire body.

The elf threw her head back and laughed as the blue fire covered her face. Her eyes blazed unchanged.

“Come on, clod!” she roared. “Come and fight me!”

Val gritted her teeth. The slur made the scarlet fog burn brighter, and she charged.

CHAPTER TWENTY

Diana thrust both hands forward like Superman but didn’t take flight. Instead, twin blasts of blue fire surged toward Val. She dodged one and raised her shield to block the other in the nick of time. Off-balance and ducking, she had no chance of keeping her feet. The fire slammed into her shield so hard that it spun from Val’s grasp, wrenching her shoulder as the leather snapped and her shield sailed out of reach. She hit the ground, rolled to her feet, and extended her hand. Iron power called to the shield, and it snapped back into her hand.

The second blast of fire struck the shield dead on and sent her flying.

She landed on her back, dizzy, with the smell of burning hair and charred skin in her nostrils. Her vision was a blurred mess of paving, sky, and blue fire.

Diana strode toward her, laughing, a tower of flame. “Not so tough now, are you, dwarf?” She raised her hands, and a bolt of red magic fell from the sky like lightning, slammed into Diana, and threw her twenty feet. She landed with a bone-cracking thud on the pavement, plowing a deep hole in the surface.

“You girls were fighting without me?” The thumps of leathery wings heralded Bianca’s arrival, and she touched down on high-heeled boots with hardly a sound. “I’m offended.”

The succubus’ wild hair blazed around her head like golden flames. She raised fists engulfed in swirls of red magic. Diana got up slowly. Her blue fire had gone out, and she clutched her right arm to her side, her eyes baleful.

“Give up, Diana,” Bianca yelled. “There’s more where that came from, and you’re not getting into the Locker. Not today.”

Val rolled to her knees, her vision clearing. OPMA soldiers stood several ranks deep at the Locker’s gate, encircling Diana with guns, weapons, and fangs at the ready.

Diana hissed and clenched her undamaged fist. Blue fire gathered on her fingers. “I will never surrender to a moon queen!”

“Whatever.” Bianca shrugged and raised her hands. “Have it your way.”

The chimera’s triple-voiced shriek cut through Bianca’s words as it swooped from the sky, wobbling wildly because of its damaged wing, and seized Diana by the arms.

“Shoot it down!” Bianca roared.

No, wait! Liam yelled. The eagles!

Rocs filled the sky. The soldiers lowered their weapons as the rocs descended on the chimera, but Diana sent a blast of flame into one, and its wings caught fire. Screeching, the roc tumbled, leaving a gap wide enough for the chimera to swoop through.

“No!” Val growled.

Rocs, pull back! Bianca ordered.

But ma’am— one squawked.

Get your asses back to your cliff right now! Bianca yelled. You’re screwing with the line of fire!

The eagles fluttered off, their wings churning up dust devils around Val and the others. She anxiously searched the sky.

Nearby, Jae shook her head. “She’s gone. Even my elf eyes can’t see her.”

Bianca turned to a vampire major on the front lines. “Dispatch a hellhound unit. Track that elf!”

Val got up, scanning the nearby faces. Her heart squeezed for a second before Tetra elbowed through the crowd, shoving several well-armed werewolves out of the way. Her wings sparkled.

“Wow, those eagles are idiots,” she announced.

Bianca groaned. “Tell me about it. Julie believes they can be taught to take orders, but I doubt it.”

“Tetra,” Val growled, staggering toward her. “You okay?”

Shadow appeared at Tetra’s side, tail wagging despite his scorched fur.

“We’re good. Sorry the chimera got away,” Tetra offered.

Val turned to Bianca. “The Locker⁠—”

“Safe.” The succubus grinned. “All prisoners accounted for. Half the elves beat it, and we’ve got others in custody.”

Val’s shoulders sagged in relief.

Um, you guys? Liam chipped in. I’m thrilled you’re all okay, but I have questions. He paused. So many questions.

“Oh, crap,” Bianca commented. “I forgot he was human.”

Wait, what? Liam demanded. What else would I be?

Bianca grimaced. “Whoops.”

“Tell him already,” Tetra whined.

Bianca raised her hands. “Nuh-uh. Don’t involve me. Julie has to make that call. It has to come directly from the queen.”

The what? Liam squawked.

Val pulled out her phone, which had another crack in it. Battles were hard on iPhones. She searched for Queen Julia’s contact and saw she had received a text from the queen.

Val—he’s earned it. J.

The text had an attachment. Val opened it and blinked. Though it was a PDF file, its edges curled like a royal scroll’s. The queen’s seal glowed above the words.

I, Eternity Queen Julia Artura Pendragon, do hereby give permission for the human Liam Miller to be as one of us. No secrets shall be withheld from him in repayment for services rendered to the paranormal world. By royal decree.

Her signature adorned the bottom.

“She gave permission?” Bianca asked, grinning at Val’s expression.

What is happening? Liam wailed.

Val touched her earpiece. Tell you over beers at the Iron Fist tonight.

But you’re in Africa! Liam protested.

Not exactly. See you in an hour, Val told him.

She took the earpiece out and turned to Tetra. “Shall we?”

“Aw, man. I haven’t drunk the blood of my enemies yet,” Tetra whined.

“You can come with us,” Teddy offered. “There’s a nice, juicy elf over there.”

“No.” Val grabbed Tetra’s arm. “Come on. We’ve left Liam in suspense long enough.”

Val’s bones ached as Genevieve turned into the Continental Army Plaza, where George Washington and his emotionally troubled horse loomed, splashed with graffiti. Genevieve took the turn with unusual gentleness as though aware of Val’s burns and bruises.

Tetra squinted at her reflection in the rearview mirror, prodding the thin pink line on her cheek. “Jae’s no fun. This won’t even leave a scar.”

“Hey, we got free healing. Nothing to complain about.”

Tetra rolled her eyes. “You’ve been in the human world too long. Paying for healing.”

Val’s gut knotted as Genevieve rolled to a halt.

“What are you looking so nervous about?” Tetra tumbled out. “C’mon, Shad. Let’s go!”

Tetra and Shadow bounded to the Iron Fist’s door. The sign read Closed, but the faerie pushed it open without a second thought.

Val followed her into the warm, well-lit interior and felt the knots in her shoulders loosen. The smells of salty pretzels and beer filled the space, mingling with dwarven music from the speakers. One customer nursed a beer in the back booth. The other booths were empty. Only Qenzi and Liam sat at the bar.

Liam raised his head as Val came in. Pale, Qenzi said nothing.

“Val!” Liam rose. “You guys are okay. That was...intense.”

Wiping the bar a few feet away, Enzo chuckled.

“Yeah, about that.” Val cleared her throat.

“I don’t know what I saw.” Liam paused. “Maybe I do know what I saw. The images on the computer screen were so...so...”

