Eight
Tall and slim and dressed entirely in black, the faerie stalks slowly across the room toward Mr. Hart. His hair is white-blonde with black streaks, and his eyes are cold black holes. Rings with multi-colored gems glitter on his fingers, and silver spikes protrude from the back of his boots.
Oh crap, crap, crap. Who is this guy? I’m not easily scared, but there’s something about him that freaks me out. I hurriedly shrink the necklace and pop it into one of the hollow balls around my neck. Should I go back to the passage to find Ryn? Should I stay here?
“Start explaining,” the faerie says. “Now. What is all this magical junk doing in a human home? Who gave it to you?”
My amber vibrates against my thigh, and I quickly remove it. Not in passage anymore. Antique wardrobe next to shelf
