Chapter 32
With a sigh of relief, Roderick set the crate down on the table and looked around.
Papa and Peter had come from the back room and were gathered around the crate, looking through the narrow cracks to see the mass of pixies cloistered inside, huddled together in a group and staring back at us with wide eyes.
“Well, this is more of a gathering than I expected,” Roderick said, turning to close the front door behind him. “Gil, where’ve you and Lochlan been?” He looked around. “Where’s Lochlan?”
My momentary desire never to lie again faded instantly. “We had to shake off some of the Nightsworn that were trailing us. We split up,” I told him. Peter shot me a questioning look, but I shook my head slightly. “I followed Peter here.”
“Wanted a piece of the action, did you?” Roderick turned to Papa. “Five hundred thousand and not a shilling less.”
Even hearing such a number made me freeze, shocked that anyone could even think of paying such an amount for anything, but Papa nodded without a flicker of surprise on his face. “Of course. We have it ready for you right back here.”
Roderick followed Papa, and the instant they were out of sight, Peter seized the crate.
“What are you—” I began, but before I could finish, Peter kicked the door open and smashed the crate down on the ground outside with deliberate force.
Instantly, the wood splintered and there was an explosive blast of golden light as tiny pixies poured out of the crate, flying up in a flurry of glittering dust. These weren’t like Tinkerbell, who was the same size as a human, but tiny, only a few inches tall, and fluttering their wings as they rushed to escape.
Nora gave a shout of surprise as the pixies all flew into the woods, and there was a bellow as Roderick came charging toward us.
“What have you done?” he screamed, swinging at Peter.
Peter ducked under Roderick’s massive fist and pulled out his dagger. “I do what I want.”
Roderick drew his own dagger, and as he and Peter began circling each other, Papa and Nora faded back against the wall.
I looked between Peter, Roderick, my family, and the splinters of the crate where a few trapped pixies lay beneath the crate’s boards. Then as Roderick lunged for Peter again, I saw the Nightsworn emerging from the forest beyond the line where the pixies had disappeared.
They were coming for the Employer.
Roderick slashed at Peter, who slid under the blade and pivoted to swipe with his own dagger.
In the confusion, I darted past the pair to lift the boards off the faintly wiggling pixies.
“Go,” I told them, carefully picking off the boards that held them captive.
Several flew off once freed, but three others looked too injured to fly.
I scooped them up and cast an uneasy eye at the approaching Nightsworn.
Marta and Lochlan were at the front, running toward us with weapons drawn.
There was a long, drawn-out scream from behind me and I whirled to see Peter’s dagger embedded deep within Roderick’s chest. Roderick had caught hold of Peter’s wrist, clutching so tightly that Peter couldn’t break away.
“You…will…pay…” Roderick choked out, blood filling his mouth.
I edged back toward Nora and Papa, still holding the injured pixies in my hands. Peter looked up for the briefest moment as I passed, and the second he did, Roderick thrust his blade forward into Peter’s side.
Peter let out an unearthly shriek and wrenched himself away from Roderick, staggering until his back hit the wall. He blinked rapidly then slid down to the floor, clutching his side.
“Peter,” I said, hurrying forward and kneeling next to him.
“The…pixies,” Peter gasped, reaching his blood-covered fingers out. “Give them…to me.”
Every instinct I had screamed not to trust him. I had seen what men like him did to survive—what I had done to survive in the past. I pulled the pixies in closer to my chest. “You’ll hurt them.”
Peter began to shudder. “I won’t.”
Behind me, the crash of boots and shouted commands told me the Nightsworn were closing in.
“I saved your life last year,” Peter reminded me. He grimaced and his eyes closed momentarily, then he re-opened them, an intense look blazing there. “You owe me.”
The words settled heavily in my chest. A year ago, I wouldn’t have hesitated to walk away and let Peter die, whether or not I owed him my life. I wouldn’t have cared about any of it. That was who I had been back then.
My gaze dropped to the tiny creatures in my hands. Their wings had dulled and their movements were weak.
I didn’t want to be an unfeeling mercenary anymore. If there was a chance to alleviate suffering in the world, I wanted to be a part of it. I exhaled slowly and deposited the injured pixies into Peter’s hand and waited, nervously watching to see what he would do with them.
But instead of clenching his fist or something horrible, Peter simply closed his eyes and waited as the pixies, all sitting in his bloody palm, began to glow brighter.
