Page 150 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

“There are five guards here,” Prae hisses. “Take them out.”

I pull my glamour over myself and walk forward until I have all of them in my sights. With a flick of my fingers, my swords appear and deliver a swift, fatal slash.

Five heads roll to the floor. Their bodies collapse soon after, and I raise a brow, cursing them silently.

They should be doing a better job. It should not be this easy to take them out, sneak through the palace, and break into the queen’s bedchamber.

If I were—

Nope. Not even going there.

Pushing my misdirected anger to one side, I force myself to focus on the way.

Until we reach the courtyard below her garden, where it returns in full force.

The garden we’re in is less flowery than many we’ve been through. Instead, the gardeners have chosen to stick to ferns and spiky grasses around the edge of the cosy hybrid living space. Like most of the gardens, a portion of it is open to the sky, while roughly half is covered over to protect it from the rain.

“So these are the Guard’s rooms?” Prae purrs, strolling inside.

“I suppose,” I try to act unaffected as I stare at the large table.

Someone—probably the redcap—has driven a dagger into the smooth polished surface, but otherwise, the main table looks like it’s used for little. There are leather sofas on the other side of the stairs which lead to her room, and in between them is a low table strewn with playing cards and glasses. There’s even a mini bar beside the fireplace.

The uncovered area is less furnished, but there’s a sparring ring and a few bits of outdoor gym equipment.

“Ugh, what a man cave.” Prae rolls her eyes as she struts through the space, investigating everything. “Ooh, look, it’s your room.”

“How can you tell?” Aron asks.

“Oh, please, it’s obvious.”

I turn on my heel, wondering what she’s on about, only to come up short as I see the mosaic blended seamlessly into the tiles of the floor before the bridge. Three swords crossing over one another.

Sure enough, the bridge to the left has a wolf. The one to the right, a top hat.

Those must be the shifter and the redcap. Not my ideal neighbours.

The other two branches are slightly more obscure. One is a stag’s skull, and the other a harp.

Obviously one of them is for the dour knight and the other for the púca, but I have no idea which is which. Is the grumpiest member of the Guard a secret musician?

“They could still be here,” I hiss. “Keep going, or they’ll scent us.”

Prae grumbles, staring longingly at the bridge with the swords below it before heading for the staircase in the centre.

Despite my own words, I linger, staring at the thick foliage on the other side of my bridge and wondering what’s on the other side. With a sigh, I shrug off the urge to investigate the room the fairies thought I’d want and hurry after my cousin.

The stairs go round and round in a spiral, leading to the only garden above this one: the Nicnevin’s.

The second we arrive, Gron and Aron drop the packs they’re carrying and waste no time beginning to set up Prae’s latest invention—large rods of metal, fashioned in wing shapes with screws to hold pieces of silk taut across their surface.

I’m surprised my cousin lets them help with that much. Then again, it’s not as if we have much time.

“Imagine having such a swanky view back at Fellgotha,” Prae murmurs, crossing the open courtyard at the start of the garden and heading straight for the open bedroom.

“Prae,” I hiss. “We agreed!”

“I only want to know if her bed is as cloud-like as it looks,” she whines, ignoring me as she runs her blue fingers through the net curtains fluttering in the breeze. “Ancestors, can you imagine being so spoiled?”

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