“But, Miss Granger…” Father Michael said, Torn cut him off with the shake of his head.

  “No, the princess is right,” he said. “If we’re to rescue the demon and witch children, and free the gargoyle, we have to do it now. We’ve no time to lose.”

  “What he said,” I said. “Come on.”

  “But…what is my role?” Father Michael asked.

  “You’re our backup, Padre,” I said over my shoulder. I stopped, took a deep breath, and met his worried gaze. “And it’s your job to get the kids to safety. If we don’t make it out, you’re their last hope.”

  “I won’t let them down,” he said.

  A steely glint entered the priest’s eyes, and I nodded. If he said that he’d get the kids to safety, he meant it. When it came to protecting children from the evils of this world, the priest was a man of his word.

  I could trust Father Michael, even though one of those children was a demon and the man was a priest. At the end of the day, it didn’t matter. Whether he admitted it or not, Father Michael was a hero.

  Just like me.

  Not that I let it go to my head. In fact, at the moment, I was starting to wonder if I’d fallen on that head a few too many times during my training in Faerie. I palmed one of my knives reflexively, and lifted my hand to point over the priest’s shoulder with my blade.

  “Anyone else see what I’m seeing?” I asked.

  Father Michael lost his look of steely determination, and took a fumbling step away from the building at his back. But after mere seconds, he crept forward, leaning in to peer more closely at the writhing mass of beetles that had assembled on the wall’s brick surface.

  “What on earth…?” he asked.

  “Oberon’s great silver balls, Princess,” Torn said, eyes widening. “You do keep things interesting.”

  Torn watched the beetles in amusement, always pleased for the rarity of a new experience to break the tedium of a long, immortal life, but Father Michael was already hastily making notes in a small notepad he’d pulled from his shirt pocket. Judging from his scribbling, the priest was most intrigued by the size and number of scarab beetles, and the fact that they’d manifested magically so far from their native habitat.

  But aside from an involuntary shudder triggered by the scuttling sound of so many chitin covered exoskeletons scrabbling along the brick face of the building, I ignored the fact that they were beetles at all. What interested me most was what they were doing.

  The creatures weren’t just swarming. The bodies moved in a rhythmic dance that was dizzying to watch, but I didn’t allow myself to look away. A pattern was slowly emerging, but years of detective work had taught me to pay close attention to orderly patterns that appear amongst natural chaos.

  I hardly dared to blink as the beetles scurried, climbed, and scrabbled. But my P.I. instincts had been right. Within seconds, a circular form emerged from the writhing mass of dark bodies. The beetles formed an ever spinning circle.

  It was a message. Of that, I was certain.

  “A circle?” Father Michael muttered, hands twitching. His entire body seemed to quiver with unleashed energy as he watched the beetles raptly. “Interesting…possibly indicative of, but no…hmmm…”

  “Is there some reason why they’re moving like that?” Torn asked.

  I sighed, and rubbed a gloved hand over my face. How could I be so stupid? I’d become so focused on the post-vision beetle incident, and chasing after Sparky, that I’d forgotten all about Arachne’s mention of the Circle.

  “It’s from my vision,” I said, letting my hands drop to my sides. I looked away from the dancing beetles, and met Torn’s curious gaze. “Arachne mentioned something called the Circle. From what she said, it sounded like a coven. Maybe even a governing body for witches.”

  “The Circle?” Father Michael asked, moving toward me so quickly, I took a hasty step back and almost tripped over a fire hydrant. Thankfully, I had faerie reflexes rather than Jinx’s propensity for painful accidents. “What did she say? What else do you remember?”

  I held up a hand, halting his forward assault.

  “Give me a minute,” I said.

  I pinched the bridge of my nose, and closed my eyes. Slowing my breathing, I used the focusing techniques my uncle had taught me. I mentally placed myself back in that storage room, and inside the mind and body of a teenage girl who I was beginning to realize had a hell of a lot of moxie.

