Page 62 of Kiss the Filthiest King

"It's fine," I say. "I'm grateful you could receive me so quickly. And you've managed to book a witch?"

"Yeah, a sorcerer. He'll see you. It'll cost a pretty penny, but I can't imagine it's a problem for you."

I snort. "Is gold still worth a ton in your world, for some unfathomable reason?"

It's one of the cheapest metals on Ilvaris, due to the limited range of magic one can make with it.

"Yes."

"Then, no, it's not a problem."

"Well, then, Lucian just needs a guardian’s presence to perform a summoning without getting a earful from the city council. Good thing I owe you ten favors." He glances at his two charges. "You're in for an eventful day. No pressure if you'd rather call in, by the way. It's not going to be your average routine."

"Are you kidding?" Silver hisses. "A summoning by LucianRegis, for a freaky fae lord, working for the queen of a damn universe? You'd have to drag me away kicking and screaming."

“Only one world, witch,” I say. “The universe’s a stretch.”

The redhead is a little less enthusiastic. "I mean, it ought to be rather interesting, won't it? And safe. Lucian's strong enough to hold a demon back, right?"

"Oh, yeah, you don't have to worry," Stillwater says. "It likely won't be the first demon he's dealt with this week."

Silver beams. Kleos has the expression of someone used to dangerous situations, and used to dragging her friends out of them; she’s plotting the ten ways this might go wrong, and planning contingencies for each eventuality. Rain looks like she might just come, from everything she sees around her, though she's silent, bringing up the rear.

We make our way to the underbelly of the city, where magnificent tunnels have been carved—great halls lit by star-like stones.

Under the mountain, the streets are bare and silent, where they were brimming with life up in Highvale.

"The unders are night dwellers," Stillwater tells us. "There's nothing much going on at midday, but you should see this place at night."

"The folk also prefer the twilight hours," I say. "Do you live under here, then?"

"No, I'm a Highvaler all the way. Got used to the sunlight, I guess. I get along with unders just fine, though. Lucian, he's one of the best guys down here."

"I've seen him around," Kleos says. "At official gatherings, that is. He's the high sorcerer of the dark magic users, right?"

"That's the one."

It takes a while to reach his place, down in the complex underworld city.

Calling it a house would be inaccurate. Carved of dark blue stone, the building is almost as regal as my new sister in law’s castle, in the heart of the Hollow. It looks exactly like one would picture the manor of a modern-day dark high sorcerer might look like. So dark it seems almost black, with blue, unnatural magic shining through the stone. The doors, large enough to fit a chariot, are deep blood red.

The man who opens the door, however, doesn't fit the bill.

For one, he's about forty years younger than I would have guessed. Mortals, even of the witch variety, age awfully fast. One would think it would take six or seven decades to reach such heights as the high sorcerer of an eminent city. But this man looks around my age—and I stopped aging somewhere in my mid-twenties.

He's pale, with white hair cut short and brushed back, accentuating sharp features, and silver blue eyes shining in the darkness of the entryway. He wears nothing but a robe, falling off on his shoulders and revealing taut muscles.

In my more artistic days, I would have attempted to paint him.

"Well, now,” he drawls, those silver eyes scanning the crowd. “Two folks, two princesses and a witch. I'm honored to receive suchprominent guests.” I know enough about mortals to realize he’s lying. His tone drips with sarcasm. “Though one would certainly have preferred them call at a decent hour."

"We pay extra for midday," Stillwater says cheerfully, undeterred.

The sorcerer rolls his eyes and shifts to let us enter his dark home. Every curtain’s drawn.

The dim lighting doesn’t bother my eyes. The house is tastefully decorated in various shades of black and reds, not letting in any natural light. Reddish ceiling features are all we have to see where to step.

"Isn't it a little dark?" Silver whispers to her friend, the other intern.

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