face, but all I can see are her stockings.

“And you are in direct violation of the Blood Autumn treaty,” says the man. His voice is smooth and deep, almost musical, with the lilt of an accent I can’t place.

Mab pauses.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says.

“Don’t play stupid. Your time among the mortals is making you soft. I know what I’ve seen.”

“This is a circus,” Mab says, her voice pitched dangerously low. “Eyes are meant to be deceived here. What you speak is nonsense. And what you’ve done is unforgivable. You dare stand in the Winter Court’s own land and challenge its queen?”

The man doesn’t answer. He shifts his feet, though, which is answer enough.

“I could have you killed,” Mab says, “and not even your Summer King would bat an eyelash. You know you are not welcome here, and you know your life is forfeit the moment you step foot on my land. Now, unless you wish to pay for tonight’s near-disaster with your life, you will leave. And you will not return.”

I expect the man to run. There’s blood in Mab’s words, a fury begging to be unleashed. Instead, he stands his ground. I have to give him credit; he has balls.

“As you say, Queen Mab,” he says. “But we are on to you. The dream trade will stop unless you meet our demands.” He steps back and turns, begins walking away. “Even queens must pay for their actions. Even queens must die.”

Then, without any signal I can see, the man vanishes from the night.

Mab sighs and stands there a moment longer.

Then, reaching down to the tabby cat now purring at her feet, she says, “You can come out now, Lilith dear. It’s safe once more. The bad man is gone.”

Lilith comes out of her hiding place, her frilly black dress smeared with mud.

“What does he want?” Lilith asks. Something about her voice makes me shiver. It’s not as vapid as usual.

“Nothing important,” she says, stroking Lilith’s hair like a pet. “Nothing to worry yourself over. Come, let’s get you some cotton candy.”

She guides Lilith away, Poe following close at their heels. I stay there a moment longer, waiting for the blond man to show up, waiting for someone to come under and yell, “Hah! Found you!” But there’s only the rumble of the crowd behind me. The music in the tent changes, but I don’t head back to my seat. I don’t wend my way back through the sideshow. I just lie there in the cold mud, too distracted to shiver, watching the woods on the far end of the field.

I know without a doubt that there’s more to Sabina’s murder than a random act. Mab is hiding something. And I have a terrible feeling that her secret will get us all killed.

Chapter Six: Thief Of Hearts

The next morning, before the sun is even up, someone bangs on my trailer door. My heart sinks the moment I gain consciousness. Experience has proven that waking up like this is never a good sign. I pull on a shirt and shorts and open the door. Sure enough, it’s Kingston, looking like the whole world’s on fire and he’s just too tired to give a damn.

“We’re leaving,” he says, handing me a travel mug of what smells like coffee. “In twenty minutes. They’re disconnecting the water in ten, so you might want to hurry if you want to shower.”

“Wait, what? What time is it?” My head still feels like it’s swimming and I’ve got that sharp taste in my sinuses that I’m positive is God’s punishment for waking up at the ass-crack of dawn.

“Five,” he says without checking a watch. “And I already told you the important part: we’re leaving.”

“But, we aren’t scheduled to jump ’til tomorrow.” I take a deep drink from the coffee, hoping that maybe it will help me remember the day of shows I’ve apparently missed.

“And Mab changed her mind last night. Look,” he says, and I really do look at him. He looks about as bad as Mel did yesterday, with dark circles under his eyes. His black hair is tangled and I’m pretty certain that’s the shirt he was wearing yesterday, but I don’t mention it. “Don’t ask questions, okay? For your own sake. Just go take a quick shower or brush your teeth or whatever you do in the morning, grab something to eat, and get in the truck. You’re riding with Lilith and Penelope.”

“But the tent,” I say, and then I realize why something about the view seemed off. My door opens out to the chapiteau. And yet right now, it’s all empty field. It clicks. “Wait, so Mab…she used magic to take the tent down? I thought she refused to do that.”

“Don’t assume,” Kingston snaps. He takes a deep breath, grabs the coffee from my hands, and takes a drink. “To be more precise, she used my magic last night to take the tent down. And now, I either want to sleep for the week or die. I’m not fussy. But I’m also not asking questions, and I suggest you do the same.” He takes another drink, grimaces, and swirls his fingers over the lid. I don’t see anything happen, but the next swig he takes brings a relieved smile to his face. “Much better,” he says.

He takes another big gulp and hands it back to me, then turns away and starts back to his own trailer. “Ten minutes,” he calls back. “And be careful with that. It’s strong.”

I take a drink and nearly burn my throat. He’s spiked it with something that tastes like Kahlua and nail varnish. I dump it out in the grass and go find my toothbrush. When I go back outside, I’m not at all surprised to see that spot of grass is already turning brown.

* * *

No one knows where the next site is.

Apparently, Mab’s completely changed the tour schedule overnight, refunding everyone who bought in advance and donating a dollar to Clowns Without Borders for every refunded ticket, just to soften the blow. At least, this is what Penelope tells me in the truck as we make our way to some unknown destination, following the semi in front of us. I'm hoping no one needs to stop for a piss on the way — myself included. I've got a feeling Mab hasn't scheduled any stops for the drive. Penelope’s driving, with me riding passenger and Lilith riding bitch. Poe is curled up in Lilith's lap, fast asleep. The kid hasn’t said anything, and Penelope — usually full of conversation — isn’t doing her part to mend the silence. NPR is playing in the background, but all I’m really paying attention to is the landscape sliding by and my deep, deep desire to pass out with my face pressed to the window. I am not a morning person, and the clock on the dashboard is telling me it’s only 7:13.

“What you did the other day,” Penelope says, breaking me from my stupor. “It was quite brave.” She reaches over and rustles Lilith’s hair. “If you hadn’t jumped in there, our little girl might have been crushed.” She smiles over at Lilith like calling her “our little girl” is some sort of compliment or like the kid is completely mentally vacant. It’s probably a bit of both.

“Just seemed like the right thing to do,” I mutter. Clearly it was the right thing to do; the surprise came from the fact that no one else had done it.

For her part, Lilith just stares at the road ahead, not really responding except by stroking the contented Poe.

“What did you get up to last night?” Penelope asks, seemingly out of nowhere.

I glance at her.

“What do you mean?”

“Well,” she says, not taking her eyes off the road. “I saw you come into the sideshow, but I never saw you leave. And I was in that tank for quite a long time. I find it to be relaxing.” She says the last bit like it’s some secret, as though swimming in a tank for a crowd of gawking people is her idea of a spa day.

A beat passes. My brain is too tired to try and come up with a suitable answer. I hadn’t gone back to my trailer until the second act was nearly over, and although I’d gone to bed right away, I couldn’t sleep at all. She’s got me cornered, but she doesn’t seem to realize it.

Apparently my lack of an answer is enough for her.

“It was a curious night, was it not?” she continues.

“I guess so.” I wish she’d just let me sleep. There’s no way I’m going to make it out of this conversation

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