She pointed at one of the toy toads. It turned blue, then red, then green, then flipped on its back and spun, before turning into a stone. Then it burst forth into toad form again and the cycle continued.

No, thank you, Zachariah said.

He turned to keep moving, but the woman spoke again.

“He’s waiting for you,” she said.

Who is he?

“The one you have come to meet.”

For months now, he had been slowly trailing a series of contacts through the faerie world, trying to find out about the lost Herondales he had learned of at the Shadow Market and carnival in Tennessee. He had not come specifically to meet anyone tonight—he had a number of contacts who provided information as they came by it. But someone had come to meet him.

Thank you, he said politely. Where am I to go?

“The King’s Head Yard,” she said, smiling widely. Her teeth were small and pointed.

Brother Zachariah nodded. The King’s Head Yard was a nearby alley—a horseshoe-shaped offshoot of Borough High Street. It was accessed through an arch between the buildings. As he approached it, he heard the sound of planes overhead, then the whistling of a payload being dropped.

Nothing to do but keep going. Zachariah crossed under the archway partway, then stopped.

I am here, he said to the darkness.

“Shadowhunter,” a voice said.

From the bend at the end of the yard, a figure emerged. It was a faerie, and clearly one of the Court. He was extremely tall and almost human in appearance but for his wings, which were brown and white and spread wide, almost touching the opposite walls.

I understand you wish to speak to me, Brother Zachariah said politely.

The faerie stepped closer, and Zachariah could see a copper mask in the form of a hawk covering the top half of his face.

“You have been interfering,” the faerie said.

In what, precisely? Zachariah inquired. He did not move back, but he tightened his grip on his staff.

“Things that do not concern you.”

I have been making inquiries about a lost Shadowhunter family. That is very much something that concerns me.

“You come to my brethren. You ask the fey.”

This was true. Since his encounter with Belial at the carnival in Tennessee, Brother Zachariah had been pursuing many leads in Faerie. He had seen, after all, a Herondale descendant with a faerie wife and child. They had fled, but it had not been him they feared. Whatever danger threatened the lost Herondale, Zachariah had learned it came from Faerie.

“What is it you know?” the faerie asked, stepping forward.

I would advise you not to come closer.

“You have no idea of the danger of what you seek. This is Faerie business. Cease your meddling in that which affects our Lands and our Lands alone.”