Grave Visions (Alex Craft, #4)

“Do you know many ghosts?” she asked as I stumbled over yet another tree root.

“Not exactly,” I said, ducking under a tree branch but then had to stop to catch my breath. “Ghosts aren’t rare, per se, but they aren’t common.” I straightened, still breathing hard. I’d never been a marathon runner or anything, but I wasn’t typically this bad off just from hiking in the woods. I guessed this was another side effect of fading. I needed to catch up to the queen and find out how to cement my tie to Faerie as an independent fae.

Icelynne seemed as though she had more questions she wanted to ask, but I was in no shape to answer them, so thankfully she let me trip through the woods in peace. By the time I reached the road, everyone else was already loaded up in the cars. The queen showed no inclination to get back out or even lean her seat forward, and for a moment I considered trying to climb into the back over the side of the car. My exhausted limbs were not agreeable with the idea. Falin slid out and motioned me around. I expected Ryese to slide over and take the seat behind the queen, but he just smiled, forcing me to climb over his lap. I may have “accidentally” stepped on his foot. Twice.

I all but collapsed in the backseat, not caring that I was so scrunched my knees touched my chest. Icelynne regarded the car skeptically. I wasn’t sure if that was because she’d never seen one before—some fae hadn’t left Faerie for centuries—or because in the land of the dead the mostly plastic car probably looked as if it was melting onto a pockmarked road. Still, she crawled in, cramming herself on top of the knapsack between Ryese and me. She then spent the entire ride staring mournfully at the bag under her. Not that anyone besides me noticed. I felt for her, but had no idea what I could do, so instead stared out at the growing darkness surrounding the car.

With evening approaching, the street parking in front of the Bloom was packed with tourists’ vehicles. Falin took a side street and pulled into the small underground garage he’d parked in earlier. It wasn’t marked private, but most of the cars were the plastic and carbon fiber fae preferred—traditional cars had far too much steel and iron—so if I had to guess, I’d put money on the entrance being spelled so that only those who knew about the garage could see it or enter, much like the VIP door at the Bloom. That door was likely part of the reason this lot existed. Metered parking wasn’t great when the doors sometimes spit you out hours or days later than expected. I’d have to ask about getting a parking pass.

Once the car was parked, the queen immediately started toward the Bloom. The clip of her pace and the swing of her arms said she was done with the mortal world—or maybe she was about to go tear her court apart searching for an alchemist’s lab full of fae being drained to death. Probably both.

I jogged after her, and if it was anyone else, I would have grabbed her arm to stop her. But I had no interest in laying a hand on the Winter Queen.

“We have a bargain to resolve,” I said, already out of breath from the minimal exertion. I needed that tie to Faerie and I needed it now.

The queen swiveled on her heels and frowned at me. “You didn’t complete your part of the bargain.”

“I—”

“You agreed to find out who killed my subject. We still don’t know.”

I could have cursed myself. I’d worked enough cases with the police to know the victim didn’t always know who killed them. Sometimes they were blitz-attacked from behind, blindfolded while held, or the perp wore a mask. And even if they did get a good look at the attacker and a sketch artist rendered a drawing from the description, the shade couldn’t give any feedback on how accurate the sketch was. Of course some victims knew their attackers and could identify them by name, but definitely not all. And I knew that.

I should have paid more attention to the queen’s wording. Phrasing is important in a bargain. If I hadn’t been so focused on the stipulations she’d made, and how badly I needed my independent status, I’d have realized Icelynne needed to identify her attackers. The fae hadn’t been able to do that. Now I was stuck with an incomplete deal.

I expected the queen to be smug. After all, she’d gotten hours of free use from my ability. Instead she sighed, her shoulders sagging as if she almost regretted not being able to bend the deal we’d made and give me my year and a day. “I can still make you a member of my court. It would stop you from fading.”

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