Claus

Forty-Six

The train pulled into the station in Maladh only an hour after it had left New Corinth. The sun had just begun to rise, and its rays shown their way through the train's windows into the baggage car. Faryn dared a quick glance out one of the windows. Most of the buildings in the surrounding area were white, trimmed in terracotta brown. Palm trees lined one street. Near a space that seemed to be a park, though no one was in it, was a tree with a spindly trunk and either pinkish red flowers or berries. It was too far away for her to be able to make it out clearly.

From her spot behind a window, the beings she saw only looked like Acurials. Without being able to smell them or see them change their features, she didn't know what type of Acurials they really were.

She sunk back down into her hiding spot. After this they would head to Franavik. She'd figure out how to open the door and get Nick out and clear her name. And keep murder off Clora's and Father Winter's list of charges.

Peter stood in the center of the car, stretching his legs and arms. "I wish we had time to go out and explore."

"This isn't a vacation, Peter," Cassian said.

"After all this is over, we really should take one."

Clíodhna propped herself on top of one of the suitcases tied to the wall. "I'd be good with coming back here. There aren't many Leprechauns and there's no snow."

Faryn leaned her head back against a suitcase. "I'm not sure how I feel about the Spirit Court right now." And Maladh was the Spirit Court's domain and a home to its members such as Aicha Kandicha, and both Mami Wata and Anansi were known to spend much of the year in the city.

"Or Narcissa Court," Clíodhna reminded her. "So unless you want to vacation in Nebraska with Peter . . ."

"Doesn't Arlo have a house in Spain?" Cassian asked.

Clíodhna shrugged. "A few."

"So Spain it is."

Peter stretched his arms behind his back. "Works for me. I—"

Footsteps cut him off. Faryn squeezed herself back into her hiding spot. She could hardly see the door besides for a slit between the luggage, but she could see Peter just fine. He pulled the Leprechaun off the luggage and to the floor, pushing her down on her back. Clíodhna didn't look confused. Rather, she looked like she was about to burst into laugh.

Peter dropped to his knees so that he hovered over her. "Don't you dare," he muttered a second before he kissed her.

Faryn's eyes widened.

Clíodhna though tangled her fingers in Peter's hair and wrapped her legs over his hips, pulling him down on top of her.

The door squeaked as it slid open. Faryn's nostrils flared as she scented an Adze. A throat was cleared, and Peter broke the kiss to lift his head and turn it to the side.

"Erm . . . I'm sorry but guests aren't—"

"Then maybe you should offer more privacy to guests." Peter leaned back, facing Clíodhna. She was staring at him, a smirk on her lips.

"Guests really aren't allowed to be back here."

"All right. All right." Peter stood, still not facing the Adze. "If you could just give us a minute to compose ourselves, we'll be on our way."

"Of—of course."

The door shut and Clíodhna threw the back of her hand over her mouth as her body shook with silent laughter.

"I'm glad kissing me was so amusing," Peter muttered as he pulled her up by her hand.

"I'm laughing because you looked so serious about it. Like you were going off to war or something equally as terrifying."