Free Claimed By Shadow by Karen Chance

their laden cart onto it, ignoring the loitering humans. “They were traditionally employed as guardians for temples in the ancient world and for magical edifices in later centuries. But advances in warding have lessened the call for that kind of thing. Unlike the Light Fey, they can’t pass for human, so their entrance is restricted.” He scowled. “Their legal entrance, ” he amended.
    “I guess around here, they just kind of blend in with the ambiance,” I said, but Pritkin wasn’t listening. He had crouched and was looking around a corner as warily as if he expected to find an army on the other side.
    “Stay here,” he ordered. “I’m going to check out the area. When I return, we will have that talk you promised, or the next time we meet won’t be so pleasant.”
    “Pleasant? What weird definition of that word are you—” I stopped because he’d left, melting around the corner and into the shadows like a character in a video game. The guy was obviously cracked, but I had promised to hear him out. And if there was any chance of cutting a deal to get him and his Circle off my back, I wanted it.
    I didn’t think that going back to the kitchen was a good idea, so I hung out in the hallway. The suits of armor were interspersed with ugly tapestries, with the closest showing a Cyclops eating his way through a human army, a soldier in each hand and an arm dangling out of his bloody mouth. I decided to concentrate on the armor.
    That turned out to be more fun than I’d expected. The suits stood on individual wood platforms bearing brass plaques, each of which had a Latin inscription. I’d had to learn Latin growing up, thanks to my governess’s idea of what constituted a proper education, but the only time I’d used it outside the schoolroom was when Laura, a ghost friend, and I had amused ourselves thinking up mottos for Tony. Her favorite had been Nunquam reliquiae redire: carpe omniem impremis (Never go back for seconds: take it all the first time). I’d preferred Mundus vult decipi (There’s a sucker born every minute), but we settled on Revelare pecunia! (Show me the money!) because it fit better on the shield. I was rusty, but it didn’t take long to figure out that, like our efforts, the inscriptions at Dante’s weren’t as serious as they looked.
    Prehende uxorem meam, sis! (Take my wife, please!), begged the placard on the nearest knight. I grinned and moved down the hall, translating as I went. Some of the most amusing were Certe, toto, sentio nos in kansate non iam adesse (You know, Toto, I have a feeling we’re not in Kansas anymore), Elvem vivere (Elvis lives), and Estne volumen in amiculum, an solum tibi libet me videre? (Is that a scroll under your cloak, or are you just happy to see me?).
    I was crouched in front of a knight about halfway down the hall, trying to figure out the joke, when Pritkin came running full tilt back around the corner. I knew there was a problem before he opened his mouth—the fact that he was trailed by a line of hovering weapons sort of gave it away. “Get up!” he yelled as one of the floating arsenal—a knife long enough to be considered a short sword—took a swipe at him. If he hadn’t dodged at the last second, it would have taken off his head. As it was, an arc of bright red blood went flying from his half-severed ear.
    I admit that I just stood there for a moment. In my defense, the last time I’d seen Pritkin surrounded by levitating weapons, they had been his own. Before I could figure out why his knife was attacking him, two other figures rounded the corner. I recognized them as the mages who had been facing Enyo in Casanova’s earlier. “They aren’t with you?” I asked stupidly.
    He didn’t bother to reply. “Shift us out of here!” he yelled, throwing out an arm like someone doing a bad disco move. The other mages came to an abrupt halt. I didn’t know why until I reached out and a tangible wall of energy met my outstretched hand.