sight and then when she gets frustrated she burns it.”
“I know well what Madeline Black is capable of,” the faerie said through his teeth. “I am a member of Queen Amarantha’s court, and I have observed her powers close at hand.”
“You’re one of Amarantha’s bootlickers, huh?” I said, lowering to the ground as I tried to place his face and failed. There were way too many courtiers at Amarantha’s castle.
“I am not a bootlicker,” the faerie said, drawing himself up. It was impressive the way he managed to look haughtily offended even though I held a sword at his throat. “I am Arkan, the Duke of Trium, second cousin to the Queen herself.”
“You’re a toady—that’s what you are,” I said. “You were sitting in the lounge keeping an eye out for me. You’re no better than an errand boy.”
“I think you’re insulting errand boys,” Beezle said.
“I was charged by my queen and by her ambassador with a mission and I will fulfill it,” Arkan said. “You are not to interfere here.”
“Who said anything about interfering?” I said. “Maybe I’ve got my own reasons for being here.”
“Do you think I am a fool, or that my queen is? She knew that once you discovered her aim you would meddle,” Arkan said.
Interesting. Amarantha was up to no good and she didn’t want me to know about it. Which certainly raised the question of why she had decided to do her dirty deeds right under my nose. Beezle asked before I could.
“If Amarantha didn’t want Maddy around, then why is she doing her badness in Chicago?” Beezle asked.
“You know very well that there is a magical convergence of energy here,” Arkan said. “Do not play the fool.”
I did not know very well at all. In fact, I knew nothing about it. Beezle, however, looked thoughtful. My home guardian is like a little gargoyle-shaped encyclopedia of all things supernatural. I could tell that he was putting two and two together and getting four.
“That’s why she needed the witches,” Beezle murmured. “She doesn’t want her fingerprints on it if it works.”
“What are you muttering about?” I asked.
“It’s almost the solstice,” Beezle said.
“So?” I said. “Lots of witches do stuff around the solstice. It’s a thing.”
“Lots of good witches perform spells around the solstice, yes,” Beezle said. “And so do lots of bad ones. Because the solstice is a time of life and death and rebirth, and thus has a lot more magical oomph than a regular old day.”
“Did you just say the solstice has ‘oomph’?”
“Yeah, so?”
I decided not to pursue it. “What does that have to do with Chicago?”
“You truly do not know,” Arkan said, looking from Beezle’s face to mine. “I have been a fool. If I had only waited to discover your purpose here . . .”
“You mean, instead of taking off like a maniac the second you saw me? Yeah, you blew it. Now someone tell me what Amarantha’s up to, because at this point I’m going to have to stop her just on principle.”
“Chicago is a special place, magic-wise. You know how all of the old rail lines from the east converged on the city and then went out west, and all the shipping went through here to the canal?” Beezle said.
“Yeah,” I said, vaguely remembering some of this from elementary school history.
He squinted at me like he knew I didn’t really remember, but then continued. “There’s a reason for that besides Chicago’s strategic location. Magical energy converges on this city in a big way. It’s the reason why so many supernatural creatures live here, and why so many witches choose to practice here. That energy amplifies existing powers.”
“Okay, I’m following,” I said. “Chicago makes magic bigger and better, and so does the solstice. And the two combined mean that practitioners will get more out of whatever spells they cast. But this can’t be the only place in the world that does so. There has to be another city with special mojo where Amarantha could have gone, someplace where I wouldn’t get in her way.”
“There is, but the others are a lot farther away from Amarantha’s kingdom. Plus, her son is here, so she’s already got ties to the local supernatural community. The only fly in the ointment is you. Sammy Blue isn’t here just because he’s Amarantha’s ambassador. He’s here because he’s got the Red Shoes,” Beezle said, looking at Arkan for confirmation.
I had to give the faerie credit. I never would have seen the flicker in his eyes if I hadn’t been looking for it.
“The solstice is a time of life and death and rebirth, you said?” I asked Beezle, trying to pull all the threads together in my head. “And Amarantha needs witches and the Red Shoes . . .”
I stopped, because something horrible had just occurred to me. “Whatever spell she’s casting needs a sacrifice. And they’re going to use the shoes to do it.”
Beezle nodded. “It’s got to be something big, because the person wearing the shoes will generate a lot of agony for the spell. The suffering of the wearer will help to power the curse.”
“Extra solstice points, extra Chicago-magical-energy points, and hours-of-torturing-a-sacrifice points,” I said, ticking them off on my fingers. “And when the curse goes, Amarantha doesn’t want her own magic to be on it. So there’s only one person she could possibly be after. Lucifer.”
Beezle patted me on the shoulder. “See? If you exercise your brain enough, this kind of thinking gets easier.”
“Amarantha is trying to cast a spell against Lucifer?” I said to Arkan. “I thought she was smarter than she looked, but I guess I was wrong.”
“Do not insult my queen,” Arkan said. “She is a thousand times the woman you will ever be.”
“That’s probably true,” I said. “But it doesn’t change the fact that she’s making a huge mistake by messing with Lucifer.”
“The Morningstar has insulted Queen Amarantha and the whole of faerie by claiming dominion over her court as repayment for the insult done to you,” Arkan said.
“So you’re acknowledging that there was an insult?” I said. “Because it generally is considered poor form to try to kill an ambassador, but Amarantha didn’t seem to agree with me.”
“Lucifer is not the emperor he imagines himself to be,” Arkan said as if I had never spoken. “He cannot even control the fallen of his own court. Look how Focalor conspires against him.”
“I’m sure that Focalor is suffering in a tiny cage surrounding by electrified bars right now,” I said. “Don’t you worry about Focalor. Worry about Amarantha, because nothing good will come of this, even though she’ll never succeed.”
“You think you can stop Sammy Blue? The ambassador has never yet failed in a mission for his queen,” Arkan said.
“There’s always a first time for everything,” I said. “And I am not going to leave and let some innocent be tortured by those shoes. So take me to your leader and all that.”
“You have broken the elevator,” Arkan said sulkily. “So thoroughly that the humans cannot even pry the doors open.”
I was suddenly aware of the clank of metal on metal and of several voices arguing just outside the elevator. By the sounds of it, they’d been there for many minutes without my noticing. I tend to get tunnel vision—and hearing—when I’m focused on a task.
“Veil yourself,” I told Arkan.
“Why should I?”
“Gods above and below,” I said. “I have never met a faerie that didn’t act like a spoiled child. I can’t believe your race has survived this long. You need to veil yourself because in a second I’m going to blast those doors open. And since I have my wings out I can’t be seen. But you can. So unless you want to be detained by humans and forced to answer a lot of questions about that mess downstairs in the kitchen, you will do as I say. Oh, and don’t try anything,” I said, waving the tip of my sword just under his chin.
“You would not dare kill me,” Arkan said. “I am a close relative of the queen. You would be forced to pay a blood price to answer for my death.”
