Ronan Mac Nevin was frantic. And it wasn’t a feeling to which he was accustomed.

Elizabeth wasn’t in the hallway. She wasn’t in the courtyard. She wasn’t in his bedroom.

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian asked when Ronan came upon him and Sylvie sitting in the dining hall.

“I can’t find my wife,” he murmured, scanning the large room.

“What do you mean?” Sylvie, who had been lounging in her chair, sat up straight.

Ronan shot her an annoyed glance. “She’s missing.”

“Stop. You’re giving us too many details,” Sebastian said dryly. He stood and looked into the Knight’s eyes. “What happened in there? Is Foley. . . gone?”

Ronan nodded, swallowing. He burned to know what Elizabeth had seen inside the shokushu’s mind, but unless he found her, he wouldn’t find out. He needed to locate her quickly. Maeve had dispatched him to retrieve her from the hall and the Queen didn’t like to wait. If Beth was going to escape this without punishment she needed to return, sooner rather than later.

“He’s gone,” he told Sebastian. “Whatever he was hiding … Elizabeth was quite distraught. She asked for a moment in the hall to regain her composure and Maeve granted it. When I went to get her. . . “

Worry flashed across the healer’s face but it was quickly replaced with a confident smile. “We’ll help you find her.”

“Did you check your room?” Sylvie asked, getting to her feet.

Ronan nodded. “And the courtyard.”

“What about your ring?” Sebastian asked, eyes moving to the silver encircling Ronan’s finger.

How had he forgotten about the ring? He brought the azurite and amethyst to his lips and muttered an urgent, “Find her.”

The ring jumped to attention, buzzing warmly against his skin. It pulsed in time with what must be his heartbeat; uncharacteristically rapid. Ronan held out his hand and the ring began to tug ever so slightly north.

“This way,” he told his friends over his shoulder.

They ended up in a lesser-used part of the castle, at the base of a tower that had, a century ago, belonged to Sylvie’s father.

“Wow,” said the selkie. “She really wanted to hide.”

“We going up?” Sebastian asked, gazing at the daunting steepness of a spiral staircase.

Ronan pressed his lips together and focused on the ring. “No,” he finally said. “It’s leading me…” He turned, eyes searching until he found a door to his right. He strode toward it and pulled it open.

It was an empty broom closet. Nothing more. He exhaled in disappointment.

“Does it lead you right to her? Or does it have you follow her path?” Sebastian asked, inspecting the small room.

Ronan pondered that for a moment. “I suppose it follows her path. When the nymphs took her it led us in a circle before taking us to the forest, remember? It wasn’t the fastest route to her, but the route that they had taken.”

“But this is a broom closet,” Sylvie pointed out. “It isn’t a route to anywhere. It’s a dead end.”

“Unless…” Sebastian locked eyes with Ronan.

“Unless she somehow created a rift.” Ronan groaned, remembering the night of their wedding. “And she’s done it before. She’s in the Hedge, she must be.”

“What could she have seen in that stupid octopus’s head that would have her running for the Hedge?” Sylvie asked, jogging to keep up with Ronan and Sebastian who were already booking it toward the portal to the Glen, which was outside and some ways away from the castle.

“Gods know,” Ronan muttered, dread eclipsing him. “Any number of things.”

The admission had the Selkie narrowing her eyes suspiciously. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“This chase could take some time,” interjected Sebastian. “What are you going to do about Maeve? Isn’t she waiting on you right now?”

Ronan glanced sideways at Sylvie.

“No,” she said, scowling. “I’m not doing it! This is just like when we were teenagers and you two would leave me behind to distract her while you went off on adventures!”

“Please?” Sebastian asked because he knew Ronan wouldn’t.

Her lips twitched furiously as she regarded them. They came to a stop at the gate to the Glen. The guards tasked with watching it were shifting uneasily at their presence and glancing at one another. Ronan was hardly concerned with them, however. The castle guard was under Bannan’s command who was under Ronan’s. And nobody liked Maeve anyway. They wouldn’t repeat what they’d heard here, at least not to her.

