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I glanced back at the Selkie—apparently called Mira—then stared at Faolan. “Who else knows she’s here?”

Striker groaned, but bit back any arguments against me taking the girl across the barrier alone. He could see I wouldn’t back down—or maybe he just didn’t want to argue in front of this crazy Fae woman.

Sloane’s teasing—and Rake’s silent agreement to it—didn’t sit well with me, especially after everything I’d gone through to follow Rake here… and Rake seemed to realize my displeasure.

Fiska and I sat by Mother’s bedside, keeping her company, until she became tired and drifted off to sleep again. Though Vannie had gone to fetch Kian what seemed like hours ago, no one had ever returned to check on Mother. After the spectacle the king had made of our unwelcome status in his city, I wasn’t about to go roaming the palace halls to look for them.

Striker raised an eyebrow at the old Fae woman, who was still eyeing the spot beneath my jacket where I kept my runed pistol.

My pulse whooshed in my ears as my alarm swung toward anger. “A stun? Rake, he has a heart condition! What did you do to my father?”

I tore my gaze from Fiska’s disapproving stare, hurried over to where Mother lay on the cot, and dropped to my knees beside her.

I knocked on the window of the truck’s cab as we neared the address on the paper the Shoppe’s cashier had given me. “Up ahead on the right,” I called through the rear window. “Maybe two more blocks.”