A Stroke Of Midnight   ::   Гамильтон Лорел

“I don’t remember your voice being so sweet, Peasblossom,” Galen said.

“I’m frightened,” she said, as if that explained it.

Maggie May translated, “When the demi-fey be scared, they use what defense they have.”

“Their glamour,” I said.

“Aye,” she said. She was watching us all with narrowed eyes. She knew something was up.

“Come, little one,” Frost called, and even extended a hand like you’d offer a perch to a bird.

“I fear you, Killing Frost, as I fear the Darkness,” the voice said from among the cups.

“Do you fear me, Peasblossom?” I asked.

Quiet for a moment, or two, then, “No, no, I do not fear you.”

“Then come to me,” I said, and held my hand out to show I preferred a less intimate perch for her.

“You will protect me from the Darkness and the Killing Frost?” she asked.

I fought the urge to smile. It took concentration to fight off that pleasant sound. Touching would make it harder still, but I wanted her away from the sink area. She was a civilian, and if whatever was under the sink fought, I didn’t want any civvies in the line of fire.

“Come, Peasblossom, I won’t let them hurt you.”

“You promise?”

Doyle interrupted, “She cannot promise, for we do not know you are innocent.”

“Innocent,” she said, her voice rising with her fear, the wind clanging among chimes. “Innocent of what, Darkness?”

He stayed kneeling by Onilwyn, who had not risen to bait or answered questions. He was either that hurt or feigning. “It is but a step from finding a body to pretending to find a body that you put there.”

I frowned at him. No wonder he’d scared her.

He gave me a calm flick of his eyes, as if he saw nothing wrong with what he’d said.

Peasblossom was moaning in terror, hysterical. The illusionary wind was not warm now but cold with that icy threat of storm on its edge.

The teacups rattled with her frantic attempt to shove herself tighter against the back of the cabinet.

I had to raise my voice to be certain she could hear me. “I promise that neither Frost nor Doyle will harm you.”

Doyle said, “Merry,” as if I’d surprised him.

Silence from the teacups, then in a very neutral voice, “You promise?”

“Yes,” I said. I didn’t think she was guilty of anything, but just in case, I’d promised only that Frost and Doyle would not harm her. If she took that to imply that I’d promised her none of my guards would harm her, that wasn’t my fault.