“What do you need me to do?” She finally conceded on an exhale.

“Stall her,” said Ronan. And then he stepped through the door, Sebastian at his heels.

The Glen was abuzz with patrons. When they had passed through merely an hour ago on their way into the Palace the place had been dead but it seemed they’d come upon happy hour.

Ronan made for the door leading out into the Hedge. It wasn’t a door that was used often, judging by the cobwebs draped from the hinges to the handle. Furthermore, there was a padlock, probably ensuring that no drunk Fae stumbled their way into purgatory when looking for the bathroom.

“Where are you going? Where’s Beth?” Rose had appeared from the raucous crowd, a tray of empty glasses balanced on her hip. In a corset and full skirt she looked every bit the medieval bar wench that drunk Fae enjoyed.

Ronan couldn’t help but count the similarities between the Steward and Elizabeth. There were many, but Rose didn’t quite share Elizabeth’s unique beauty, and it made his chest hurt a little.

“She’s fine,” Ronan lied. Because Rose didn’t need to know that he had lost her niece. His and Rose’s alliance had been shaky enough as it was ever since he’d kidnapped and then married the poor girl, and he needed things with Rose to be very solid.

“We’re just on some official business in the Hedge. For the Queen,” Sebastian supplied, that same excited glint in his eyes as had been there when they were kids, sneaking off to the wastelands or the Drochaid.

Rose was obviously not buying this, but in truth that didn’t matter; she had no say. As Sheriff, Ronan could go where he pleased.

Someone called frantically for her from somewhere in the crowd and she sighed, pulling a rusty key from her apron pocket and tossing it to Ronan.

“She’d better be safe, Mac Nevin.”

He nodded and moments later he and Sebastian were stepping out into the darkened, fetid maze that was the Hedge.

“Well this place is creepy as fuck,” Sebastian murmured, looking around and drawing a sword.

“What did you expect?” asked Ronan before muttering “Find her,” again to his ring and holding out his hand, his own sword gripped in his other.

“I dunno, something more like Hell and less post-apocalyptic.”

“So you’ve been to Hell then?” Ronan took a sharp left and ducked under an archway made of rusted car bumpers twisted together.

“I’m talking about how the media portrays it. Y’know, lava and brimstone, people being flayed left and right. Hitler crying out for forgiveness from the depths of a bottomless pit filled with sodomizing scorpions.”

They jumped in unison as a loud screech sounded from somewhere above them, then picked up their pace substantially.

“But this,” Sebastian continued, “this is like trash island meets China’s air pollution meets Jurassic Park’s predators. How did Beth survive here? Twice? Now, what, three times? If she --”

“She’ll survive this time as well,” said Ronan with certainty.

“You’re awfully confident in our abilities. How many times have you been in here?”

They were interrupted as another screech, closer this time, reverberated across their path. The bird, or whatever it was, dive bombed them.

“Keep your face down!” Ronan called. Just because they lived for a long, long time didn’t mean they couldn’t lose an eye or two.

Ronan pulled his sword and attempted to fight off the creature as they ran. In fact, he was so preoccupied with the winged predator that he didn’t notice the one before them on the ground until it was almost too late.

The hedge beast was so similar to the one from the Drochaid that had nearly killed him that Ronan had to do a double take. This one was different though, in coloring and stature. It was still somewhere between a wolf and a wildcat, but the muscles bulged on this one, veins protruding like it was on steroids. A moment of panic threatened to overtake him but he fought through it, finally managing to skewer the bird-like creature and bring it down just as the four legged beast pounced on Sebastian, knocking him to the ground with a deep snarl.

Ronan tugged his sword free with a bloody, sucking sound and turned toward his friend and the demon on top of him. Sebastian had pulled a small knife and was stabbing the beast, but the frenzied creature barely seemed to notice.

Ronan stabbed it through the throat, having learned long ago that any sort of hesitation could get him or someone else killed. The beast hissed but backed off of Sebastian, not seeming to care that blood now poured down its gunmetal grey coat. Ronan retracted his blade once more, ready to strike again, but the beast surprised him with another pounce that Ronan had assumed the beast was no longer strong enough for.

