“It would be the easiest way to see if she’s keeping the violin in her chambers. You could even offer to serenade her.”

“If Titania discovers me, I’ll be dead before I have a chance to draw my sword.”

And wouldn’t that be a tragedy? “Ice-boy,” I said, grinning, “please. As if I would let that happen. Your disguise is foolproof. Just don’t use Winter glamour, and you’ll be fine.”

Ash ran his fingers through his hair and leaned closer. “Puck,” he said in a harsh voice. “I…I can’t do it. This isn’t a game anymore. You’re asking me to seduce the queen of the Summer Court. This is high treason and besides…” He looked away, his face tightening. “I’m still Meghan’s knight. My vow…”

“Do you want to get the violin back, or not?” He actually looked stricken, and I felt a little sorry for the guy. “Look, ice-boy,” I whispered, “I don’t expect you to take her to bed, or even kiss her. Just the thought of that…ugh!” I shuddered and pushed the thought away, drawing my dagger in a smooth, furtive motion. “Oh, great, now that image is stuck in my head forever. Just…flirt a little. Be charming. Tell her about your ‘adventures.’ Then if she gets too touchy-feely, excuse yourself and get out. I’ll take care of the rest.”

“I don’t like it.”

“I didn’t think you would. Hold still.” Swiftly I brought the dagger up, cutting a strand of his long hair before he could react. It dropped into my palm, and I curled my fist around it. “Perfect. Much obliged, ice-boy.”

Ash reared back, eyes flashing, fingers going to his sword. I shot him a warning glare, and he remembered himself, dropping his hand from the hilt.

“What are you doing, Goodfellow?” he snarled.

“Keep it down, Prince.” I studied the strand between my fingers, watching it change from pale blond to jet-black, and smirked. “It’s all part of the plan, don’t worry.”

With a loud creak, the gates swung open and a satyr in a herald’s uniform padded through, beckoning to us urgently. “Well, here we go, ice-boy. Try to keep it together in front of the queen.”

Chapter Four

Ill Met by Moonlight, Proud Titania

We walked through the gate into the flowering tunnel of thorns on the other side. I breathed in deeply and sighed, loving the potent, fragrant smells of the forest. Beside me, Ash did not look as enamored. His posture was stiff, tense. I guess I couldn’t blame the guy, walking into the heart of enemy territory, surrounded by Summer fey, unable to use his magic or his weapon. I might’ve felt bad for him, if the whole thing wasn’t so darn amusing.

The tunnel ended in a curtain of vines. Dark shapes and a haunting, eerie tune filled the air on the other side. The melody pulled at my stomach, a sad, sweet sound, before I shook it off. Looking at Ash, and the pale determination on his face, I gave him a savage grin.

“No turning back now, ice-boy,” I muttered, and swept through the curtain into the room beyond.

Oberon and Titania’s throne room was a massive clearing with cathedral-size trees creating a vaulted ceiling overhead. Thick moss carpeted the floor, and briars hemmed in the edges of the clearing. A waterfall trickled into a crystal pool, where will-o-the-wisps and piskie lights danced, bobbing through the clearing like drunken stars. Summer gentry, in their ridiculously fancy outfits, sat or stood around a pair of thrones in the middle of the clearing, one empty, but the other quite occupied.

Oberon wasn’t here, of course, but Queen Titania sat on her throne with the smug, lazy grace of a cat overseeing a flock of mice.

Everyone says the Summer Queen is stunning, beautiful, absolutely captivating. Yeah, I guess she is, but so is a volcanic eruption, and probably less volatile. Working in the Seelie Court is certainly interesting at times, to say the least. The Summer rulers have caused floods and wildfires in the mortal world with their arguments, and Titania once threatened to sink an entire village into the mud because of a misunderstanding over a missing hairpin. Fortunately Oberon can usually calm her rages and temper tantrums…when he decides to involve himself, that is. Many times, he turns a blind eye to his wife’s activities—until they affect him, of course.

None of the nobles in the clearing seemed to notice us as we came in, their attention riveted to Titania, or something at the foot of her throne. Ash took in the room in one smooth, practiced glance, and his eyes suddenly widened. I followed his gaze, and my heart sank.

The music we’d heard in the tunnel, the slow, lilting melody that was haunting and dark and beautiful, wasn’t played by any of Titania’s harp girls or servants or faery musicians. The melody had been strange at first, because it was of a kind not normally heard in the faery courts. It wasn’t a harp, or a flute or any of the strange magical instruments found only in our world.

