I put my hands to my head, mind and heart racing. Feish was my friend, and if she’d been hurt . . . If Crash had hurt her, then it was my fault for dragging her into this. “Wait here.”

“Sure.” Jinx sat and scratched at her belly with her long claws. I pushed my hand against the door and slid through the opening, the edges of it dragging against my bare arms. Adrenaline soared and I struggled to keep my breathing steady. Only one of the urns was burning, but a few candles were scattered around, two on their sides but still burning.

“Feish?” I whispered her name.

A smell I didn’t like flowed to my nose. Something dead and something fishy, just like Jinx had said.

Please God, don’t let it be Feish.

Step by step, I drew closer to Crash’s workstation. The tools that had been carefully laid out had been tossed everywhere, as if a seriously pissed off someone had thrown a tantrum. I found myself pulling out the two knives from my thigh sheaths, taking comfort from the fact that at least I wouldn’t be taken by surprise.

“Who are you?”

I shrieked and spun, slashing with the knives toward the voice. The speaker bellowed and fell backward, a hand to his face. So much for not being surprised.

The man stumbled back a few more steps, breathing hard. “Who are you?” he repeated, his voice a tenor, full of anger and what I could only describe as power. He sounded powerful.

Which meant there was no way I was giving him my name—I remembered that much from Gran. “I’m with the Hollows.”

“Meddling idiots . . .” he growled, and slowly stood. Very tall, very slim, his face was hooded with a cloak, so he was definitely the bad guy here. Or at least he looked the part.

I didn’t lower the blades, but instead lifted them to eye level and pointed the tips at him. “Who are you?”

“I am one of the council, here to check on this . . . criminal.” He spat the word at me. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m friends with Feish.”

“Fish? You’re friends with a fish?” The hood concealed his eyes and face, but I could hear the condescension as clearly as if he’d tried to spell the word and failed.

“Her name is Fe-ish,” I said, “And she works for Crash.”

“That is not his name,” the man said, then snorted. “And he is a criminal, so anyone working with him is criminal by association, including any and all fish.” His tone made it clear that he felt that included me as well.

I arched a brow as best I could, my arms shaking from holding them up so long, but I didn’t feel he’d warranted me lowering them. “Fine, he’s a criminal. What are you doing here?”