Briar Queen by Katherine Harbour

glassy in a corner, realized it was the Grindylow’s second eye, and decided they might need Phouka after all. She stood up. “Let’s go.”
    She staggered. Jack caught her, gently smoothing her hair from her face.
    â€œPerhaps,” he ventured as Moth returned to the kitchen and began rummaging in the drawers for defensive cutlery, “I should take you home.”
    â€œNo, you shouldn’t. I’m getting used to this sort of thing.” She kept telling herself not to fall down.
    Jack said, “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

C HAPTER 5
    â€œThere are some upon this earth of yours,” returned the spirit, “who lay claim to know us, and who do their deeds of passion, pride, ill-will, hatred, envy, bigotry, and selfishness in our name; who are as strange to us and all our kith and kin as if they had never lived.”
    Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â Â  — A C HRISTMAS C AROL , C HARLES D ICKENS
    T he abandoned Tirnagoth Hotel had once been Reiko Fata’s headquarters and, at night, its sinister elegance whispered of fine things decaying. The gates, tangled with withered vines, opened slowly as Jack’s sedan approached.
    In the circular drive, Jack, Finn, and Moth got out of the sedan. Finn still felt the unease-bordering-on-dread that the Fatas’ proximity caused. Shaky and exhausted from fighting the Grindylow, she felt as if she’d just recovered from a brutal virus and desperately wanted to go home. “It’s quiet.”
    â€œNot really.” As Jack undid the metal gates, the music and voices of a revel blasted from the courtyard. Climbing the stairs after him, Finn gazed up at the words etched in stone above the impressive entry of medieval-looking doors.
    â€œâ€˜ The unseen is here and calleth to thee, ’” Jack explained.
    Moth studied the hotel. Remembering how he’d fought the Grindylow, Finn wondered exactly what he’d done for Seth Lot as he whispered, “What is this place?”
    Tirnagoth’s doors swung open and a slim figure emerged, brilliant hair falling around a pretty face with the eyes of a devil. “The entrance to Fairyland.”
    â€œAbsalom,” Jack spoke wearily.
    Absalom Askew, who appeared to be a teenager but who was probably as old as rocks, assessed their condition with one sweeping gaze. He blinked rapidly when he saw Moth, who stood with his hands in the pockets of the fur-lined coat he’d borrowed from Jack.
    â€œJack. Serafina. Who is this charming young man you’ve brought with you?”
    â€œI’m Moth.” Moth frowned. “That’s what I’m called.”
    â€œWhat you’re called.” Absalom stepped back, gesturing inward. He wore a dark suit with an orange silk tie and tiger eye cuff links. “Welcome to Tirnagoth.”
    Jack, stepping in, looked Absalom over. “Nice suit.”
    â€œOh, this old thing.” Absalom straightened one cuff. “It’s just for the celebration. To which you were invited. Did you forget?”
    â€œYes.” By his tone, Jack obviously hadn’t.
    Absalom led them into the lobby where bronze lamps shaped into ivy tendrils and a chandelier of pink glass splintered light across black velvet furniture, a chessboard floor, and white taxidermy animals.
    â€œIt seems different in here,” Finn said. As they passed a display with mice frozen in the act of pulling a miniature coach made from a pumpkin, Jack met Finn’s gaze with a wide-eyed look.
    â€œPhouka’s into shabby chic with just a smidge of Dracula. I find it stimulating.” Absalom led them down a windowed hall. Beyond the windows was the inner courtyard, bright with lights and moving silhouettes. There was a pulse of drums, skirling fiddle music, shouts, and laughter.
    â€œWhat’s the celebration?” Finn ventured as Jack’s fingers twined with hers.
    â€œThe