Page 121 of Welcome to Fae Cafe

Cress climbed to his feet and held out his fairsaber toward them. They remained still while he found his balance. And his bloody lips pulled into a smile.

“You fools,” he said. “Shewill figure out you’re letting me go. She will punish you for it.”

Thorne swung at him, and Cress dodged it easily. “So be it.” Thorne’s voice was a deep rumble of sound. “Half of your brothers do not wish to betray you today.” The assassin nodded toward the garden path that would take Cress back to the villages and through the forest, past which was the gate to the human realm.

“Well, let’s make a show of it, then. I’m sure the Queene is watching.” Cress smashed Thorne’s blade from his hand. He cut a few fairy shoulders on his way to the garden path and even dug his saber right through a faeborn calf, praying to the sky deities the assassin would forgive him for it.

Cress wasn’t fast as he raced below plump purple fruits dangling from crisp branches in the garden. He staggered past the golden trees whose bark turned orange in the wild morning sky, leaving a trail of fairy blood his assassins would be forced to follow. If only half his Brotherhood was showing mercy, the other half would catch up once they realized.

Cress reached the villages out of breath, clutching his chest and spitting crimson onto the green soil. Fairies emerged from leaf houses and branch huts, the most powerful ones touching buds to see them sprout. Cress took it all in as he passed, tucking the images away for later when he wanted to remember what the Ever Corners were like.

He raced against his burning cuts, his assassins, and most importantly, Bonswick.

Two dozen minutes later, Cress staggered to the gate; a rippling hold of power, built with an arch of seamless stone and whispering with the magic of the ancients. It seemed the fairy guards had taken the day off, and Cress imagined Haven had something to do with it.

Cress looked back one last time at the Four Corners of Ever when he reached the arch.

Then he went back to where he belonged.

Humans watched the Prince with odd faces as he limped over the sidewalk, clutching his shoulder where blood and power leaked out. His assassins’ armour was coated in the purplish fairy blood of his brothers, his hair was stuck to his forehead, and his eyes stung from blinking so much as he grew faint.

Cress smelled the coffee when he got close, and the potent scent of sour fruit. It filled his faeborn chest with a flutter of hope as he rounded the corner…

Mor.

That was who he saw first.

Cress was sure he wasn’t seeing correctly. He blinked his blurry eyes.

Mor’s body lay in the street, half on the sidewalk, half on the road. His curly hair was unbound and covering his face. Human healer chariots rumbled up with red flashing lights, and humans sprang out with boxes of supplies.

Cress’s gaze went in and out of focus as it wandered to Dranian’s cooling body. Cress staggered forward a step, loosing feeling in his hands and feet. Shayne lay beside Dranian, his white hair stained with dark blood, his blue eyes open and staring toward the heavens at the cruel sky deities who had not saved him.

Females Cress knew as the Sisterhood of Assassins lay sprawled across the ground, torn up yarn and broken knitting needles scattered between them, killed like animals. Kate’s fairy godmother was among them. One of her bright earrings had been torn right off.

But there were other bodies.

Human bodies…

Cress swallowed as he stepped in, catching whiffs of fear and distant shouts that had taken place in the very recent past, perhaps only hours ago. He was sure the bodies were still warm. Kate’s-brother-Greyson lay just outside the café door, the hood of his human sweater drenched in snowy slush and sour human blood. Past him, Lily Baker lay in her officer uniform, lifeless with her weapon tossed to the snow just past her reach.

And… Cress croaked when he saw her.

Kate Kole’s unmistakeable burgundy hair was half torn out of its tie. One arm was flung over her stomach, the other reaching as though she’d been trying to find help. The faint scents of her powder soap laced the air, and Cress slapped a hand over his eyes, refusing to see it any longer.

His brothers.

His humans.

His reasons for living.

“They’re all gone, Cress. You’re too late.” A cruel voice lifted from behind him.

Cress ground his teeth and spun, aiming his fairsaber at Bonswick’s throat. But Bonswick was faster.

Cress felt the fairy’s cold iron blade pierce through his body and come out his back. He tasted fairy blood on his tongue. His numb fingers dropped the handle of his fairsaber, and he fell to a knee, held up only by Bonswick’s silver blade impaling him.

Cress’s power recoiled as he shuddered, choosing to accept this finish. He’d failed to protect Mor after all. Shayne, Dranian, the humans. Her.

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