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Suddenly, Ronan was on his back, with acidic drool and sizzling blood dripping onto his face. Sword still in hand, he brought it up and attempted to slice at the beast’s neck but a massive paw slammed down onto his sword arm, forcing him to release the blade.

He thought that was the end of it but then the creature slumped limply down onto him, its whole weight pressing him harder against the asphalt. He looked up into the determined face of Sebastian, who had taken Ronan’s blade and pushed it through the beast’s heart. Ronan took a deep breath then heaved the heavy mass off of him. He pushed to his feet, panting.

“Good job,” he murmured to his friend as he pulled his sword from between the shoulder blades of the wolf-cat thing.

“Don’t mention it,” Sebastian responded, visibly shaken.

Sebastian fell blessedly silent for a spell as they made their way deeper into the maze. He limped ever so slightly but didn’t seem to think it important enough to stop and heal.

The ring tugged consistently on Ronan’s hand until they found themselves before a door. A plain, metal door with a large keyhole in the center and no knob.

“So have you slept with her yet?”

“Is now really the time for that conversation?” asked Ronan. He checked the perimeter of the door for any secret catches or hidden hinges, but there was nothing. He found the lockpicking kit he kept on his belt and knelt.

“So you have.”

“It’s none of your business, Bash,” said Ronan, using the nickname he had bestowed upon Sebastian when they were younger.

“It is though. Because she’s my friend, and my landlord. She took me in during a time of despair in my life and gave me not just a room but a home. I’m a little protective of her.”

“Really? You didn’t seem upset at her being married off to a stranger.” He listened intently to the tumblers.

“Not a stranger. You. What was I supposed to do? Fight for her honor? I’m not in love with her and you were once my closest friend. Not to mention by the time I knew about the wedding it was already over. Thanks, by the way, for telling me.”

“I wasn’t even aware that you lived there when I took her. And are you sure?”

“About what?”

“That you’re not in love with her. I thought everybody in that damn house was.” Ronan couldn’t keep the slight tinge of jealousy from his voice. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was jealous of. Maybe that they had all known her longer than him. That they were all closer with her than he was.

Sebastian snorted, then asked, “Are you?”

“I’m her husband.”

Finally the door clicked and fell open, revealing a circle cleared amidst a cache of various industrial debris. Ronan stepped through first, carefully. They’d been lucky to survive the hedge beasts mostly unscathed, but luck always ran out.

“That doesn’t answer my question in the slightest.” Sebastian followed, looking at the ground while Ronan searched the mounds around them for watching eyes.

“I’ve only known her a week.”

“So? Paris fell in love with Helen after a glance.”

“That was purely superficial. Love at first sight always is.”

“Well, good thing you’ve known her a whole week then.” Sebastian crouched down, examining the charred asphalt.

“What is it going to take to get you to stop this line of questioning?”

“Did you sleep with her?” he asked again.

“Yes. Last night. Happy?” Ronan was exasperated.

“Ronan, this is some dark shit.” True to his word, Sebastian dropped the subject.

“Hm?” Ronan looked to where his friend was looking. Just seeing the circle scorched into the ground and the symbols surrounding it gave him chills. He’d been pushing to have this sort of thing outlawed like the Seelie did, but Maeve wouldn’t hear of it. She liked her court being associated with darkness and, in this case, evil.

“Shit.”

“Shit is right,” Sebastian skirted the perimeter, fingers to his lips. It had always been a nervous habit of his. “This is a power stealing ritual. Look there, that one is to hold in place and there, that’s to drain, and that’s to upload, so to speak. If someone did this to her …”

Then she was either dead or very near it. Ronan swallowed, feeling his heart rate pick up even more. He began to pace.

“There doesn’t seem to be an exit from this area save the door we just came in and the ring isn’t leading me back there. She must have made another gate.”

Sebastian frowned. “But that means she could have gone --”

“Anywhere,” Ronan cut him off. “She could have gone anywhere. Mortal realm, Faerie, fucking anywhere.”

