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“Answer her,” I order.

He grinds his teeth. “Galleghar O’Malleghar, King of Asshats, Killer of Boners, Wannabe Emperor Who Needs to Eat a Bag of Dicks and Die.”

The titles clearly got a little out of hand.

I mean, we might not be able to kill him or bring him to justice, but we can humiliate the shit out of him.

I gesture around us. “Lead us to the Pit.”

The forest ispreternaturally quiet … until it isn’t.

First, it’s an angry yowl of some lone creature. Then the caw of a crow joins it. Within minutes, the woods are full of hisses and howls, wails and half-mad cries.

“Fucking creepy,” Temper whispers next to me.

The noises aren’t the worst thing about this place. I can feel a dozen different sets of eyes on me as we cut through the sparsely wooded forest. I’m still glowing like a beacon, my power drawing in an increasing number of fae. More malevolent magic tinges the air, and it’s only getting worse the farther we walk.

The last of the trees clear, and I see it—the Pit.

The thing is massive; it looks like a sinkhole, its depths cast into darkness. The longer I stare at it, the more I realize that the darkness ismoving, writing about either with living things or magic.

Don’t want to go down there.

My very bones protest getting any closer.

Two shadowy creatures separate themselves from the darkness. They’re longer and more spindly than a regular fairy, but I can smell their fae magic.

I stare at them as they approach. “What are they?”

“Reaves,” says Galleghar with no little amount of distaste. “They are the overseers of the Pit, Oh Dark Queen Who Thinks I’m a Douchebucket of the Most Epic Proportions.”

“You can stop with the titles,” I say.

“He still better call me by mine,” Temper says.

“You can stop with all the titles except hers,” I amend, pointing to my friend.

Gallegher glowers.

The reaves approach us, the sight of them making the hairs along my arm stand on end.

I don’t know how they feel about me using their precious Pit to get to the Kingdom of Death and Deep Earth, but I doubt they’re going to be thrilled about it.

They stop when they get close to us, one of them scenting the air. God, they’re a hideous pair, their limbs gangly, their eyes beady, and their lips tight and bloodless.

One of them scents the air. “Our old king, a human, and … something halfway interesting,” one of them announces, its eyes landing on me. Around us, I feel that thick, cloying magic stir up.

Des’s father steps up from behind me. “As rightful heir—”

“Hold you breeches, buddy,” I say. “You’re not to talk to these two nice reaves.”

The nice reaves that look like they wouldn’t mind eating us all alive.

“The King of the Night is at the bottom of that pit,” I say to them, nodding to the hole. Strange, inhuman noises are coming from it.

Thingslivein that place, things that don’t necessarily belong to this world or the next. I’m going to have to face them.

“All the dead end up somewhere at the bottom of the Pit,” one of the reaves says from his twisted mouth.