A Strange Hymn by Laura Thalassa

Chapter 7

Karnon is not their father.

Karnon is not their father.

But … how?

He was the one imprisoning those women. He was the one sexually assaulting them.

Beside me, Des begins walking again, like this revelation doesn’t change everything.

That’s when I realize—

“You knew,” I accuse him as we head down his palace halls.

Rather than appearing surprised or guilty or ashamed by my accusation—rather than any of those normal responses—Des appraises me with one of his typical devil-may-care looks.

He lifts a shoulder. “So what if I did?”

So what if I … ?

I slap a palm to his sculpted chest and halt him in the middle of the hall. “Oh no, amigo, our relationship doesn’t work like that.”

He glances down at my hand, and I can tell I’m getting close to riling up the King of Night.

“Our relationship doesn’t work like what precisely, cherub?” he asks, his gaze going shrewd.

“You can’t just keep secrets like that from me.”

He has the audacity to look amused, though it doesn’t reach his eyes. “I assure you, I can.”

My eyes slit. “Des,” I warn.

He removes my hand from his chest. “Is that supposed to be a threatening tone?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He clucks his tongue and brings my hand up to his mouth. “Because if it is,” he continues, “then you’ve got to work on your intimidation game,” he continues. “I mean, you gave it a decent try, but I’m more turned on than anything else.”

Des proceeds to kiss the tips of my fingers, which is totally distracting. Who knew fingertip kisses were even a thing? Because they so are. I’m declaring it here and now.

Focus, Callie.

“Let me show you something,” he says softly.

So much for focusing. Rather than picking up our argument where we left off, I let Des lead me through his palace. We eventually enter what looks like a grand library, the arches of it inlaid with decorative tile. Between several bronze chandeliers hang a myriad of colorful lamps. And that’s not even mentioning the books.

Shelves and shelves of them line the walls and fill aisles of the room, each one bound in cloth or leather. There are also heaps of scrolls stacked along the shelves, the handles they’re wound around made of carved wood and bone, some even inlaid with mother of pearl and semi-precious stones.

I spend a solid minute turning in a circle and taking the whole place in.

“Wow,” I finally say.

It smells like leather and paper and something else that I’d say was cedar, but who knows. I have the urge to walk up to each shelf and pull out the books and scrolls one by one, letting my hands trail over the dried ink and soft paper. This place feels like magic and wisdom, and I might be having a spiritual experience right now.

I can feel Des’s eyes on my face. Eventually he peels his gaze away to take in the place as well.

“Is this the royal library?” I ask.

The corner of Des’s mouth curves upwards. “One of them.”

“One of them?” I repeat dumbly.

“This one is where many of the realm’s official documents are kept. The main library is on the eastern grounds of the palace.”

I can’t wrap my mind around the sheer magnitude of that.

He leads me to a table, and one of the chairs magically slides out for me. Des takes a seat across from me, and for a second he just appraises me. When he looks at me like that, I feel acutely exposed.

“What?” I finally say, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear.

He gives me a soft smile. “My mother would have loved you.”

Just saying those words, he’s invited ghosts into this place. I barely remember my own mother, and I don’t have any memories of her being especially loving to me. It’s a beautiful gift to imagine that Des’s mother might’ve loved me.

“You think so?” I finally say.

“I know so.” He says it so steadfastly that my one objection—that I’m human—dies before it ever leaves my lips.

Before I can ask more on the subject, Des lifts his hand and flicks his wrist. Off in the distance, I hear the sound of paper sliding against paper.

A scroll rises above the aisles and floats towards us. The Bargainer’s hand is still in the air, and the scroll lands softly in his open palm.

“This is the report taken from the victims that recovered from their imprisonment,” Des says, changing the subject. He places the scroll on the table.

I get up and drag my chair closer to him.

“These were taken from the survivors of Karnon’s prison?” I ask.

“Just the Night fae survivors,” Des says. “The other kingdoms are recording the interviews of their victims. At the next summit our kingdoms hold, we’ll compare notes, but until then, we only have my subjects’ testimonies.”

I know without looking that I’m one of those testimonies. It was optional (perks of being mates to a king), but I did it anyway. I’ve worked enough cases to know how helpful testimonies can be.

“Why did you want me to see this?” I ask, lifting the edge of the parchment between us. I catch a glimpse of my name, and my stomach dips a little.

Des had been in the room when I gave my testimony, so he knows what happened to me, but seeing it written out next to all the other victims still makes me squirm.

“You went to the nursery to determine whether Karnon was those children’s father.”

Des slides the parchment over to me. “I thought you might like to read what the other prisoners had to say about their experience.”

His words sound almost like a challenge, and I eye him a bit circumspectly before I glance down at the scroll.

My eyes travel over the paragraphs written in elegant scrawl. I skip over my own testimony, focusing on the other women who escaped.

One by one I read about nine different fae soldiers, each who’d been kidnapped in her sleep. Each had languished in Karnon’s prison between one and eight days.

Apparently, they, like me, were able to recover from a week’s worth of the Fauna king’s black magic. Those who were captives for longer than eight days … they now lived far below us in glass caskets.

The more I read, the more I feel Callie the PI surge back to life. I’ve missed this—digging into cases, solving problems.

It takes me only a little longer to stumble across what Des must’ve wanted me to.

I tear my gaze away from the scroll. “All but two were sexually assaulted by Karnon,” I say.

The two who escaped that fate hadn’t been sexually assaulted at all. This wasn’t due to the Fauna king having a change of heart; they just happened to be the two most recently abducted women. Karnon hadn’t had enough time to incapacitate them with his magic. He liked violating women when they couldn’t fight back.

Des nods. “And?” he probes.

I return my attention to the parchment. It takes only seconds for the rest of the pieces to fall into place.

“And all but two confirmed they were pregnant,” I say.

Seven women raped solely by Karnon, seven women end up pregnant.

I meets Des’s gaze. “So Karnon is the casket children’s father?”

Des leans back in his seat, his legs splayed out. One leg jiggles restlessly. “So it seems.”

I want to pull my hair out.

None of this makes sense.

“But I thought …” I thought Des believed that Karnon wasn’t the father.

Before I can finish the thought, someone knocks on the library’s doors.

Des waves away the scroll, and it floats back onto the shelves. Another flick of his hand and the library doors open.

In saunters Malaki, looking just as rakish as usual. He bows to the both of us, then straightens, focusing his attention on Des.

“Sorry to interrupt,” he says by way of greeting, “but duty calls.”

Des straightens in his seat. “What’s on the docket?”

“There are Borderland issues to deal with, two fairies you’ll be honoring with war cuffs and brunch—oh, and a Solstice invite you need to respond to.”

I’m already beginning to stand. I really need to figure out what I should do with my free time now that I’m marooned in the Otherworld.

“Wait,” Des says to me.

I turn to look at him.

“Would you like to join me?”

After what I saw yesterday in his throne room?

I shake my head. “Have fun.”

I head out of the room, leaving the King of the Night and his oldest friend to run the realm without me.