  “Arachne told Kaye that if the Circle found out about the dark magic she was doing, that they’d stop her,” I said. “She also mentioned something about the Circle having its own prisons.”

  I opened my eyes. That was all I got. I just hoped it was enough. I was done with visions and hexes, especially a hex involving bizarre beetle behavior. I swallowed hard, and ran a gloved hand through my hair.

  “So the beetles were sending you a message, again,” Torn said.

  “Yeah, and I’d bet that these Circle people could help us take down Kaye, and maybe even give us an option for safely containing her if it comes to that, but I don’t know of any group calling themselves the Circle,” I said.

  “Neither do I, Princess,” he said. “And I know all there is to know about this city’s secrets.”

  “That’s because the Circle has had no need to step foot in Harborsmouth for quite some time,” Father Michael said, tugging at an unkempt eyebrow.

  “Wait, you know about this Circle?” I asked.

  “Of course,” he said. “There are numerous references to the Circle in the Vatican archives. As you hypothesized, they are a governing body of witches policing rogues within the magical community. They are most prevalent in North America, though the Circle and I have never crossed paths.”

  I was surprised that the priest hadn’t sought this group out, but I kept my questions to myself. He’d stolen arcane items from the Vatican archives, and had likely been trying to remain under the radar when he came to this country. Seeking out a group of high profile witches probably would have attracted too much unwanted attention from Rome.

  But the priest’s hunger for supernatural knowledge was insatiable. I found it hard to believe that he wouldn’t have kept tabs on a group with so much potential information on witchcraft.

  “Do you know where we can find the nearest Circle members?” I asked.

  “Or one of their prisons,” Torn said, eyes flicking in the direction of the Emporium.

  There had been no sign of Humphrey since we’d left Arachne earlier, but we’d be smart to be cautious. Kaye could have eyes and ears anywhere. I hoped she was just too obsessed with revenge to make the effort.

  “As much as I hate to think about it,” I said, keeping my voice low. “That might be our only option.”

  It sure beat the alternative. I’d much rather subdue Kaye, and help her overcome her madness, than have to take her out. I’d killed when necessary, but that was blood I’d never wash off my hands. I still had nightmares, and those I’d killed had been enemies. I’d do what I had to to rescue those kids, but I couldn’t imagine coming back from killing a friend. Some things you can’t recover from.

  “Yes,” Father Michael said, nodding. “But the nearest Circle facility is a day’s ride away, assuming you can knock the witch out that long.”

  I slumped.

  “Damn,” I said. “I was hoping for help.”

  “Oh, but that is just the nearest prison,” he said. “Help should not be difficult.”

  “Stop speaking riddles, and spit it out, priest,” Torn said. “We’re running out of daylight.”

  “I didn’t already say?” he asked. “Sorry, it’s the kind of thing I forget isn’t common knowledge. Hardly seems worth mentioning.” Torn growled, and the priest hurried on. “B-b-but of course it is w-w-worth mentioning. Their location, that is. I mean to say, there’s a meeting house in nearby Branford Falls.”

  “That’s not far,” I said, licking my lip. “Ten minutes by car, twenty at the most.”


  “There is one more thing,” he said, eyeing Torn. “It may not be pertinent, but I’ve long suspected certain local covens of harboring inactive Circle members.”

  “Like sleeper cells?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “It is not an inapt analogy.”

  Torn cocked his head to the side, raising a scarred brow.

  “Who would these secret Circle members be?” Torn asked.

  His eyes were cold, and I felt a momentary pang of sympathy for whoever had hidden themselves so well as to draw the ire of the cat sidhe lord. His question was also a good one. I couldn’t shake the idea of a sleeper cell of Circle members snaring us all in a web of deceit. I was used to seeing what no one else can, so I was just as irritated as Torn, perhaps more. There is something innately terrifying about powerful magic users who can hide in plain sight.

  “And how do we know we can trust them?” I asked.

