“Um…” I hesitated, embarrassed, and snuck a peek at Ash. He sat in his chair, fingers laced under his chin, pretending no interest in the conversation. “Didn’t Grimalkin tell you?”
“He did, darling, but I’d much prefer to hear it firsthand. I’m about to lose a very costly wager, you see, so I’d love it if you could give me a loophole.” She scowled at Grimalkin, who sat on the table, washing his paws in a very smug manner. “He’ll be simply insufferable after this, I’m afraid. Details, darling, I need details.”
“Well…”
“Mistress!”
Fortunately, I was saved a reply by the noisy arrival of Razor Dan and his redcaps. Still dressed in matching butler suits with pink bow ties, the redcaps filed into the dining room, every one of them scowling at me. Ash’s eyes widened, and he quickly hid his mouth under his laced fingers, but I saw his shoulders shaking with silent laughter.
Luckily, the redcaps didn’t notice. “We delivered the piano to the cabin, like you ordered,” Razor Dan growled, the fishhook in his nose quivering indignantly. “And we stocked it with supplies, like you asked. It’s all ready for the brat and her pets.” He glared at me and bared his fangs, as if remembering our last little encounter. He had been in cahoots with Warren, the bitter half satyr who’d tried to kidnap me and take me to the false king the last time I was here. Leanansidhe had punished Warren (I wasn’t sure how, and I didn’t want to know) but spared the redcaps, saying they were only following their base instincts. Or maybe she just didn’t want to lose her free slave labor. In any case, they’d just provided me with a much-needed distraction.
I leaped from my chair, drawing surprised looks from everyone in the room. “We really should go,” I said, not needing to feign my impatience. “My dad is there, right? I don’t want him to be alone when he turns back from being a piano.”
Leanansidhe snorted with amusement, and I realized how odd that sentence sounded, even to me. “Don’t worry, dove. It will take time for the glamour to wear off. But I understand if you have to go. Just remember, my door is always open if you want to come back.” She waved her cigarette at Grimalkin, sitting on the other side of the table. “Grim, darling, you know the way, right?”
Grimalkin yawned widely and stretched. Curling his tail around himself, he regarded the Exile Queen without blinking and twitched an ear. “I believe you and I still have a wager to settle,” he purred. “One that you lost, if you remember.”
“You are a horrid creature, Grimalkin.” Leanansidhe sighed and puffed a smoke-cat into the air, then sent a smoke-hound after it. “It seems I am destined to lose bargains today. Very well, cat, you can have your bloody favor. And may you choke on it when you try to call it in.”
Grimalkin purred and seemed to smile. “This way,” he told me, waving his tail as he stood. “We will have to go back through the cellar, but the trod is not far. Just be wary when we get there—Leanansidhe failed to mention that this particular spot is infested with bogles.”
“What about Goodfellow?” Ash said, before I could ask what a bogle was. “Should he know where we’re going, or are we going to leave him behind?”
My stomach turned, angry and sullen. “I don’t care,” I growled, and scanned the dining room, wondering if one of the chairs, plates, or utensils was actually Puck in disguise. “He can follow us or not, but he’d better stay out of my way if he knows what’s good for him. I don’t want to see his face for a long time. Come on, Grim.” I looked at the cat, watching us with an amused, half-lidded expression, and raised my chin. “Let’s get out of here.”
BACK THROUGH THE BASEMENT we went, Grimalkin in the lead, down another maze of torchlit hallways to an old wooden door hanging crookedly from its hinges. Sunlight streamed in through the cracks, and birdsong trilled somewhere beyond the door.
I pulled it open and found myself in a dense forest glen, broad-leafed trees surrounding us on every side and a babbling stream cutting through the clearing. Sunlight dappled the forest floor, and a pair of spotted deer raised their heads to watch us, curious and unafraid.
Ash stepped through the stony mound we’d exited, and the door creaked shut behind him. He took in the forest surroundings with one smooth, practiced gaze, and turned to Grimalkin.
“There are several trows watching us from the bushes. Are they going to be a problem?”
Startled, I scanned the clearing, searching for the elusive trows, which, from what I understood, were squat, ugly fey who lived underground, but apart from the deer, we appeared to be alone. Grimalkin yawned and scratched behind an ear.
“Leanansidhe’s groundskeepers,” he said offhandedly. “Nothing to worry about. If you hear feet moving around the cabin at night, it is probably them. Or the brownies.”
“What cabin?” I asked, gazing around the clearing. “I don’t see a cabin.”