He’d woken up after flying from Boston to Montana to find his da cooking breakfast for them: sausage and pancakes shaped like deer. It wasn’t just any deer, either – they looked like Bambi from the Disney cartoon. Charles didn’t want to know how his father had managed that.
Charles preferred his deer to taste like meat and his pancakes to look like pancakes. Brother Wolf thought he was too picky. Brother Wolf was probably right.
‘The humans were driven out and the gates closed against them. Army helicopters sent to surveil the area can’t seem to find the reservations to fly over them.’
Charles snorted. ‘Typical fae stuff.’
‘They’ve approached me,’ Da said.
Charles put down his fork. Anna, being Anna, took the spatula out of his da’s hand and tugged him down to sit with them. She didn’t say anything, just piled up some pancakes on a plate, poured maple syrup over them, and handed them to his da.
‘What did they say?’ asked Charles.
‘They apologized for the disruption their actions will have on our ability to integrate with human society.’ He ate a bite of pancake and closed his eyes. ‘They thanked me for my son’s help in the matter of Les Heuter.’
‘The fae thanked you?’ asked Charles. The fae didn’t thank anyone, nor was it wise to thank the fae: it put you in their power.
His father nodded. ‘Then they asked me to meet with them to discuss matters of diplomacy.’
‘What did you say?’
His father smiled briefly, ate another bite of pancake. ‘I told them I’d consider it. I don’t intend to let them force me into following their lead.’
Anna held up her glass of orange juice in a formal toast. ‘To interesting times,’ she said.
His da leaned over and kissed her forehead.
Charles smiled and took a bite of his deer pancake. It tasted just fine.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
No story is written alone. I’d like to thank the usual suspects as well as Supervisory Special Agent Randy Jarvis, Public Affairs Specialist Katherine Gulotta, and Special Agent Greg Comcowich of the Boston FBI for the time and effort they spent so I had a chance at getting things right. Thanks also go to the fine people of the Ghosts & Gravestones Tour of Boston. You rock. Though I have to say, if I never hear the phrase ‘Boston Molassacre’ again, it will be too soon. Brenda Wahler sent critical information at just the right moment. Thank you.
As always, if this book is enjoyable, it is their fault – all mistakes are mine.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Patricia Briggs lived a fairly normal life until she learned to read. After that she spent lazy afternoons flying dragon-back and looking for magic swords when she wasn’t horseback riding in the Rocky Mountains. Once she graduated from Montana State University with degrees in history and German, she spent her time substitute teaching and writing. She and her family live in the Pacific Northwest, and you can visit her website at www.patriciabriggs.com
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