Aksel found himself descending the perfectly polished marble stairs toward the dining room despite his mood.

He had received a note from Suri stating a peremptory appeal for his presence at dinner tonight, so, here he was. Not that he would have neglected his duties toward their host. Aksel had thought to pay his respects to the High Lord later, though, after a solitary and quiet dinner in the privacy of his room.

These mundane occasions always resulted painstakingly suffocating to him, with so many people inquiring after his parents plans for their Court, or asking about the striking innovations in integration policies. The truth was none of them truly cared about humans or how they fared in the territory of Prythian, nor about the efforts his family had put into the improvement of Fae-human relations.

At least tonight Aksel didn't have to oblige those kind of interlocutors; Tamlin was a polite—well, almost—but generally quiet companion, and since he hadn't seen other guests around the manor Aksel supposed he could consider himself rather fortunate.

Suri had probably meant to irritate him with that note; she knew how much he hated sitting at a table doing idle chit-chat.

The worst was that he was very good at it. If he wanted, Aksel could lead a pleasant and amiable conversation with almost anyone thanks to his natural ease with every sort of topic and his mild way of expressing opinions—the exact opposite of Suri.

That was his gift—and his curse.

His being a soothing and enjoyable presence often bought him an invitation from his mother or aunt Mor to their events, especially when his sister was included. It created a sort of balance, but also a constant confrontation he never won. Suri could be rude and excessive, though she always managed to prevail on other people, by seducing or conquering them. Aksel, on the other hand, lacked both the talent and the strength. He could be charming and clever all he wanted, but Suri was the one everybody turned to in critical moments, the one they looked at as the future leader of the Night Court.

Aksel had always envied her charisma. He envied the ease with which she gained their father's approval—without so much as trying—when he had to struggle so hard to get a proud look from him.

It wasn't something either of them should be blamed for, and he knew that. Still, he couldn't help feeling he had somehow to defeat her. To prove himself better, valuable. Not because he sought out favor from his Court, not to live up to his family's reputation; Aksel didn't care much about those things—about titles and power.

A small but clear voice inside him told it was only a selfish need of acknowledgment. But then—why should he not be allowed to be selfish once in a while. He just wanted respect and acceptance from those he loved the most, his sister included; because he cared for her more than she thought, even if he didn't know how to show it.

Yet still, maybe, this insane competition abiding in his mind was just ruining the relationship with Suri, keeping them from forming a real bond. Their only interactions outside official meetings consisted of squabbles like the one they'd had earlier.

Aksel had claimed she looked ridiculous in that dress, but it had been an outright lie dictated by the moment's bewilderment. She was actually beautiful, stunning. Only a blind man would not see the fiery dignity with which Suri held herself and the innate penchant for making everyone freeze before her military bearing—no matter what she was wearing.

The fact was that Aksel had been discomfited by the sight of so many inches of her exposed skin when he was used to seeing her almost completely covered in her black suit—not that that was something one might call chaste, with the leather fitting so tightly around her honed limbs. But right there, in the garden of the manor, it had all seemed awkward and Aksel had reacted taunting her.

Maybe he was just annoyed by her carelessness. He would never allow himself such an easy abandonment to emotions. Maybe it was just another thing he envied her.

Aksel touched distractedly his fingers to the side of his face.

Nonsense. His ears were perfectly normal.

Aksel wasn't entirely wrong anyway. Suri should be more careful around Keran and his father. Of all places, the Spring Court wasn't the one where she could let down her guard. It was true that Tamlin and their parents had worked together all these years to rebuild Prythian as a peaceful and prosperous land where faeries and humans could live freely side by side, but Aksel didn't trust the High Lord of the Spring Court completely. If only because Aksel was invariably reminded of the fact that the past can hardly be left behind for good.

Aksel didn't trust any of the High Lords actually.

Most of them were deceitful and greedy, waiting for a shift in the currents of power to get a leading role in Prythian; all of them were leery, and thus untrustworthy.

Aksel had spent the better part of the last years learning their secrets, their aims, their weaknesses. It was part of his job as vice Spymaster, but Aksel had also gathered not essential information that could turn useful in the future—sometimes by questionable means. Despite uncle Azriel's opinion, Aksel left his moral reserves aside when it came to the safety of his home and family.

Now he was here, in the house of the High Lord he distrusted the most—and was most distrusted from; not that there was a legitimate reason to doubt him—there was nothing odd about Tamlin apparently—but they were instinctively wary of one another because of the strange connection they shared.

The grand double doors to the dining room were open when Aksel made his entrance. The saccharine scent of tender buds reached his nose wafting over the elegantly set table, with its creamy porcelains and glossy silverware, its exquisite lace embroidered tablecloth and cushioned velvet chairs.

Five seats arranged. All still empty.