“I had to disable the Veil on the computers,” Qenzi murmured. “We were shorthanded, and we had no choice but to ask Liam for help.”

“The Veil?” Liam stared at her.

Qenzi wouldn’t meet his eyes. She directed her gaze into her drink.

Val slid onto the stool opposite Liam. Enzo slid glasses across the bar to her and Tetra and tossed a treat to Shadow. The dog crunched it, then lay at Val’s feet.

“Liam, what I’m about to tell you will be weird,” Val began.

Liam held his hands up. “I always said I don’t want to know stuff that’ll endanger my life.”

“Parts of this will be dangerous,” Val conceded. “And it’s likely to get more dangerous as we go on. You have a choice.” She spread her hands. “If you don’t want to get involved in what you saw today, you can walk away right now. You never have to see us again. You can go back to your life as it was before.”

Liam stared at her. “Why would I want to do that?” He leaned forward. “Val, what I saw today... I think I know what it was, and if it is...” His eyes sparkled. “Tell me the truth. All of it. I want it.”

“Go on, Val.” Tetra nudged her, grinning. “I want him to see these.” She beat her wings.

“See what?” Liam bit his lip.

“Okay.” Val cleared her throat and laid a hand on Liam’s forearm, which rested on the bar. “Hold onto your ass, Lee. This is about to get crazy.”

Qenzi gripped her glass with white fingers.

Val didn’t know where to start. “You’re a Lord of the Rings fan, right?”

“You’re going to start with that speciesist drivel? Really?” Tetra hissed.

Val flapped a hand at her.

Liam’s eyes shone. “Yeah, as well as every fantasy book ever written.” He swallowed. “Val, are you telling me⁠—”

“Yes.” Val squeezed his arm. “I’m telling you that paranormal beings are real, and we’re all around you.”

Liam’s breath hitched. “We?”

“Qenzi, Enzo, Tetra, and I are not human. Neither do we work for a government agency. We work for the Eternity Queen, who reigns over all paranormals in all dimensions,” Val went on.

Liam trembled. “There are multiple dimensions?”

“That’s the best part.” Tetra grinned. “Wait ‘til you see Avalon.”

“Avalon?” Liam squeaked. “As in, King Arthur?”

“Obviously. The queen is descended from him. Duh.” Tetra rolled her eyes.

“Tetra, would you kindly shut your face?” Val snapped. “We’re having a moment.”

“Whatever.” Tetra buried her nose in her beer.

“Why do you look human?” Liam asked. “Is it because of the Veil? Is that why I saw things on the screen when Kenzie... You said you lightened the Veil or something?”

“Yeah, it is.” Val paused. “We’re not supposed to give you the details until we lay out the terms under which you’ll be allowed into the paranormal world.”

Liam leaned closer. “Tell me.”

“Paranormals have been secret from humans since the days of King Arthur, ten thousand years ago. He put an end to paras hunting or exploiting humans and to humans abusing magic by splitting the two worlds to protect both sides. The split is called the Veil, powerful magic that prevents humans from seeing paranormals. We also use glamours when we need to hide something specific,” Val explained.

Liam nodded. “Okay.”

“Only a few humans have ever been permitted beyond the Veil,” Val continued, “and only in special circumstances. In your case, Her Majesty has granted permission for you because of your service to the paranormal world when we fetched Gaia’s Sickle from the Catskills. Today, too.”

“Gaia’s Sickle really was Gaia’s Sickle?” Liam murmured. “The one that chopped off Kronos’—”

“The very same,” Val told him.

“Wow.” Liam ran a shaking hand through his hair. “Wow!”

“You will be permitted this honor, but there is one condition,” Val added.

Liam was wide-eyed.

“You have to accept a geas that will prevent you from revealing the paranormal world to other humans.” Val bit her lip. “A geas is⁠—”

“A magic vow?” Liam asked.

“A good geas is, yes. There are evil geasa, which give paras mind control over others, but we don’t practice that shit. The vow is magically binding, though. If you break it, you’ll go mad. Even the Breaker, a device that ends geasa, will remove the geas but leave your mind damaged if you’ve been under it for a long time.”

Val squeezed his arm. “If you don’t want to accept the geas, that’s okay. We’ll painlessly wipe this conversation from your mind.”

“I’ll take it,” Liam blurted.

Val blinked. “Don’t you want to think about it first? The paranormal world can be dangerous, and this will change your life. You’ll be keeping a huge secret from your friends and family, even Jess and Bella.”

Liam shook his head. “It’s okay. It’ll be to protect them, the way you kept this secret from me until I got too close. As for the danger...” He stared into his beer. “The most dangerous things in my life have been loneliness and lack of purpose. Since joining Stonehold Security, those are gone. I have things to do now, Val. I feel like I matter and make a difference. If that puts me in physical danger, I’m cool with it.”

“You’re sure?”

Liam raised his head and nodded firmly. “Yes, I am.” He smiled, eyes shining. “I’ve believed in magic since I was a little kid. How could I find out it’s real and then walk away? Show me all of you as you truly are!”

Val exchanged a glance with Enzo, who gave her an encouraging nod and bustled to his office.

“We can break the Veil by giving you faerie food or drink,” she explained. “Enzo’s got a bottle of faerie wine on his desk. It’ll put hair on your chest, but diluted, it shouldn’t poison you.”

“’Shouldn’t?’” Liam grinned. “Let’s do this.”

“Okay.” Val smiled. “First, the geas.”

Liam looked expectantly from Val to Tetra to Kenzie, waiting for one of them to perform this fabulous magic. What were they? He guessed Val was a tall, sturdy elf or a Were. Tetra had to be a goblin.

Kenzie... He gazed at her, but she kept her eyes on her drink. She must be a breathtaking fae. Whatever she was, she was stunning.

Val called, “Come on over. He’s ready.”

The old man sitting alone at the booth got up. He wasn’t one of the regulars who played cards in that corner. Liam didn’t recognize him. He wore a long navy trench coat, and his richly curled beard gleamed like moonlight.

Piercing blue eyes studied Liam from amid a web of folds in his pale skin. “You’re sure about this, kid?” he asked, his accent British.

Liam eagerly nodded. “I am. I really am.”

“All right.” The man shrugged. “Your funeral.” He waved his hands. “Abracadabra.”

“What?” Liam squeaked.

Tetra rolled her eyes. “He’s being flippant. Ignore him.”

There was nothing lighthearted about what happened next. The old man held his hands above Liam’s head, and silver light flowed between his fingers. It formed a glowing ball a few inches from Liam’s forehead, and he didn’t know whether to hold his breath or breathe deeper.

It looked like moonlight, but there was more to it than its appearance. Something indefinable yet breathtakingly intimate threaded through Liam’s soul like a song in a language he didn’t understand but that moved in the exact rhythm of his heartbeat. It called to him. He didn’t know what it was, yet he felt its goodness, purity, and power in his heart.

