Carl went to sit on a rock at the mouth of the cave when it became apparent that the naked silver chick meant no harm, Talon was no longer trying to kill her, and that Talon was being yelled at for attempting to do so.

Talon still shot hateful glances at Barbie, even though he now recognized her from my first trip over here. Barbie was a silver Fae sprite that fed on sex. She was pretty cool once you got past the whole sex thing, which most couldn’t.

I’d also kissed her once and told her I loved her, which she seemed to recall quite vividly, trying to rekindle something that had never been kindled – me. I had explained repeatedly that I did love her, but not as a physical love. No lust. A familial love. A friendship love.

“Friends can have sex. Even some royal families have sex. I don’t understand the problem.”

It had taken me a few minutes to get past that, and all the while Talon was losing that instinctive anger as he stared at her – sometimes agreeing with her, and sometimes baffled at her thick-headedness.

I sat across a glowing orange stone that gave off heat. It wasn’t really a stone, but an orb of molten lava that maintained its spherical shape on its own, discharging heat. Much like a fire.

But since we were in Fae, nothing was as mundane as simply having a fire pit.

“Oberon is furious that you let Matthias return. And with a guest, no less,” Barbie finally said, answering the question of why she was here, having reluctantly accepted my answer on no means no. She didn’t bother putting on clothes, though, saying they chafed at her skin.

I shared a look with Talon. “Matthias came here? You can verify that?” I asked, careful to keep my foreknowledge to myself. I had been pretty sure Matthias’ note implied he had taken the Knight to Fae, but having verification show up at my front door the moment I arrived, and neatly wrapped up with a silver sex sprite demanding satisfaction made me uneasy.

“Did I not just say so, Manling?” she pouted.

“Where are they now?” I asked.

She glanced at me, not speaking for a few moments. Then finally said, “We do not know. No one knows. That is why Oberon was so upset. He sent me here to find answers…” she said, waving a hand absently at the cave around us. “He warned me of wards, but I felt none. At least, nothing that tried to stop me.”

I leaned forward curiously. Originally, my parents had placed wards around this hill so that anyone searching for them would not find their secret home in the cavern. But when I had last met Oberon, he had told me that the magic was fading from the place. Still strong, but not as strong. He’d made it sound like he couldn’t wait for the ward to drop so that he could explore the cave himself in my absence.

I almost said my next thought out loud, but remembering who I was speaking to, I closed my mouth. I had kissed Barbie, told her I loved her. Perhaps that let her find the place without issue? Or maybe the ward was entirely down, now. I wasn’t concerned too much about that, because we had scrubbed the walls of all evidence that I had ever been born here. Pan had made sure that my parents hadn’t hidden any other secrets in the cave – a stash of weapons for example, since they had been so keen on robbing others and storing their stolen goods all over the worlds. Worlds, plural.

The place was clean. No fear of anyone finding out anything specific on my past. By now, I was sure everyone knew I was a Manling born in Fae because I had shut down both Queens’ armies when they tried to attack us. But I still didn’t want anyone ransacking my home, seeing the cave paintings I had drawn with my dad. Smashing cups or plates I had once shared with my mother. Basically, this place was mine, and I would rather wipe it out myself than learn that anyone else had come snooping around.

I pondered Barbie’s answer. “If you know Matthias is here, and that he brought a guest, how do you not know where he is?”

Barbie studied me with a flat look. “I know the sun exists, but I do not know where it hides when the moons rise thrice.”

I sighed. I thought about explaining space to her, but remembering I was in Fae, perhaps my answer wasn’t right when it came to their sun and moons. And I didn’t want to get caught in a long discussion that she would have problems following.

As curious as we were about Fae, they were just as – if not more – curious about us Manlings.

“Pah. Let’s be done with this. The Hatter is back where he doesn’t belong, but once lived. And you are here for something. The Queens want your head. Why bother gallivanting in Fae?”

I sighed, waving Talon out of the cavern. He furrowed a brow, the scars that seemed to bisect his eyes prominent in the orange glow of the cavern. Then he was gone, his steps utterly silent.

“I like his slippers,” Barbie whispered, suddenly kneeling before me. Christ, what was with these crazy women all trying to give me a heart attack by kneeling naked before me?

She placed her hot palms on my thighs, staring up into my eyes. She squeezed. “Answer me or I will devour your pleasure.”

I tried to pull back, but her fingers suddenly dug into my thighs like claws.