Aksel was the first to show up evidently.

Only five though. He had noticed the scarce presence of staff around the halls on his way down, and expected anything but a feast; however five seats only meant Aksel and Suri were probably the only guests. Furthermore, it didn't escape Aksel that the servants kept well away from the dining room.

The urgency seeping through Suri's note suddenly struck him like a warning of something amiss, adding up to the general atmosphere of secrecy.

"Welcome to our home, Lord Aksel."

The balmy voice came from behind his back, the hint of a welcoming smile in it. Aksel turned toward the door and found a bewitching red-haired woman standing on the threshold with her long and slender arms gracefully floating above her flanks. Aksel met her amber gaze, and bowed slightly as he answered, "Thank you, Lady Aileen. It is a pleasure to be honored with such a gracious host as yourself."

A soft, crackling laugh escaped her full lips.

"And I am beyond thrilled to have you here again. I'm always delighted to have guests, but I must confess your company is a rare entertainment. I hope to get a chance to discuss my last reading later. I suspect you would judge it shamefully frivolous, but I'd like to know your impression."

"I'd be more than happy to indulge you."

"Well," she sighed with mild displeasure. "I fear you won't look so eager after meeting my husband. Anyway, try not to let Tamlin infect your good spirits with his moodiness."

Aksel gave her a knowing smirk. "I'll do my best."

As if by speaking his name they had conjured him, the High Lord appeared at his wife's side with nothing but a tremulous rip in the air.

The look of half hidden scorn that he cast in Aksel's direction quickly disappeared as Tamlin posed his gaze on Lady Aileen, and a beaming smile transformed his stern features altogether. He brushed her forehead with a gentle kiss and twisted his head to face Aksel, arm still wrapped around his wife's shoulders.

To anyone it would simply look as a loving husband not willing to depart from his woman's embrace; Aksel, though, knew that unusually intimate gesture as an attempt of the High Lord to steady himself as he spoke, "Lord Aksel, are you already enjoying the company of my wife?"

Tamlin's eyes flashed briefly with anger before turning a darker shade of green, but Aksel was spared thanks to Lady Aileen's intrusion.

"My dear, there's no need to make our guest uncomfortable. I was actually pestering him, and he has been so kind as to comply with my desires."

"That being—if I may ask," Tamlin rumbled.

Lady Aileen spontaneously slid her arm around his waist and answered amused, "Sophisticated and stimulating conversation. The kind my husband is too busy for these days."

The High Lord's expression went suddenly dull at this.

"You're rightfully outraged, and I fear I must disappoint you once more." Tamlin eventually found the strength to break up contact with his wife and turned to Aksel with grim determination as he explained, "I've asked you to come tonight to discuss a delicate matter that has required my complete commitment lately. Why don't we take a seat while we wait for your sister and my son to join us?"

"Wonderful idea." Lady Aileen started forward, gesturing toward the table. "Will you seat beside me Lord Aksel?"

Aksel bowed his head politely and took the second chair on the right side of the High Lord, leaving the one closer to the head of the table to Lady Aileen.

In the next few minutes, neither Tamlin nor Aksel made a true effort to keep up the conversation, only nodding at Lady Aileen's comments about the preparations for the upcoming Calanmai festivities. Aksel chose to keep quiet, curious about what this whole situation requiring the utmost confidentiality might be; still, he threw a glance at Tamlin now and then, who showed no sign of annoyance at the mention of the occasion on which both of Aksel's parents would visit the Spring Court to perform the Great Rite like every other High Lord of Prythian.

Providentially Suri and Keran appeared before the thing turned too awkward.

Suri was wearing her leathers tonight.

She always looked startling in her black suit—as perfect as she had been chiseled out of marble. Even without weapons strapped to her sides, her tall and well-built figure appeared menacing.

Keran took the seat to his father's left, followed by Suri who sat right in front of Aksel.

Aksel became instantly aware of the striking resemblance between Keran and his parents as soon as the light from the glowing chandelier above melted the coppery strands of the hair he had acquired from his mother and flooded the greenish pools mirroring his father's eyes.

It made him think of his own parents, and how different Aksel looked from them. He got the colors of his aunt Elain instead—sandy hair and brown eyes.

As a kid Aksel used to think he was too plain, too ordinary. Nothing like his sister's flowing black mane sparkling like a raven's feathers, or the piercing blue stare of her deep-set eyes which could make bigger men writhe in fear.

He wasn't as imposing as his father, or regal as his mother. But Aksel had learned to enjoy passing unobserved; sometimes he could even turn to his advantage the fact that others underestimated him.

"Now that we're all present I can start sharing my burden."

The double doors closed by themselves with a click, as if moving on a phantom wind.

The four people flanking the High Lord focused their attention on him, waiting with apprehension for his next words.

