Thinking about the past was something Rika steadfastly tried to avoid, but seeing Keenan dredged up old memories. She shivered, and even the desert heat suddenly wasn’t warm enough to counter the remembered chill. She shook her head as tears slid down her cheeks. Angrily, she wiped them away and looked toward the mortals in the distance climbing up the rock wall of one of the canyons. Three motorcycles—two with saddlebags and camping gear strapped down—were parked in the shadow of the canyon.

“At least they can’t see me.” Rika wanted to run toward them, to be near the mortals, to be far from where she’d spoken to the faery king, but she kept her pace, slowing briefly only as she passed some jumping cholla cactus. It didn’t truly jump, but like the sweetly named teddy-bear cholla, the spines were easily detached. She’d learned that lesson in her earliest days in the desert. Like some of the native desert fey, some of the plants here were beautiful but would cut her skin with only the barest touch. It was one of the things she liked about the Mojave: here, the faeries weren’t hiding their true nature behind court manners and pretty words. She liked the extreme honesty of the desert and many of its inhabitants.

As Rika walked across the sand, a soft smile crept over her face as she saw one of those inhabitants, the first mortal to draw her attention so intensely since she’d become fey. Jayce was, like the world around him, real. She wanted to speak to him even more than usual, to lose herself in a conversation with him. She couldn’t. If he wasn’t interested in her, it would crush her.

“It would probably be a mistake,” she lectured herself, but she still stared at Jayce. Even the lingering clouds that reminded her of Keenan’s visit weren’t enough to completely convince her that her interest in Jayce was wrong.

The faeries in the desert didn’t come near her as she passed them. They never did, but they stood so that she couldn’t help but see them watching her. Like most desert dwellers, they peered from where they were half-hidden behind the shelter of canyon walls, eyelet canyons, and caves. The faeries who were out in the direct sun moved with a languid gait that said time was somehow more than infinite here.

Although they didn’t approach, they did call out at her from various directions, making it clear that she was surrounded. Although the desert might look empty to those unfamiliar with it, there was always life—both natural and supernatural—all around her.

“Rika. Hey Rika.”

“Come ’ere.”

“No, over here.”

Numerous faeries smiled and beckoned her nearer. Some smiles seemed friendly; others appeared menacing. Rika looked around, tracking where they all were, assessing whom she’d fight first if necessary.