By Fairy Means or Foul: A Starfig Investigations Novel(58)

He harrumphed. “I’m going to have to file a form ACS2b3F now. You’ll need an extension to stay until we can file the necessary paperwork to get you permanent residency.” He rubbed his temple like a massive headache was coming on.

“I have permanent residency.”

“Under the assumption you weren’t a real dragon.”

“A real . . . What in the lower realms does that mean? I’ve always been a real dragon.” If Quinn hadn’t been sleeping I would have snarled. My father sure knew how to stab someone in the heart.

“Yes, yes,” he waved his hand dismissively, “I meant for the purposes of the Ogbad Accord. Never mind, never mind, I’ll handle it, like I always do. Zephyr’s Principles of Transmorphaeting Creatures has some language which could be . . . interpreted . . . in such a way to make this process a little easier. We’ll see.”

Forcing myself to take a deep breath and let it out, I said, “Dad, I didn’t call to talk about my residency status, either. I need to know where Nyx is living these days.”

I watched my father’s face turn from bureaucratic ecstasy to horror. “We don’t discuss him. Ever.”

“I know. But I—”

“I’ll get on the paperwork for your temporary residency and you can sign the papers once you return to Lighthelm. We’ll have to be on it quick or Novus Greyclover will cause a stink. He really likes to tweak my nose when he gets the chance.”

“Dad. Listen, I really need to know where Nyx is. It’s important. I promise I won’t mention him again, but I know you know where he’s staying. I’m asking you for help.”

If I didn’t know better I’d say my father shuffled his feet for a second before straightening. “I’m aware he hurt you, Twig. I’ve said it before; I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. A father can sometimes be blinded by being too close. But seeking him out is foolish. He . . . he’s lost to me . . . to us now.”

I tried not to roll my eyes. My father had the wrong impression here. Not too surprising, since it was one of the few things that still hurt him. Probably because he had been wrong. So wrong.

“Dad, I’m not going to hurt him or try to save him. But I do need to see him. Don’t make too much of it, okay?”

“I understand needing closure—”

“It’s you who needs closure, not me.” I pressed my lips together to keep from saying more and crossed my arms over my chest as though physically restraining the words that ached to burst from my throat whenever Nyx was the topic. Dad gave me a look full of pity. Great. Just what I wanted.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea—”

“Please.” It felt like chewing glass, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

He sighed. “It goes against my better judgment.” He sighed again. “He’s living in the Golden Hills of Wiffleweather. On The Huge Hill.”

“So, Wiffleweather, then. Good to know.” The mountains weren’t my first choice, but they were as good a place as any to take on the bane of my teenaged existence. He would pick The Huge Hill. I deserved a medal for not rolling my eyes at Nyx’s Naphaeleon complex.

Inadequate much?

“You planning to tell me about it?”

“Probably not.” I smiled. He shook his head, but I swore his lips turned up in a bit of a smirk.

“Be careful. He’s . . . unstable.”

“Believe me, I know. And I will. Thank you.” I ran my hand over my father’s image and it vanished.

“Your father is never dull, I’ll say that.” Quinn sat up in bed, rubbed at his eyes. How long had he been listening?

“I didn’t mean to wake you.”

He shrugged. “Don’t mind.”

I smiled at him. His hair stuck up in cute clumps and his neck looked like a very clumsy vampire had attacked him. Instead of shame, a possessive thrill shot through me. Mine.

“You going to explain why your dad was acting so weird?”

I groaned. “It’s a bit of a story. Nyx is my half-brother.”



Quinn shoveled another bite of pancake into his mouth. Once again he ate his weight in food. I’d never seen a human eat so much. Must have something to do with our link, or perhaps his magic. Did witches eat like this too?

“Wha?” he said with his mouth full. He poured a sticky saber-tooth syrup over the quickly disappearing stack—his third—and continued to chew. Swallowing, he glanced around our room like we’d be overheard. “You really okay to go after your half-brother? Maybe we can figure out a way for me to go and you can stay nearby. That way you wouldn’t have to see him if you don’t want to.”

“Why wouldn’t I want to see him?” I leaned forward on my elbow, enjoying the sight. He’d managed to tame his hair and had wrapped a cowl around his neck to hide most of the marks, but some still showed through, and stubble burn streaked across his chin. I liked it. A lot. As if reading my thoughts, his cheeks reddened. I grinned.

“Stay on topic, please. I heard what your dad said. Nyx obviously did something to you.”

“He did. He made my life a nightmare when I first came to live with my father. I was thrown out of my clan at fifteen and was still just a kid really. Nyx didn’t take well to what he saw as competition for my father’s affection.” I snorted. “I could have told him that our father doesn’t feel affection for anyone. Not in his makeup. But for some reason Nyx wanted it. Craved it. It made things . . . unpleasant. When my dad finally figured out what was going on and confronted Nyx about it, Nyx didn’t handle it well.” Understatement.