by Box Set
Oh yes I will. “I think you’ll find I’m quite open-minded,” I say, giving him my most enticing smile.
He turns to me, searching my face. He’s going to tell me, I know he is. “Um … no, I shouldn’t. It isn’t my place to—”
“David, thanks for coming.” Mr. Hart appears out of nowhere and grasps his son’s hand. He pulls him into a brief hug, then steps back. “I need to show you something.” He glances at me, but shows no sign that he recognizes me from yesterday morning. “Uh, can we talk in private?”
“Of course.” David’s hand slides away from my back. “You don’t mind, do you, babe? I won’t be long.”
“Sure, okay.” Of course, if I actually was his girlfriend, I would mind being left alone, but perhaps this way I can listen in on their conversation.
I take note of the direction they’re going in, then hurry across the room to Ryn. My feet wobble in their too-high heels, and I catch onto the arm of an older man for balance. “Oops, sorry.” I give him an embarrassed laugh before continuing on my way. Ryn is standing in a corner, caressing the cheek of the blonde woman. It looks like he’s leaning in for a kiss. I suppress an eye roll and grab his arm. “Come, we need to go.”
“Hey!” Miss Blondie looks extremely put out. “We were—”
“Trust me, you’re not missing anything,” I tell her as I pull Ryn away.
“Trust you?” Ryn looks sideways at me. “How exactly would you know if she’s missing anything or not?”
“I may have been six years old, but I haven’t forgotten.”
“Ah, yes.” He nods. “Our first and only kiss. Well, you’ll have to trust me when I say my kissing skills have improved since then.”
“Whatever. Mr. Hart and his son are about to have a private discussion, and I’m pretty sure we need to hear it.” I let go of Ryn’s arm as we pass through another room of chattering, sophisticated people.
“I see you were getting your flirt on with Mr. Hart, Jr.,” Ryn says. He lifts a glass of something bubbly from the tray of a passing waiter and takes a sip before placing the glass on a low table.
“At least I was flirting with someone connected to our assignment. And what are you doing drinking human alcohol? You know what that stuff does to us.”
“It was just one sip. You know it takes at least four to get a faerie drunk.”
“Wonderful. My assignment partner is a quarter of the way to being drunk.” We turn into a hallway just in time to see Mr. Hart opening the door of his study. He ushers his son inside, then shuts the door. “Okay, we need to open a peephole into that room and find out what’s going on.”
Instead of replying, Ryn stares over my shoulder. His expression is a mixture of confusion and horror.
“What is it?” I start to look behind me, but he grabs my shoulders.
“Nothing!” His grip prevents me from turning. “I thought I recognized someone, but I was wrong.”
I pull away from him and look back down the hallway, but whoever was there is now gone. I turn back to him with a frown. “Why don’t I believe you?”
“Because you’re suspicious by nature?” He laughs in a way that doesn’t seem natural. “Remember Cecy?”
“Of course I remember Cecy.” She was a friend of ours when we were younger. Her parents were several centuries older than ours, and when they retired from the Guild they decided they didn’t want their only child to have a guardian’s life. They moved away from Creepy Hollow around about the time of my father’s death.
“Yeah, well, I thought I saw someone who looks like her. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. Let’s get into that study.”
Crap, the study! Who knows what we’ve missed already. Ryn writes on the hallway wall with his stylus, and I hold onto his arm as we walk through the doorway. “Did I tell you about the time Zell followed me through the faerie paths without having any contact with me?”
“That doesn’t sound right,” Ryn says as darkness envelops us.
“I know. He couldn’t possibly have known what destination I was thinking about. So either we were taught the wrong thing about faerie paths, or Zell knows some special way of—”
“Shh, I’m trying to concentrate.”
I shut my mouth, and Ryn opens two peepholes on the bookshelf side of Mr. Hart’s study.
“Are you sure you’re not having some kind of mental breakdown, Dad?” David is leaning against the desk, while Mr. Hart paces across the study’s floor.