It made him want to cry and sing. It made him want to throw himself face-down before it.

“Speak the words, human,” the old man ordered.

Liam blinked. “Wh-what words?” he whispered, but they bubbled out of him. He meant each one, though he didn’t know where they’d come from. “I vow to uphold the secrecy that shields humans and paranormals. I vow to serve what is pure, just, lovely, honorable, commendable, praiseworthy, and excellent in the paranormal world and to avoid that which is cruel, unmerciful, selfish, and arrogant. I vow to love, protect, and cherish my paranormal friends and to be gracious in their love, protection, and cherishing of me.”

“Receive your geas, kid.” The old man flourished his hand.

The silver light flashed, its brilliance forcing Liam’s eyes closed. He yelped in exhilaration as heat shot through his body and his head spun. Val’s strong hand closed on his arm to keep him from tipping off his stool.

His spinning head cleared. The old man was gone when he blinked the glowing after-image from his vision. “Where’d he go?” he whispered, awed.

“Outside. Through the door. It wasn’t very impressive,” Tetra muttered, but tears shone in her eyes.

“Ready to see us?” Val’s grin made her dark eyes sparkle. Her undercut was still tattered and messy from the battle.

“Yes!” Liam gushed.

“All right, kid.” Enzo stumped over with a bottle of liquid that sparkled like an oil slick. He poured a few drops into a shot glass, where it hissed and sputtered, then topped it with water.

Tetra snickered. “That’ll make you splutter.”

“I’m on the wagon,” Liam hedged.

“Oh, faerie wine hardly contains any alcohol. It’s the caustic magic that goes right to your head,” Tetra cheerfully informed him.

“Um, okay.” Liam reached for the glass.

“Wait.” Kenzie squeezed out the word like she was being strangled. Liam looked up.

Tears hovered in her beautiful blue eyes as she gripped Liam’s arm. “You should know something before you drink that,” she croaked.

“What is it, Kenzie?” Liam asked.

“Firstly, it’s Qenzi. Q-E-N-Z-I.” She shakily inhaled. “Second, I’m not a fae or an elf. I’m not even an attractive vampire. I’m...”

Liam took her hand and squeezed it. “You’re beautiful, smart, and amazing, whatever you are.”

“You don’t understand.” Qenzi shook her head. “Liam, I’m a troll.”

Liam gazed at her, heart swelling until it made breathing difficult. “You’re incredible.”

“Did you hear me?” Qenzi’s voice cracked. “I’m a troll.”

“So you said.” Liam smiled. “You’re also a kick-ass gamer, a brilliant computer programmer, sweet, funny, awkward in all the right ways, and my favorite person to hang out with, whatever species you are.”

“You might not like me as I really am,” Qenzi quavered.

Liam laughed. “How could anything make me not like you?”

Tears hovered on her chestnut eyelashes. She brushed them away, but her hand tightened on his.

“At least now I know why I always felt you were keeping something from me,” Liam added.

“I didn’t like keeping secrets,” Qenzi admitted. “I want you to know everything.”

“Then let me see you,” Liam whispered.

Enzo scooted the shot glass across the bar. Liam didn’t take his eyes off Qenzi as he raised it to his lips and sipped. The liquid scorched his mouth and throat like the hottest ghost pepper, and tears filled his eyes, blinding him. He wheezed and spluttered in an unattractive mass of choking and mucus.

Val pounded him on the back. “Shit, Enzo! How much did you put in there?”

“Oh, he’s okay.” Tetra waved a hand. “Give him some milk. He’s good.”

The fiery pain transferred from his airway to his chest and belly in the worst heartburn he’d ever experienced. Finally, he blinked the tears from his eyes and raised his head.

The first magical thing he saw was Qenzi, and she was breathtaking. Her chestnut bob and gentle blue eyes were the same, but now her skin was the softest moss green. Her cheeks’ warm undertones made the color alive, reminding Liam of the feeling of dewy grass underfoot and the smell of a freshly mowed lawn. The prominent bottom teeth he’d noticed were delicate tusks protruding from her lower lip, blunt and pearly-white. She wore a gold ring on the right one.

Qenzi’s hand trembled in his. “Hey, Lee.”

“Wow,” Liam croaked. His pulse thudded in his throat. “Wow, Qenzi. Wow.”

“You said that,” Tetra remarked and grunted when Val elbowed her in the guts.

“Look at you.” Liam raised his free hand and trailed his fingertips over her skin. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”

Qenzi’s smile shone in her eyes.

“How could someone as special as you want someone as ordinary as me?” he whispered.

“Lee.” Qenzi squeezed his hand hard. “There’s nothing ordinary about you.”

“Okay, enough already,” Tetra complained. “Look at me! I’m a faerie, bitches.”

Liam turned, and his jaw dropped. Val looked like she always did, except that now he saw the delicate glowing runes on her jewelry. Tetra had wasp wings. Enzo had tusks and a bald, tattooed head.

“Whoa!” he exclaimed. “What about Shadow? What is he?”

“The jury’s still out on that one.” Val rubbed the dog’s head. He was unchanged, except maybe bigger.

“Yay! We finally told Liam the truth. Great. Now, let’s drink ourselves into a coma,” Tetra suggested.

Val chuckled. “After today, I’m down for that.” She jumped when her phone vibrated. “Oh, crap. That’s Dad. I should talk to him. I hope he didn’t see the Locker thing on the news.”

To Val’s relief, Frode hadn’t watched the news yet.

“What? News?” he spluttered on the screen as she stood outside the Iron Fist, enjoying the cool air. “I haven’t had time for the news for days. Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine, Dad,” Val assured him. “Diana’s group attacked the Locker. Tetra, Shadow, and I were there, and we helped the OPMA to stop them. Everyone is fine.”

Frode chuckled. “Of course everyone’s fine, darling. You were there to make sure of that. Thanks for telling me. I’ll get the newspaper clipping.”

“Dad,” Val groaned.

“What? I have a file full of them. It’ll be something to show my grandchildren,” Frode announced.

“Dad!” Val protested.

“You’ll meet the right guy someday, darling. Oh, hold on.” Someone shouted in the background. “Sorry, darling,” Frode interjected. “I have to go.”

“There’s one more thing I need to tell you.” Val paused. “If you have time.”

“Sure. What is it?” Frode asked.

Val grinned. “We got the queen’s permission to tell Liam everything. He knows about us now.”

“Eiravel, that’s wonderful!” Frode gushed. “He’s a deserving young man and a credit to the paranormal world. Tell him congratulations from me. You hear that, Bodil?” Muffled words. “Val, Bodil wants to talk to you.”

“Okay, Dad. Love you.” Val waited.