Aksel had the distinct feeling that Tamlin was being overdramatic, but a look at Suri's serious grimace told him to be alert.

"First of all, I want to remark the importance that this conversation is not made public." Tamlin halted barely enough for them to nod their agreement before resuming his speech. "Only the High Lords and their most trusted advisors are privy to this sensitive information, for now. A leak could cause unimaginable disorders."

Aksel was growing restless and baffled.

"Three days ago, a little farm on the southern border has been found empty, apparently abandoned with everything still in its place. No trace of the former human inhabitants. And it's not the first time."

Tamlin paused to release a weary breath.

"People have been disappearing for months—human people specifically. Sometimes it's a lonely traveler who never makes it to destination, others are whole families who go missing from their homes, like now. Not just here, but in other Courts too."

"You didn't want to start a revolt on large scale by letting humans know they're possibly in danger," Lady Aileen mused. "However, something has changed."

Tamlin dipped his head grimly, confirming her assumption. She looked truly in the dark about this story. And showed no aversion toward her husband who had kept her so.

"These past decades I've done anything in my power to make sure humans could live safe and free on my lands, though there have been... incidents."

The word sent a crawling shiver up Aksel's arms.

It wasn't new to any Court; they had all witnessed the atrocities inflicted to humans by the Fae race.

"This time started with occasional episodes, but they've grown increasingly more frequent—and deliberate. That's because I've asked your mother for help," Tamlin said, passing his gaze from Aksel to Suri.

And why the hell had his mother sent him in here blindfolded just to let him be lectured by Tamlin?

Aksel studied the oval of his sister's face as she went a shade paler. After a few uncomfortable seconds he shifted in his seat and said, "Of course we'll help as best as we can. You'd have surely glamoured anyone related to the missing family and the sentries involved in the discovery. You've probably done this for the other victims too. I don't suppose there's much more evidence left to find except what you already gathered. What do you expect from us that you yourself couldn't succeed to accomplish?"

The High Lord emitted a low warning snarl; he didn't like to be fooled.

Lady Aileen materialized some trays with a snap of her long fingers, and started piling food on her husband's plate cutting through his line of sight. She had a subtle way to divert his anger and manipulate his moods that Aksel found superb and alluring—even inspiring.

Lady Aileen stood back in her chair then, and the discussion resumed with moderation on both parts.

"Your surmise is right," affirmed Tamlin. "All the leads have gone cold—then again, something has changed."

He leaned back slowly, enjoying the expectant look on Aksel's face.

"The felons have left a proof of their transgression this time. Five bodies. The missing family I mentioned."

None of them dared so much as break the silence with a question to which they feared the answer.

Aksel didn't want to appear as an impatient child but he couldn't stand it another moment. How could he not know any of this? His spies were second only to uncle Azriel's, and still not a whisper had reached his ears; this must be something serious if the High Lords—his parents included—had gone so far as to obliterate every trail.

"We need details to work on, so why don't you stop building suspense and start filling us in on the case?"

The High Lord put on an accommodating expression and offered, "Where do you want me to start from?"

"The crime scene," said Aksel. "Tell me about it."

Tamlin's forehead creased as if he was striving to remember every detail, the effort soon concealed by revulsion.

"All the bodies were found piled under a tree, dismembered to point of preventing distinction of one limb from the other. No hearts were found; either they had been carried away or eaten I've no idea."

Aksel glimpsed the rare meat cooling down on the tray before him, and a thick sense of nausea gripped his esophagus as the sight evoked the picture of fuming corpses in the chilly air of the night.

"Has this happened before?" Aksel asked, shacking away the macabre thoughts forming in his head.

"No," Tamlin conceded. "This is the first time."

His tone let an implication transpire, though.

Lady Aileen was already taking the hint as she was the first to ask, "You think this episode is somehow connected to the others?"

"I'm strongly convinced, yes."

Aksel couldn't follow him anymore.

"What kind of proof do we have that this carnage has anything to do with the previous disappearances? They could be unrelated. This one sounds more like a martax's doing."

"But why would a martax take the pain to move the bodies elsewhere before shredding them to pieces?" chimed in Keran who had been silently staring at his empty tumbler until now. "Plus, I've never heard of a martax collecting human hearts."

Aksel spared another look at his sister, seemingly more appalled than before, and unable to speak.

"Then you were on the scene too. And why are you assuming the victims were killed somewhere else and then moved?"

"There's more," interjected Tamlin. "I've picked up a scent on the victims' remains, the same scent lingering on their property. It was almost undetectable, I'd not have smelled it hadn't I known to look for it. We think they were poisoned and dragged away from the farm unconscious, or dead."

Aksel took a minute to absorb everything, then asked, "You mean you've smelled it before, on other sites where people went missing. What made you suspect the responsible was the same?"