“You saw this metal thing behind my ear, didn’t you?” Mr. Hart pauses in his pacing to point at his neck. “How could a mental breakdown produce that?”
“Well, okay, I guess it can’t. But perhaps you had a little operation you forgot to tell me about. Maybe it’s some new kind of hearing aid you don’t remember having put in.”
“Rubbish.” Mr. Hart continues pacing. “There’s nothing wrong with my memory. And why are you arguing with me now? You seemed to believe me when we spoke on the phone.”
David scratches his head. “I was trying to calm you down.”
“Calm me down?” Mr. Hart’s fists are balled at his sides, and a vein throbs visibly on his forehead.
“You’re asking me to believe in faeries, Dad.” David throws his hands up. “Can you see the problem here?”
“The problem isn’t believing in them, David. I’ve known about them for years. Ever since we moved into this house.”
“What?” David’s brow furrows. “You didn’t mention that on the phone.”
“Because that wasn’t the point! The point is that my life is being threatened. My family members are being threatened.”
“By fictional characters,” David mutters.
Mr. Hart ignores his son’s comment and collapses into an armchair in the corner. “All these years of throwing the best parties,” he says wistfully. “The magnificent food and drinks, the out-of-this-world entertainment.” He shakes his head. “It’s finally come back to bite me in the ass.”
“What are you talking about?” David starts to look concerned as his father leans forward and rests his head in his hands.
“Shortly after we moved here, a faerie showed up in this very room one night and explained that the house was actually his. He claimed to have many homes, some in the fae realm and some here. He didn’t want any of his own kind knowing this house belonged to him—he liked to hide things here, he said—so he allowed us to continue living here as a cover-up. Then he showed me the underground part of our home.”
“The underground part?” David looks even more confused now.
“He forbade me from telling anyone about it, of course. But I need your help, and it seems this is the only way you’ll believe me.” He stands up, walks behind his desk, and removes a bottle of whiskey from a low drawer. He carries the bottle to the potted plant in the corner behind the door, unscrewing the top as he goes.
“Okay, I think you’re taking this too far now, Dad.”
“I took this too far the day I agreed to continue living here.” And with that, Mr. Hart turns the bottle upside down and pours it over the plant. Instead of liquid, a black dust comes pouring out. The plant shimmers for a moment, then disintegrates into multi-colored wisps of cloud before disappearing. In its place is a perfectly round hole in the wooden floor. Steps lead downward.
“Oh. Holy. Cow,” David whispers.
“Indeed.” Mr. Hart locks his office door before heading down the stairs. “I’ll assume you’re following me, David.”
Ryn waits for David to follow his father, then widens the opening out of the faerie paths. “We need to be careful,” he says. “It would be better if they don’t know we’re following them.”
“Yes, I get it, come on.” I slip my heels off and carry them in one hand as I lead the way down the stairs. I reach a passageway with white walls and a wooden floor, just like the rest of the house. Soft light filters down from small round circles in the ceiling. The end of the passage isn’t too far ahead, and Mr. Hart’s voice carries
easily back to us.
“I suppose I’ve always known I was nothing more than a toy to him. He made our parties spectacular with his enchanted food, drinks and entertainment. But it was all for his own enjoyment, I’m sure. He was just playing with us like dolls in a doll house.”
I get to the end of the passage and peek around the corner. Ryn puts his hand on my arm, as if to hold me back. As if I’d really be stupid enough to go marching in there. I stretch my neck a little further and see a room with a lounge suite in the middle and shelves lining the walls. Hundreds of objects sit on the shelves. Different colored stones, a chipped jug, a pulsating green blob, a kettle with red smoke wafting from its spout—this room is a treasure trove of … stuff.
“Is this he the same one who threatened your life?” David is walking slowly around the room, examining various objects, while his father sits on one of the couches.