The healer looked surprised at Ronan’s level of perturbation. “We’ll find her, Ronan. Just take a breath.”

Ronan ceased his movements and glared at his best friend, but followed his direction all the same. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes on the exhale, trying to come up with any inkling as to what Elizabeth’s next move would be.

The unsettling sound of stone suddenly grinding against itself answered his question for him as a wall beside them opened up and the Hedge King stepped through.

It had been years since Ronan last saw him, but he hadn’t changed all that much. His straight brown hair was pulled back from his face with a leather and his thick eyebrows formed a perfect scowl, punctuated by his bright amethyst eyes. Elizabeth’s eyes.

Beside him, Sebastian gasped.

“Are you looking for this?” asked the Hedge King, his voice laden with years of isolation. He held out his hand and there, resting in his palm, was Elizabeth’s ring. The silver, dark blue and bright purple made a hard contrast to the King’s earthen colored robes.

Ronan’s jaw tightened. “Tell me she gave that to you willingly or I will kill you before you draw your next breath. I know she is your daughter but I do not know what kind of sense of honor you have, stuck here by yourself for so many years.”

Sebastian made a choking sound. “Daughter? You’ve gotta be shitting me!”

The Hedge King threw back his head and laughed, the deep sound echoing hauntingly around the ritual space. “She gave it to me willingly. But why would you take me at my word? You’re right about my honor; I have very little. What’s left of it belongs to her though, rest assured.”

“Why did she give you her ring?” asked Ronan, every muscle in his body tense with distrust. His palm gripped the hilt of his sword so tightly his fingers tingled.

“Why is she running from her husband?” countered the King, a smile tugging at his thin lips.

Ronan growled. “Answer my question. I don’t care if you’re a king. I’m unable to harm the Queen of the Seelie Court but I’ve no such obligation to you.”

The King laughed again. “You could try, Knight. The truth is that Elizabeth gave me her ring so that you would not follow her.”

Ronan’s mind raced. What the hell had she seen? The fact that there were multiple possibilities that could elicit this reaction made him a little sick to his stomach.

“Did you tell her that you’re her father?” he asked.

Those thin lips twitched once more, and again he didn’t answer Ronan’s question. “Tell me, Mac Nevin, when did you figure it out?”

“When I first met you all those decades ago I learned of your power. When Elizabeth’s power surfaced I did some digging into Fianna’s history and put two and two together.” Ronan paused, taking a deep breath to try and tamp down his frustration. “Where did Elizabeth go?”

“Does it anger you that I’m your father-in-law? Who’s doing Thanksgiving this year? Do you think Maeve will let you off your leash long enough to attend?”

The Hedge King was baiting Ronan now and he knew it, but it didn’t make it any less annoying. To his left, Sebastian seemed to be having a similar reaction. The Healer had the Hedge King fixed with a hard gaze, a slight sneer to his lips.

“I’m surprised Maeve would trade away her favorite toy so easily. And to someone barely noble, too, at least as far as the Unseelie Court is concerned. That must have stung.”

It would have stung much worse if Ronan actually loved Maeve. At best he tolerated her. Still, it had been a little demeaning to be married off without a second thought, as if he were cattle and not the second most feared figure in the entirety of the Unseelie Court. All due to the scheming of his raving monarch.

“You’re barking up the wrong tree, mate,” said Sebastian, looking a little more at ease now with his arms across his chest. “The Knight loves the Queen about as much as doctors love corpses.”

Ronan couldn’t help amusement at Sebastian’s comparison. It was correct in more ways than one. What Ronan felt for Maeve, though once very much alive, was gone now, and had no hope of being revived. Not now that Elizabeth was in the picture. Which meant Maeve had lost at her own game, hadn’t it? She’d wanted to make him angry, and she had. She’d wanted to make him think she no longer cared for him, but he knew better. And now that he cared for the girl she’d forced upon him, there was nothing she could do about it except fume.

“So if you’re Beth’s father why haven’t you come to find her all these years? She had a really shitty childhood, y’know,” Sebastian said, that protectiveness he’d mentioned earlier coming to the surface.