“Val! Hey.” Bodil was out of breath. “I know it’s a bit last-minute, but we have more food than we could possibly eat, so why don’t you bring Liam and a plus-one to the wedding? He’d love that, I’m sure.”

“Wow.” Val blinked. “Bodil, that would be amazing. Thank you so much.”

“Honey, I owe you the world after you persuaded Her Majesty to attend the wedding. Your father is jumping out of his skin.” Bodil chuckled. “I’m not sure who he’s more excited about, the queen or his bride.”

Frode protested in the background.

Bodil laughed. “So you’ll bring Liam and his guest, right? Don’t forget to grab the bridesmaids’ dresses from the boutique, either. See you soon!” Bodil hung up.

Soon. Val froze. She opened the app that checked the ever-fluctuating time difference between Avalon and New York City, and her stomach dropped through her boots.

“Shit!” Val ran into the Iron Fist. “Stop!”

Everyone froze with drinks halfway to their lips.

“You.” Val pointed at Liam and Qenzi. “You’re invited to my dad’s wedding.”

“Cool!” Liam grinned. “When is it?”

“In Avalon time, less than twenty-four hours, and I’m supposed to help set up,” Val groaned.

“Oh, shit,” Tetra squeaked.

“Wait, we’re going to Avalon?” Liam beamed. “Fairyland?”

“That’s politically incorrect, to say the least,” Qenzi kindly told him.

“Oh, crap. Sorry.” Liam grimaced.

“Okay, kids.” Enzo clapped once. “Get your asses home for a nap and a meal, then go to Avalon. I’ll sort out the bar.”

“You’re sure, Enzo?” Val asked.

Enzo waved a hand. “Go!”

“To Avalon!” Liam wheezed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

The fit of self-doubt couldn’t have come at a worse time. Val stood at her workbench, bent double over Bodil and Frode’s handfasting gifts. Bodil’s bracelet was too big. Wasn’t it?

She took it to the anvil and shaped it with two blows of her hammer.

“Val!” Tetra yelled. “Where are you?”

Shadow barked.

“Two minutes!” Val called.

“You said that ten minutes ago!” Tetra bellowed. “We’ll be late.”

Shadow kept barking.

“We won’t be late!” Val shouted.

“We will too!” Tetra countered.

“Do you have to be so juvenile?” Val roared. She raised the bracelet and studied it with a critical eye. It seemed better.

She checked the time and muttered a curse. It would have to do.

Shadow was still barking.

“Shadow, shut up!” Val yelled.

He ignored her as she tucked the bracelets into foam settings and slipped them into velvet boxes. The barking grew louder, and Val barely heard knocking through it.

“There’s someone at the door!” Tetra shouted.

“Can you get it?” Val grabbed the boxes and jogged upstairs. “I need a shower.”

“You do not have time for a shower, girlfriend.” Tetra sat cross-legged on the kitchen table, eating a banana with the skin.

“You’re so messed up,” Val moaned.

Shadow barked louder. More knocking came from the front door.

“You should probably get that.” Tetra bit off another piece of banana.

“Don’t let anything happen to these.” Val dumped the boxes on the table and jogged to the front door. “Shadow, stop it!”

Shadow sat at her heels, wagging his tail and panting.

“Thank you,” Val muttered.

She pulled the door wide. A sour-faced human stood on the threshold, arms folded, lips pursed into the shape of an asshole. Val recognized her next-door neighbor Marie Watts.

“Hey, Marie,” she greeted.

Marie recoiled. “Control that animal!”

Shadow stayed seated, tail wagging.

“Um, he’s controlled,” Val pointed out.

“I heard it barking like a rabid thing. It’s not safe,” Marie complained.

Val raised her eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

“How do you think we feel, seeing that monster running around the backyard all the time? It could jump the fence without thinking about it!” Marie wailed.

Val blinked. She knew Marie didn’t know the word “monster” was an appalling slur, but it felt malicious. “Shadow’s friendly, Marie. He’s never bitten anybody.” She tried not to think of him ripping the throat out of an elf yesterday.

“That’s what you think,” Marie complained. “Don’t you know my daughter-in-law had a baby last week?”

“Oh, Rachel’s baby came? Congrats!” Val forced a smile.

“Yes, well, we can hardly bask in the moment with a neighbor like you, can we?” Marie demanded.

Val froze. “Excuse me?”

“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Valerie.” Marie pulled her cardigan around her shoulders. “My poor son and his wife are stressed to bits over their poor child with all the goings-on here.”

“Goings-on?” Val echoed.

“That massive dog of yours, for instance.” Marie jabbed a bony finger in his direction. “Not to mention the comings and goings at all hours of the night. That dreadful loud car wakes us all when you come home at two in the morning!”

“I own a bar, Marie,” Val growled. “It closes at one. What time do you think I’d get home from work?”

“It’s an unthinkable hour. Unthinkable!” Marie complained. “Then there’s all the hammering.”

Val stared at her. She’d paid a fortune to have the smithy magically soundproofed so the neighbors wouldn’t be bothered. Had her contractors done a shitty job? “What hammering?”

“You were doing it just now!” Marie snapped. “Two or three times a week, I hear you crashing around in there.”

Val had left the smithy door open. She could only guess that Marie heard her working on the odd occasion she forgot to close it.

“Look, Marie, I don’t know what you expect me to do.” Val folded her arms. “Shadow isn’t a danger to anyone, and as a bar owner, those are my working hours. I can scarcely believe my car engine wakes your grandchild in a city this busy. I make a point of driving in quietly.” Genevieve didn’t like it, but it was true.

“You can’t have this dog around children,” Marie snapped.

“Well, he’s not moving.” Val raised her chin.

“What do you want me to do, then?” Marie wailed.

“If you hate living here so much, you should move,” Val countered.

“Oh, I would.” Marie sneered. “No one would buy the house, though. Who would choose to live next to you?”

Val raised her chin. “I don’t know, but I guess I’ll find out.”

“What does that mean?” Marie demanded.

Val shrugged. “I’ll buy your house.”

Marie’s mouth shut with a snap.

“I’ll pay a fair price,” Val told her. “It’s your only solution since I’m not getting rid of my dog, and I can’t change my working hours.”

Marie’s mouth opened and shut several times.

“I have a great property lawyer who can help us with the paperwork and determine a fair price,” Val added. “I’ll call him right now, but if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be out of town for the weekend. My father’s getting married.”

She shut the door in Marie’s face and stumped into the kitchen. Tetra was chewing on the banana stem.

“Did you just buy a house?” the faerie asked. “Is it for me?”

“No, it’s not for you. Please bring those boxes.” Val grabbed her keys. “Let’s go.”

“Val, seriously.” Tetra jogged after her. “Did you buy the house?”

“I’m going to,” Val snapped.

“Because she doesn’t like your dog?” Tetra wailed.

