Page 40 of Hell Fae Prince
Two discussions with a Mythos Fae in a decade was rare. Two discussions in a day was practically unheard of. They typically kept to themselves, choosing to reign in silence and only occasionally appear in public spaces.
And Hades was the most reclusive of them all. He usually sent his cousin Orcus out to do his bidding. Whatever he needed from Ty must go beyond Maliki.
I’d follow up on that later.
For now, I had an even more intriguing conversation to be had with the Midnight Fae Source Architect. He’d resumed walking again, not saying a word to me about my strange delay.I suspected he knew I’d been talking to Ty, or perhaps was used to those around him holding mental conversations.
When we reached the palace exit, I glanced at him but followed him down a grand set of stairs to a waiting cloud below. “I typically prefer my feathers,” I told him.
“If I had wings, I would, too,” Zakkai replied, stepping up to the mist. “After you.”
I smiled. “I would rather eat a burning thwomp branch.”
He chuckled. “I can arrange that.” But rather than insisting I walk into the mystic fog, he went first.
And completely disappeared.
I waited a beat, then sighed and followed him into the unknown.
Midnight Fae portals were strange, their magic tacky and unwelcome against my skin. Fortunately, they were also short.
Three steps and I was suddenly at a closed door, the knob nowhere to be seen. “You don’t belong here,” a voice informed me.
I found the source of it hanging on a door knocker. “I’m aware, thank you. But your Source Architect asked me on a date, so here I am.”
“I wouldn’t call it a date,” Zakkai replied from the other side of the door. “More like a necessary shopping trip.”
My brow furrowed, not understanding until the gargoyle-like knocker huffed and removed the wooden panel barring my exit.
A shop appeared on the other side, just beyond a cobblestone street. Glancing left and right, I realized we’d entered a village of sorts. “Cute,” I said, liking the gothic spires and midnight skies. “Very appropriate.”
Zakkai shrugged. “Aflora likes a tavern nearby; they have spritemead and other Elemental Fae cuisine.”
“Do they have lava drinks?” I wondered aloud.
“Probably,” Zakkai replied, heading for the shop entrance. “They offer food and beverages from all the realms.” He glanced at me. “Even the inhospitable ones.”
I snorted. “We both know that’s not true; you visit Zenaida all the time.”
“Do I?” he asked, feigning innocence. “Hmm.”
I didn’t bother replying to that; the truth was already clear.
What wasn’t clear, however, was our purpose for being here.
My brow furrowed as we entered a shop filled with formal gowns. “Need an outfit for the Interrealm Fae Ball?” I asked him.
“In fact, I do,” he replied. “Aflora requires a dress. I assume Cami does, too?”
I studied his profile, noted the way he took in every corner of the store, searching for threats. But all I felt around us were some figments waiting to play. Otherwise, the shop was very empty.
“You didn’t have to take me dress shopping to garner my RSVP, Architect,” I told him. “We’ll all be at your little soirée.”
“Your king, too?”
“Of course. Typhos is in the middle of negotiating terms with the rest of our mate-circle. He’s hoping to hear their counteroffer at the ball.”
Zakkai smiled. “You mean Ajax’s counter?”