  “Oh, yes, well…I don’t think that will be a problem under the circumstances,” Father Michael said. “You see, I have the strongest suspicion that they are led by Fern Greatoak.”

  “Fern Greatoak?” Torn asked. “Sounds familiar. Who is she?”

  My jaw dropped open, and I shook my head. I too was familiar with the name.

  “Arachne’s mother,” I said.

  Chapter 28

  It all made sense. Arachne’s family pawning her off on a grumpy, old witch. How many times had I heard Arachne proudly say how her family had been trying for generations to enlist one of their sons or daughters as an apprentice to Kaye O’Shea.

  Arachne had been the first, and she might be the last.

  “It was all about checks and balances, wasn’t it?” I asked.

  “I do believe you are right,” Father Michael said. “Kaye has long been the most powerful witch in Harborsmouth. If the Circle wished to keep an eye on her, having a person on the inside would be the most effective method.”

  “They sent a child into that lion’s den?” Torn asked.

  I thought it over, and nodded.

  “And if I had to bet, I’d say Arachne did so knowingly,” I said. “Maybe not at the start, but she’s certainly become more vigilant lately.”

  “I did think she’d started acting strangely, even for a human teenager, but I assumed it was a response to my unearthly charm,” he said, running a hand down his leather-clad chest.

  “Are you referring to the use of faerie glamour?” Father Michael asked, brow furrowing.

  “No, Padre,” I said with a snort. “I’m pretty sure Torn here thinks all women want him.”

  “Well, don’t they?” Torn asked, giving me a smoldering, heavy-lidded look.

  I shook my head in the negative as the priest muttered, “I should think not.”

  “As much as I hate to admit it, Arachne did have a crush on you, but I agree she’s been different lately,” I said. “And not just when you’re around. I thought it was the result of her starting to grow up, especially after the fiasco with those fire imps she accidentally set loose on the city, but now I’m not so sure.”

  “If Arachne has infiltrated the Emporium for the Circle, do you think she will have managed to get a message to her mother and the other Circle members?” Father Michael asked.

  “I sure as Hell hope so, Padre,” I said. “For all our sakes.”

  Chapter 29

  Our attempts to reach Fern Greatoak were a bust, but Father Michael agreed to continue his efforts to contact the Circle so long as he remained our backup for getting the kids to safety. Getting the priest’s help was the easy part. In our haste to rescue the kids, and to enlist the help of the Circle, we hadn’t discussed the remaining details of this mission.

  Now we were less than a block away from the Emporium, which meant there was no time left for procrastinating. Apparently, Torn had come to the same conclusion.

  “I take it my job is scaling the building and climbing in through the skylight?” Torn asked, rolling his shoulders.

  “Not exactly,” I said. “I have a different plan.”

  “Why do I have the feeling I’m not going to like this plan?” he asked.

  I explained what I had in mind, and Torn scowled.

  “Stop complaining,” I said around a mouthful of granola bar. I wasn’t hungry, and the food tasted like ash on my tongue, but chewing kept me from grinding my teeth. Plus, it helped wash the vile taste of beetle puke from my mouth. I also suspected that talking with my mouth full grossed Torn out, and these days I get my kicks where I can. “If you keep frowning like that, you’ll have permanent lines on your face.”

  It was something Jinx had threatened me with a million times. Unlike me, Torn was vain. He stopped frowning. Too bad that didn’t keep him from speaking.

  “I am the stealthiest of us all, and you know it, Princess,” he said.

  “Yes, and that’s exactly why they’ll suspect you’d be our first choice for infiltration,” I said. “So they won’t suspect a thing if you approach from the front, and keep Humphrey busy.”

  “Everything we know about Arachne, even her connection to the Circle, is mere speculation,” Father Michael said. “How can you be sure this isn’t a trap?”

  Food lodged in my already raw throat, but I swallowed hard, and forced a smile.

  “We can’t,” I said. “But I don’t think Arachne hexed me with something as nasty as a bug in my throat without a good reason. She wanted me to see that skylight.”