Val paused, a hand on Genevieve’s roof, and stared at Tetra across the pewter expanse. She wasn’t sure if the idea germinating in her mind resulted from genius or madness, but she liked it anyway.

“Oh, no,” Tetra moaned. “I know that look. What in Merlin’s name are you doing?”

“Expanding.” Val grinned. “I bet we can build a multi-unit on Marie’s land.”

She let Shadow into the back seat and slid into the driver’s seat.

Tetra jumped in. “What are you thinking?”

Val drove out and paused, letting the engine idle as she gazed up and down the dusty street. “I bet owning this block would allow me to build a small town underground.”

“A small what now?” Tetra squawked.

“Have you ever noticed that millions of paras live in New York City, yet we have very few para communities?” Val asked. “They’re scattered all over the city instead of having one place to call their own. What if we had somewhere like Little Italy or Chinatown, a place for the Avalonian diaspora to live?”

Tetra gaped at the two houses. “Yeah, okay, cute idea, but you don’t own the block. If this sale goes through, you’ll own, like, a quarter of the block.”

Val grinned. “Give me a month.”

Finally, the venue was ready.

Ironforge Bastion’s great hall was modest compared to the grand rooms in the Eternal Palace, but though the ceiling was no higher than Val’s at home, she appreciated the stone buttresses and the simple window slits that permitted shafts of evening sunlight to pool on the skins and rushes covering the floor. Stone benches, dwarf-made so they appeared to have grown from the floor, lined the aisle.

Wreaths hung on each bench, but the blooms hadn’t grown here. Each was iron, the stems carefully wrought, the delicate petals beaten. The sunlight glimmered on the metal. The number of flowers relieved Val. She’d feared her status as a pariah would rub off on Bodil. Traditionally, each member of an Iron Dwarf community forged an iron flower for a bride-to-be and gifted it to her for her wedding day. The ample wreaths and large bouquets on the dais at the hall’s far end showed Val that the dwarves had come through for Bodil despite her.

A white bearskin rug adorned the dais, basking in a circle of sunlight from a large skylight. Val’s footsteps echoed in the empty hall as she slowly moved down the aisle. The flowers in her basket were real. She’d gathered them on the mountainside with Anneli, Frida, and Elin that morning.

The little dwarves’ giggles rang out as they scampered up and down the aisle, taking handfuls of flowers from Val’s basket and scattering them on the stone floor.

“Careful,” Val warned. “Don’t step on them.”

“Yes, don’t step on them, Anneli,” Frida bossed. “They must be pretty for Auntie Bodil when she comes down the aisle.”

“I know,” Anneli shot back.

They scattered the last few flowers on the bearskin and the stone pulpit overlooking it.

“I think it looks nice now, girls.” Val grinned. “Don’t you?”

“It’s amazing!” Anneli threw her arms in the air.

“Wonderful.” Val tensed as the bastion’s bell clanged high above. “Ah, sh…I mean, oh, no. We need to go get ready, or we’ll be late!”

The girls scampered around the hall’s edge, avoiding the flowers with exaggerated care. Val followed them upstairs to the chambers, several of which Frode and Bodil had hired as suites for them and the guests in anticipation of drinking so much ale that they couldn’t walk home.

Val stepped into the bridal suite. “Everything’s ready, Bodil.”

Her stepmother-to-be stood at an oak dresser, staring at her reflection in its mirror. The light from the room’s large window made her hair shine like spun iron. It spilled over her shoulders in a profusion of delicate braids thanks to Elin, who’d spent all morning on it.

“You okay?” Val quietly asked.

Bodil ran a hand over her tight braids. Their color contrasted with her skin’s rich tones. “It’s really happening.” Her breath hitched. “I’m really marrying him, Val.”

Val came up behind her and rested her hands on Bodil’s shoulders. “You are.”

Bodil met Val’s eyes in the mirror and smiled. “This is only the first of the happiest days of my life,” she whispered. “Thanks for being here with me.” She placed a hand on Val’s.

Val’s throat knotted. She paused, wrestling for the words. “Thanks for wanting me here with you.”

Bodil’s hand tightened on hers. “Always.” She laughed. “I’m being silly.” Delicately, she dabbed tears from the corners of her eyes with her fingertips. “I’m going to ruin my war paint.”

The dark streaks over Bodil’s cheeks and eyes made the white of her wedding dress seem all the brighter. Val wore a single dark line of paint down the bridge of her nose, symbolizing an unproven warrior. Bodil had argued that as a knight of the Eternity Throne, Val had the right to wear full war paint, but she didn’t insist when Val pushed back.

Many in the community would argue that Val wasn’t worthy of wearing Iron Dwarven war paint.

She avoided looking in the mirror despite the flattering cut of her maroon gown and focused on Bodil. The bride twirled, her dress rustling over her hips. She lifted her heavy bouquet of iron flowers and turned to the door. “Come on. I’m done waiting.”

Val laughed and followed as Bodil strode into the hall. Elin, Anneli, and Frida joined them in matching maroon dresses. Val tried not to feel like a giant as they headed toward the stairs.

The lilting tones of panpipes and flutes mingled with the horns in the ancient battle hymn Bodil had chosen for her bridal march. It came from a war thousands of years ago between two Iron Dwarven clans fighting over the same girl: one clan leader for his right to his betrothed, the other for true but forbidden love.

Though the piece was instrumental, the lyrics threaded through Val’s mind as they descended the last flight of steps to the great hall.

And when the unjust law fails us all

May the moonlight shine upon my blade

May my justice be love, and love be my justice

May Luna free us and light all our ways.

The music reached its crescendo, with the pipes rising higher than the vaulted ceiling as they reached the great hall’s door.

Aunt Milda waited at the altar, with Frode at her right. Gunnar stood beside him, the only man in the Iron Hills willing to act as his best man. The thought caused Val a pang of sorrow, which faded like mist before the sun when Frode turned around and glimpsed his bride. His joy burned as bright as a forge fire. His friendly, wrinkle-mapped face creased into the broadest smile Val had ever seen there. The dark eyes shone, and he extended his arms toward Bodil as though the aisle’s distance was unbearable.

“Wow, Mom!” Frida whispered. “Look at Uncle Frode. He looks so cool!”

Elin hastily hushed the child, but Val agreed as she and the other bridesmaids preceded Bodil down the aisle, clutching the single iron rose she’d forged. Frode wore ceremonial armor with flowing designs inlaid in gold on the breastplate, wolfskin-lined boots, and a bearskin cloak whose thick brown ruff stood high around his plentiful braided hair. Beads and gemstones shone in his beard, which reached his waist. He looked like a splendid ancient king, Val thought. Like someone who held the whole world together.

