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his
head. “We’ve already started tracking. This had been up top for a while.”
    “Alive,” Adele added. “We need him alive.”
    Bascom glanced up at her, his face grim. For a moment Adele
wondered if he would be the one to challenge her. Then he looked down again.
    “Alive, Ma’am. Aye.”
    After Bascom left, Adele sent the rest of the court back to
the kingdom. They all looked as uncomfortable as she felt. Royals didn’t leave the
kingdom often, not if they could help it. Warriors were the only ones who
traveled frequently.
    Adele wandered through Kostya’s things alone. Did the warriors know what Thaddeus’ machine would do? Did they
understand what it would bring? They would return to the surface and the old
ways, with fame and glory for all. It was their only chance against the humans.
    Adele would have to watch Bascom, Imogene, Gideon, all of
them.
    A handful of grass caught Adele’s eye as she turned to
leave. More blood coated its razor-thin edges. Adele tested it, surprised that
it wasn’t the Tinker’s. No, it was a Maker’s. She resolved not to tell the
others of her discovery. A Maker could change everything. She’d need to find
the Maker herself. She could convince the Maker to join them. Just as she would
convince the Tinker. They would help her, her kingdom and her people. They just
had to.
    If they wouldn’t, well...the Maker could die.

Chapter Three
    Denise waited in the hot sun for the school bus. The weather
had been unseasonably warm all week, or so the weatherman had assured her. Tall
grass on either side of the road captured any cooling breezes. Dust still hung
in the air from the car that had passed earlier. Cicada calls cycled up and
down around her.
    The twins would be upset with Denise for waiting and would
accuse her of not trusting them. She could hear Dale’s whine: “We were just
late the one time! Jeez.”
    Denise didn’t have a good excuse for waiting, or even a
bribe to deflect the twins’ anger. All she had was a mother’s worry that something
wasn’t right. It hadn’t just been the phone call from the day before, or the
electricity failing so completely. Someone watched them. Every time Denise
walked outside, her hackles raised from unseen eyes.
    The crunching rock of an approaching vehicle turned Denise’s
attention. It came from the opposite direction from where the school bus would
travel.
    A beat-up red pickup truck came around the corner. As it
slowed, Denise recognized the driver—Eli Patterson, her landlord. One
tanned and weathered arm rested on the open window. White stubble sprouted all
along his strong chin. He kept his head shaved; today he wore a faded green cap.
    “Waiting for the kids?” Eli asked.
    Denise sheepishly nodded. Eli reminded her of Uncle Leonard,
a gruff man who’d moved away from the family and had a hobby farm. He’d always
talked about making it, big dreams but no plans for achieving his goals.
    “It won’t do for you to worry yourself sick about them,” Eli
warned.
    “We’ll be fine,” Denise told him, bristling. She was not worrying too much about her children.
“We lost power again last night,” she countered.
    “Did ya now. Must have been a
fairy haunting, ’cause our lights burned steady all night long. Did you try
your phone?”
    Denise nodded, a bit worried. “Also dead.”
    Eli beamed. “It was the fairies, then. They can’t abide
electronics. Folk tales tell of iron being a curse for them—to tell the
truth, magnets work much better.” He paused for a moment, drumming his thumb
against the steering wheel.
    Denise tried to maintain a straight face and not show her
surprise. Fairies? It was no wonder the electricity kept failing if her
landlord blamed it on myths instead of actually fixing the problem.
    “Tell you what,” Eli continued. “Been meaning to do some
landscaping ’round your place. Rowan and myrtle. That’ll do the trick. Keep the
fairies at bay.”
    “Thank you,” Denise said, not knowing