“Who from?”

“Niall.”

“How’s that possible? I understood the fae world was shut off now.”

“He has his ways,” Claude said evasively. “He’s the only prince now, and very powerful.”

He has his ways. “Humph,” I said. “Okay, let’s see it.”

Claude pulled an envelope out of his overnight bag. It was buff-colored and sealed with a blue blob of wax. In the wax was imprinted a bird, its wings spread in flight.

“So there’s a fairy mailbox,” I said. “And you can send and receive letters?”

“This letter, anyway.”

Fae were very good at evasion. I huffed out a breath of exasperation.

I got a knife and slid it under the seal. The paper I extracted from the envelope had a very curious texture.

“Dearest great-granddaughter,” it began. “There are things I didn’t get to say to you and many things I didn’t get to do for you before my plans collapsed in the war.”

Okay.

“This letter is written on the skin of one of the water sprites who drowned your parents.”

“Ick!” I cried, and dropped the letter on the kitchen table.

Claude was by my side in a flash. “What’s wrong?” he asked, looking around the kitchen as if he expected to see a troll pop up.

“This is skin! Skin!”

“What else would Niall write on?” He looked genuinely taken aback.

“Ewww!” Even to myself, I sounded a little too girly-girly. But honestly. skin?

“It’s clean,” Claude said, clearly hoping that would solve my problem. “It’s been processed.”

I gritted my teeth and reached down for my great-grandfather’s letter. I took a deep, steadying breath. Actually, the. material hardly smelled at all. Smothering a desire to put on oven mitts, I made myself focus on reading.

“Before I left your world, I made sure one of my human agents talked to several people who can help you evade the scrutiny of the human government. When I sold the pharmaceutical company we owned, I used much of my profit to ensure your freedom.”