She was so busy staring at Frode that she didn’t notice the royal family until she reached the altar and took her place on Milda’s right. Queen Julia sat in the front row, wearing a comfortable cloak and tunic and bouncing Lillirelda on her knee. Beside her, King Taylor discreetly applied wet wipes to the toddler’s grimy face. Their understated clothing clashed with Rosa’s, who had decided that her bold red dress and amulet were an excellent choice for a traditional Iron Dwarven handfasting for reasons Val could not fathom.

She glanced at Frode, but he was not looking at the queen. His eyes remained on Bodil as she came down the aisle, arms bulging under the weight of her iron bouquet, making her look very strong. Bodil’s grin lit the hall. She reached Frode and handed her bouquet to Val without looking at her. This bride only had eyes for her groom.

The music died, and Milda spoke. “Friends and guests, we are all overjoyed to be here this day to witness the establishment of a holy covenant between Frode Stonehold and Bodil Highcroft in the sight of Luna.” She raised her arms, spreading her chainmail cloak with a metallic rustle. “Receive the blessing of Luna, one of perfect love and abundant grace. May her peace be with us all.”

“Amen,” the attendees chorused. They could hardly be called a crowd. Queen Julia and her family were in the front row, and Liam and Qenzi and Tetra sat in the second on Frode’s side of the aisle. On Bodil’s, a handful of dwarves occupied the first three rows.

Milda smiled. “I have it on good authority that these two paras have waited long enough for this moment.” She turned to Val. “The fasting iron, if you please.”

Val lifted a metal loop from a hook on her dress’s belt and handed it to Milda, who murmured in Runic Dwarvish as she held it up. The loop softened, broke, and hung limply in her palm like a rope.

“Join your right hands,” Milda ordered.

Frode and Bodil gazed into each other’s eyes as they clasped hands. Val’s heart swelled at the joy in her father’s face and Gunnar’s hand on his shoulder. He’s gaining more than Bodil today, she realized. He’s gaining a family.

“You may speak your vows,” Milda murmured.

Frode spoke first in Ancient Dwarvish. “I, Frode Stonehold, take thee, Bodil Highcroft, as my wedded wife ‘til death us part, and to you I plight my troth.” The harsh, guttural syllables resounded in the hall.

The supple iron left Milda’s hand and wrapped around his wrist. Gently, it wound around Frode’s arm and hand, then crept over Bodil’s fingers.

“I, Bodil Highcroft, take thee, Frode Stonehold,” Bodil announced with loud pride, “as my wedded husband, ‘til death us part, and to you I plight my troth.”

The iron moved over Bodil’s hand and arm. As it went, threads separated from the main cord and spread over their hands, taking on the shapes of their knuckles and fingers and extending like cobwebs until their hands were covered in fine iron threads.

“The coin, Gunnar,” Milda reminded him.

Gunnar fumbled in his cloak pocket and brought out an iron coin, which Frode and Bodil gripped with their left hands. Their magic flashed red and clove the coin in half. Each kissed their half of the coin, then handed them to Val. She’d promised to make the coin halves into the necklaces that served as wedding bands in their culture.

“Without further ado, friends,” Milda beamed at the guests, “I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Stonehold. You may kiss your bride, brother.”

Hands still bound by iron, Frode pulled Bodil close and kissed her. Skandar blew a raspberry. The crowd applauded, and Rosa let out a deafening wolf whistle. No matter how weird it was to see her dad smooching somebody, Val couldn’t stop grinning.

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

The banquet hall would have been embarrassingly large for the little party, so after the ceremony was over, Milda led them from the great hall to her quarters. They fit comfortably into her smaller dining hall.

Large, plain windows at both ends of the rectangular room allowed the sunset’s light to pool within. The stone table ran the hall’s length and had exquisite carvings of ancient battles decorating its edges. Heaps of furs and skins made the stone benches comfortable. Val eased Frode’s and Bodil’s hands from the handfasting iron and set it in the table’s center with a candle inside. Its flame glowed brightly between the iron threads, illuminating the shapes of their hands clasped together for all to see.

Frode and Bodil sat at the table’s head, with Gunnar and Elin on Bodil’s left and Val on Frode’s right. Queen Julia took her place next to Val and immediately reached for the drinking horn in its stand beside her wooden bowl.

“I’ve never used one of these, but I bet there’s something delicious in it,” she announced, sniffing.

“There will be soon, Your Majesty.” Milda sat next to Rosa. “I ordered Bacchus mead for the occasion.”

“Ale from the Forge, too?” Val asked hopefully. She’d grown up on their local inn’s homebrew.

Milda grinned. “Of course.”

A row of servants entered, carrying metal dishes and barrels sloshing promisingly. They set the feast on the table. Frode and Bodil barely noticed anything beyond each other, but Queen Julia rubbed her hands together in eager anticipation as the servers placed the dishes on the table. Steaming mounds of buttered potatoes, piles of roast beets and turnips, and stacks of fragrant fresh bread surrounded the roast goat.

The servants filled everybody’s drinking horn to the brim with mead.

Rosa leaned toward Liam. “They’ll tell you their paranormal drinks are too strong for us,” she whispered, “but it’s bullshit. Drink away, honey!”

“Mom,” Queen Julia protested.

“Um, what are you?” Liam ventured.

“I’m human, sweetie. Don’t you worry. You’re not the only one.” Rosa elbowed him in the ribs.

“Okay,” Liam squeaked. Qenzi smiled.

Frode rose, holding up his drinking horn. Jewel-encrusted rings sparkled on his fingers, their light dim compared to the glow in his eyes.

“I’m not good at speeches,” he announced. “All the same, I’ll try. I’m so grateful you’re all here. I’m grateful for you, my beautiful Eiravel, for everything you are.” He raised the horn toward Val. “I’m grateful to you, too, all of you good folks in Bodil’s circles, who accepted us into your family without question.”

“Of course, Frode,” Elin murmured.

“I’m grateful to you, Your Majesties.” Frode bowed low. “May your reign and family prosper as you have made Avalon and all paranormals prosper. We thank you for your love and sacrifice and for being here. Milda, the castle looks wonderful, and you’ve always been a gracious host.” He paused. “Thank you for coming, Val’s friend.”

Liam offered a little wave.

“Above all,” Frode continued, turning to Bodil, “thank you, my glorious bride. Everything you do amazes me. I’m privileged to stand beside you today and call you my wife.” He raised his horn. “To Bodil!”

“To Bodil!” Everyone toasted and quaffed.

The scent of the horn’s beeswax coating mingled pleasantly with the mead’s honey undertones, sending an instant buzz to Val’s toes. It gave her the courage to jump to her feet, clutching her horn with white knuckles. Liam spluttered while Tetra pounded him on the back.

“Dad, you’re the best,” she managed. “To Frode!”

“To Frode!” the table enthusiastically chorused.

Val chugged the rest of her mead in a single gulp. Tetra grinned and raised both thumbs in approval of her speech.

