Page 102 of The Filigree Key

A slew of protests rose from the breakfast table, Cody loudest of all, but they were quickly silenced when the Stag Man lowered his face to mine, caging me with his antlers.

“I warned you not to displease me,” he said. “And if it weren’t for your ridiculous rituals, I’d take you on this cold hard floor in front of your friends and that insufferable bear then drag you to that portal by your hair.”

“What charming pillow talk,” I snarled up at him. So much for limiting animosity.

Faebane slid in another inch and the grizzly bear roared.

“Please, Ossian, stop!”

The fae king glared down at me until I looked away. Down at my toes, my hands clasped in front of me. Submissive.

A warning growl was his final word before he returned to his throne. There, a large citrine on his necklace sparkled yellow, and Ossian used its magic to amplify his voice. He made a sound I’d never heard him make before—the bugle of a bull elk.

Everyone in the great hall clapped their hands over their ears at the terrifying sound; the bear moaned, too pained to move.

A moment later, there was a noise at the double doors like someone knocking, then a doe shouldered open the doors. Behind her a line of wild animals formed: deer, chipmunks, snakes, cottontail rabbits, wild turkeys, skinks, skunks, hundreds of birds, thousands of field mice. As if in a trance, they formed a line and approached the throne, more queuing up every second.

And it wasn’t just the herbivores and low-tier carnivores who answered the summons.

Coyotes stalked into the great hall. From wherever they’d been banished or imprisoned, they came in droves. Every dog, too, including Mayor Robert’s darling spaniel Peaches, but many more of them of the livestock guardian breed. In summary: huge, fearless, and powerfully built. There were a handful of red foxes and even a few black bears, though none came close in size to the grizzly chained in the corner.

The Stag Man waved his hand in front of the doe, and her liquid brown eyes turned blue. Her ears pricked, her tail lifted, and she bounded out of the great hall. The skunk who’d followed her did the same after its eyes changed and the massasauga rattlesnake after that.

He was enthralling them all with faelight.

“These will be your eyes and ears, Alec,” the Stag Man said. “And with so many, there will be no place for those insurgents to hide.” Standing, he enthralled the forest creatures en masse.

Hundreds upon hundreds of glowing blue eyes filled the great hall like gnomish lanterns. Hooves and claws and scales clattered and rasped against the stone floor as the whole herd turned to leave the great hall.

Ossian made no move to follow—he wasn’t letting me out of his sight until we were both in Elfame tonight.

Until a particular caliby cat stuck her head through the hole in the bay windows and asked, “Is all that for little ol’ me? Aww, I’m flattered.”

“Ame!” Ossian roared, launching out of his throne.

The cat had just enough time to yank her head back and fling herself away from the window before the glass exploded. Ossian leapt out after her, bellowing another war cry before disappearing from sight.

Alec threw himself against the broken pane, leaning over to confirm for himself that yes, he hadn’t just imagined the Stag Man throwing himself into thin air to chase after a cat. Then he lurched back with a surprised shout as that same cat climbed her way in through the window, pausing on the sill to shake the glass out from in between her toes.

“Ame,” Shari cried happily, emerging out from under the table.

Sawyer trilled, scooping up one more bite of eggs before racing over to his mentor.

“But you,” Alec began.

“You think your master’s the only one who knows how to cast an illusion or two?” Ame snorted.

“Cern—” The Stag Man’s name died on his lips as Flora clobbered him in the back of the head with the cast-iron skillet. The magic hunter dropped face-first to the floor amidst the biscuits without so much as a groan.

Immediately, Cody shoved himself away from the table and I hiked up my partially hemmed skirt to my knees and leapt off the stool. We both hurried over to the grizzly bear.

“Thank you, Flora,” Ame said.

The beaver pressed a webbed paw against the bear’s snout. “I know you, boy,” he murmured. “Milady’ll make it better. Somehow, I know that too.”

“Daphne?” Ame prompted loudly. “The pixies, please.”

The white mare snatched up the birdcage and cantered over to the cat so she could dispel the wards and unhook the latch.