“Twice before. Once at a nightclub, when they seemed to be trying to take out the Spriggan king, and the other time at the stone fortress.” The assault stopped, and after a moment I lowered the shoulder plate I’d been holding in front of my face. “Watch, they’ll disappear.”
Jasper looked around just as the servitors began to wink out of existence. First, the ones we’d killed disappeared. Then the ring of knife throwers faded out of sight.
“I heard about the assassination attempt on King Sebastian at Druid Circle. You were there for that?”
I raised a shoulder and let it drop. “Yep.”
He shook his head. “Why did they come?”
For a second I debated about whether to tell him Marisol’s theory but figured it wouldn’t hurt to repeat it. “We believe they aren’t sent for the primary objective of killing, but for some other purpose.”
“What?”
“We don’t know. But when they disappear, they’re returning to their master, their task done.”
He looked troubled.
“Creepy, eh?” I said, skirting a look around at the places where the bodies had been.
“I have to inform King Periclase.” He started to stride away but then stopped and wheeled around.
I let out a withering sigh. “But you can’t leave me alone.”
“I’ll go.” Emmaline had crept out from her hiding place and was brushing off the front of her dress.
Noticing that she’d released her stone armor, I did the same. As it disappeared, the familiar ache spread over my skin. It was one of the costs of possessing such powerful magic, and all who could form the rock armor suffered it. I couldn’t help wondering if the constant armor around Jasper’s forearm caused him pain.
Jasper nodded. “Do you have a weapon?” he asked her.
She shook her head. He pulled out a short, curved knife and flipped it around in his palm so he could hand the hilt to her. She gave him a small, grateful smile and then hurried away, going back the way we’d come.
His gaze tipped downward, and for a moment I thought he was looking at Mort with the intent of demanding I hand over my sword. But when I glanced down, I realized in the course of the fight I’d ripped a high slit up the center of my dress. Another couple of inches and he would have known the color of my underwear.
“It’s a good modification,” he said, completely straight-faced and in that mild tone of his.
I snorted a laugh in spite of myself and went to pick up my scabbard.
“You’re a very solid fighter,” I said.
“Is that a compliment or a subtle put-down?”
I thought for a second. “Compliment. But one that implies there’s room for improvement.”
He chuckled, but his mirth was short-lived as we caught the sound of pounding boots. A moment later, the courtyard flooded with Duergar guards. Jasper went to talk to the one in the lead, leaving me standing there in a ripped dress, holding Mort.
I started to head to the stairs to go up to my quarters—after all, I had some packing to do—when King Periclase swept in, cape and all. His personal guards had their short swords drawn, and they moved into the space in half-crouches with their weight shifted forward, ready to fight. They all straightened when they realized the battle was done. The Duergar king scanned the courtyard, his face grimly set. But then, he always looked grim. His eyes lingered on me as Jasper went to speak to him.
I swung my scabbard over my head and settled it across my body, feeling once again whole with Mort on my back. Crossing my arms, I stayed where I was, figuring Periclase would want me questioned. Emmaline returned, slightly out of breath, and came to my side. We both watched the Duergar king.
“He say anything?” I asked her.
“Not much,” she said. She glanced at me. “But he looked a little shaken.”
My brows rose. The stone-faced king was rattled? I didn’t really blame him. These servitor breaches were unusual. And the fact that no one seemed to know who was behind them or why they were sent was unsettling, even to a mercenary Fae who lived on the other side of the hedge.
“Are you all right, Emmaline?” I asked quietly. She’d probably never been in anything resembling a real combat situation, where she actually could have been killed.
Nodding, her face took on a fierce look, her nose creasing between her eyes as if she were looking at something far-off and she wanted to stab it through the ribs. “I just wish I would have had a sword. I hated lying there, useless and helpless.”
I smiled with grim appreciation. She’d be fine.
“Good girl,” I said approvingly. “I’m sure it was frustrating, but you held yourself together and you didn’t die. That’s always a good outcome. Next time, maybe you’ll have that sword you want so much.”
“You think there will be a next time?” she asked, sounding more intrigued than fearful.
I frowned. “These servitors seem to be able to go anywhere they please without permission, so until someone figures out who’s commanding them, they’ll likely keep cropping up.”
After another couple of minutes, Jasper joined us.
“What, no inquisition?” I said, spreading my hands.
“King Periclase asked me to convey his approval for aiding me in defending the palace.”
“Approval?” I snorted. “He ain’t my daddy. I don’t need his approval.”
I wasn’t about to admit I was relieved. After the day I’d had, a grilling from the Duergar king was the last thing I needed. I was ready to get the hell out. At least, out of all the courtly nonsense.
I tipped my head at my door on the second floor. “C’mon, let’s get this eviction over with, shall we?”
Just then, Maxen and some of the New Garg dignitaries entered the courtyard. He flicked a glance at me, accompanied by a brief, relieved-looking nod, before going to Periclase.
Jasper, Emmaline, and I went upstairs. She and I went in to quickly gather the few things of mine that had been unpacked, while Jasper stood outside.
“You should stay here,” I said. “You’re not the one who got in trouble. You can attend to Lochlyn.”
Emmaline closed the lid of my trunk. “I can’t officially attend to her, since she’s not New Gargoyle. But I’m sure Lord Lothlorien can find another assignment for me.”
Suddenly I remembered the piece of paper Lochlyn had slid between my dress and my shoulder blade. While Emmaline was looking down at her tablet, I reached back and worked the folded scrap out but kept it concealed in my hand.
“I’m going to find someone to carry your trunk,” Emmaline said and went out onto the balcony to speak to Jasper.
I turned toward a wall, and keeping the paper close to my body, I unfolded it. On it were hastily drawn marks. I recognized them immediately as sigils, the symbols which were part of the secret Fae code for using doorways. There was also a set of coordinates I recognized as being located in Duergar territory. The whole note was written in Maxen’s hand. He’d slipped it to Lochlyn to get to me. I was pretty sure Maxen had given me the key to get back into the realm through a restricted doorway. How he could have come by such information, I had no idea, but maybe diplomats knew how to get through some of the more secret doorways.