“Public speaking is always nerve-racking,” Queen Julia observed.

Frode pulled his dagger out and carved the succulent goat into unceremonious chunks. Everyone helped themselves, heaping their plates.

“No starters, no frills, no fuss,” King Taylor commented, licking his lips over a chunk of goat that had fallen off the bone. “When was the last time we had a dinner like this, babe?”

“I think we should give up the throne and become Iron Dwarves,” Queen Julia joked, spearing a potato with her fork.

Lillirelda cooed in her hastily constructed high chair and shoved her fingers into a heap of goat meat.

“Lilli,” King Taylor chided. “Sorry. She’s messy.”

Val watched as Frode ripped a strip of meat off a goat rib with his teeth. “I don’t think anyone cares.”

Nobody did. Ten minutes into the meal, even the queen had abandoned her knife and fork. Val gnawed a goat bone as grease dripped down her hands. Liam declined another helping of mead but enjoyed the fresh, frothing goat’s milk and honey provided for him and Lillirelda, judging by his milk mustache.

Val was too full to move, and her head buzzed pleasantly when the meal ended. This was not the time to talk to Milda about the Red Bear. The servants shoved the stone table against the wall, threw rushes on the floor, and summoned the band. Music filled the space, and the guests stood in a silent circle as Frode whisked his new bride into the center to dance.

The band struck up a jig. Bodil giggled and curtseyed, and Frode responded with a deep, elegant bow.

Liam wandered to Val’s elbow and watched. Frode’s heavy boots hit the floor in a swift, surprisingly agile rhythm. He grinned at his bride, hands on his hips, cloak swaying with his movements. The thud and jingle of boots and chain mail underlined the song’s tune. Frode finished with a jump that made Val gasp, one leg flashing up high in front of him, and landed on one knee with his arms spread.

“Is this, like, the first dance?” Liam asked.

“It’s more like a dance-off,” Val explained.

Liam chuckled with the sincere joy of a nerd immersed in a culture he’d always dreamed of as Bodil cut a fine caper, holding her wedding dress above her knees with both hands.

The band took their cue from her. The pipes and drums played faster, producing a rousing beat that no one could resist. Skandar started clapping first. Everyone joined him in the next few moments, and the thud of feet and hands filled the hall as Frode pulled off a sequence of swift steps. Bodil laughed, acknowledging his skill with a tilt of her head, and proceeded to demolish him in the next few seconds with a spin that sent her gown swirling, then a dizzying jump.

Frode bowed, conceding defeat, then cringed, knowing what came next. Gunnar stood nearest. He tipped his drinking horn upside down, showering Frode’s head with mead.

The other guests charged, bearing Val with them in a giggling tide as they drenched Frode with mead. Bodil called, “Where’s my horn?” and Elin handed it to her. She was the last to tip her horn out on Frode’s head, laughing, her eyes alight. Frode straightened, shaking mead from his hair like a dog, his braids in disarray. He grabbed Bodil around the waist, dipped her, and kissed her in a way that made Val blush.

She led Tetra and Liam to the table for mead refills as the other dwarves lined up on the dance floor.

“What are they doing now?” Liam asked.

“A traditional line dance,” Val explained.

“Why don’t you join them?” Tetra nudged her.

Val shook her head, flushing. “It wasn’t designed for different lengths of legs.” She chugged mead.

Liam looked at Val, then the other dwarves, still nonplussed despite the crash course in her personal history he’d received in Genevieve on the way to the Iron Hills. She tried not to let his confusion grate on her nerves and sagged onto a fur-covered bench. A dozen aches from the battle with Diana made themselves known. She drank more mead to soothe them.

“Do you think Shadow’s okay?” she murmured.

“He’s in your dad’s house with the biggest bone I’ve ever seen. I bet he’s fine.” Tetra sprawled beside her, stirring her wings.

“May I ask a question?” Liam asked.

Val laughed. “Of course.”

“I have so many.” Liam sheepishly grinned. “I don’t want to pester you, but...”

“Ask away.” Val waved a hand.

“Who’s she?” Liam pointed at Queen Julia, who had unwisely joined the dance despite Taylor’s attempts to stop her. Qenzi gasped. Tetra didn’t respond.

“That’s the Eternity Queen,” Val murmured. “She rules all the paranormals.”

“There’s something about her. A power I can’t define.” Liam sipped honeyed milk.

“That’s lunar magic, the greatest and purest power of all,” Val told him. “She’s a Lunar Fae. You felt lunar magic earlier when Merlin cast your geas.”

“Oh, okay. That makes—” Liam snorted into his drinking horn. “Wait, did you say Merlin cast my geas?”

“Yeah, that grumpy old ass in the Iron Fist. Queen Julia sent him over. Few paras are authorized to cast geasa,” Val explained.

“Merlin,” Liam squeaked, melting onto the bench. “Merlin.”

“Excuse me, miss?”

Val turned to find a sneering Iron Dwarf maiden by her side. She wore the tidy uniform of a servant in the bastion and a sneer that told Val what she thought of five-foot-nine paras who called themselves dwarves.

“Yeah?” Val lowered her horn.

“There’s someone outside who’d like to see you, miss,” the servant informed her. “They seemed...unsavory.” She sniffed. “I refused to let them enter Her Ladyship’s quarters. They are waiting by the postern gate.”

“Oh.” Val blinked. “Who⁠—”

The servant bustled off without another word.

“This seems sketchy.” Tetra bounded to her feet. “I like it! Let’s go!”

“Whoever they are, they’re not gatecrashing my dad’s handfasting,” Val growled.

She marched from the room, Tetra and Liam behind her, and headed down several flights of steps and across a courtyard to the postern gate. Guards silently paced through the courtyard and on the walls but paid no attention to Val as she pushed the narrow iron grille open and ducked to fit through.

Three familiar Iron Dwarves waited outside, all heavyset young men. The one in the center had broad shoulders and shaggy salt-and-pepper eyebrows.

Val sighed. “Durgan? Really? You show up at my dad’s handfasting?”

“Who’s he?” Liam hissed.

“An asshat who picked fights with Val a lot,” Tetra whispered.

A small knot of curious dwarves waited a hundred yards away, clustered in the service road and leaning on the stone walls.

“Hey, Val.” Durgan rubbed his enviable bush of spiky hair. “I’m not here to cause shit. Actually, we’re here to apologize.”

His cronies Brok and Rurik gave Val the same impassive stares as always.

She folded her arms. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. We’ve seen everything you do on TV.” Durgan shifted his weight. “Sorry.”

“You’re apologizing because she’s famous now?” Tetra snapped.

“Hey, it’s better than no apology,” Brok muttered.

“Shut up, idiot,” Durgan ordered.

“What’s going on down here?” Queen Julia shoved through the gate, making the crowd gasp. “Is it trouble?”

