Free To Catch a Queen by Shanna Swendson

broken.
    Michael stopped on the bridge overlooking Bethesda Terrace, and she hung back, reluctant to let him see her. Was he meeting Sophie, or was he on some mission of his own? Then not too far away, she noticed Athena and Amelia. “The gang’s all here,” she muttered to herself. This night could get really interesting.

 
Ten
     
    Central Park
    11:55 p.m.
     
    Michael stood at the balustrade overlooking Bethesda Terrace and checked his watch one more time. His pulse quickened with anticipation. The first time he’d seen one of these markets, he’d had no idea what was happening. He’d tried to rationalize an entire festival materializing out of thin air in Central Park. Now that he knew the truth, he braced himself for the shock.
    One more check of his watch showed that he still had a couple more minutes. Others were starting to gather in the area. He was sure most of them were some kind of fairy folk, but now he knew there were more humans in on the secret. A stirring in the waters of the lake on the other side of the terrace startled him, then he realized that there were people in the water—using the term “people” loosely, of course.
    Beau, who’d been slumped against the railing, came to attention and stood, so Michael checked his watch again. It was almost time. He held his breath, and while he waited, the terrace suddenly transformed.
    This market was bigger than the ones he’d seen before, like the difference between the regular greenmarkets and the Christmas markets held around the city. The terrace was packed with brightly colored booths. The only empty space other than the narrow aisles between rows of booths was a dance floor near the edge of the lake, beside which a small band played.
    The market was already crowded with folk who’d come from the Realm, and the more earthly fae who’d been gathering flooded down stairs and paths into the market. Beau started walking, joining the flow of the crowd, and Michael came along behind the dog.
    When he reached the first of the market stalls, he put his hand in his coat pocket and felt for the little angel figurine. It was a pewter version of the fountain in the middle of the market. Detective Tanaka had given it to him when Michael started his training to be a detective, continuing the joke begun during Michael’s patrol days when someone had realized that St. Michael the archangel was the patron saint of policemen. Michael tolerated the good-natured teasing and had a box full of angel figures, magnets, and postcards that had landed on his desk or in his locker over the years. This one was the most meaningful because it had been a sign that the senior detective had accepted him. He hadn’t realized just how important it was to him until he contemplated giving it away.
    But what would be a worthwhile trade for it? Not food or drink, which eliminated about half the stalls. He’d brought human food with him, either to sustain himself or use as payment while in the Realm. Fairy food was unlikely to do him any good.
    On second thought, he realized he shouldn’t be looking at the stalls, but rather at the vendors. His trade would only have value if he got something they valued, and they wouldn’t be selling anything personally meaningful to them. He walked slowly through the market, glancing at the fairies and other beings staffing their booths. None of them appeared to be wearing anything that looked like it might have great sentimental value. Then again, would anyone guess that his most treasured item of clothing was his first NYPD sweatshirt, now faded and tattered?
    On his second pass through the market, he noticed a woman selling small sculptures that looked so lifelike that he halfway suspected they weren’t sculptures at all, but rather enchanted beings frozen into position. In this place, that wasn’t entirely out of the question. Her booth was nearly empty of shoppers, and he thought that was causing her some distress. Her eyes darted back and