“Yes. I told you what he gave me, didn’t I?” David nods and pokes curiously at a plant with wiggling gel-like leaves. “He was in a rush that night. He forced the box into my hands and told me to bring it down here immediately. He’d stolen it from someone, and this someone was after him. He said that if I told anyone about it he would make me watch the torturous death of every member of my family. And then he’d kill me.”
David looks up. “But you told me about it.”
“Because I’m desperate.” Mr. Hart rises from the couch. “I need your help getting away from here. I don’t want to be part of this anymore.”
“And you think I can help you?”
“I know you have friends who can help your mother and me … disappear.”
David stares at his father, his expression revealing nothing. “You think I have friends like that?”
“I know you do. Don’t think I haven’t forgotten about the fake driver’s license.”
David looks down, then around the room once more. “So where is this precious box that’s caused you so much stress?”
Mr. Hart walks over to the chipped jug I noticed and picks it up. He turns it upside down and out tumbles a small black box. “That’s the only way to get anything out of this jug,” he tells David. “If you put your hand inside, the jug bites you and forces your hand back out.”
“Bites you?”
“Yes. I found that out the painful way.”
With eyes full of wonder—and a little fear—David takes the box. He opens it carefully and pulls something out. A silver chain with a pendant. I can’t see much except that it’s small and simple. David holds it up in front of his face where it swings slowly back and forth. “What’s so important about this piece of jewelry that an entire family could die if anyone found out about it?”
“I don’t know. I’m just the keeper of these items. I have no idea what they do unless I find out for myself, and I lost my curiosity after I almost lost my hand.”
Ryn tugs me back around the corner and whispers, “We just need to get that necklace and we can leave, assignment complete.”
“I know. I’ll see if I can get it.” I open a doorway on the wall, then hesitate, biting my lip.
“What’s wrong?” Ryn asks. “Do you want me to do it?”
“No, it’s just … if we take the necklace and that Unseelie faerie returns before the Harts manage to leave, he’ll kill them all.”
Ryn nods slowly. “Probably. But protecting Mr. Hart and his family isn’t part of our assignment.”
“I know. But isn’t that the point of who we are? We’re supposed to protect people, Ryn, not put them in even more danger.”
He closes his eyes with a sigh. “Dammit. I know you’re right. I just really wanted to finish this assignment now.”
“Yeah, so did I.” I really, really want to finish it. We’d be back at the Guild three days early, a feat that could earn us loads of bonus points. But how could I live with myself if my actions caused a whole lot of innocent people to die? “Okay, I’ll go get the necklace, and you think about how we’re going to help Mr. Hart and his wife safely disappear.”
I walk into the paths and focus all my attention on the couch Mr. Hart was sitting on earlier. I catch the doorway the moment it begins opening, keeping it the size of a coin. I look out and see nothing but dark fabric right in front of me. It moves slightly as I hear David’s voice close by. Okay, so David is sitting on the couch now, and I’m behind it, unable to see anything. I close the tiny hole and imagine myself next to the arm of the couch instead—and that’s pretty much where I seem to be when I look out a second time. I can see over the rounded edge of the couch’s arm, over David’s knee, and straight toward a low rectangular table. Sitting on the table is the box.
I remove my amber and stylus from the strap around my thigh and quickly write a message to Ryn. Create a distraction so they both look away from the table. I return the amber and stylus and wait. Several moments later, I notice a blue spark hit the pot holding the wiggling-leaf plant. The pot explodes, sending soil in all directions. Mr. Hart and David jump to their feet immediately. I widen the opening, reach over the edge of the couch, and grab the box. I open it and slip the necklace out, then replace the box and step backward into the safety of the paths.
I create another opening near one of the walls and peek out. Mr. Hart is examining the remains of the plant, while David stands nearby, circling on the spot as he examines the room with his eyes. “Why did that happen?” he asks. “Does it mean someone’s here?”
“I don’t think so. But we should leave anyway. Now that I’ve proved to you I’m not insane, I think it’s time you helped me disappear. I just need to find—”
“No one’s leaving until I know exactly what’s going on here,” a new voice says. Cold, lazy, condescending. “And once my curiosity is satisfied, I’d be happy to make you disappear.”
