Oscar Lucas was a slithery character, not uncommon for the Hollows, but perhaps knowing that he was willing to steal from his own kind made him seem worse than he was.

Whatever the reason, Reef wanted very badly to slap the Lycan’s oily face as he cowered in the corner of the barracks, only a chain attached to his ankle. Reef was surprised he hadn’t shifted in his upset, but he reasoned that even someone as scummy as Oscar knew better than to antagonize one of the dragon princes. His only hope for salvation was remaining humble, even if his eyes were glistening with malice.

“Oh! Thank gods!” Oscar moaned. “I thought I was being left here to die!”

“You won’t die unless I kill you,” Reef reminded him conversationally. He plopped down at Oscar’s side, kicking the tin plate of uneaten gruel away from him.

“How long are you going to keep me down here?” the Lycan complained. “Why don’t you just cast me off to purgatory and be done with it?”

Reef bared his teeth, his head jutting outward, his face transforming into a snout. Steam escaped his nostrils, and Oscar jumped.

“Are you telling me how I should handle your thieving ass?” Reef hissed furiously. “Tell me again what I should do.”

“No! No, boss! I-I never said anything like that!” Oscar cried, lowering his head into his arms protectively.

“Good.” Reef sat back, his handsome face overtaking the dragon scales, but his breaths still let out puffs of smoke. “Because I will leave you here to rot for eternity, Oscar. I really couldn’t care less what happens to you. You already stink. It can’t get much worse.”

“But Reef, I swear—”

“Did you just call me ‘Reef’?” the dragon asked in shock. “Seriously?”

“No! No, I said, ‘boss!’ Mr. Parker, boss!”

“Since we’re on the topic of bosses, Oscar, what makes you think you can go to my brother and be forgiven for your crimes? Surely even a pea-brained imbecile like you should know better than that.”

“I-I was just trying to help,” Oscar squealed. “I had information that I thought he could use, and I wanted him to know. I did what any good citizen would do.”

“Did you just associate yourself with being a good citizen? Are you okay?”

“I was just trying to help!” he whelped again.

“And yet you are absolutely useless. Isn’t that incredible?”

“I can’t help you anymore. I’ve told you everything I know about the mortal travelers.”

For over a week, Reef had been on Oscar, pressing him for every little detail of what he’d learned about the mortals in the Hollows, but he was beginning to realize that Oscar didn’t know much. The only thing Reef knew for certain at that point was that the pictures the Lycan had taken were authentic and not photoshopped. He’d sent them to Elsa, his best technician, and he believed her when she said there was no way they could be doctored. Reef hadn’t wanted to bring anyone else in on what he’d learned, but he had to be certain he wasn’t chasing a scam.

“Tell me again where you took those pictures.”

“I told you,” Oscar groaned, but the look on Reef’s face seemed to change his tone instantly. Oscar cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “I was outside a bodega, kinda hidden—”

“Because you were casing the place, yeah,” Reef rushed him. “Then what happened?”

Oscar’s jaw firmed, though he wisely didn’t argue Reef’s assessment. “I saw them in a small group, huddled together and looking terrified. Of course, I knew they were mortals—you can smell them from a mile away.”

“I’m aware,” Reef grunted. “Go on. You whipped out your phone and started snapping pics of them? Who was with them? Surely they weren’t alone.”

“Maybe their ‘tour guide’ sensed me there and made himself scarce. Who knows? All I know is that they were walking freely. They weren’t contained. I didn’t think that the mortals could survive the portals, so I thought maybe I was wrong, that maybe they were Brownies or something, something with weak abilities,” Oscar said. “I thought maybe they were hybrids with overpowering mortal genes. I never thought that they could actually be real, you know? Not until I saw the second group a week later, in a completely different section of the Trenches.”

“And it was always in the Trenches? Never anywhere else?” The Lycan shook his head.

“I knew this time that it had to be something else going on,” he continued, “so I followed them and listened to their conversation. They thought they were on some paranormal tour.” Oscar whooped with laughter, as he always did when he told that part. “Stupid mortals. They pay money to look for things that are right in front of their faces.”

“Can you skip the commentary?” Reef growled. “Think hard. Which portal could they have accessed?”

“There are hundreds of portals in the eastern hemisphere!” Oscar whined. “How the hell would I know?”

Reef’s mouth twisted into a grimace, and he advanced on Oscar again. “You better find something better than that to tell me.”

“So what’s the big deal if a few mortals sneak in here anyway?” Oscar complained. “They can’t possibly understand what the Hollows are. What’s the harm if someone is trying to make a few bucks?”

“You know who it is, don’t you?” Reef asked, stepping forward. “Tell me who this tour guide is.”

Oscar’s eyes widened. “I swear I don’t know! You have my word.”

Reef snickered and whirled away, but as he reached the door to the barracks, he paused, pivoting back as something occurred to him.

“What did they sound like?” Reef asked suddenly.

“Who?” Reef was unsure if Oscar was so adept at playing dumb that he simply appeared that way or if he actually was an idiot.

“Who do you think?” he demanded. “The mortals! What did they sound like?” Oscar gaped at him, apparently not understanding the question. Reef inhaled to contain his aggravation. “What language were they speaking?” the dragon tried. He hoped Oscar had enough sense to at least identify that much.