The Hedge King lost his smirk and turned to the healer, cocking his head. “You speak of my daughter so informally. More so even than her husband. Who are you to her?”

“We live together.”

“Does she live with many men?”

“Two more,” said Sebastian. “Eh, three, counting Ronan. So, four altogether.”

The King’s nostrils flared and he looked at Ronan. “You allow this?”

“It’s not like she has sex with us. And this is the twenty first century. It’s common in this day and age for a young woman to live with friends.” Sebastian seemed slightly offended.

“We’re getting off topic,” Ronan cut in. “Where is Elizabeth?”

“Why is she running from her husband? You think I would give up her location to someone who might potentially want to hurt her?”

“I grow tired of this, Hedge King.” Ronan drew his sword, resting it against the adam’s apple of the purple eyed sovereign before him. “I vow that she will come to no harm at my hand. Now where is my wife?”

The Hedge King smiled grimly. “You should already know the answer to that, if you know her at all, Unseelie Knight.”

“Benji,” muttered Sebastian.

Of course. If Elizabeth was running away, which she seemed to have an annoying habit of doing, she would stop and retrieve her fire elemental first, or at the very least say goodbye to him. She knew better than to stay there where Ronan could find her, though a small part of him hoped maybe she’d make an oversight in favor of her own bed for the night.

“Another of her lovers?” Again the Hedge King baited, even with a blade pressed to his adam’s apple.

Ronan pushed a little harder, drawing a drop of blood. The King didn’t so much as flinch. “Send us there. I know you have the power to create portals.”

“I will do no such thing. You will go back the way you came.”

Ronan bared his teeth and pressed a little harder, drawing a bit more blood, before relenting. He stepped back, lowering his sword. Killing the newly discovered father of his newlywed wife probably would not get him back in her good graces any faster. Especially since the man seemed to be on her side.

“Let’s go,” he said to Sebastian, pivoting on his heel and striding for the heavy metal door to the ritual space.

At the last moment he spun again and marched back to the King. “Give me the ring.”

“Why should I do that?”

“Because it’s mine. I had it made. When I find my wife again I’ll give it back to her.”

A small smile played at the Hedge King’s lips and he held out his palm where the ring lay. Ronan seized it and the ring on his own hand buzzed approvingly, reunited with its mate.

“Until we meet again, Hedge King,” he said, stalking back to the door and out into the Hedge, Sebastian at his heels.

It hadn’t exactly been daylight before, but it was definitely getting dark now. Ronan and Sebastian hurried through the maze, swords still drawn, ready for any attack that might come their way.

They didn’t have to wait long.

They turned a corner and were met with a horde of revenants.

When Ronan and Sebastian stumbled into the Glen they were both more than a little bloody. They looked up in unison and there stood Rose, hands on her hips and a fire in her eyes.

“Well?” she asked.

Behind her, the bar buzzed with the chatter of a drunken crowd.

“Everything’s fine,” Ronan rasped, sheathing his sword.

The Steward looked unconvinced. “Where’s my niece?”

“We told you this wasn’t about Beth,” Sebastian panted. “She’s safe and sound back at the palace.”

Rose cocked her head. “So you expect me to believe that Elizabeth stayed willingly at the Unseelie Palace while you two went into the Hedge to what, monster hunt?” Her tone conveyed not only disbelief but thinly veiled rage.

“Believe what you want, Steward.” Ronan brushed himself off and started for the door to the mortal realm.

“Ronan!” she called shrilly.

He spun back around, towering over Rose intimidatingly for a moment. “I don’t have time for this. You’re going to have to trust me.”

Sebastian tugged on Ronan’s sleeve and before the Steward could answer he and his friend were through the door and breathing in the crisp air of a Boston evening.

They trudged to a nearby lot where their bikes waited and then started the relatively brief journey to the place that Ronan was hesitant to call home, since he had only known it for a short period of time. But, he realized, as they rounded the curve in the driveway and the towering victorian came into view, it felt more like a home to him than the Pale Palace ever had.