A Strange Hymn
Page 24

Aside from the lanterns hanging overhead, the only piece of furniture in the room is a massive table currently set for two. Spread out on it is what looks and smells suspiciously like Indian food, my favorite.
Des swaggers over to the table, wearing the same dark pants and shit-kicking boots that he did back on earth, his hair tied back with a leather cord.
I stare at the thick bands of muscle and the inked skin of his arms as he pulls out a chair for me. The only fae addition to his attire at the moment are the three bonze war cuffs that ring one bicep, and that pretty much just adds to his sex appeal at this point.
I slide into the seat he offers, watching him take his own.
Before I can even begin to serve myself, he does it for me. A plate of aloo gobi and another of rice lift into the air and meander over to me.
While I begin to scoop out a helping, a teapot moves to the mug in front of my plate, and it pours me a cup of chai.
“How did you even get your hands on this stuff?” I ask as I finish serving myself.
Des leans back in his seat, looking all too proud of himself. “There are perks to being a king.”
He spends a good five minutes watching me eat before he joins me. I know the man likes good Indian food himself—he’s the one that introduced me to the cuisine—but he seems more interested in my enjoyment than his own.
“Mind mixing a little business with dinner?” Des asks eventually.
I shrug. Now that we’re back in Somnia, it’s back to work for Des and back to finding things to do with myself for me. There’s pretty much nothing worse than boredom, so I’ll take a little business with dinner if it gives me something to do.
I use my napkin to wipe my mouth. “What’s up?”
Des snaps his fingers, and a sheet of parchment appears in midair, fluttering down in front of me. I don’t reach it before it lands on the plate of chicken tikka masala, the food’s oily orange sauce bleeding onto the paper.
Leaning forward, I grab the sheet of parchment and use my napkin to dab the sauce off of it.
“Was that really necessary?” I ask, frowning when my efforts to clean the paper only end up further smearing sauce all over it.
On the parchment is a chart of sorts, one column containing a list of names, another containing gender, another containing dates and times, another location, and then finally, a column containing what looks to be notes.
The Bargainer nods to the paper. “That’s a list of all the soldiers who’ve disappeared within the last three months,” he says, taking a sip of his chai.
I raise my eyebrows, looking at the chart all over again. The sight of so many names is staggering, and this list includes not just the missing female soldiers, but the missing male ones as well.
So far, Des and I haven’t talked much about the men who have disappeared from the Kingdom of Night, mostly because, unlike the women, the men who vanished have not reappeared, giving us no clues as to what might have happened to them.
“Notice anything unusual?” Des asks, watching me from over the rim of his cup.
I continue to skim the chart. “You know, if there’s something you want me to notice, you could just come out and say …” My words dry up when I get to the dates.
Since Des killed Karnon, no women have disappeared … but five men have.
I glance up at the Bargainer. “The men are still vanishing.”
Des looks out the window at the twinkling city below. “Many men disappear in the Night Kingdom,” he says conversationally. “It could be nothing.”
I can practically hear the but that follows his statement.
“What is it?” I ask, lowering the parchment.
He takes another sip of his tea. “Four of the last five men who’ve gone missing are soldiers.”
Too many disappearances to be a coincidence, which means …
It’s not over.
The paper rustles a little as my hand begins to tremble.
“But you killed him,” I say softly.
Des’s eyes soften as he gazes at me. “I killed Karnon.”
It takes me a few more seconds to put together what Des isn’t saying.
When I do, my eyes widen. “Someone else is taking the men.”
Chapter 15
Karnon only ever took the women. Now that Des killed him, those disappearances have stopped. The paper in my hand says as much.
But the men …
“So you think there’s more than one person behind this.” I stare at Des across the table, dumbfounded. “But … why? And how?”
Des runs a hand through his white blond hair, his arm muscles rippling. “I’m working on that.”
Just then, Malaki comes into the room, his strides long and powerful, looking every inch the pirate with his eye patch and scruffy cheeks.
He drops a large, waxy leaf on the table. “Solstice invite—the third one they’ve sent, for the record.” He crinkles his nose. “Ugh, what’s that smell?” he says, grimacing at the plates of Indian food scattered across the table.
Did he actually just scorn my dinner?
Des leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’re not going to Solstice this year.”
Malaki takes a seat, a plate and place settings appearing in front of him. A moment later he reaches for the tray of samosas.
“Really?” I say derisively to him, raising my eyebrows. A moment ago he’d been hating on my dinner, and now he’s about to eat it. “That’s how you’re going to play this?”
He gives me a confused look as he adds the samosa to his plate. Turning his attention to Des, he says, “That’s a really bad idea.”
Des lifts a shoulder. “Last time Callie visited another kingdom, she was someone’s prisoner.”
“And then you killed that kingdom’s king,” Malaki says smoothly. “I think everyone knows not to fuck with your mate.”
“We’re not going,” Des repeats.
“Being a mate does not mean you stop being a king.”
“Careful.” Des’s words cut through the room like a whip, his power riding them.
Malaki sits back in his seat, bowing his head. “Apologies, my king.”
The Bargainer’s body seems to ease, and the power that thickened the air moments ago now recedes.
“Loi du royaume,” Des says quietly.
Malaki mouth goes grim. “I know.”
I glance between the two men. So far I’ve been somewhat able to follow the conversation, but now they lost me.
“What’s that?” I ask. “That phrase you just said.”
Des nods to his friend. “Tell her, Malaki. If she’s to go and subject herself to Solstice because you think it’s a good idea, then you tell her what she’s going to have to sacrifice.”
Malaki sighs, then turns his attention to me. “You know the human saying, ‘When in Rome do as the Romans do’?”
I squint at him. “You actually know that phrase?” He doesn’t strike me as the kind of fairy who hangs out on earth.
“Do you know it?” he presses.
Looking from him to Des, I hesitantly nod.
“That’s the law here in the Otherworld.”
I’m still not following.
“When in the Night Kingdom,” Malaki explains, “a fairy must follow their laws. Des here doesn’t want you to leave the Night Kingdom because you’ll both be subject to another fae kingdom’s laws.”