Chapter 30
AS HE SAID this, a toddy wobble stepped into view, only a few feet away.
The prince nodded to him in dismissal, and the toddy fulfilled its namesake by slowly wobbling away.
Crap!
I was seriously terrible under pressure. Once again, I had the internal to-run-or-not-to-run debate fly through my head, but instead, I just whispered, “What do you mean?”
“Well, you see”—Caius crowded me until my back hit the stone wall—“after I spoke with Soren, your family intrigued me.”
Your. Family.
I knew for a fact I’d never told him that.
He knows.
But how does he know?
His eyes never left me as he nodded at the unspoken question on my face. “I tracked them down and discovered I own their contracts. A conversation with your father was quite eye-opening.”
“You talked to . . .” I tried not to implicate myself, even though it was probably too late. “What did he say?”
“Where to begin?” Caius asked in a suspiciously cheerful tone. “I suppose the most obvious place is discovering that your father is human, which makes you human. Who glamoured you? Soren?”
I swallowed.
Where was Gwen and her strategy right now? This would’ve been a fantastic time for Soren or his friends to appear. But of course, they didn’t, because how could they know this conversation had gone sideways?
I decided to try the truth, to play to his compassion, if he had any. “Yes, it’s a glamour.” I cleared my throat, skipping over any mention of Soren. “I’m just trying to get my family home.”
“I figured as much. You’re lucky you’re the daughter of Maeve Thorneveil. I’d rather not harm a member of the Grimhollow clan. Too many repercussions. But how dare you lie to me, and worse, how dare you think I’d help a filthy human?”
He knows Mom?
Why would he care what she thinks? And what repercussions? I blinked at him, unable to puzzle together what he was saying.
He pivoted on one foot to storm away.
“Wait,” I cried after him, doing exactly what Soren had told me never to do. “Please, I’ll do anything.”
Fury filled Caius’s face when he looked at me over his shoulder. “If not for your connections, I’d make you regret that.”
What on earth does that mean?
A cold smile stole over his face, and he stalked back toward me. “It wouldn’t matter if I returned them to you though. Do you know why?”
I didn’t want to say it, but the word slipped out. “Why?”
Watching me closely for my reaction, he said, “Because this particular solstice, the veil has closed early.”
What?
He’s lying, don’t say anything.
But . . . he can’t lie.
When I didn’t immediately react, he leaned in. “Just to be exceedingly clear: You and your family are all trapped here.”
After rubbing salt in the wound like that, he gave me a satisfied smirk. This time when he marched up the stairs toward his throne, I didn’t try to stop him.
Honestly, I barely even noticed him leave.
I dropped onto the bottom step, trembling.
Was that it?
After everything I’d done over the last few days, all the deals I’d made, all the lies I’d told, I’d not only failed but was also stuck here?
Jumping to my feet, I tried to focus on the room. A fae with vivid red butterfly wings passed by a few feet away.
“Hey!” I grabbed her wrist in a blind panic, ignoring her gasp of outrage. “Is the veil actually closed?”
“Unhand me,” she screeched, tugging at her arm.
But I didn’t.
Right now, I didn’t care what they thought of me. I needed answers. “Is the veil closed?” I repeated. “Tell me!”
Logically, I knew Caius couldn’t lie, but I still wanted to hear it from someone else.
“Of course it’s closed,” she hissed, ripping her arm from my grasp. “Did you not sense it?”
I didn’t bother to answer her, turning away, searching for any tunnel other than the royal one. I pushed through the crowd.
I’d go outside and see for myself.
I just needed to find an exit.
Then I’d trek back through the snow, figure out how to get through this stupid “veil,” and bring the police back here. They’d have to listen to me. I had all kinds of things I could tell them about the fae that weren’t under any contract.
The next closest tunnel was the troll tunnel.
Using the tiny bit of remaining sense I had left, I walked past it. If I took that one alone, I probably wouldn’t make it all the way outside.
Heading for another yawning opening, I stopped when a group of fae blocked my path by accident. One of them was complaining to his friends, “I wanted to get at least one more human before the veil closed. Why did the lifting end so early this solstice?”
I ducked back, narrowly missing being run over by them, but after a few more steps, I slowed to a stop. Somehow, hearing it for a third time made the truth finally start to sink in.
The veil was closed. Not for a day or a week, but for months. No telling what would happen in that amount of time, but it wouldn’t end well, for me or for my family.
The storm in my chest moved to my stomach, roiling around and making me sick.
We were never going to make it home.
I pulled my phone from my pants pocket and powered it on, clicking the Find My Phone app despite the “no signal” bars in the corner.
Halfway through opening the app, the screen went dark.
I stared at it like it’d somehow turn back on.
But the battery had finally died.