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Wisps could kill warlocks. She hadn’t found out how exactly in her research, but most of the information on her kind had been destroyed. If Graves saw them as a threat, they were.

“I’m not here to kill you,” Shannon said bluntly.

Graves arched an eyebrow. “I’m impressed that you think you could inside my own library.”

Shannon huffed, but Adair cut in, “We’re here about our daughter.”

Graves’s eyes didn’t shift to Kierse’s younger self. In fact, he hadn’t so much as looked at the child in his inner sanctum. The one who had ignored the cookies for the menacing man before her, watching him like a mouse would a hawk circling overhead.

“She’s in danger,” Shannon said. “The Fae Killer is onto us. I don’t know how he knows where we’re going, but we need to hide her.”

“How like good parents to have her best interest at heart.” The words were bitter, though Kierse could only hear it now that she knew his history.

Shannon bristled as he clearly knew she would. “You may be a monster, warlock, but even you cannot be immune to a child’s safety.”

“Don’t presume to know anything about me,” he snarled.

“Enough,” Adair said, putting himself between Graves and Shannon before his wife could do something drastic. “We are not here to fight.”

“He can do nothing else,” Shannon spat.

“Darling,” Adair said, low and sweet.

Her shoulders remained tense, but she retreated, sitting back slightly. Kierse’s younger self hadn’t moved an inch. Just stared up at the threat before her with keen eyes. She took her mom’s hand when it was offered, a lifeline in the tension.

“Did you bring something to barter with?” Graves asked.

“Yes,” Shannon said stiffly.

Adair grunted and retrieved a handled hunting knife from a sheath.

He dropped it onto the table. It wasn’t anything special aside from being long and sharp and deadly.

The leather was worn in the pattern of Adair’s own fingers.

The smallest symbol was burned into the edge—a stag’s antler inside a Trinity Knot.

“Is this sufficient?” he asked. “It was blessed by the Fae.”

Graves took the knife in his hand, and his magic played over the surface of the blade for a moment before he set it aside as if he were bored. “This will do for the information.”

Finally, Graves’s eyes dropped to the girl. She watched him take in the Fae features: the angelic hair, faintly pointed ears, and unmistakable delicacy. But it was the hardness in her eyes, the straight shoulders, and the fearlessness in the tilt of her jaw, almost a challenge, that made him pause.

“Leave her here with me,” Graves said.

“What?” Shannon gasped at the same time Adair proclaimed, “Never!”

Her parents loved her. They loved her more than anything. In the glow of their love, she could stand up to a nightmare incarnate.

“She would be safe here. That is what you wanted,” he reminded them.

“There is no guarantee of her safety here,” Shannon snarled. “She is a child. She is a wisp. We need to keep her safe long enough for her magic to come in so she can protect herself.”

Graves shrugged. “As it has protected so much of your kind.”

Shannon bristled again. “Her magic will save her.”

“Her magic is no different than your magic, or that of any of your kind.” His eyes flicked to Adair. “Perhaps even lesser.” As if having a human father was an affront. “You’ll need to do something more than hide her if you want this one to survive.”

He disappeared into the stacks, the darkness enveloping him as he left.

Shannon glanced at Adair in sheer terror, a look she had refused to give to Graves but could barely contain now.

He was only gone a moment before returning with a large, old leather tome. “Ah, here it is. There’s a spell. It works on a child before they develop into their powers.” His eyes lifted to her mother. “So it wouldn’t hide you.”

“We’re not here about me,” Shannon said sternly. “We have a plan for me.”

Graves shrugged as if it wasn’t his concern how to hide a fully grown wisp.

“I don’t have the specific spell, but I could retrieve it…for a price.”

“More than the knife?” Adair demanded.

“The knife would be worth the spell, if I already had it,” he said, his eyes going dark with displeasure. “If I have to go looking for it…then the knife is worth less than my time.”

“Fine,” Shannon growled. “Who has the spell? Can we go get it ourselves?”

He considered again for a second. “Probably a Druid.”

“Absolutely not,” Shannon barked.

Graves’s smile said he knew exactly what can of worms he’d opened, and he couldn’t help to prod it open wider. “Aren’t your lot friendly with Druids?”

Shannon and Adair exchanged another fleeting look. The answer was clearly no. Not anymore.

“Lorcan Flynn is across the bridge. He could help you at the next full moon,” Graves said. The deadly glint in his eye was the only thing that even hinted he was sending these people to his greatest enemy.

“We can’t go to Lorcan,” Shannon said.

“Obviously,” Graves said. “Or else why come to me at all?”

“We heard you would give us information,” Adair argued. “Not just jerk us around.”

Graves smirked as if that was half the fun.

“Is there anyone else who would have the spell?” Shannon asked. “Surely the knife is enough for a name .”

“There is another,” he said thoughtfully. “You wouldn’t like it. He hasn’t been much connected with Druids and wisps since he was on the outs.”

“If he’s not connected, that’s what we want,” Adair argued.

“I haven’t met him personally, but he’d have the spell.”

“Who?” Adair asked.

“Cillian Ryan.”

“He’s a rogue Druid!” Shannon cried.

“Then he won’t spill your secrets.”

“And a sociopath,” she tried next.

“And exactly what you need,” Graves argued. “If Lorcan hasn’t killed him, then he’s doing something right.”

Shannon shot her husband a stern look. “We can’t go to him.”

“We must,” Adair said. “We came here for a way to hide our girl. This is what we have to do.”

Shannon looked down at her daughter and brushed her blond hair aside. She sighed, resigned. “You’re right. Anything for you.”

Graves’s eyes landed on the little girl.

Kierse saw a brief look that was almost warm , before he wandered off into his library again.

He returned after only a moment. “The knife is worth more than the name.” He tossed a palm-size metal piece down on the table.

“Take this amulet and trade it for the casting.”

Shannon stared down at it uncertainly. “What’s the trick?”

Adair grabbed the amulet quickly. “Who cares?”

Shannon glared at Graves a moment. Finally, reluctantly, she stood, thanking him for his help. And it was help. Kierse could see that plainly. A mystery she was still grappling with as the memory dissolved.