I was over having so many unanswered questions. Maybe the best approach was the direct approach. Forget sneaking into libraries and doing research. That wasn’t getting me anywhere. I pushed myself up and walked to the table of Court Guards. All of them looked at me as if a horn had suddenly sprouted from the middle of my forehead. I stared right back at them and that was when I noticed that all of them had the tattoo, albeit in different spots. One guy had it on the back of his neck, the guy sitting beside him had his behind his ear, and the guy who had just passed by my table had his in the same spot as the bald guy, on his wrist.

“So.” I dragged the chair from a nearby table and sat. “Anyone here know a large, bald guard?” All of the guards had the same blank expression on their faces as they looked at me. I wondered if they had been trained to keep their faces so emotionless.

When they did not reply, I carried on with my questions, becoming more direct to see if I could get some reactions out of them. “What’s up with the tattoo? Are you all in a cult? Is that it?”

Nothing. Not even a twitch of an eyebrow. Damn. They had been trained well. I decided to change the subject.

“What about the Faction?” I asked, searching each of their faces. I noticed two of them give each other a sideways glance and I knew I was on the right track now. “Don’t you guys know anything? Some Court Guards you lot are,” I scoffed, folding my arms and leaning back in my chair. I switched it up and asked a serious question now. “Am I being followed?” I swallowed the anxiety growing inside me.

The guy on my right clenched his fist. He finally opened his mouth, earning a disapproving look from his companions. “You don’t know anything, kid.”

“That’s very true.” I fixed my gaze on him. “So why don’t you tell me?”

His Adam’s apple bobbed up and down, and right when his lips parted—either to spill the beans or to tell me to eff off—I felt a familiar grip on my shoulder. “Hi, Mom.”

“Outside. Now.”

“How did you get changed so quick?” Her hair was loose and down, not in a bun like the female guard had had, and she was in her usual camel-colored winter coat. Had it really been her I had seen with the rest of the guards? When she didn’t respond, I asked, “Were you here with them before?”