But then, Gil had been astonished by and interested in the griffin. That interest had not been false, she was sure.

If not Gil, then maybe Turner? But . . .

“If we’re talking about the same guy,” Kenzie said, “I don’t see how he can threaten your kids. He’s a university professor, not a mage or a half Fae. He’s human, and not even magical.”

“He has found a way. Or he has minions who do his work for him. I do not know. He showed me a picture.” Brigid’s arrogance gave way to fear and sorrow. “Of my wee ones tied up and locked away, their eyes bound. I do not know how he made this picture, but it looked so real. He had it on a human device.” She shaped her hand as though holding something the approximate dimensions of a smartphone.

“Oh,” Kenzie said. “The picture might be real. I’m sorry.”

“He takes me out of here at times and locks me into another place, a human place, a shed he calls it. It smells terrible, and the human world has so much iron. It hurts me.”

She shuddered. Kenzie stepped to her. “I’m sorry,” she said again. It was a strange feeling to have sympathy for a Fae, but the woman’s fears were understandable.

Brigid lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “It is what is before me, the challenge I must meet. I will obey him and breed the beasts—I can’t risk the life of my daughters. But all the while I wait for a chance to kill him and return home.”

“I like the way you think. We’ll gut him together.” Kenzie went so far as to lay her hand on the woman’s arm. The acrid, sulfur scent of Fae curled in her nose—but she didn’t pull away. Touch was comforting, soothing, even for non-Shifters.

“I have no weapons,” Brigid said. Her smile returned. “Though now I have you.”

“True.” Kenzie looked around, seeing only trees, mud, and leaves, encircled by mists. “Are we really trapped in here? Why can’t we just walk back out through the mist?”

Brigid gave her an amused look. “Of course, I would be standing here mourning my children if I could simply walk through the mists and be home. I have tried. Many times. You go through, and end up back here.”

“Then how does Turner—or whoever it is—come and get you?”

“That I do not know. He appears, locks me in cuffs, and leads me out. Then I am in the human world, in tall woods, and he shoves me into the small building and locks the door. When I am finished, he walks me back again. I have tried again and again to discover the gate to the human world when he is gone, but always I find myself here again. I thought that if I could get to the human world, perhaps I could find another way to Faerie, through the standing stones I have read about. Are there standing stones near where you came in?”

“Not so you’d notice,” Kenzie said. “Other powerful places, though.” She continued her study of the area. She’d never been to Faerie and had no idea if the trees were like this. Uncle Cristian would know—he had an uncanny amount of knowledge stored in his brain.

Brigid’s arrogance left her. Her face settled into lines of resignation, of one who knew her choices were limited.

“Wait.” Kenzie frowned. “Bowman found a silver charm. Did that have anything to do with getting through the gate? It might have been a magic device.”

“Silver charm?” Brigid came alert. “In the shape of a knot?”

“Yes? You’ve seen it?”

“It’s mine. He took it from me. It was my mother’s—has been in my family for generations.”

“Oh.” Kenzie deflated. “Might not be the key to the gate, then.”

“No, it is simply an ornament. He liked it, because it is heavy silver, but it is common. In my home, that is.” Brigid let out a sigh. “It is strange, is it not? We are enemies, you and I. I should feel great distaste that you stand here unclothed, so barbaric, but I do not. If I am to escape, I will need your help. But that is not all of my feeling. I am grateful for your presence. I had grown lonely.”

She looked wistful, this lovely woman with her certainty that Fae were the greatest creatures in the universe.

“Don’t write us off yet,” Kenzie said. “I’m getting out of here and back to my wee one. I say that when Turner comes back in for you, we jump him, take whatever magical device he’s using to get in and out, and go.”

“It may not be so simple,” Brigid said, sounding skeptical. “He uses some kind of spell that freezes me into place, keeps me from overpowering him and fleeing. He is not a warrior, and I have trained to be, so I should be able to best him. But I cannot get near him.”

“Great.” Of course it couldn’t be that easy, could it? “Will this spell freeze me too?”

“I do not know. You are not Fae, and he might not know you are here.”

Kenzie drew a breath. “Well, we’ll have to take our chances. If I can pin him fast enough and tear out his throat, that will probably cancel any spell he has on you.”

“I am willing to try,” Brigid said, giving her a solemn nod.

“Then we’ll get the hell out of here. Sound like a plan?”

Brigid’s brows drew together. “Why would that not sound like a plan? It is a plan.”

Kenzie grinned. “It’s our way of saying Is it a good plan?”

“Better than rotting here.” Brigid wrinkled her nose. “This world stinks.”

“I’ll drink to that.”

Brigid looked wistful again. “Aye, a good flagon of mead would go down well. We shall overcome this man and raise a glass.”

“Kick his ass and go out for pizza.” Kenzie laughed at Brigid’s bewildered expression. “Means the same thing.”

“Then that is what we shall do.” Brigid settled herself on a damp, fallen log. “Now we wait.”

“Yeah,” Kenzie said, letting out a breath. “We wait.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Gil led Bowman to the mountain trail where Kenzie had disappeared. “There,” he said, pointing down the hill. “But it doesn’t mean you can get to her.”

Bowman didn’t bother arguing. He signaled to his trackers to start searching.

A few hours later, Bowman’s hope was dying. Kenzie was nowhere, and the mists were dispersing with the coming morning.