“Ten percent,” I cut in. “I know, I know.”
I pushed my stiff hair off my forehead while he rummaged around on his desk for a tablet. He handed it to me so I could fill out the job info and sign for the completion of the assignment.
“When will the payment go into my account?” I asked as I worked my way through the forms.
“We’ll have to verify this is him.” Gus tapped his pen on the top of the box. “Guild rules. Can’t be filing false catches.”
I silently cursed. “And how long will that take?”
“Couple of weeks, if the lab mages aren’t backed up.”
I let my head fall back. The lab was always backed up.
Once I exited the Guild headquarters, my phone vibrated in its pouch on my scabbard.
I pulled it out, quickly flipped through my new assignment, and then let out a groan. It wasn’t a live catch—it was for the recovery of an object. Some piece of jewelry, but it didn’t really matter. Object recoveries were nearly always in a lower payout category than apprehensions of people. The payout wouldn’t even cover my half of the utilities for a month. But what really stung was that it was such a low-importance job. I wanted to be hunting vamps, not tracking down Grandma’s charmed locket that had most likely been swiped and pawned by hard-up Uncle Loser.
I blew out a long breath through pursed lips. I was being punished for needing an extension and then failing to bring in a live mark.
Silently fuming, I went back out into the sunshine and revved up Vincenzo. One of the reasons I’d moved from the San Francisco Bay Area to Idaho was for the lower cost of living. The area was also a hotbed of supernatural beings and activity, and one of the Guild’s largest offices was located in Boise. I figured between those things I was giving myself the best chance possible at surviving independently outside the stone fortress.
But it seemed it was all going to shit. Lochlyn and I had maybe a couple of weeks at best, if we could manage to dodge our landlord for that long. Oliver would probably help if he could, but I already knew he didn’t have money. Human currency wasn’t much use in Faerie, and those who lived permanently on the other side of the hedge typically didn’t accumulate monetary wealth. Each kingdom, or order in the case of New Gargs, had its own industries, but the money didn’t trickle down much in the semi-feudal system of Faerie. It didn’t really matter—I was too damn stubborn to ask for help, anyway.
I was halfway home when my phone vibrated against my chest. I pulled it out at a stoplight and saw Maxen’s name on the caller ID. It was a voice message from a call I must have missed while en route.
“Petra, we need you back at the fortress right away. The Duergar are making more trouble. We’ve got a new situation on our hands, and it involves you. I’m going to keep calling until I get you.”
That was it. I swore under my breath. Would it have killed him to give a little more detail?
My phone rang as I was staring down at it in irritation. Maxen again.
“Where are you?” he demanded, uncharacteristically terse.
“In Boise, just wrapping up my assignment. Marisol gave me until this afternoon to get back,” I said. “What’s the emergency?”
“Periclase has really decided to kick up some shit.” Maxen rarely swore.
“What variety of shit?”
“It’s better if we don’t discuss it over the phone,” he said.
He must have been paranoid about Unseelie spies bugging our conversation.
“Can I at least stop by home for a change of clothes?” I asked.
“We’ll get anything you need here,” he said. The phone sounded like it jostled a little on his end, I could hear someone trying to speak to him in the background. “I need to go.”
“Wait, did Emmaline make it back okay?” I asked.
“She’s here. Come back now, and find me when you arrive.”
The call went dead.
I steered around, changing course and heading back to the doorway in the parking garage that would return me to the San Francisco Bay Area. I was really starting to feel like a long-distance commuter.
On the way, I tried Lochlyn.
“Are you at home?” I asked when she picked up.
“Yeah. There were like four nasty notes on our door,” she said.
“Then you’re not going to like what I have to tell you.” I explained what happened with Van Zant and how the payout wasn’t just crap, but also delayed.
She groaned. “I’ll see what I can scrape together, but I’m basically tapped out unless I find another job, like, tonight.”
“I know,” I said. “And you already loaned me money, so this isn’t on you. We’ll figure it out.”
We hung up, and I tucked my phone back in its pouch.
By the time I pulled up to the stone fortress, it was mid-afternoon and some of the marine layer had burned off. It’d been a dry ride from Treasure Island, thank Oberon for small favors.
I parked Vincenzo and trudged into the Stone Order’s headquarters.
In the lobby, pages were scurrying around. I recognized a few of the diplomats who’d gone with Maxen to the Duergar palace. They all looked harried and tense. The entire atmosphere of the place made me want to turn around and leave.
Emmaline rushed up to me. “You’re here, thank the Old Ones. I’ll take you to Maxen.”
“Hey, Emmaline,” I said mildly, trying to counteract the stress that seemed to hang in the air. “How’d you escape the Duergar?”
She slid me a sideways glance of her lavender eyes, and her lips twitched in a near-grin. “I have a pretty good memory for the passages in the palace. I used a couple of them the guards didn’t know about and then ran out to the doorway in the forest where our diplomatic party came in before. Sorry I disappeared like that. I figured it would be easier that way, seeing as how I didn’t have a weapon.”
I nodded my approval. “That was the right decision. I knew you’d manage. We need to get you armed next time we have that kind of adventure, though.”
She looked very pleased at that suggestion, but her expression quickly faded to one of serious focus.
“What’s got everyone running around like scared mice?” I asked.
She shook her head. “No one in the lower ranks knows the details. Something to do with the Duergar and a new petition to the High Court.”
“Petitions are usually public, aren’t they?”
“Yeah, but this one is sealed.”
My stomach dropped a couple of inches at that news.
“What are the possible sealed-petition scenarios?” I asked.
“It could be any number of things,” she said. “Sometimes the information is sensitive and has to be discussed behind closed doors first so as not to put someone in danger or tip someone off. It might not be the Duergar who requested the seal. The High Court can seal a petition at its discretion. Maybe they need to deliberate on it and don’t want to cause a stir in the meantime.”
It was too late for that. Judging by the faces and energy around me, things had already been stirred.
“It could also be that a challenge was issued,” Emmaline continued.