Page 118 of Welcome to Fae Cafe

Kate found her feet moving—one in front of the other. A sound escaped as she realized she couldn’t stop, nor could she turn her head right or left to see if he was okay.

Mor, Shayne, and Dranian stood in the lobby, doing nothing but watching the things Kate couldn’t see with dismal faces. Dranian shook. His sharp breathing turned desperate. His lashes fluttered as he crumpled, trembling—Shayne caught him before his knees smashed to the floor.

Kate couldn’t stop. She passed them and walked toward the grand entrance with a sob, eyes ahead to where a well-aged woman with a pink scarf and a fancy coat waited outside the open doors with a long, serrated sword in her grip. Her opal earrings reflected the glorious entryway lights.

“Come, fairy goddaughter. I’m only here for you.” Freida extended her hand, and Kate found herself taking it.

“Don’t let them take him, Freida,please,” she begged. “Please, I’ll do anything. I don’t want them to take him.”

“What’s done is done. The rest of your Brotherhood allies are only here to see the Prince of the North Corner off. They will leave this place as soon as he’s gone.” Freida marched down a wide set of snow dusted stairs. She pulled the scarf off her neck and wrapped it around Kate, even though it did nothing to stop Kate’s shivers. “You’ll stay at theYarn & Stitchovernight with us until the Shadow Fairies are gone. After that, you can do what you like, Kate Kole.”

“I don’t want to go to theYarn & Stitch—”

“Too bad. The Prince has made us a bargain, and we’d like him to keep his end of it,” Freida said. “We must keep you with us until he’s gone if we wish for him to stay silent about our hiding place.”

“But…”

“Just come. It’ll all be over soon,” Freida said.

Kate swallowed.

This was it. There was no going back.

This was goodbye.

40

Just Kate Kole

The morning air felt cold when Kate was released from theYarn & Stitchthe next day. She dragged her feet back to the café to find it quiet. The closed sign rattled on the door when she came in, but the broken bell made no sound. None of the three fae assassins inside looked up from where they sat in different places, staring off at nothing. Lily washed dishes in the kitchen, gazing ahead with unshed tears brimming red eyes and a blank look on her face.

The quiet café screamed of Cress’s absence.

The painting of chocolate chip cookies sat high above the counter, and Kate sank against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor. She stared at it.

No one moved for hours.

41

Prince Cressica and The Cruel Tortures of Fairies

Cress had remained silent since the moment the Shadow Fairies bound his hands to lead him home. He stayed that way as he passed through the gate back into the polluted magic air of the Four Corners of Ever and was led into the forest, through the villages, past the quarry, and brought to the Silver Castle. No one tried to stop the group of Shadow Fairies, though Northern fairies in the cities drew back and hid away at the sight of the silvery brown eyes in their midst.

The Prince was led through the castle’s front entrance where every noble eye could witness. He was taken down the crystal halls to the High Court meeting room. There he stood trial, in the same silence.

“You will die by strokes of cold iron, performed by the Brotherhood of Assassins,” the newest member of the High Court decided—a fairy whose shadow seeped across the castle floor and brushed Cress’s boots. A fairy who smelled of trouble. A fairy whose silvery ribbons could not be hidden in his brown eyes, even in the room’s darkness.

Cress grunted a laugh of disbelief. So, the Queene had invited the devils of the Corners into her home with open arms, after all. She’d been more frightened of Cress than them.

Cress lifted his turquoise eyes to the shadows where Queene Levress sat on her throne and said nothing. She did not show herself to Cress, she did not intervene to save him from the court’s judgement. She did not speak at all. But she glared with all the coldness of the North ice fields.

Death by his own assassins. How fitting, and how terribly cruel.

The prison cells in the Silver Castle were gilded, but Cress suspected an illusion. He didn’t dare inch too close to the walls or the bars.

Some heartless fool heaped logs onto the fire at the end of the hall, turning the dungeon oven hot. Sweat dripped down Cress’s face, and he tore off his preposterous human officer uniform when he couldn’t sleep through the night.

The next night was worse. Glowing bugs crawled along the cell walls, giving off a putrid scent.

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