  “Even if you are right and this is not a trap, how can you be certain there are no protection wards set to keep out intruders?” he asked. “If I were a witch as powerful as Kaye, I’d have every means of entry booby-trapped. She probably even has cameras set to watch their heads explode.”

  He made a fist, then expanded his fingers dramatically to illustrate his point. Great, exploding heads. Just what I needed.

  “No,” I said, shaking my head with feigned confidence. “The kid may be running scared, but Arachne is resourceful. I have to trust that she’ll find a way to disarm any deadly spells around that storeroom.”

  “And if she doesn’t?” Torn asked.

  “Then you get a gory new story to tell your friends about a foolish faerie princess who got her brains splattered all over the Emporium’s rooftop,” I said. “Now come on. You too, Padre.”

  I marched toward the Emporium, teeth clenched. There was no time for elaborate plans. If there were protection wards on that skylight, then I’d be decorating the roof with my brains. I gave myself a mental shrug, and kept moving. There were worse ways to go.

  I would have kept stomping forward, but Torn used his feline speed and agility to jump ahead of me, creating an all too effective wall that blocked my path.

  “And how do you plan to gain access to the roof, Princess?” Torn asked with a mocking glare. “Are you going to sprout wings and fly?”

  A slow grin slid across my face, and Torn frowned. Father Michael blanched, and made a sign of the cross.

  “You can’t be serious,” Torn muttered.

  “Oh, I’m serious, all right,” I said, stripping out of my leather jacket.

  “You do realize you’ve never tried to fly outside of Faerie,” he said, shaking his head.

  I shrugged, pulling my long-sleeved shirt over my head. I’d stripped down to my tank top and jeans, eliciting a shiver. But if I was honest with myself, I wasn’t cold.

  My heart raced, and I reached eagerly for my power. It wasn’t as strong here in the human world, but I wasn’t without resources. I sent tendrils of magic outward, seeking the wisps who resided here in Harborsmouth.

  Even in their weakened state, the recently iron-sick wisps who I’d saved at the Braxton junkyard willingly lent me their power. I sensed others, most in small flocks on the city’s outskirts, and tentatively sent a request for their aid.

  Back in the wisp court, I’d denounced my right to rule. I’d left my father’s court in the capable hands of Skillywidden while a democratic governing body was formed. I??
?d grown up an outsider, and never fancied myself royalty, but that didn’t change the truth of my blood. I was the daughter of the king of the wisps and the queen of Faerie. To the Unseelie fae, I was their liege.

  Energy rushed to me, flooding my body with warmth and power. I giggled, magic rising within me to fill every nook and cranny. I had a suspicion that if I gathered any more power, I might burst.

  With a sigh, I broke contact and reeled in the tendrils of power that I’d gathered. The entire process took mere seconds, but I still blinked at the sky. The sun hadn’t moved any farther in its steady decent. We still had time.

  “Are y-y-you alright, Miss Granger?” Father Michael asked.

  My lips tingled, and my teeth vibrated, as magic hummed through my body. I smiled, and nodded.

  “Never better,” I said.

  “Ready, Princess?” Torn asked.

  For the first time since I’d known the cat sidhe, he looked uncertain. I shook my head, unable to keep the wide grin from my lips.

  “Not by a long-shot,” I said.

  I widened my stance, and closed my eyes. I delved deep inside my body, questing for the part of me that I so often rejected.

  I’d worried that the insectile wings that were part of my wisp heritage made me less than human. I’d agonized over showing this side of myself to my friends, and I’d wondered if they’d ever be able to accept, and someday come to love, the real me. Oh the irony that now that very part of myself was what I needed to keep my friends safe.

  “Do you need my help, Princess?” Torn asked, lifting a clawed finger.

  I knew what he was asking. He’d been there when I’d first transformed in a muddy, gas-filled bog in Faerie. The magic of Faerie, and the proximity of so many of my wisp brethren, had activated a change inside of me, and triggered the first emergence of my wings.