By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(19)

I pointed to my nose. Took a big sniff.

“We’ve already established the horn isn’t in the building. But I’m sure you can summon it.” I looked at the rapt crowd. “You’d all like to see a unicorn horn, right?”

The crowd was eager now. They smelled blood. Their taunts became louder.

“You do have the horn, don’t you? I mean, you wouldn’t bet something you didn’t own.” A cardinal sin.

Rainbowpebbles squirmed. “Well, you see, it’s not so easy as all that.”

“So, you did bet something you don’t own anymore?”

“I guess you could say I lent it out to someone for a time.”

“How long?”

“A while.”

“Then you can get it back. I’ll come by tomorrow to pick it up.”

“That’s too soon.”

I looked at the crowd, shock writ all over my face. “I can’t believe it. He’s swindling me.”

“No! No, I’m not.” He held up placating hands, but I could see the crowd didn’t need much more to tip them over the edge. Violence was in the air. Which I would normally revel in, except I had Quinn to protect. He could so easily get hurt.

“Let’s cut to the chase, Rainbowpebbles,” I sneered. “You sold the horn, made a false bet with me, and are now trying to get out of it.”

“It’s not like that!” His voice rose at least an octave. “I had to give it away. Sahara Burningwood demanded it.”

The crowd gasped. Sahara Burningwood was a sprite who went so wrong that instead of focusing on life, she focused her substantial powers on death. Making zombies, specifically. Sprites were known for making plants and trees grow, but it was rumored anything she touched withered and died.

“Demanded it? You mean, she didn’t pay for it?” I was just baiting him now. Fuck it, I wanted payback.

“Nnnoo.” He shook his head wildly.

Liar.

“So since you defaulted on the contract, I guess that means you’d better make yourself comfortable in the Asylum.” Wrong Path Asylum—again with the uninspired names— was the Elder equivalent of a debtor's prison. Not a nice place to hang out, but he’d sealed the deal with magic, so it was within my right to demand the magic now restrain him.

“Wait! I have other things you might want.”

“Nah, I’d like to see you in a cell. You chained me to a wall, the least I can do is to return the favor.” I nodded to the gnome and he moved to clap his hands together to activate the magic.

“Please! There must be something else you want.”

I pretended to think it over. Oh so tempting to send him to a well-deserved cell, but one glance at Quinn’s hopeful face and I couldn’t do it.

“I want all your indentured servants.”

“I’ve got three here.” He nodded eagerly.

“No, I want them all. Including the virgin sprite.”

His face fell. “That’s too many. Perhaps just—”

“Every last one, or off you go.” I nodded toward the gnome again.

“All right, all right!” He snapped his fingers and a stack of parchment materialized.

“I said, all of them.”

“Fine!” Another snap and more scrolls appeared.

“Sign them over.”

He did so and within seconds, the servants began appearing. Brownies, imps, a couple kobolds, and even a cockatrice and a merman materialized before us. That group included the sprite. They all seemed either fearful or angry. Or both. I could relate. Rainbowpebbles wasn’t known for his gentle nature, after all.

One by one, I tore up their contracts much to their shock and delight. I wasn’t about to keep them. Even keeping Quinn in a temporary arrangement made my skin crawl. The look on the creatures’ faces was worth it.

“You’re free,” I said. “Make the most of your second chance.”

The majority fled the café as quickly as possible, but a few former servants advanced on Rainbowpebbles. He squealed and called his gargoyles to protect him.

I jumped in front of Quinn as other patrons either joined the fray or scurried for cover.

“Nice doing business with you, Rainbowpebbles.” Hurrying toward the exit, I pushed Quinn in front of me. I would have enjoyed turning more gargoyles to sand, except I couldn’t risk Quinn’s neck.

When we hit the street, I handed Quinn his ring. He curled his fist around it, holding it to his chest like I might snatch it back. The family crest engraved on the ring’s side told me it meant more to him than its magic.

“I’m not keeping your damn ring. But next time I tell you to do something, you’d better do it.” Scowling, I leaned into his face to emphasize my point. Whatever nervousness he’d felt around me seemed to have greatly diminished, like once he’d washed away the face paint he became a different person. Maybe he had. I liked this version a lot better than the fa?ade, though it would be convenient if he was a tad more obedient.

He shot me a cautious look, but didn’t flinch and kept his pace without faltering. Before, he’d moved in a seductive gait, hips swaying in an exaggerated fashion when he walked. All that had fallen away. He now strode with purpose, and I couldn’t help noticing with all the fragrance washed from his skin, he smelled divine. Like better than anyone I’d ever smelled. Even Brandsome. Not like sex or pheromones. A clean almost woodsy smell making me think of flying over a twilight-pine forest or rolling in pine needles. Not that I’d ever done either, though the image was compelling.