“Um, Your Majesty, how much mead did you drink?” Tetra inquired.

The queen hiccupped. “Enough.”

“Julie!” King Taylor hissed. He’d followed her. “What are we doing down here?”

“Look, do you accept my apology or not?” Durgan gruffly demanded.

Val grinned. “I’ll accept your apology on one condition.” She clenched her fists, adrenaline coursing through her veins.

“What’s that?” Durgan snapped.

Val raised her bare hands. “You all go one round with me.”

“My money’s on Val!” Queen Julia announced loudly.

“Julie,” King Taylor protested.

“I mean, it’s literally on Val, you guys.” Queen Julia fished in her tunic and withdrew a fistful of gold Avalonian dollars. “All of it.”

“Okay!” Tetra bounced into action. “Queen Julia’s put fifty dollars on Val! Who will match it?”

“Fifty on Durgan, Brok, and Rurik!” A dwarf in the crowd waved a note.

Tetra joyfully moved around the crowd, gathering money. Taylor groaned as Queen Julia yelled, “Go, Val! Kick his ash. Asshhh. Ass!”

Val raised her fists, moving comfortably in her stretchy bridesmaid dress, and proceeded to do precisely that.

Frode was too wrapped up in Bodil to notice that Val and the others were gone, but he raised an eyebrow when they returned. Queen Julia carried a large wad of cash and wore a smug grin. King Taylor blushed. Tetra had skimmed a profit off her bets that made her bodice jingle, and Liam grinned contentedly.

“Where’ve you been, little spark?” Frode asked as Val took a seat next to him. Bodil was across the room, laughing with Gunnar and Elin.

“Settling old differences, that’s all,” Val assured him.

Frode chuckled. “You have a black eye, and your dress is torn.”

“They were big differences.” Val smirked.

Frode wrapped an arm around her. “You’re glowing, darling.”

“You should take a look at yourself, Dad.” Val leaned her cheek on his head. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

Frode squeezed her. “Nothing makes me happier than you do.”

“That’s sweet, Dad, but it’s okay. Our family hasn’t been whole since Mom left.”

Frode shook his head. “You were always enough for me.”

“I know I was enough for you as your daughter. But you need more than that. You need her.” Val smiled.

Frode pulled away from her and searched her eyes. “Nothing will ever change how much I love you.”

“Dad, I know. It’s okay. It’s all okay.” Val squeezed his hands, his fingers hard and short against her large palms. “I’ll never doubt you.” She paused, then realized her words were true. “I never have.”

Tears shimmered in Frode’s eyes. “You’re a gift to this world, Eiravel. Never forget it.”

The tall smith hammers out her own legend. The words from the prophecy threaded through Val’s mind, but she pushed them away.

“If you say so, Dad.” Val grinned. “Now I think it’s time we had another round, don’t you?”

Mead and music flowed all night. Laughter echoed through Ironforge Bastion, and the threat of impending war seemed far away.

For now.

THE STORY CONTINUES

Valerie’s story continues in book six, The Iron Bear. Available on Kindle.

Claim Your Copy Here

AUTHOR NOTES RENÉE JAGGÉR

JULY 30, 2024

Thank you for reading book five and here to the back! This series is still fun to write. Wonder what I’ll write next?

The next time you see an old lady…

This afternoon, I accompanied my friend Shea’s mother Lynne to her grandson’s riding lesson. Shea is in Africa, so Lynne has Oliver today. Since there are only so many things you can say while a young man walks his horse around the ring, we got to talking about growing up in the fifties and sixties as Lynne did, based on a chance comment she made that “sitting at this stable made her remember ditching high school and going riding in Topanga Canyon.”

My, that woman was a rebel. She dropped out of school and left home at sixteen, then went out dancing after work every night with gay men in West Hollywood using a fake ID. She watched women transition from having to wear nylons and skirts below the knee (as measured when they walked through the door) to school to the hippie era. The change happened when she was fifteen.

So when you see an older woman in your daily travels (or are related to one), remember that she probably:

Wore some of the first go-go boots and mini-skirts and bell bottoms and hot pants

Saw the Beatles debut on the Ed Sullivan show in America, and was there for the rise of the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin. Really, all of rock and roll.

Drove a Mustang (Lynne had two, a ’65 and a ’67. Her mother had a ’68 Shelby that Lynne backed into her dad’s car one morning.)

Skated and rode her bike without a helmet and lived to tell about it

Never wore a seat belt until the eighties because it wasn’t required

Remembers the assassination of JFK and men landing on the moon and got some of the first calculators and microwaves and had waterbeds and thought they were cool even after they burst

Snuck her friends into drive-in theaters in the trunk, then flirted all night rather than watching the movie

We’ll never see the advances they did or be as cool as they were!

As always…

Big thanks to everyone at LMBPN as well. I sincerely appreciate my editor, the JIT team, and you, the readers! We authors couldn’t do it without you. Kelly, as always, you rock!

Until we speak again, I hope your skies are sunny and your days are filled with happiness and good books.

Renée

BOOKS FROM RENÉE

Para-Military Recruiter

(with Michael Anderle)

Drafted (Book 1)

Recruiter (Book 2)

Accepted (Book 3)

Lead (Book 4)

Recruited (Book 5)

Soldier (Book 6)

Tactical (Book 7)

Officer (Book 8)

Leader (Book 9)

Victor (Book 10)

Appointed (Book 11)

Councilor (Book 12)

Royal (Book 13)

Princess (Book 14)

Peacemaker (Book 15)

Queen (Book 16)

Valerie Stonehold

Security For Hire (Book 1)

Shieldmaiden of the Modern Realm (Book 2)

Arbiter of Shadows (Book 3)

Jewel of the Night’s Mantle (Book 4)

Echoes of the Anvil (Book 5)

The Iron Bear (Book 6)

Piercing the Veil

Dangerous Opportunities (Book 1)

Dangerous Responsibilities (Book 2)

Decisions To Make (Book 3)

Reincarnation of the Morrigan

Birth of a Goddess (Book One)

The Way of Wisdom (Book Two)

Angelic Death (Book Three)

A Cold War (Book Four)

A Battle Tune (Book Five)

Broken Ice (Book Six)

A Torn Veil (Book Seven)

Sins of the Past (Book Eight)

The Wild Hunt Comes (Book Nine)

The WereWitch Series

Bad Attitude (Book One)

A Bit Aggressive (Book Two)

Too Much Magic (Book Three)

Were War (Book Four)

Were Rages (Book Five)

God Ender (Book Six)

God Trials (Book Seven)

The Troll Solution (Book Eight)

Winner Takes All (Book Nine)

Callie Hart Series

Thin Ice (Book One)

Cold Blood (Book Two)

Feelings Run Deep (Book Three)

BOOKS BY MICHAEL ANDERLE

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