Adair grunted and retrieved a handled hunting knife from a sheath. He dropped it onto the table. It wasn’t anything special aside from being long and sharp and deadly. The leather was worn in the pattern of Adair’s own fingers. The smallest symbol was burned into the edge—a stag’s antler inside a Trinity Knot.

“Is this sufficient?” he asked. “It was blessed by the Fae.”

Graves took the knife in his hand, and his magic played over the surface of the blade for a moment before he set it aside as if he were bored. “This will do for the information.”

Finally, Graves’s eyes dropped to the girl. She watched him take in the Fae features: the angelic hair,faintly pointed ears, and unmistakable delicacy. But it was the hardness in her eyes, the straight shoulders, and the fearlessness in the tilt of her jaw, almost a challenge, that made him pause.

“Leave her here with me,” Graves said.

“What?” Shannon gasped at the same time Adair proclaimed, “Never!”

Her parents loved her. They loved her more than anything. In the glow of their love, she could stand up to a nightmare incarnate.

“She would be safe here. That is what you wanted,” he reminded them.

“There isnoguarantee of her safety here,” Shannon snarled. “She is a child. She is a wisp. We need to keep her safe long enough for her magic to come in so she can protect herself.”

Graves shrugged. “As it has protected so much of your kind.”

Shannon bristled again. “Her magic will save her.”

“Her magic is no different than your magic, or that of any of your kind.” His eyes flicked to Adair. “Perhaps even lesser.” As if having a human father was an affront. “You’ll need to do something more than hide her if you want this one to survive.”

He disappeared into the stacks, the darkness enveloping him as he left.

Shannon glanced at Adair in sheer terror, a look she had refused to give to Graves but could barely contain now.

He was only gone a moment before returning with a large, old leather tome. “Ah, here it is. There’s a spell. It works on a child before they develop into their powers.”His eyes lifted to her mother. “So it wouldn’t hide you.”

“We’re not here about me,” Shannon said sternly. “We have a plan for me.”

Graves shrugged as if it wasn’t his concern how to hide a fully grown wisp.

“I don’t have the specific spell, but I could retrieve it…for a price.”

“More than the knife?” Adair demanded.

“The knife would be worth the spell, if I already had it,” he said, his eyes going dark with displeasure. “If I have to go looking for it…then the knife is worth less than my time.”

“Fine,” Shannon growled. “Whohasthe spell? Can we go get it ourselves?”

He considered again for a second. “Probably a Druid.”

“Absolutely not,” Shannon barked.

Graves’s smile said he knew exactly what can of worms he’d opened, and he couldn’t help to prod it open wider. “Aren’t your lot friendly with Druids?”

Shannon and Adair exchanged another fleeting look. The answer was clearly no. Not anymore.

“Lorcan Flynn is across the bridge. He could help you at the next full moon,” Graves said. The deadly glint in his eye was the only thing that even hinted he was sending these people to his greatest enemy.

“We can’t go to Lorcan,” Shannon said.

“Obviously,” Graves said. “Or else why come to me at all?”

“We heard you would give us information,” Adair argued. “Not just jerk us around.”

Graves smirked as if that was half the fun.