City of Fae

The camera operators frowned, and cast me sideways glances. They hadn’t yet seen the sparkly daggers inside my coat. I resisted the urge to grin.

“Can you zoom in on the loading bays at the back, behind the arena?” Andrews asked. The operators obliged, and we squinted at the screens. Nothing. I was missing something. “These cameras cover everything? Are there any tunnels?”

“Yeah,” the nearest operator nodded, “The sixty-foot Blackwall Tunnel shaft comes up right through ’ere.” He tapped a pencil at a screen. “You can’t miss it from outside.”

Oh God. “There. It’ll be there. Can we get to it? From inside?”

He looked at me warily. “There’s a maintenance door.”

“Show us.”

We followed the operator to the south side of the dome, where we met with an official who seemed to want to go over Andrews’s ID with a fine-tooth comb before finally opening the side door. The shaft rose up like a silver monolith. Cool night air rushed over us, bringing with it the sights and smells of London. I tugged my coat closed and ventured into the cutout area around the ventilation shaft. Exterior lights flooded a brittle milky glow around us, scattering insubstantial shadows. No spiders. I’d expected … something. “I was so sure.”

“Maybe she’s not coming.” Andrews gazed up at the vents some sixty feet above. The wind whipped his jacket open and tousled his hair. He seemed almost hopeful, but he couldn’t feel her: the impending storm. If she wasn’t here already, she was close.

We walked around the shaft, but if anything there was a disturbing lack of spiders and their webs. Wherever she was, it wasn’t there. A tunnel. It made sense. Returning inside, I quizzed the operator, but he confirmed there were no other tunnels under the dome. He left Andrews and me in the entrance plaza, outside Starbucks. “I don’t understand …”

“Like I said, maybe she’s not coming.”

I gave him a smile; he seemed like he needed it. “She’s coming. There are tens of thousands of people here. She wouldn’t miss this. Especially as I failed again. She’ll want a few words with her progeny.”

Andrews’s keen gaze scanned the flow of people milling around us. Most headed toward the restaurants, but others hung back by the frosted-glass entrance doors. Reign’s spellbinding voice reached us, albeit muffled below the general background din of so many people. Andrews turned toward me, hand tucked in his pocket, “So, what happened?”

“I was wounded pretty badly. She patched me up.” Tapping my temple, I said, “She went to town up here.” Shivers skittered through me, prompting me to pull my coat tighter. “I came here as her tool. It was only when Reign … We, uh, we fought, and he helped me remember.”

Andrews nodded and mustered a weak but genuine smile. “Good.” He lifted a finger and pressed the earpiece in his ear. The team checking in. I hung back, arms crossed, shivers still spilling over my skin, while Andrews gave his team the all clear. My limbs ached and a dull throb emanated around my skull. I didn’t have time to get sick, especially now.

Lifting my gaze I scanned the ceiling canopy above the entrance plaza. Downward lights sparkled. Glossy advertising posters gleamed. The dome represented the modern, and yet the queen was here, ancient and horrifying. Feverish shivers spritzed my skin with perspiration. Rubbing my forehead, trying to ease the dull ache and wipe off the sheen of perspiration, my thoughts wandered. People paid me no mind while I watched them laugh, chat, and argue. I had to fight not to grab them one by one and shout at them to leave now, before it was too late. They wouldn’t listen, and I’d be arrested.

Andrews turned toward me, his face ashen. “Something’s wrong.”

A shout went up from the plaza. A young woman tugged on the glass entrance doors. She tried another. Others joined in, but the doors weren’t moving. Panic plucked at the mood of the crowd. My feet carried me forward without instruction, but even as I drew close I could see the evidence I’d been looking for all along. The glass doors weren’t frosted. What I’d thought to be opaque glass was a blanket of webbing.

Andrews jostled his way through a growing crowd. “Police … Let me through.” He tugged on the automatic doors. They rattled but didn’t open. The mechanisms had jammed with what looked like white cotton candy. I knew otherwise. My gaze trailed higher, into the canopy above us.

Think like a fae. Look up … “Andrews, she’s on the roof!”

He broke away from the crowd and relayed my revelation into his earpiece. “I want Air Support here now. Yes, I know the costs. Do it! The doors are sealed. Check all entrances and exits, and get the cutting gear ASAP.”