“Sorry there, Pops,” he muttered. “Plant it right there.”
The king heaved a sigh, then shook his head a little before assuming his seat and peering out at all of us, waiting for us to begin. When none of us immediately spoke up, he inclined his head toward Nicky. “My apologies to you in particular, Mr. Blue. You are a guest in my home, a friend now by virtue of your assistance. Please, tell me what it is you wish to know.”
Nicky scooted to the edge of his chair, his demeanor suddenly changing. He was in business mode now, ready to parley with an associate. He offered the king a smile that was charming, but there was something dark about the edges—something deadly and determined. This must be the Nicky that people who knew and feared him had always seen. It certainly wasn’t the tender, caring, loving man I knew so intimately now.
“Gideon told us that you have a little problem with someone selling D on the black market and trying to implicate your operation,” Nicky said.
The king inclined his head. “This is true. Gideon was sent to gather intelligence to help identify those involved. When I am satisfied that I have the facts, I shall handle it. And swiftly.” The king smiled, but there was no mirth in his eyes. I had a pretty good idea of just how he planned to go about taking care of the dealers who were interfering with his business.
“I have no doubt of that,” Nicky told him. “I respect you and honor your decision. But may I ask, as a friend, why you refuse to let the FMA get involved?”
The king shifted, casting a meaningful glance my way.
“I quit this morning,” I told him. “You can speak freely, sir.”
He clasped his hands over his stomach, then looked at his younger daughter and her fiancé. “Poppy, why don’t you take Mr. Squiggington to the gardens? I imagine he could use some fresh air. Good for the constitution.”
Poppy obediently hopped to her feet and dragged J.G. from the room, shutting the door behind her. As soon as she was gone the king sighed. “Poppy’s a good girl,” he mused. “I hope that little shit will make her happy. He seems to love her, so I grant him leeway. But he is still a bit off from his experiences. I would rather not have him present when we discuss these things. I hope I do not offend.”
Nicky shook his head. “That’s your prerogative, sir. I defer to you in that matter.”
The king chuckled. “I like you, Mr. Blue. You understand respect and honor. This is why I will tell you what I know.”
Nicky spread his hands in gratitude. “Thank you, sir. I hope I prove to be worthy of your praise.”
The king rose from his chair and strolled to a liquor cabinet. “Do any of you care for a drink?” Not waiting for an answer, he poured out four snifters of brandy and handed one to Seth, Nicky, and me, then filled a tumbler with sparkling water and gave it to Lavender, pausing to press an adoring kiss to the top of her head before lifting his own glass. “Sláinte chuig na fír, agus go mairfidh na mná go deo.”
I glanced to Lavender for the translation and saw her grinning fondly at her father. “Health to the men, and may the women live forever.”
He patted her cheek. “Lovely girl.” His expression then grew solemn again as he perched casually on the corner of his desk. “I have no doubt that the Agency is behind the black market distribution of fairy dust. I know that Tim Halloran was in discussions with them but, although he was an annoyance, he was hardly a threat to my operations. The Agency, on the other hand, is a formidable force. That being said, I refuse to go to the FMA about it because I believe the organization has been compromised.”
I blinked at him in amazement. “Compromised? What do you mean? Someone in the FMA is dirty?”
“Exactly so.”
“Do you know who it is?” Seth asked.
“Not yet,” the king admitted. “That is what Gideon was trying to uncover. We know that those Tales who were installed with the Agency to be liaisons are working against their own brethren—”
I immediately thought of Freddy the Ferret and his pals and had no doubt of the king’s assessment.
“—but I believe there are those within the FMA who are also working against us.”
“Why do you think so, sir?” I asked.
He took a sip of his brandy and hissed a little as it went down. “Al Addin has been very cozy with the Agency in recent years. There once was a time when he would stand up for us, fight for our right to exist without the Ordinaries’ interference, but he is being worn down, persuaded that it is not to our detriment to go along with the Agency, grant them access to us, to our secrets.”
“You can’t possibly believe that Al has betrayed us, can you?” I demanded, my voice edged with anger. For all Al’s faults, I couldn’t believe that he would sell out like that.
“Perhaps the Agency is simply putting a great deal of pressure on him, Dad,” Lavender piped up. “I mean, the times have changed considerably since we came over. It’s growing increasingly difficult for us to stay hidden. The revolution that was brewing in The Refuge was hardly an isolated incident. As you know, there are other groups pushing for the same thing. Perhaps Al is just doing what he has to do to keep us all as safe as possible.”
“I am willing to give him the benefit of the doubt because of the kindness he has shown you over the years, petal,” the king admitted. “But the FMA has a list of all of my distribution centers, my distribution schedule, the transportation routes. They are operated secretly for good reason, but I am required to report all of my activities to the FMA in order to be in compliance with our laws. My transports have been robbed on several occasions in the last two years and I am certain it is this product that is being distributed to the Ordinaries.”
“But why would the Agency want to do that?” I asked. “What do they have to gain?”
“Fairy dust is used as therapy for the most volatile Tales,” the king reminded me. “If my business had to be shut down because I was no longer in compliance, we would have significant problems.”
I thought about the repercussions of a sudden shortage of fairy dust. Those who took it for “medicinal” reasons would be in a panic from the withdrawal symptoms and would search out any black market source they could find—and who knows what kind of deals they’d make, what they would give up, what secrets they would divulge to the Agency to get it. And I didn’t even want to think about what would happen if fairy dust was no longer available to the population in the Asylum.
“Shit,” I muttered. “What the hell are they trying to do?”
“Break us down,” Seth said, “destroy our unity. The only reason we’ve made it this long without discovery is because we’ve stuck
together—even when we were fighting among ourselves.”
Nicky nodded. “Get us fighting over the right thing, and they can swoop in and start recruiting.”
“And gathering specimens,” I breathed.
The king’s brows lifted at this. “Specimens?”
I glanced around at everyone before my gaze settled on Nicky. “They’ve been trying to get Al to hand over one of us for a long time. They want to study us, dissect us, figure out what we’re made of, how we’re different. Al has always refused. One of them—Agent Spalding—got to me a little over a year ago and . . .” I paused, wondering what I should divulge. “Well, he tricked me into trusting him so he could try to get information about my ability to read the dead. He didn’t find out what he wanted, though, and I caught a glimpse of what he was up to, so he finally gave up trying. But they almost nabbed Nicky this morning. Al took him into protective custody to keep him safe.”