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I’m a wanted man, and there’s no place for me to go—

My wings almost freeze mid-beat as a realization slams into me.

Of course.

Thereisa place that might welcome a bloodstained, penniless fairy. A place where violence and vendettas are born.

The City of Thieves. Barbos.

254 years ago

I sit insidesome disreputable pub in Barbos, nursing the dregs of the last ale I can afford. I don’t have enough money in my pocket for much more than another meal. I’ll have to sleep on a rooftop tonight and hope no one discovers me before morning.

I glance around me at the colorful fairy lights that are strung up along the walls of the place, then to the crowded room. Friends gather around tables, their eyes a little too all-seeing, and their smiles a bit too crafty.

Sitting amongst thieves.

How I’d once dreamed of coming to such a place! All I ever wanted growing up was to see the world and live the lives that I’d read about for so long. Now it feels like I bought myself one of Memnos’s cursed wishes—the kind that give you anything you want, but corrupt the wish so that it becomes a burden rather than a boon.

I nearly choke on my next swallow of ale when a fae woman in a translucent top wanders into the pub. She sashays rather than walks, her eyes brighter than the stars outside. I can’t look away from her, though I know I should.

She weaves her way between tables, her fingers skimming along the sticky surfaces. The woman must feel my gaze because her eyes flick to me. She flashes me a smile, and the sight of it is so shocking that I stare a little longer. Back on Arestys, despite my looks and my penchant for getting people what they wanted, I was no woman’s first choice of partner. No one wanted to openly show interest in the weakest fairy on the island. I was always the mistake village girls liked to make when they were feeling brave.

Before the woman gets to my table, a slick-looking fairy carrying two steins of ale drops into the seat across from me, jolting me out of my reverie.

He leans forward. “Trust me, you don’t want that kind of company,” he says, jerking his head back to the woman. Over his shoulder he says to her, “Fuck off, Kaelie. This bloke won’t be buying what you have to offer.”

Buying …?

The woman’s smile turns to a scowl. “Damnit, Vale, you owe me for that.”

The pub’s other patrons ignore us. I guess this isn’t a noteworthy altercation in Barbos.

Vale turns in his seat to look at her. “Piss off,” he says. “He’s got no money and he’s younger than your sons—or are you too blind to see that?”

Giving Vale a look that could kill the Night King himself, she slips away from us, circling through the tavern until a brawny fairy grabs her by the waist and pull her onto his lap.

Vale turns back to face me, taking a sip of his drink and making himself comfortable.

I raise my eyebrows at him.

He takes in my expression. “Have you never seen a prostitute?”

No, but that’s beside the point.

“Why are you sitting here?” I ask.

He slides his second ale over to me. “You look lonely, brother.”

I frown. I’m not his brother. My siblings lie in shallow graves across the Night Kingdom, and I buried the last of my family a day ago.

I eye the stein he passed to me.

“Go ahead, you can have it,” he says, cajoling me.

“What do you want?” I ask.

Vale leans back in his seat, the wooden chair creaking. “Company.”