Grave Visions(40)

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.”

Did I have a choice? There were other courts. Other rulers. My bargain with the queen wasn’t complete so I wasn’t bound to inform her if I went to another court. Maybe some other ruler would let me become independent. But what will I have to trade to them? I wouldn’t know until I tried.

The queen’s eyes narrowed, obviously reading the resolve on my face. She sighed. “At least come back to Faerie with me. You’ll fade slower there,” she said, and then something else occurred to her, and she smiled, the curl of her lips sly. “And in Faerie you still have a chance to complete your side of the bargain. Help me find this killer, and I will be bound to grant your status.”

She had a point. Maybe even a good point. But what good would blundering around Faerie really do for me? My grave magic, while neither offensive or defensive, was the one power I was really good at, and I had no access to it in Faerie. My witchy spell casting was dismal at best, my sensitivity to magic didn’t do a lot in a land where almost none of the residents could channel Aetheric energy, and I didn’t understand my planeweaving abilities—or the planes in Faerie for that matter—well enough for it to be helpful. I’d be like a child blundering around in a world I didn’t fully understand. What chance did I have there to find the alchemist?

But what chance did I stand here?

“How many Sleagh Maith are in the winter court?” I asked.

“Too many to remand all to my dungeons for questioning.”

And the fact she’d considered that a possible option was exactly why I had no intention of joining the winter court.

I rubbed my temples with a finger and thumb. I wasn’t sure when my head had started hurting, but the headache was to the point of pounding now. I needed some sleep, and a clear head. But first I had to get to Tamara’s rehearsal dinner. I wasn’t late yet, but I would be soon, and I definitely didn’t want to chance passing through the door to Faerie again. I might miss the wedding entirely if it decided to act up and spit me out in the middle of next week. Maybe I’d go back to Faerie to search and ask some questions after the wedding. If I couldn’t find any other solution to my court problem, I might have no other choice.