“Fine. Just… give me some space. Please?”

She released her finger spears – if reluctantly. I made as if to move and she instead leaned her cheek on my thigh, staring up at me as she held my calves. It was a very great effort not to stare down at her, because even looking at her eyes, I had a direct shot at her every asset in my peripheral vision.

“I came here to recharge. To clear my head. And this is not helping.”

She laughed, a bubbling gurgle like a fresh stream tumbling over loose rock. “I knew I sparked your fire, Temple. Or is it Wylde?”

“Both, technically.”

“In one neat meat package, I get the fiery souls of two powerful men. You’re making it harder for me to restrain myself from gobbling you up, Manling…” she complained.

“Well, how about this?” I asked. Then I began to tell her, in brief, what I had been dealing with since we had last spoken. I knew I could trust her, because she had been there for me repeatedly, even standing up against the Wild Hunt, and losing some of her sisters in the process. She had been following Wylde at that point, but she had also served me before she knew about that. So I told her. About all the chaos. The fighting. The infighting. Matthias. My parents.

I didn’t tell her about Hell, or the Round Table, mainly because she interrupted me.

“If you won’t let me sex you, at least let me learn you.”

I frowned. “You mean teach? Teach me?”

She folded her arms below her breasts and I shifted in my seat awkwardly, crossing my legs. She grinned, licking her teeth as she glanced down at my concealed interest.

“The Fae…” she began, then tapped her lips thoughtfully, “do not negotiate.”

I chuckled. “Funny, because all I’ve seen your kind do is negotiate and make deals.”

She arched a brow at me. “You misunderstand, Manling. We make deals when it is more advantageous than killing our foe, or risking death by attacking superior forces.”

I thought about that. “Okay. We do that, too.”

“Of course, you do. Did I not just tell you that, Wylde? You are Fae.”

I blinked. “No, I meant humans. Manlings. They do much the same. And… I’m not Fae. I was born here, but born a Manling.”

She waved a hand dismissively. “Semantics. But humans are weak, petty creatures. We deal from strength and power. You… ‘deal’ by finding cowardly ways of stabbing your opponents in the back, all while pretending to be friends. We do it for prestige. A stunning victory. For fun.”

I frowned, shaking my head. “You are describing the same thing two different ways. We are the same. We double-cross each other, make deals, and go to war just like the Fae.”

“Ah, but do you? When we double-cross, all know it is coming. The only thing to discover is from which direction and how beautiful the victory will be. Or if you can turn it on your foe at the penultimate moment. You humans play with trust. Pfft. Trust is a Manling dream. Only power thrives.”

I thought about that in silence for a few moments. She had plenty of it wrong… but not all of it. She actually had a good point. When humans tried to stab each other in the back, it was usually slimy and cowardly. Very rarely was it appreciated as a tactful move between equal parties. In fact, everyone considered it tasteless when it was between two powerful parties.

It was not… respected.

But in the Fae, they applauded camouflaged mischief. Beautiful assassinations. Gorgeous murder. Epic betrayals. And… it was different. They established the rules up front. Always. Creating the rules of the game, knowing that the only true way to have the most beautiful victory was to abide by every single constraint, and still outmaneuver your opponent.

I finally turned to her and gave her a slow nod. It wasn’t a perfect explanation on her part, but then again, maybe that was intentional. The Fae liked to leave a lot of discovery to the student.

“Think about what I have not explained in your own time,” she said softly. “And a stronger lesson will be learned.” I nodded. “Now, when subterfuge is not worth the effort, there is war. Domination. Supreme annihilation. Such sweet, savory things, the screams of the fallen.”

I felt a shiver inch down my spine as I watched her eyes almost glaze over with a silver shine. Her body shuddered as if she had just taken care of a personal need, and then she was looking at me again. “What is ours, is ours. We protect it at all costs. Nothing may take it. Ever. St. Louis is yours, is it not? Your parents’ home?” I felt a surge of anger rush through me, but more than that. Pride. Defiance. Territorial rage. Before, I would have brushed it off as Wylde’s influence, but that line was becoming blurred lately, and it felt entirely natural to experience his take on events. “You must fight for it.”

“Yes. I guess it is mine. But don’t my friends need to stand on their own?”

She cocked her head. “Why would they need to do that? Are they not your allies? Are you not a Manling? The city is yours.”

She leaned forward, flashing her teeth as she gripped my chin. “Claim it. Take it. Make it so!”