“English…” Oscar’s eyes grew larger, and Reef felt a spark of excitement building in him. The Lycan seemed to be remembering something. “They had southern accents. Texas? Alabama? Something like that.”

That narrowed the search down, but not by a lot. There were still a lot of portals to check. If there was only one.

Even though the task before Reef was daunting, he willed himself not to get overwhelmed. He left Oscar in the barracks, blocking out his whinging cries. If he hadn’t needed the little cockroach so badly, he happily would have carted him off to purgatory, where he belonged, though Reef had a feeling that Oscar knew more than he was aware.

As he stalked up through the dank underbelly of the palace, sidestepping rats as he moved, he wondered what his next course of action should be.

Even if Reef were to check every portal in the southern United States, how was he supposed to prove it was the one he was looking for? He couldn’t very well grab an unsuspecting mortal and shove him through as a test. Again, he was plagued with the question of how this tour guide had learned such a feat was possible.

Reef shuddered to think it had been a matter of trial and error. Unless, perhaps, the tour guide had found some miracle drug that gave the mortals temporary powers? There were too many questions and not nearly enough places to start looking for answers.

Reef stalked toward the residential part of the palace. He needed a shower and some rest before devising a game plan for finding the tour guide and bringing him to justice. He paused when someone called out his name. When he turned, Reef stared with surprise. Keppler stood with his arms wide open, grinning at him.

“What are you doing down here?” Reef asked in disbelief, pulling his brother into a hug. It was almost as odd to see Keppler in the Hollows as it was to see a mortal those days.

“Meh, paperwork,” Keppler answered. “How is there still paperwork? I thought I’d dealt with all this crap already.”

“You know why,” Reef laughed, clapping his brother on the back, gesturing him to follow him back into the kitchen. “Wilder misses you, but instead of saying it, he plies you with unnecessary documents to tend to.”

“He has a weird way of showing affections, that one,” Keppler chuckled, but his smile faded when he looked at his brother closely. “What’s going on?”

They stopped walking, and Reef looked around nervously, shaking his head. “We can’t talk about this here.”

Keppler frowned deeply. “That doesn’t sound good.”

They continued toward the commercial-sized kitchen, which was to be used exclusively by the princes when they were in the palace.

Keppler was the only one who did not stay regularly, although he did have a suite perpetually at his disposal. He also owned a chain of hotels and properties all throughout the Sunside. He never lacked a place to stay.

“What happened?” Keppler asked when they were in the kitchen, seated at the island with cups of coffee. Reef had thrown everyone out to give them privacy.

“Mortals are making their way into the Hollows, and I have no idea how.”

“What?! That’s not even possible, Reef.”

“It is, and it’s happening. There might be some wandering around as we speak.”

“How? When? How long has this been going on?” Keppler demanded, appearing as shocked as Reef had been when he finally found it to be true.

“All questions which still need answers.”

“If Wilder finds out about them…” Keppler grunted, shaking his head. Wilder was not known for his merciful traits.

“Never mind Wilder! They can’t return to the Sunside with the knowledge that we’re down here. I have to find out who’s responsible for this atrocity and then hunt down the mortals who have been here.”

Keppler’s eyes narrowed slightly. “I suppose you’re right,” he muttered. “What other choice will you have? Wow. What a mess, brother. You sure you don’t want to give up the Authority and come into real estate with me?”

Reef grunted, knowing that his brother was teasing him, but at that moment, nothing was more tempting than his offer. He’d often rued the day he’d taken over the Authority, though none more so than that minute.

“I’ve got to figure this out before it gets out of hand,” he said. “I don’t know how they’re managing to do this without attracting more attention. To my knowledge, only one immortal has seen them. How is that possible?”

“How did they survive the portal to begin with?” Keppler wanted to know. “In the entire history of the Hollows, it’s never happened.”

Reef groaned again and nodded wearily. “Trust me; I’ve been going through all of it in my mind over and over. My brain is fried.”

“I wish I could help you. I mean, I can keep my ears open on the Sunside, but let’s face it, my information isn’t what it used to be.”

“You’ve got other things keeping you occupied,” Reef teased.

“Still, you never know what might shake out. It can’t hurt to put out feelers,” Keppler suggested.

“Maybe,” Reef agreed, but he wasn’t convinced that would help his cause as much as he needed. “Whoever it is will be disguising these trips as paranormal tours somewhere. My informant tells me that the mortals apparently have southern accents—US citizens.”

“Well, that’s a broad place to start, but I suppose it’s better than nothing. We have several haystacks and one needle.”

“At least we’re not at the bale manufacturing warehouse,” Reef replied optimistically, and Keppler snickered.

“Glass is half-full, huh, brother?”

“I have to tell myself something to keep me sane,” he sighed. “Thanks, Keppler.”

They continued to sip their coffee in near silence, each lost in their own thought. Keppler was undoubtedly thinking of how else he could help find the tour guide. Reef was thinking about a good place to dispose of mortal bodies in the Hollows—if he caught them down here, he would have no other choice than to kill them.