“Checking every carriage,” Pritkin snapped. “And I’m part fey—”

“Which is why you shouldn’t have come,” Mircea said flatly.

Pritkin’s eyes narrowed, taking on a color closer to the turbulent, icy water below. “Which is why you need me—”

“I’ve dealt with the fey before—”

“And how many men did you lose?” Pritkin asked sweetly. Because sure. This was the time to poke the bear.

“Can we stay on target?” I asked. We were only three carriages away from the fey, with the huge portcullis behind them close enough to remind me of a mouth full of jagged teeth, ready to consume us. It didn’t help that icicles had formed on the pitted iron, turning the teeth into elongated fangs. Which was appropriate considering how many more of those there were in the surrounding crowd.

Damn, I wanted out of here!

But we had a job to do first.

“—vampires,” Mircea was saying tersely. “Not men. And I know how much that thought disturbs you.”

“It disturbs me that our forces are dwindling—of whatever kind,” Pritkin growled. “I would prefer that number not include us!”

“A little late,” I pointed out, because we were almost there. The carriage with the stupidly armed driver had been allowed to pass, with a fey at the reins after the man himself was tossed carelessly over the parapet. We were now second in line.

I need a drink, I thought vaguely, trying not to listen for the coachman’s terrified scream to abruptly cut out. I didn’t hear it—the bridge was freakishly high, and the wind was doing a banshee impression—but my brain kept insisting that I did, and rerunning the sound on a loop. Scream, splat, scream, splat, scream, splat.

Mircea pulled a flask out of his coat as if he’d heard my thoughts, but the alcohol didn’t go into me. It went onto Pritkin, who snarled and grabbed the now mostly empty piece of silver. “Are you mad?”

“They can’t smell you this way,” Mircea informed him, unperturbed.

“They don’t need to smell me! They’re fey. They can sense—”

And then it was our turn.

The carriage in front of us—a closed one, to keep the late afternoon sunlight off delicate vampire skin—had been waved through almost at once. I didn’t know who had been in it, but they must have been trusted enough to bypass the goons, leaving us holding up the line. Pritkin had no choice but to brave it out, snapping the silence spell and clicking his tongue at the horses, causing them to move slowly forward.