"Just an intuition."

"Alright." Aksel grabbed the edge of the table anchoring himself. "Let's take the stock of the situation, if you will."

"Mortals living in Prythian have been targeted by someone or something clever enough to not leave traces. The High Lords—and High Lady—have unanimously agreed to keep this secret for peace's sake while they search for the guilty."

"Now you reckon whoever did this has gone too far and want help to stop the murderer at once. However, there's no other clue except an unusual scent presumably belonging to the killer. Well, where does this trail lead?"

"Nowhere actually; it's too weak to be followed. Anyway, the question I've been making myself is why would someone want to make it look like a martax, why not simply get rid of the corpses like they did in the past?"

"We're assuming there's a they now."

"Exactly," declared Tamlin. "The other High Lords and I didn't want much clamor about this, hence we looked into the matter separately. Each of us has reached the same conclusion nonetheless: this is not the work of a lesser creature. It appears clear that the responsible is someone with skills and resources, one of the High Fae—more likely a group of them."

"They may belong to different Courts and cooperate for some political agenda," added Keran.

"Ah... That's where I come in," Aksel pondered. "If a large number of High Fae has been gathering repeatedly these past months my spies should have knowledge of it."

"Not necessarily. Not if they used official meetings as cover-ups. The reason I'm asking your help is that I'm desperate and I can't trust anyone else. Things are serious; we're jumping at our throats, each High Lord with a different approach to solve this mess. And while we point the finger to one another, these people are acting behind our backs, maybe they're even fueling the conflicts to divert our attention."

The angry growl forced through Tamlin's vocal cords reverberated in the room rattling the crystal chandelier as well as Aksel's bones.

Of course they would blame each other, Aksel thought. It was easy attributing the disappearances to the High Lords or powerful nobles who were against the coexistence of Fae and humans. Some of the Fae still thought they had rights over humans, and pressed to legitimate the slavery again, even if under a different word.

The proposal of indenturing those who were willing to serve the Fae under a shamefully deceitful contract had been obstructed by the Courts of Night, Summer and Spring for decades, but other Courts were inclined to consider it. The Autumn Court was the major supporter of the reform, followed by Day and Dawn. The Winter Court remained neutral in the discussion. Besides, the Night Court was internally divided, and the Inner Circle still struggled against the dissent of the Court of Nightmares.

If the responsibles of these crimes against mortals were truly High Fae, they would certainly use the frail equilibrium of Prythian as leverage.

"At this point I'll take any advice and support that comes my way," continued Tamlin. "There's no one I can trust more than you and your sister with this."

The last words came out strained but it was a genuine plea for aid nonetheless.

Aksel beheld the High Lord without actually seeing him, his mind already propelled toward the task at hand.

"As I said, you can count on us—both of us."

Aksel cast a significant look at Suri who just nodded, blinking away her misery. He needed to assure himself that she remained focused, above all if the vague plan dawning on him right now would bring him far from his sister.

"There are too many open questions and too little time to answer them," began Aksel. "I have an idea that might help us exploit the only certain evidence we have; I'll have to visit the Dawn Court to retrieve what we need though. Meanwhile I'll keep eyes and ears open, should something out of the ordinary come up. Suri can stay and see if she can find other leads or witnesses of the crime."

Everyone was staring at him, as Aksel became aware of when he focused again on the people surrounding him.

"You want to leave?" asked Suri with voice veiled by betrayal. "To what end?"

Aksel tried to sound convincing, even to himself. "It's a hazard but, seen the circumstances, it's worth the try. I promise I'll be back as soon as possible."

Suri stood with a rasping of wood on marble and strolled out of the room, leaving in her wake the echo of furious steps.

Keran followed her after a moment's hesitation without so much as a word.

Aksel faced the only two people left at the table.

Lady Aileen remained taciturn, although Aksel could sense the river of thoughts raging behind her mental shields, her cunning eyes poised on him while she eased the tension in her husband's frame with the slightest graze of her hand.

The High Lord clenched and unclenched his fists repeatedly for several seconds. His knuckles whitened but his skin remained intact.

"Are you sure of what you're doing? Looks like your sister barely holds it together."

It made Aksel see red.

He let long claws split the pale skin of his hands and plunged them into the wood of the table shredding the cloth covering it.

The eyes of the High Lord went near murderous at the sight of them—of his claws.

"Suri can handle herself quite well," Aksel roared. "So can I."

Let Tamlin think what he wanted, that they were all petty usurpers; his father had taken his woman, his sister had his son's testicles in her grip, and Aksel had unjustly inherited the very power Tamlin had once gifted his mother with.

Let him hate them.

He still needed their help.

"I'll see you when I'm back."

And with this Aksel took his leave.