Free Old Dog, New Tricks by Hailey Edwards

five conclave divisions across the United States. Shaw made eleven, Mai twelve, Mac thirteen, Mable fourteen and I was fifteen.
    “Families going to ground, like mine,” Mai added, “are heeding rumors straight from Faerie.”
    I nodded, understanding what she left unsaid. She had known, and she hadn’t told her skulk. She trusted that her father’s connections would get word out to her family without compromising herself.
    “Each of us was summoned personally by Evander. For the Morrigan to know, someone reached out to her after he visited them.” Mac returned his attention to the table. “For the portal to have been active when you arrived, she needed time to prepare. That means one of the first informed her.”
    “Or that he informed her first.” I considered the likelihood of a Seelie setting aside millennia of hatred for the Unseelie. Even if richly compensated, it was a tossup. “There’s also the possibility Kerwin snitched to the Morrigan while Evander’s back was turned.”
    Mac was right. The trap had already been set, and we walked right into it. The only reason Mai was involved at all was because she came with Shaw to rescue me from Balamohan. Evander had no reason to tell her about the vote. I had done that, because I selfishly wanted to see her before we left.
    Shaw and I were the last ones rounded up, and thanks to my folks’ spat, we arrived at the office well after the charm had been activated upstairs, promising the trolls and the portal plenty of privacy.
    Speaking of the parental units... “Where is Mom?” Calm as Mac was, I knew she must be fine. “Did she make it to the office? She’s okay, right?”
    Grimness settled into the lines around Mac’s mouth. “She is at home under Sven’s guardianship.”
    Sour as his expression turned, I wasn’t about to ask how his declaration went. Instead I let it slide and tipped my head back. Sven was a good guy. He would protect her with his life. “What was the point of the attack?”
    “The trolls came armed with never blades.”
    Never heard of them. “What are those?”
    “If the blade pierces your skin, you won’t stop bleeding without magical intervention.” Mac hesitated. “Sometimes even that isn’t enough.”
    I glanced at my right hand where the cut had been but wasn’t now. “You healed me.”
    “No.” He shook his head. “It’s beyond my abilities to heal. I stopped the bleeding, for now. The wound is concealed beneath a layer of glamour so that no one who doesn’t expect your injury will see it.”
    I flexed my hand. “It doesn’t hurt.”
    Had it hurt before? I couldn’t remember.
    “It’s all part of the enchantment folded into the blades. Victims are slower to panic if they don’t feel pain. By the time most notice they’ve been cut, they’re weak and easy prey to what hunts them.”
    I gulped hard. “Can it be cured?”
    “Once we’re in Faerie,” Mac said solemnly, “I know a place we can go.”
    Mai came closer, extending her arm down to where I sat, and I hesitated. I was right-handed, but I shied away from putting pressure on the binding and offered an awkward left-handed grip instead.
    A grunt of effort later, she tugged me onto my feet beside her.
    “I’m not that heavy,” I grumbled.
    “It really is you.” She laughed. “I wasn’t sure.”
    Still woozy, I leaned my hip against hers for balance. “How bad was it?”
    “The Morrigan had her hooks in deep. She was talking through you. Screaming through you was more like it. Mac called it a suggestive echo from keeping the pendant against your skin for so long.”
    Considering what had happened to Shaw, I felt selfish for asking, “What about my skins?”
    “I retrieved them before I warded the portal.” Mac turned. “You can have them back when you master creating your own aer póca. Until that time, I’ll store them with my things. Sound fair?”
    “I don’t sense I have much say in the matter, so sure.” I rolled a shoulder.