Rather than drooping and losing their light, their wings straightened and began to give off pixie dust, shimmering with renewed strength.
Somehow, and for reasons that only Peter knew, he was healing them.
Just as the Nightsworn flooded into the room, the pixies took off and flew past the Nightsworn, out into the open air.
Peter watched them go, then sagged back with a faint smile, drawing in a long, rattling breath as he did so. I knelt beside him, not even caring that the Nightsworn were coming in with weapons drawn and pointed at each of us, but then they hurried over to look at Roderick, who was howling in pain.
“How did you do it?” I murmured to Peter. “You helped them.”
“Human blood heals pixies just as pixie blood heals us,” Peter said with a faint smile. “I was hoping one of them would heal me in return.” He groaned and tried to sit up but then slumped back down, fingers still pressed against his injury.
“Come away,” Lochlan said. He had come over to me and held his hand out, but I looked past him to where the pixies had vanished into the sky beyond, then remembered the vial of pixie blood still tucked into my vest. I took it out and handed it to Peter.
“A life for a life,” I told him. “We’re square now.”
A look of incredulity spread across Peter’s face as he took the vial.
“What is that?” one of the Nightsworn barked.
“It’s…it’s medicine,” I told them. It was only fair. Peter helped the pixies. He didn’t deserve to die after saving them.
“Wait,” the same Nightsworn officer said, starting forward, but Lochlan stepped between us so Peter and I were protected.
“Use it,” I told Peter in a rush. His fingers were too slick with his own blood to open it, so I helped him uncork the vial. He emptied the entire vial over his wound, then pressed his hand over it so the pixie blood was trapped against his skin.
It was impossible to breathe normally. I kept watching Peter’s face, still screwed up against the pain, while the Nightsworn hovered around Roderick behind me.
Lochlan crouched down next to me. “Hey, Peter. It’s Lochlan. Can you hear me?”
Peter cracked one eye open. “You’ve been working for the Nightsworn this whole time, haven’t you?”
Lochlan nodded. “And I know they never raided the cottage for the pixie dust. Was that you?”
“Yeah,” Peter said, a trace of that familiar mischievous smile flashing across his face. He shifted into a new position but kept his hand pressed against his side and closed his eyes again. “I’m not telling you where it is, though. Are you going to arrest me now?”
Before Lochlan could answer, Marta and Nora came over. Neither woman looked concerned in the slightest by Peter’s injury and ignored where he lay on the floor, eyes half-closed, and still panting for air.
Marta turned to the Nightsworn officers and pointed at Roderick. “Take that man out and have a physician tend to him. I want him alive for questioning, if possible.”
Roderick was dragged away, leaving a trail of blood behind him.
Once all the Nightsworn officers besides Lochlan were out, Marta turned to Nora. “So you’re the elusive Employer I’ve heard so much about.”
Nora met her gaze without a flicker of fear or embarrassment. “Not anymore.”
“We aren’t going to just let you go, Miss Davenport.”
Nora smiled. “Ah, so you do know me.”
Marta’s eyes narrowed. “Everyone with two shillings to rub together has heard of the Davenports. You might have married into a wealthy family, but there are still laws that need to be upheld. I just didn’t realize until now that you were so intimately involved in the Syndicate.
I’d have thought you’d think it was beneath you.
” Her eyes flicked over to me. “Good work on finding her, Jillian.”
I took an automatic step closer to Nora. She might have money, but I got the impression she didn’t know how to fight. If it came down to it, I would defend her until my dying breath.
“You’re very loyal to your Employer,” Marta said.
“No, I’m loyal to my sister,” I corrected her. “I won’t let you take her.”
Marta’s eyebrows gave a jump upward and she looked between me and Nora. “You know I need to bring her in, sister or not. Justice must be satisfied.”
Nora placed a hand on my shoulder and spoke so calmly that one would’ve thought we were simply having pleasant conversation at a garden party. “I know what you want to do. But I also know that everyone has a price. Name yours.”
Marta ran a finger along her chin. For all her talk of wanting to take in the Employer, she certainly wasn’t doing much to capture Nora. “I can’t just let you walk away from all this. It doesn’t work that way.”
“Doesn’t it?”
Marta glared. “My loyalties can’t be bought.”
“I’m not attempting to buy your loyalty at all,” Nora answered silkily. “I’m offering you a golden opportunity for more control. Isn’t that what you’ve always wanted?”
Marta hesitated. “I’m not following you.”