“You guys don’t have democracy yet?” I half joke, but Orion only grins.
“It might sound like a dusty old tradition, but there’re benefits to kings. Trust me. If we didn’t get anything out of it, good luck getting any monster to pledge to a kingdom.”
I nod. That, I can believe.
“Speaking of dusty old traditions — you’re gonna join the qualifiers for this summer’s Crossing festival, right? Syril’s leaving the first competition up to chance, which probably means it’ll be all waterspirits who win,” he complains. “Larch is trying out, but c’mon. He’s a gargoyle, about as graceful on the water as a boulder.”
“Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?” The last thing I want to do is put my foot in it more than I just did.
“Nah. Syril hired you for a reason. Be the rep your species needs! Grab a win for the staff.”
I snort. “Is that why Syril hired me?”
“Well, Lilian would rather die than possibly fall on her face in front of everyone, and King Hellebore would kill me if he caught me competing —”
“No, I mean, to be a human representative?” I barely stop myself from telling him there are a lot of people who’d make better ambassadors.
“Course it is,” Orion replies. “Most of us monsters live cheek and claw with humans these days, especially in Greenriver, but the truth is we barely interact with them at all. Except for the weirdos with a human fetish, you know? No offense.”
“None taken.”
Human fetishis a first, but it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard since putting on the amulet.
Is that what I’ve got going on with Lysander? A fairy fetish?
Somehow, I don’t think so.
“The problem is, there are a lot more humans than monsters, so some — like the wildlings — keep getting squeezed into smaller and smaller spaces, because they’re afraid of expanding their territory and letting humans know we’re here. But what if there were humans whoalreadyknew about us? What if we had allies and friends? We can’t just stay scared of humans forever.” Orion shrugs, his shadows rippling. “The idea is that when you make a fool of yourself and Lilian sees you’re a nice, normal guy, she might be okay with her sister’s family having a human landlord instead of cramming all eight of them into the single gargoyle-owned apartment in her neighborhood. Syril thinks it’ll make a difference.”
I get it. And I get that maybe Syrildidpick me because I’m an outcast. Not because no one would believe me if I tried to tell them — because I’d understand their problems.
But… “Who says I’ll make a fool of myself?”
Orion laughs, exposing the fire in the back of his throat. “Lysander’s gonna be watching. So — me.”
I lean over the bar and unhook the clipboard quickly. “Fine. I’ll join.”
“You don’t have to write your name down,” Orion says.
“C’mon, I said I was going to.”
“No, I mean, cause you work here. Just tell Syril.”
I put the clipboard down with a groan. “Are yousureyou want me to keep the amulet?”
10
LYSANDER
The crow wakes me before dawn by tap-tapping on the window, and the noise startles me so badly I jerk upright, hissing as my wings tangle in the hammock. “Ouch!”
It takes me a moment to scramble out of the hammock, unsteady from the usual nightmares. The floor is cold on my bare feet and I quickly pad to the window and open the latch. The crow launches itself inside clumsily with a hoarse cry.
“Tssst… come here.” I catch it by the feet and it squawks. A capsule is clipped to its ankle. I open the capsule and unroll the note as the crow escapes my grip, flapping around the room until it lands on the nightstand.
“Craw!” it exclaims.
“Yes, thank you,” I reply absently, scanning the note. It’s Maddox’s handwriting.