Eight
Tall and slim and dressed entirely in black, the faerie stalks slowly across the room toward Mr. Hart. His hair is white-blonde with black streaks, and his eyes are cold black holes. Rings with multi-colored gems glitter on his fingers, and silver spikes protrude from the back of his boots.
Oh crap, crap, crap. Who is this guy? I’m not easily scared, but there’s something about him that freaks me out. I hurriedly shrink the necklace and pop it into one of the hollow balls around my neck. Should I go back to the passage to find Ryn? Should I stay here?
“Start explaining,” the faerie says. “Now. What is all this magical junk doing in a human home? Who gave it to you?”
My amber vibrates against my thigh, and I quickly remove it. Not in passage anymore. Antique wardrobe next to shelf with glowing orb. Come here. I look out the peephole. My eyes dart to the various cupboards and wardrobes around the room until I see the antique one beside an orb. I close up the hole in front of me and concentrate hard on being inside the wardrobe. I certainly don’t want to show up in front of it.
The darkness of the faerie paths is suffocating. It seems to take forever, but eventually I notice a sliver of light in front of me and feel a hard surface beneath my feet. I can also feel a presence invading my personal space.
“That you, V?” Ryn’s voice is right beside me.
“Did you invite someone else into a small, dark wardrobe with you?” I whisper back.
He chuckles quietly. “Not recently.”
“So what can you see from here?”
“Just about everything. The wardrobe doors don’t meet properly, so there’s a good view of the room.” I can see his outline as he puts his eye to the sliver of light. “Mr. Hart’s been stammering out some explanation I can’t really hear, and David’s looking edgy.”
“Well, I’m ready to jump out there and fight this faerie the moment he shows any signs of hurting them.”
“You think you can take on this guy in high-heeled shoes and a cocktail dress?”
“My shoes are in the passage, but yes. I could.” In all honesty, I’d probably fall flat on my butt if I tried to fight in heels, but I’m not about to tell Ryn that.
“This faerie obviously isn’t the one Mr. Hart was talking about,” Ryn murmurs, his eye still glued to the crack between the doors. “I wonder what interest he has in this situation.”
I press my ear to the door and try to hear what’s going on. With nothing else to look at, my eyes absently trace the profile of Ryn’s face. His perfect nose, his full lips, his strong jawline. His eyes are so blue I can make out their color even in the almost darkness. And those lips. Definitely kissable.
Okay, what? I push the startling thought aside immediately. Focus, Violet. I kneel down on the floor of the wardrobe and peer through the crack into the room.
“Things are about to get very bad for you,” the faerie says as he circles Mr. Hart and David like a predator stalking its prey. “Do you know why? Because you silly humans have been conspiring against the Queen.”
“W-what?” Mr. Hart stammers.
“Which one?” I whisper.
“That’s quite an accusation for two humans who probably have no idea of the existence of either queen,” Ryn says.
“B-but how?” Mr. Hart asks. He’s visibly shaking now. “What have I done?”
“You’re about to find out.”
The wall behind Mr. Hart ripples and melts away to reveal a woman in a long, flowing gown of black and silver. The two colors shimmer like coals in a fire. Black lace covers her arms and a choker of glowing pearls encircles her neck. Tiny crystals sparkle in her hair, which is black and blonde and caught up in an elaborate twisting style on top of her head. She surveys the room with a look of disdain.
“Holy freaking goblin babies,” Ryn whispers. “Do you know who that is?”
My mouth is dry as I whisper, “I think I can guess.”
There’s only one person it can be: The Unseelie Queen.
“Savyon,” she says in a commanding voice as she sweeps out of the faerie paths. “Have you found it yet?”
“No, but we’re in the right place,” the first faerie says. “This human has confirmed it.”
“Human?” The Queen walks slowly toward Mr. Hart. Without warning, her hand darts forward and wraps around his neck. She squeezes. “What do you know of my necklace?” she demands.
