Page 104 of Fairies Never Fall

“Who does Orion know that could get you a job?” I sit up.

Felix flashes me a guilty look. “They might be a monster.”

“Might?”

“Well, I won’t be able to tell, will I?” he says testily. “Orion says they don’t care if I wear the necklace or not. I guess we’ll see.”

I let it go. Orion is ultimately a good guy, even if he can be a bit of a loose cannon. I trust him.

Besides, just like Lysander, Fitzie is a whole-ass adult.

“I’m happy for you,” I tell him. “And if you’ve got any questions about how to woo a hot piece of monster ass —”

Fitzie hits me with a cushion. “No!”

Fitzie’s not gonna go the dumbass route like I did and fall for one. I don’t regret it, though. Even now. Not for a second.

36

LYSANDER

I’ve been running on fear since we left our home burning behind us and escaped into the night, and now I’m empty.

It’s not the worst possible thing that could’ve happened. It’s not. Ezra’s alive, just… out of reach. What hurts the most, what deflates me like a spear to the lung, is that for a short time I believed things could be different. My life changed because of him.Ichanged.

The first few days I do little else besides sit in the big, soft chair in Syril’s upstairs study and stare out the window. Watchers from the Protection Agency stand guard day and night around The Sanctum, their special amulets hiding them from human eyes. The Sanctum is under Syril’s protection, so the Watchers are stationed to keep me in, not to keep the azeroths out.

Nothing’s stopping me from going downstairs, but I can’t bear the thought of the pitying looks I’ll get. Besides, Ezra won’t be there. He lost his job and his place in this world because of me. I’ve never been more convinced of my unworthiness. Maybe Ezra will be better off without me in the end.

It’s almost dark when I finally uncurl and sit up, letting my cramped wings stretch. The Watcher below turns, as if sensing I’ve moved. Flaming eyes flicker in the dusk. I turn away from the window, rubbing my hollow chest.

Orion knocks at the door and sets a plate and a drink on the desk.

“You alright?” he asks. “Plato says you’ve done this for three days in a row. I thought he was exaggerating.”

“I’m fine.” I take the plate back to the chair. I lift the fork to my lips, but I barely taste the food.

Orion goes to the window. “They’re really taking it seriously. Uncle Hellebore is such a hard-ass. He turns his nose up at socializing with other kingdoms, but he’ll gladly police ‘em.”

“Uncle?” I frown.

He shrugs. “I’ve got a dozen cousins, so trust me, being related to the king isn’t a big deal. Anyway, that’s not what I came up here to talk about. Bear’s holding a private rope class in the club before opening hours. You should give it a go. He wants to see you. If you ask me, he’s worried, not that he’d ever admit it.”

I wince. IfBearis asking to see me, my situation must sound especially pitiful. “It won’t change anything.”

“No.” Orion glances out the window again. “But you don’t have to be a princess stuck in a tower, you know? The rest of us are still here.”

The not-so-subtle reproach makes me flinch again. Orion’s right — the staff are my friends now. Just because Ezra brought light and color and life into my existence…

Orion groans. “I don’t mean it like that. Stop looking like I’ve gone and locked your boyfriend away with my own hands. What I’m trying to say is, we’re here for you. Everyone wants to help. Even Bear. So if I were you, I’d take him up on it.”

When Orion is gone, I force myself to eat the rest of my food. For the first time, I look around at the study and actually see the cozy, welcoming space. Syril suggested I use it, but I barely heard them — it wasn’t until I peeled myself out of bed that I remembered them saying they’d leave the door unlocked.

When I first arrived at The Sanctum, it was the same. Syril gave me everything I have now. A safe place to stay, things to replace what I’d lost, projects to keep me busy. Even the show with Bear was their way of helping.

I peruse the shelves, suddenly curious. I’ve never seen books like this, with colorful paper bindings and whimsical lettering. In the safe houses we only ever had a mish-mash of books left behind by the previous owner. In my world, books are somber, leatherbound, and factual — even the ones I’ve borrowed from Syril in the past are very matter-of-fact. Treatises about plants I’ll never grow, or the best way to prepare quail.

I pick one of the books up. It’s light, and a page falls out as I flip through. The words leap out at me when I snatch it from the floor.

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