I’d brought an extra mug for Claude, and I handed it to him. He accepted it silently. I’d considered the possibility he might throw it in my face. His unexpected presence had knocked me off course. I had no idea what to expect. The breeze lifted his long black hair, tossed it around like rippling ebony ribbons. His caramel eyes were red-rimmed.

“How did she die?” he said.

I sat on the top step. “I didn’t see it,” I said, hunching over my knees. “We were in that old building Dr. Ludwig was using as a hospital. I think Claudine was trying to stop the other fairies from coming down the corridor to get into the room where I was holed up with Bill and Eric and Tray.” I looked over at Claude to make sure he knew the place, and he nodded. “I’m pretty sure that it was Breandan who killed her, because one of her knitting needles was stuck in his shoulder when he busted into our room.”

Breandan, my great-grandfather’s enemy, had also been a prince of the fae. Breandan had believed that humans and the fae should not consort. He’d believed that to the point of fanaticism. He’d wanted the fae to completely abstain from their forays into the human world, despite the fae’s large financial stake in mundane commerce and the products it had produced. products that helped them blend into the modern world. Breandan had especially hated the occasional taking of human lovers, a fae indulgence, and he’d hated the children born as a result of such liaisons. He’d wanted the fae separate, walled away into their own world, consorting only with their own kind.

Oddly enough, that’s what my great-grandfather had decided to do after defeating the fairy who believed in this apartheid policy. After all the bloodshed, Niall concluded that peace among the fae and safety for humans could be reached only if the fae blocked themselves into their world. Breandan had achieved his ends by his own death. In my worst moments, I thought that Niall’s final decision had made the whole war unnecessary.