Raith intended to spend the remainder of the night in his library. After upgrading the furniture to the luxurious pieces he had in his current room, he found himself returning to the castle and pacing. With all that had happened he was too spun up and anxious to study or train. So he walked back and forth for hours worrying over problems he had neither the power nor information to solve.

  How was he going to get Thea healed?

  Was Tolliver ok?

  Could he get them out of this castle without becoming entangled with the fae?

  When they got out, how would they stay safe from the inevitable next assassination attempt?

  The thoughts bouncing relentlessly around his head were interrupted by knock at the door. Morning light shone through the cracks in the curtains to reveal that his clothes and armor had been mysteriously returned, along with another neatly folded pile of clothing that didn't belong to him sitting on the chest at the foot of the bed.

  The knock came again, this time louder. Raith quickly threw on his old pants and shirt and opened it. An elderly gnomish man in a butler outfit stood patiently, a step away from the door with his hands clasped behind his back. He gave Raith a once over and a frown of disapproval.

  “Did you not find the clothes we provided to your liking, my lord? They were matched to your size from the ones you brought, but I can have the tailor make something new if the fit isn’t proper.”

  Raith glanced behind him at the extra pile of clothing that had appeared.

  “No. I mean, I haven’t tried anything on yet.”

  The butler raised an eyebrow.

  “I see. It seems your party has neglected to bring an entourage. We can provide servants to help you prepare.”

  “No thank you,” Raith said quickly. “I can get dressed on my own.”

  The gnome gave a small bow, but Raith got the sense he was disappointed. Or maybe disgusted was a better word.

  “As you wish, my lord. Please be in attendance at the dining area in one hour.”

  Raith walked over to pull open the curtains and see if he could get some sense of where they were. Not that he knew anything about the geography of Malthus, but it might be useful to know where the world’s most notorious spy network had their headquarters. Assuming he remembered any of this in a week, that is.

  He was disappointed by the lack of useful perspective from his room. A sheer drop down the castle wall into the sea, and nothing but water as far as the eye could see. Either they were on the coast or an island.

  He turned his attention to the clothing. There were several sets of outfits, all finery that he felt ridiculous trying on. They fit perfectly, of course, but it was all far too fancy for him. He finally settled on the closest thing to normal he could find. A simple white tunic with black pants and vest, which still left him feeling like an impostor.

  After that he took a moment to give himself a shave and comb the knots out of his hair before putting it back in a ponytail. He looked at himself in the mirror and struck a pose, then laughed out loud at the absurdity of it.

  Another knock came.

  “Come in.”

  Thea came through with Nyhm right behind. She wore a lovely green dress, and seemed considerably more comfortable in fancy clothes than he did. They’d even sewed her a lace sleeve that covered the stump of her arm. The elegance of her attire was only slightly offset by the fact that she had obviously been crying.

  Nyhm, on the other hand, wore his normal vest and loose fitting pants. He scowled defensively when Raith raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll not be stuffed into those outfits like a peacock.”

  Thea smiled apologetically.

  “Don’t bother trying to change his mind, I already tried.”

  His brother raised a bottle of some midnight blue liquid with tiny glowing specks swimming within.

  “This will have to be enough.”

  “What is it?”

  “Starberry wine. Zinny gave me the recipe and helped collect the ingredients. One of which is supposedly actual starlight, but don’t ask me how she got it.”

  Thea looked at him with a furrowed brow.

  “When you present that to the Earl, you must tell him that it is a token of goodwill, without claim or debt. We cannot afford to open the door to obligations with the fae, do you understand?”

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  Nyhm swallowed and looked uncertain.

  “I’ll just not give it to him, then. No need to risk it.”

  “No, it will be fine so long as you say the words. It is probably a good idea to curry some goodwill while we’re here. Which is also why I gathered you two a little early. A fae banquet is a test of wit, etiquette, and self-control. The fae delight in those who can navigate their rules with grace, but they are just as eager to claim those who stumble. Eat little, speak carefully, and always, always watch for the trap hidden in beauty.”

  Raith groaned.

  “I’m doomed. How bad would it be if it was just the two of you?”

  She frowned.

  “Very bad. Don’t worry, we’ll be alright if you just remember a few things. Do not enter into any contests. Don’t accept gifts from anyone at that table. They are bound by the Right of Courteous Hospitality to have mortal food for us there that will be safe to eat. Do not, I repeat DO NOT, eat or drink anything else. Sluagh food can be gross, like rotted meat or coal ash, but they might use illusion to disguise it as something delicious. At a sidhe court you could be in danger of enchantment, but here the wrong food could kill you. The fae are under no obligation to protect you from your own curiosity.”

  This was already more rules than he could remember. Especially at a stressful social function with someone who might feed him to giant rats. Raith activated [Staccato] and went into his library to write all this down. After finishing, he returned to get the rest of the list.

  “Do not say ‘thank you’, as that is an admission of obligation. And don’t apologize, as that is an admission of guilt. Finally, don’t lie, at all ever, to a fae. They cannot lie to you, so see it as the highest form of insult if you lie to them.”

