Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(123)

The shadow we’d stepped through was cast by a large wardrobe that dominated most of one wal ; a smal bed huddled against another wal ; and in the far corner of the room was Hol y.

I let PC slide to the floor as I crossed the room in three steps. Her eyes were open, and she sat perfectly straight, her hands resting on her knees. She wore a pair of pink silk pajama bottoms and a white camisole that she must have changed into before lying down and the curse overtaking her. She didn’t move as I approached.

“Hol y?” Not so much as a twitch. I waved my hand in front of her face. “Hey.”

of her face. “Hey.”

Falin joined me. He gently moved her face toward us, but she didn’t even blink. “She’s entranced.”

“But a pretty dol ,” Kyran said.

I startled, spinning around to face the nightmare kingling. I hadn’t realized he was stil in the room. I’d expected him to return to his realm after he’d delivered us to Faerie, but as he settled against the wal , he looked like he planned to hang around.

I frowned at him. “She’s not a dol .”

“Al changelings are dol s. Some are just more autonomous than others.”

Dread slid under my skin. She wasn’t a changeling. Was she? How much time in Faerie could pass during a day in the mortal realm?

“Damn, Hol y, snap out of it.” I shook her shoulders. She slumped forward, and the dread sank deeper into my skin. I had found her. I’d traipsed through three courts, but I’d found her. And I stil couldn’t rescue her.

“It won’t help,” a squeaky, high-pitched voice said, and I jumped.

A wooden birdcage hung in the corner of the room, but the creature inside wasn’t a bird. It was a smal fae. He was no tal er than five inches and covered with fur, but his face was more human than animal and he wore clothes like a man.

I stood and walked over to the cage. “What won’t help?”

“Cal ing, shaking, or any means you use to gain her attention,” the little creature said, stepping closer to the edge of the cage, but not approaching the bars. “The mistress wasn’t sure if she’d need her, so the fire witch waits. Nothing wil wake her but the mistress.”

I shook my head. “That’s unacceptable.” We’d carry her out of here if we had to. Wel , I’d probably ask Falin to do it, but we’d get her out of Faerie.

I stepped closer to the cage and then faltered. Something was wrong in that corner of the room; I could feel it with was wrong in that corner of the room; I could feel it with every atom of my being. “Iron,” I hissed as I recognized the slight tingle. “There’s iron encased in the cage bars.” Which meant this fae was not a pet but a prisoner. I reached for the door, but Falin grabbed my wrist, pul ing me back.

“You don’t know what he is, why he’s in there, or what he’l do if released,” Falin said.

I frowned and studied the little creature. It had smal pink ears that looked like soft mouse ears where they stuck up around its brown hat, and big round eyes atop a human nose and mouth. It didn’t look particularly dangerous—but looks could be deceiving.

“Who are you?” I asked the smal creature.

“Tiddlywinx, best glamour spinner in the oak ring,” he said, doffing his pointed hat and giving me a deep bow.

“Is the oak ring a place?” I asked Falin under my breath.

“Probably just a ring of oaks, and this little guy is as likely to be the only one who lives there as he is to be the best glamour spinner,” he said.

I mouthed, Oh, and Tiddlywinx bal ed his smal fists on his hips as he glared at Falin. “You ruin a good title, Sleagh Maith.”

A glamour spinner, huh?

“I think I met a hydra you made,” I told the smal man.

He shot up at that, his hands clasped in front of him. “My hydra? You saw it? Was it the best hydra you’d ever seen?”

“It was the only hydra I’ve ever seen.” Wel , now we knew where the glamour on the constructs originated. The question was whether Tiddlywinx was a wil ing participant, as his excitement suggested, or coerced, as the cage made it appear.

Falin must have had the same thought because he asked, “Why did you cast those glamours?”

“Because if I refused she brought in more iron.” He shuddered. I imagined a fae as smal as he was couldn’t handle very much iron.

“And what wil you do if released?” I asked him, because

“And what wil you do if released?” I asked him, because as long as he wasn’t a creature of ultimate darkness, I was letting him out of that cage.

“I wil owe you a massive debt, Sleagh Maith.”

My brows creased as I glanced at Falin. “He means you,”

he whispered.

“Oh, I’m not—” Actual y, I had no idea what I was or wasn’t at this point. I dropped the sentence halfway through and changed direction. “And after that where wil you go?”

“Back to my oak ring. I have to see if the squirrels stole al the stores I’ve been gathering for winter.”

Good enough for me. But I stil had one more question.

“Your mistress—who is she and where did she go?”

The little man shook his head. “A witch of power. She was trapped until recently and now that she’s free, she stil can’t be with her lordly love. I think it addled her brain. As to where she went, I know not.”