The boy shuddered. “No, thank you.”

“We admit it,” the girl said, climbing onto a painted horse.

“Freely admit it,” the boy echoed.

“Then answer Gabriel’s question, and tell us what you are. I’d run through the list of overly chatty fae, but we’d be here all day.”

“True,” the girl said.

The boy nodded. “Very true.”

At a glare from Olivia, the girl said, “Dryad.”

“So they’re not all female?” Olivia said.

The male looked down at himself. “I should hope not. Or Nature has made a very serious mistake.”

Olivia turned to Gabriel. “They’re Greek fae. Even more capricious than most, which is saying a lot.”

“That’s rude,” the girl said. “Talking in front of us.”

“Quite rude,” the boy said. “Also, quite true. However, if we are capricious, it isn’t through malice, but simply a love of adventure and good fun. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“Unless you’re the person being played in the name of that good fun,” the girl said.

“True.”

“How did you find us?” Olivia asked. “Did you follow us? Or did you have something to do with our car breaking down?”

They both stared at her.

“We’re dryads,” the boy said slowly. “Not auto mechanics.”

“Not tracking dogs, either,” the girl said. “You were here. We were here. A happy coincidence.”

The boy looked from Olivia to Gabriel and then back to Olivia. He smiled smugly. “You’ve dumped Arawn, then? Good.” He glanced at Lloergan. “No insult to the Cŵn Annwn, but it makes things easier. Throw over Arawn, take Gwynn, and everyone lives happily ever after. Except Arawn. And the Huntsmen. But we fae live happily ever after, and that’s what counts.”

“If she threw over Arawn, she wouldn’t have his hound,” the girl said.

“Maybe she stole it.”

The girl lit up as she straightened on the wooden horse. “Ooh, yes.” She turned to Olivia. “Did you steal the cŵn? Whisk it away from under Arawn’s nose?”

“Ricky’s in Florida. I’m hound-sitting.”

“Oh.” The girl slumped over her steed’s neck.

“What are you doing here?” the boy asked, twirling around one of the poles. “We couldn’t figure it out.”

“I told you it’s a mystery,” the girl said.

“I know, that’s why I’m asking.”

She leaned over to cuff him. “I mean they’re solving a mystery. That’s what they do. He’s the king of the Fae.”

“She’s the lady of the Hunt.”

In unison, they said, “They solve crime!”

The girl looked at the boy. “We’re forgetting Arawn.”

“Hmm. Let’s see…He’s the king of the Fae. She’s the lady of the Hunt. He’s the lord of the Otherworld. They solve crime.”

The girl wrinkled her nose. “That doesn’t work.”

“Not at all. She’ll have to throw Arawn over.”