Grave Dance (Alex Craft, #2)(33)

hundreds of ice crystals tracing the man’s skin.

Welcome to Faerie.

“I’m the changeling Rianna, currently in Stasis. And this is

. . .” She glanced at me, squeezing my hand once before dropping it. “My dear friend. I have permission to use this hal to travel between Stasis and the mortal realm.”

The guard held out his hand, palm up. “Let’s see it, then.”

Rianna dug a thin chain out from under the col ar of her dress and tugged it over her head. A blank pendant shaped like an ice crystal hung on the end of the chain, and she dropped it in the guard’s palm.

He whispered a musical-sounding word and the pendant glowed a deep cobalt blue. With a nod, the guard handed the chain and pendant back to Rianna. “Fol ow me. I’l escort you to the door.”

Rianna fol owed silently, so I did the same. Desmond brought up the rear, his nails making the softest clinking sounds on the ice. At first I tried to memorize our route, but as the guard led us down one identical hal way after another I lost track of how many lefts and rights we’d taken.

I’ll definitely need a guide to get back out of this place.

Final y the guard stopped. He gave Rianna a nod and then stepped aside, motioning us to a doorway. Except it wasn’t a doorway at al . It was a large archway set into the wal .

I stared at the unbroken ice wal inside the arch. “Um.”

“It’s the door,” Rianna said, locking my arm with hers again.

“It wil take us anywhere we want to go in Faerie, as long as we know where we want to go. Now you have to trust me.

And don’t let go.”

She stepped forward, into the wal . Oh, crap. I squeezed my eyes closed and fol owed.

The world froze around me. I gasped, sucking in solid frozen air, and a sharp ache fil ed my lungs. Panic stung my mind, flooded my muscles, but I couldn’t move. Then, as suddenly as the world had frozen, it thawed, turning as comfortable as bathwater. I released the frozen gasp I’d comfortable as bathwater. I released the frozen gasp I’d taken, and the pain in my chest vanished as warmth spread over my body. Again I didn’t feel like I was moving, but the world slid out of focus, like a child smearing his hand through a painting that was not yet dry. Then it solidified again, and I was standing in a cavern that held a castle. Not just a big house, but an honest-to-goodness, large-stonefacade-with-turrets-and-towers castle. There was even a moat—though why anyone would build such a thing in the bel y of a cave was beyond me. As I stood there staring, the drawbridge lowered and a portcul is made of twisting vines lifted to clear our path.

Rianna beamed at me. “Welcome home, Al!”





Chapter 9


“Home?” I stared at the large stone wal . At the moat of crystal clear water. At the jutting spiral towers. “This isn’t a home. This is a castle!” Like a castle straight out of the Middle Ages. Or a fairy tale. Welcome to Faerie, Alex.

“Do you want to go inside?” Rianna al but bounced on her toes as she asked. “It opened for you. It’s yours.”

“And it’s about time,” a rough female voice said behind me.

I turned, but didn’t see anything. My confusion must have shown on my face, because Rianna pointed toward the ground. I obediently looked down.

A woman who stood no higher than my knee stared up at me. She was nearly as wide as she was tal , so she looked like a waddling basketbal wrapped in burlap as she gave me a quick once-over, and then, with a nod, marched past me.

“Wel , get a move on,” she cal ed over her shoulder. “I’m sure there’s a layer of dust on everything by this point.”

I gaped at the smal woman and then looked to Rianna for explanation.

“Wait, Ms. B,” Rianna cal ed after the woman. “This is Alex.”

The smal woman paused. “Wel , of course she is.” Ms. B

curled her lips in what might have been a sneer or a smile

—I wasn’t sure which. “Now, I’ve work to do.” She hopped onto the castle’s drawbridge, the hair that exploded around her head like overgrown spider-grass trailing behind her as she walked away without a backward glance.

she walked away without a backward glance.

“Uh, Rianna . . . ?” I looked at my longtime friend.

“Ms. B is a brownie. Think of her as a housekeeper, cook, and general organizer of al things inside the castle.”

“I can’t afford a housekeeper!” And I certainly couldn’t afford to keep a castle. I was barely able to stay on top of paying rent on an efficiency.

“Don’t be sil y. You don’t pay brownies. Faerie may say you own this property, but trust me, this is Ms. B’s castle.

She went absolutely crazy when she couldn’t get inside—

tried to take the wal apart stone by stone. Not that Faerie let her. She was here before Coleman claimed the castle, and she’l stil be here when the castle changes hands again.” She didn’t elaborate on how I might lose the castle, but hurried on. “My suggestion is to make friends with her.

She never liked Coleman. On the few occasions he stayed in the castle every meal came out burned, the ceilings leaked, moths attacked every scrap of material, and sand wound up on the bedsheets. He’d leave and everything would return to gleaming order. Brownies are good at holding a grudge.”