Page 121 of Fortune's Blade

“Can’t you?” Mircea asked, looking back in the direction of the stairs, although we couldn’t see them anymore.

“Not if I can’t see where I’m going—”

“And not by way of the portal we are headed toward,” Marlowe broke in. “As it ‘doesn’t go to Earth.’ So, where does it go?”

The Pythia shot him an irritated glance. I could just make it out in the light from a passing pixie, whose lantern lit up her face for an instant. A group of the creatures had taken their queen’s command literally, and were buzzing about her head, creating a blur of fire that almost looked like a crown in the troll’s terrible vision.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Marlowe said. “I think we can all agree that I have a right to know—”

“You have no rights,” Mircea snapped, but it seemed that father’s nerves weren’t the only ones a bit frayed of late. Because the consul’s chief spy turned on him with what was almost a snarl.

“I have every right! When I thought this was just a wife hunt, it was one thing. Stupid, ill-advised, even moronic to do it now, knowing what we’re up against, but I understood. I lost someone once, too. I know how it feels, how it guts you at unexpected times—a scent, a smile, a glance from a pair of pure green eyes—I know. But this isn’t just about your wife, is it? This is about the war and don’t try to deny it!”

“I don’t recall denying anything,” Mircea said grimly. “But I will tell you this: you won’t find anything ahead that you are going to like. Go home, Kit. Tell the consul that you couldn’t find me—”

“As if she’d believe that—”

“You didn’t find us,” Cassie pointed out.

“No, I found Dorina, who you didn’t even know was here.” He glanced at Mircea. “You’re getting sloppy.”

“I’m also getting tired of this!”

“Then tell me the truth. This isn’t about saving the dark fey king. That may be what Radella wants—”

“Queen Radella,” a passing pixie said, and shocked him lightly with her tiny spear. It was a testament to how focused Marlowe was that he didn’t retaliate or even break stride.

“—but that isn’t why you’re here, or Cassie, either. She didn’t remove herself from Earth in the middle of a war, call in favors from powerful friends, and derail a whole city full of dark fey for that. Not when the bastard has already been replaced!”

“There are things he knows,” Cassie began, but Marlowe ignored this. He clearly did not think that Radella’s problems were big enough to explain the presence of two of the heaviest of heavy hitters and neither did I.

“And before you evade again, let me point out that this isn’t merely your war,” he added. “This is the Senate’s war, the Circle’s war, Earth’s war—and Faerie’s, too. We’re all in this together, so stop dodging my goddamned questions and tell me what is going on!”

“He has a point, Mircea,” Cassie said quietly, after a moment. “This does concern him.”

“Finally! Listen to the oracle!”

“I did,” Mircea said dryly, something that did not mean much to me, but the Pythia seemed to take it as permission to explain a few things. Things that had Marlowe’s eyes widening in disbelief as she spoke, and mine probably following suit, although the troll’s were so small that likely nobody noticed.

“You’re both mad,” Marlowe whispered, when she finished.

“Then go home and let us handle this!” Mircea said angrily.

“Go home? Go home? And do what?” Marlowe exploded, his voice echoing around the cave until a pixie zapped him again.

He brushed her away, his eyes never leaving Mircea, but his voice did drop to a harsh whisper. “And do what? Tell the consul that you’re on a damned fool errand to another world because the spirit of Faerie told you to?”

“Told Cassie to,” Mircea corrected. “And thank you for proving, yet again, that I cannot trust you with anything that requires the slightest bit of—”

“She helped us,” Cassie broke in. “Any number of times. If she was on Zeus’s side, she would have no reason—”

“She doesn’t have to be on his side!” Marlowe whisper shouted. “The gods hate each other more than they do us! There’s not one side in this conflict—there’s dozens, maybe hundreds! Everyone is out for themselves and that includes her—assuming she even exists, and it wasn’t another god fucking with you—”

“She is a god. But if she hates Zeus, too, I’ll take it.”

“Then you’re a fool!” It had a hard edge I had never heard from him before. Marlowe played the fool when he thought it would get him anywhere, or the annoying, whiny guest, or whatever guise, I was starting to suspect, he thought would best serve the moment.

But that had not been a guise. I stared at him, wondering if I was seeing the real man for the first time, and had a hybrid step heavily on my heel as a result.