It was a violin. Being played by a mortal girl no older than eight, her small body tight as she sawed and ripped at the strings. She wore a simple black dress, and her long, mahogany hair was the same color as the instrument in her arms. Her eyes were closed as she played for her inhuman audience, her thin body swaying back and forth, ignorant of the queen’s dainty white hand resting atop her skull.

And I knew. Leanansidhe’s prized possession, and Titania’s newest plaything, wasn’t the instrument in the girl’s tiny, skillful fingers.

It was the girl herself. This was our “violin.”

Well, things just got a lot more complicated.

The song came to an end, and the girl’s eyes opened, dark and serious and a tad bemused, as if she wasn’t quite sure if this was a dream or not. The gentry tittered, clapping their hands and breathing small sighs of admiration, while Queen Titania gave a small, pleased smile.

“That was beautiful, Vi,” she purred, combing the girl’s hair with her fingers. The small human blinked and gazed up at the faery queen with solemn eyes.

“The ending was flat,” she said regretfully. Her voice was reedy and breathless, as if the violin had taken all the volume from her. “And it was rushed in the beginning.” She sniffed and bit her bottom lip. “I’m sorry, I wanted to play it better.”

“Oh, my dear, it was perfect.” Titania smoothed the hair back from the girl’s face. “Wasn’t it?” she added, looking fiercely at the nobles, who tittered and nodded and made appropriate noises of agreement. Beside me, Ash muttered something inaudible and shot me a sideways glance.

“A child,” he muttered. “Leanansidhe’s ‘toy’ is a child. How are we going to get her out, Goodfellow?”

“I’m thinking.”

“Think faster.”

“Now,” the queen continued, tugging at the girl’s dress, straightening it, “would you like something to eat, my darling? Then, if you want, you can play for us again after you’ve eaten.”

Vi sniffled. “Can I have cake?”

“Of course, my dear.” The queen smiled indulgently. “Would you like that?”

The girl nodded eagerly. Titania bent down and kissed her cheek. “Then I will have Cook bring you the sweetest cakes she can find.”

The child beamed. Titania snapped her fingers, and a brownie appeared at her arm. “You heard her,” she told it. “Tell Cook we want her best and sweetest cakes, as quickly as possible.”

“The little strawberry ones,” Vi added, smiling up at the queen. Titania nodded at the brownie, who bowed and scampered off, fleeing into the hedge. The queen chuckled and patted the girl’s head like she would a favorite small dog.

“Isn’t she darling?” she mused, and the nobles were quick to agree. “Such talent, and at such a young age. I don’t know how Leanansidhe could stand to give her up.”

She laughed, and the gentry laughed with her. The girl sat there with her hands in her lap, gazing vacantly at the faeries surrounding her. As the chuckles died down, the queen finally spotted us at the edge of the clearing, and her blue eyes lit up with delight.

“Oh, but my dears, we are being very rude.” The queen sat up, raising a slender hand to us. “We have esteemed visitors, returned from yet another impossible quest. Sir Fagan, Sir Torin, please step forward.”

I saw Ash draw in a quiet breath, steeling himself, and bit down my anticipation. “Here we go,” I whispered, throwing out my chest. “Just follow my lead.”

Chin up, chest puffed out, I raised my head and swaggered toward the waiting queen.

Titania laced her fingers together and watched us approach, a small smile on her perfect lips. But her gaze wasn’t fastened on me, but the “Summer knight” at my side. Ash, much to his credit, was playing his part, keeping his head up and a faint, proud smile on his face, his gaze only for the queen. Good, I thought as we reached the foot of the throne and bowed. Keep looking at ice-boy. Pay no attention to the buffoon next to him. Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.

“Sir Fagan.” Titania spared me a cursory glance. “Sir Torin.” She smiled widely at Ash. “Welcome back. I apologize for my husband—he is away from court at the moment and I am not sure when he will return.”

“We are sorry to have missed Lord Oberon,” Ash said, his voice confident and clear, and slightly pompous. He took the queen’s outstretched hand and brought it to his lips. “But to be in your presence, my lady—that is worth all the blessings of our good king.”

I resisted the urge to stare at him, biting down a grin. Well, look at you, ice-boy. Playing the part, after all. I forgot you know how to do this, too, if pushed hard enough.

“Oh, Sir Torin.” Titania blushed, somehow managing to look embarrassed and self-conscious even as she preened. “You are such a flatterer. And we are so glad that you have returned. You must have stories to tell, my dear Sirs. The court is most anxious to hear your newest adventures.” She clasped her hands together. “I simply insist you join us in the Grand Dining Hall tonight. Let us toast your noble quests, recognize your great deeds and you can hear my newest acquisition play for you.” She stroked the girl’s hair again, but Ash didn’t even glance at the human.