  “Those ‘thank you’ and ‘don’t apologize’ rules are going to be tough. Mom really beat those manners into us from young age.”

  “Just use a stand-in phrase while we’re here. ‘You honor me with your kindness’ and ‘I meant no offense’ or something. It’s probably not the end of the world if you mess those up. To be honest I’m not entirely sure how solid some of this information is since the fae have been gone from the realm for so long. Just be careful what you say and how you say it, ok?”

  Nyhm gave a small smile and tossed his head towards Raith.

  “I just won’t talk. He’s the one you need to worry about.”

  Raith opened to his mouth to object, then closed it. His brother was probably right. The trio stepped out into the hallway to find a brownie standing patiently against the wall across from his door. This one had an outfit that was the same shades of beige and brown, but tailored like a butler’s uniform.

  It gave them a bow, then headed off down the hall at a brisk walk. They all had to hurry to keep up as the brownie led them down three flights of stairs, to wind through several hallways to the dining hall. Raith smelled it before they arrived, and the odors that hit his nose were almost enough for him to break into a run.

  It smelled like every wonderful thing from his childhood. The sweet rolls his mom would make. A warm spring day right after a rain. His dad’s uniform after running to give him a hug when he got home from a long patrol. Raith remembered pressing his face into the hard leather and feeling completely safe, like his dad was the strongest man alive. The memory made him long for home, and stood in sharp contrast to the room they soon entered.

  The strange enchantment of scents evaporated as they stepped into the dining hall. High stained glass windows depicted gruesome scenes of torture and battle, letting in just enough light to leave the entire room draped in ominous shadows. An absurdly long table dominated the center of the room. It could have sat fifty people, and was adorned with dusty crystal chalices and centerpieces of dead flowers strewn in cobwebs.

  The far end was the only area set for dining, and the food was already in place. Closest to them was what had to be the mortal food. Eggs fried in butter, stacks of thick toast, jam, along with sliced fruit and cheeses. The head of the table was surrounded by plates that made Raith want to retch. He cursed his [Hawksight] for being able to see the maggots swimming around in the graying sliced ham, while the moldy bread brought on a surge of anxiety at the reminder of his torment with the Grins.

  Quickly averting his eyes to avoid a growing panic, he looked to the far side of the table where a basket overflowing with different colored flowers sat along side a jar of golden honey that seemed to glow with its own inner light. He had a sudden and overwhelming urge to dip his finger into that jar to steal a taste, but remembered Thea’s caution and restrained himself.

  No one else had yet arrived, and the brownie butler stood beside the three chairs in front of the mortal food and gestured with a slight bow before taking his leave through the door at the other end of the room. It felt odd being left by themselves in the dimly lit hall, and Raith thought he could see things shifting in the shadows.

  They all jumped as the door behind them slammed open. Countess Selene entered with grace and pomp. A pair of knights flanked her like great cats, noiseless in spite of the moonsilver plate armor they each wore. The hems of her ethereal white dress were held off the floor by two fluttering sprites who looked like miniature versions of Zinny.

  As the procession arrived across the table from them, the knights pulled out her chair. Thea elbowed Raith, and the three of them stood. With a polite nod, Selene took her seat while her knights retreated back near the wall. Now Thea sat, so Nyhm and Raith followed suit, but Raith quickly stood back up.

  “Please allow me to make introductions. These are my companions, Lord Nyhm and Lady Thea. Joining us is Countess Selene, the Warden of Borders.”

  Raith felt quite proud of himself for remembering his manners. Maybe he wouldn’t be so bad at the noble stuff after all. A confused expression crossed crossed Thea’s face.

  “How do you know the Countess?”

  Selene offered a sly grin, and Raith’s self-congratulating warmth evaporated as the fae spoke.

  “Why, he tackled me to the floor in the corridor yestereve.”

  Thea turned to Raith, aghast.

  “He did what?”

  The sidhe’s smile widened.

  “While nude, no less. It was all really quite abrupt.”

  “Nude?!”

  “Not a stitch. Nothing but that strange rope weapon. For a moment I thought he meant to tie me up.”

  Even Nyhm couldn’t keep silent at this.

  “What the hell, Raith?”

  As he opened his mouth to defend himself, the double doors at the far end of the hall flew open and the Hollow Earl stepped through. The sluagh looked much as he had yesterday, and several paces behind him walked a fae that Raith initially thought was Gloam, but soon saw was significantly taller and more muscular. Although the nuckelavee held no visible weapons, he radiated an aura of danger and strength.

  The Earl paused next to his seat while the guardian pulled it out. Everyone rose, then sat again after the sluagh. He smiled thinly around the table, but it was utterly devoid of warmth.

  “I trust our accommodations were to your satisfaction,” he whispered.

  Raith nodded quickly.

  “Very much so. You honor us with your kindness.”

  He threw a wink at Thea, glad to have recovered at least some of his dignity by remembering her rules. The Earl inclined his head slightly.

  “Excellent. Then perhaps you can tell me why you assaulted one of my servants last night.”