I bit my lip diplomatically.
“After the divide, my people remained on earth. We trusted men, held dominion alongside men. We were loyal allies. Their quarrels had always been with the magi and the fair folk, not with those who walked the land by their side, and so our kingdoms were united, for a time. There was trade, there was sport, there was courtly respect—but humans are only ever satisfied to be victors.”
Her eyes grew cold again.
“My ancestors watched as our people were slaughtered during the first of the Breed Wars. They packed their things and fled from their ancestral homes, fled from their own kingdoms, but there was nowhere for them to run. In each new country they were met with greater hostility. We are nomads now. The Om Caini are strong. We have made a good life out of what we were given, but we have not forgotten our past. We have learned to be guarded. We have learned the worth of human promises.”
“Human beings can be horrible,” I conceded. “Monstrous. But there are good people, too, if you really look. People who make the world better. This city is full of . . . of doors opening. Charlie taught me to see that. I cannot take away what was done to your family, but please try to see what Charlie sees. He sees hope. He believes in this town. He has seen it at its very worst, but somehow he still believes. He sees a future for us here, together.” Something unexpected stirred inside me as I put that into words.
“You still don’t get it,” Alina said, pushing herself up from the roots of the willow. “This is not Charlie’s future! This isn’t some silly human story about star-crossed lovers! Kazimir cannot stay here. Charlie may not have a throne and a castle to come home to, but he is no less a king. You have no idea how much it grieves me to watch him, my brother, Suveran of my people, running errands for an arrogant human fool and his insignificant assistant. You selfish humans would have a noble king as your lowly servant? How can you let him lower himself to this? Does it make you feel powerful? Does it make you feel proud? Our people need my brother. Why won’t you let him come home?” And with that she stalked off hotly toward the house.
“Charlie chose this!” I yelled after her. “Nobody is keeping him against his will!”
“Because that would be unthinkable,” came Morwen’s muffled voice from the cellar.
“Oh, shut up.” I slid down against the tree.
“Give her time,” Jenny said, drifting slowly to my side. “She’s young, she’s headstrong, and she’s overwhelmed in a strange new world. Sound familiar?”
“I wasn’t so bullheaded when I got off the boat,” I said. “I was nice.”
“It sounds to me like that girl has spent her whole life being taught to keep her guard up. It’s not her fault. It will take more than one uncomfortable afternoon around the house to bring it down. Be patient. Charlie loves her, doesn’t he?”
“He does,” I said. “I can’t imagine why. She’s a nightmare!”
“Why don’t you take your own advice, then, Abigail. Try to see what Charlie sees. He’s not such a terrible judge of character, you know.” Jenny gave me an encouraging wink. “He did choose you, didn’t he?”
Chapter Thirteen
Out of respect for my employer, Chapter Thirteen has been omitted. Accounts of these hours can now be found in the Dangerous Documents section, but only if you really know where to look.
Chapter Fourteen
As the day wore on, the mythical menagerie of creatures pervading our house had begun to settle into their own idiosyncratic routines. The ladies of a feather sharing my bedroom flocked together to the duck pond after lunch for a quick birdbath. The satyrs alternated between sneaking up to peep at them through the bushes and slipping into the library to harass the nymphs. Several swarms of spriggans, pixies, and other wee folk had found their way into the walls by midafternoon, which kept the passages a bit less crowded but generated a near-constant chittering, skittering sound that occasionally ended in eruptions of plaster. By early evening, Chief Nudd had returned with a few members of his horde and they had joined the gnomes at their dice game in the foyer.
In addition to the steady stream of the furry, flighty, and fantastical, I was also pleasantly surprised to greet a few familiar human faces. I had been checking on Shihab when I heard Hank Hudson’s voice in the hallway.
“Mr. Hudson,” I said, stepping out to greet him. “You’re back. Lovely. Is Charlie . . .” I glanced up and down the hallway.
“He an’ that sister of his skedaddled upstairs to have a little chat. Said he’d be back down soon. Jackaby around?”
“Ah, of course. No, he’s still out, but we’re expecting him any minute. Did you two meet with any support while canvassing the city?” I asked.
“Loads!” Hudson said, brightly. “Surprising amount, actually, along with one story after another about stuff ol’ Jackaby had personally done to save a shop, or soothe some ailing granny, or rescue some kidnapped baby. Yer boss sure keeps himself busy, don’t he?”
“He’s not a fan of sitting still,” I agreed. “Ah, that may be him now. If you’ll excuse me.”
The front door closed as I came around the corner. It was not Jackaby, but Lieutenant Dupin. He was off duty, but still wearing his uniform and visibly nervous.
I thanked him for coming and finally shared with him the full details of Steven Fairmont’s unholy rise from the dead, as well as Charlie’s and my part in putting a stop to the creature. Dupin listened attentively, looking solemn and a little wan by the end.
“I know it sounds like lunacy,” I concluded, “but there you have it.”
“Lunacy has become reality in New Fiddleham of late,” Dupin sighed. “Thank you for your report, Miss Rook, and for your service. Will you tell Detective Cane—or Barker, or whatever it is now—will you tell him that there are still officers like me who have not lost faith in him as one of our own. Marlowe may not have put his support in writing, but he has his own sort of inner circle. Some of us are still loyal to his command over Spade’s. We will heed the call when you need us.”
“You can tell him that yourself if you would care to wait,” I offered. “He just nipped upstairs. I’m sure he won’t be long. Why don’t I just put a kettle on?”
Dupin smiled regretfully. “Your hospitality does you credit, Miss Rook,” he said. “But I think, perhaps, I have overstayed my welcome as it is.”
I glanced behind me to see what he was talking about. The gnomes and goblins were glaring daggers at Dupin, and I could see several pairs of eyes peering out from the doorway that led to the rest of the house. None of them looked welcoming.
“Good night, Miss Rook, and good luck.”