Her tiny tongue traced her lip. She was about to tell him something he really wasn’t going to like. What could be worse than hundreds of mirrors in Lydia’s yard? “Does Shea have it?”
“No. I know where the Counter-Window is, but I don’t have it yet. It’s being acquired for me.”
“Meaning?”
“Your father will have it very soon.”
That wasn’t too bad. “Do you think Shea suspects the Window is here?”
Dylis shook her head. “We can’t even find it.”
True, and he and Dylis had tried yesterday evening. While he’d worked, she’d poked around in boxes, the stable, and cabins between trying to get rid of the troublesome Greys. She’d brought him a couple of mirrors but they were nothing special. He was beginning to doubt it was here. “Maybe it was once, but it’s moved on.”
She rolled her eyes. “Don’t go there. If it’s moved on, we’ve got nothing to go on.”
He raked his fingers through his hair. If the mirror had moved on it could be anywhere in the world. “I need the—”
“I know.”
“So all I can do is ignore Shea and hope everything will fall into place.” And get rid of all the mirrors before Lydia woke up and looked out of a window and asked what was going on. Simple.
“About that. Have you noticed something about those mirrors?”
Caspian walked up to the window and actually looked at them. They were all antique. He moved to another window, and around the house until he’d seen as much as he could without going outside. Every one of them was old and valuable. The bad feeling worked its way to his toes which curled against the wood floor as if they could find somewhere to hide.
“Tell me they aren’t stolen.” But they were, they had to be. They’d been taken from museums, art galleries, and private houses overnight. This morning people would be waking up and wondering where the mirror worth thousands was and calling the police. And who knew what Shea had left—probably a note with his name and number on it. “Bastard son of a…” Whatever. Shea must have had a human mother or father once, but there was nothing remotely human about him. He was one hundred percent calculating fairy.
He was never going to be able to explain them away when, not if, the cops came to Callaway House. Because of him Lydia was now involved. He wished he’d just gone home instead of staying. At least then it would just be him in trouble. Now Shea knew where she lived. This was getting worse with every passing minute. He looked at Dylis. “Can you get rid of them?”
“I could, but I don’t know where they came from, and I’m guessing he’ll just bring more.”
How many mirrors were in Charleston? How long could this go on? “How long until you get the Counter-Window?”
“Not fast enough. And I can’t hide every mirror he brings.”
She was right. Shea had boxed him into a corner with cunning and theft. He’d underestimated the Grey and was now going to have to pay the price.
“You’re going to have to go out and reason with him.”
By reason she meant cut a deal that wasn’t going to cost more than he could afford. It was times like this Caspian wished he’d studied law. Legalese would’ve given him a great background in tangling fairies in clauses. Although to be fair lawyers only came about because of fairies trying to trick humans out of unborn children and souls.
“It’s too early to be giving up my soul. I try not to do that before nine.”
“Ha ha.” Dylis crossed her arms. “Not funny.”
“I’m not laughing. Isn’t this one of those moments where having my father intervene would be a good thing?” While not the best time to meet his father, now was as good a time as any.
“What would you have the Prince of Annwyn do? Return the mirrors? Kill a banished lord, his mother’s lover, no less? Think, Caspian. This isn’t about you.”
Strangely it felt all about him. He boiled the kettle and made a cup of extra strong coffee. He needed to be thinking as clearly as possible. At the moment all he could come up with was I’m so screwed.
How long until Lydia woke up and saw that all was not right with the world? How was he going to explain the mirrors?
“Okay. My father won’t step in because it wouldn’t go well politically. You’re here in his place and you’re telling me to cut a deal to my terms. However, there are penalties for dealing with Greys and because I’m half-fairy I still have to bear those penalties… which means my father thinks I’m a liability and wants to see me in the river.”
“You are exceedingly dense. I’ve given you a lifetime of education in all things Court.” She spun and walked away. “Your father doesn’t want to see you dead or drowned in the river of damned souls. However, he can’t intervene without revealing your identity. You think one Grey is a problem?” She threw her hands in the air. “Imagine all the banished on your doorstep, knowing who your father is. Plus, he’s also got a lot more to deal with right now because of his mother’s affair with Shea.”
Caspian put his cup down and looked at her. “So I’m the sacrifice.”
“You’re mortal. Get used to it,” Dylis snapped. She could be mouthy, but she never usually cracked. Whatever was happening was putting her under pressure too. But it still wasn’t a good enough reason for him to give up and die.
“I don’t want to die today, or next week. Or whenever the Hunter of Annwyn comes to exact payment for dealing with Shea.” He wrapped his hands around his coffee cup, but the heat didn’t warm him. His blood was running cold with adrenaline and more than a little fear.
“If you find the Window for your father, I’m sure he’d let you off with just a warning.” She smiled, that peculiar cold grin that only a fairy could manage. Too many teeth and with a glint in the eye usually only seen by people about to be devoured by something wild and untamed.
The coffee turned tasteless in his mouth. She wanted him to deal to be free of him and get back to her life at Court. Sneaky. He glanced out the window, but there was still the problem of the mirrors. Maybe he could talk to Shea without cutting a deal.
Unfortunately the sky was clear of flying pigs.
“Were you talking to someone?”
Caspian’s head snapped up at the sound of Lydia’s voice. She’d put on the pajamas that she’d never managed to get into last night. The hot pink and black spots weren’t what he’d have expected her to wear. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. And he didn’t know what to say.
“This just got worse,” Dylis muttered.
He resisted the urge to glance at Dylis. How many seconds until Lydia realized it was far too bright in the kitchen and that her yard was full of mirrors? How many heartbeats until she demanded answers he wasn’t ready to give and that she wouldn’t believe?
Her gaze flickered from to the window. “What’s going on?” She frowned and took a couple of paces forward. “Are they… How…” She turned to look at him and he wished he could shrink and vanish like Dylis did. “There are mirrors outside.”
“I know.”
She looked outside again as if to be sure that was what she was seeing. Then she opened the back door and stood in the doorway. The morning sun caught in the reflective surfaces and threw the light back at her so she was surrounded by a white glow.
Shea had planned that well. Angled them all to catch the sunrise.
“Shit.” She lifted her hand to shield her eyes. “How did this happen?” Lydia turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. “You know. Who were you talking to? What’s going on?”
Caspian swallowed. He should have told her about fairies last night. Told her the truth about the weird bumps and the ghost in the house. Now it was going to be much, much worse. He glanced at Dylis then back at Lydia. Saying nothing wouldn’t help either and he’d miss an opportunity to tell her the truth. He’d never told anyone the whole truth—the idea hurt. She’d laugh, or call him crazy, kick him out… all things he’d expected to happen last night, but none had eventuated.