I was about to tell him that I didn’t have access to whatever trick he knew that let you look out of one world into another, but before I could, he laid a hand on my arm and suddenly I could see. See and hear.

“I don’t understand,” I said as I studied what he showed me. “What does it mean?”

“War.”

Grey

Corin—the guard that Tatiana brought to where we’re waiting with Mother Crone and her little treekin—really is a mess. One eye’s almost closed and there’s a cut above the other. The left side of his face has swollen, rounding out his once-chiseled cheekbone. His suit’s torn and dirty, he cradles one arm that’s obviously giving him pain, and he’s favouring his right leg.

It all becomes clear when he tells how he and his men tracked the bogans down to a funeral in the Tombs. Vastly outnumbered, they still tried to bring Big Dan and his boys in and got the crap beat out of them for their effort. I feel bad for him, but my heart sinks for an entirely other reason as he tells his story. I look at Jack and I know he’s thinking the same thing I am: This isn’t good. It’s not just that Tatiana’s guard was routed and the bogans have now scattered from here to who knows where. It’s that when Joe finds out about it, there’s going to be all hell to pay.

Corin’s voice trails off and for a long moment nobody has anything to say. Finally, Jack turns to the queen.

“So, basically, you’ve got nothing,” Jack says.

“It’s not like we didn’t try,” Tatiana tells him. “I sent a dozen guards and a gruagagh.”

Jack nods. He starts to roll himself a smoke and looks at the guard.

“How many died?” he asks.

The guard and Tatiana are seriously taken aback by the question.

“None,” Tatiana says. “Fairy don’t kill their own.”

Jack just looks at her, then he gives a slow nod.

“That’s right,” he says. “You save the killing for my people.”

“We don’t condone—”

“Yeah, yeah. But you don’t do much to stop it, either.”

Jack lights his cigarette without offering it to Tatiana first. I’m not sure she picks up on the insult.

“I’ve gotta say,” he goes on, “I’m surprised at how this turned out, though if I’d stopped to think about it, I guess I wouldn’t have been.”

“You’re not being fair . . .”

“And your people aren’t dying. No offense, Tatiana, but we’ve played it your way about as long as it’s going to go. We’ll handle things from here on out.”

“You can’t just—”