It took Beri’s people twenty-seven minutes to locate 54-year-old Nichos Brazerman of 75 Dillon Court in Fgstaff, Arizona. Beri could tell from the gnces they exchanged that his information dealers had decided he was mad, too. Why else would he be cyberstalking a conspiracy theorist? And why would he have dispatched his pne to bring this man to Faerie? Objectively, it did seem insane. The cost of sending his private jet on an international flight would have the monarchy’s detractors foaming at the mouth. And for something like this?

  This was a terrible idea. The man he’d flown in did not just believe in cryptids. He believed they were being abducted by aliens. What have you done, Beri thought, disgusted with himself. It was too te to change his mind; the guards had confirmed Nick5256143 was here, being escorted through the pace to his royal audience now.

  Beri had decided it would be intimidating if he met Nick in the throne room, so instead he paced the library with his hands csped at the small of his back. The librarian tried surreptitiously not to stare at him, focusing instead on what he was reading every time Beri gnced his way.

  What if, after all this, Nick really was just a wack job with a YouTube channel? What if the green light was a coincidence, or an accident? Or even worse, fraud he’d fallen all the way in for?

  It had to be true, or he would never get Katie back.

  After a wait of one hour and thirteen minutes, the double doors, carved from native Avalonian mahogany, swung open with a creak. Beri stilled with his heart racing, pulling his shoulders straight to appear at his full height. A pair of Pace Guards in dark blue wool stopped at the doors, saluting. Between them cowered a small human man, wild gray hair combed carefully to one side, cheap suit rumpled as if from a suitcase. He’d shaved since his st video. Apparently a royal summons, even from a monarch not his own, was enough to make Nick dress his best.

  Beri drew a deep breath, then released it. He strode across the room, hand outstretched for an American-style shake. The man (Nick) looked up at him with wide, amazed eyes as he accepted the greeting. His coke bottle gsses reflected Beri’s glow.

  “It was kind of you to come so quickly,” Beri said. “We’re afraid this is a matter of the utmost importance.” He pced his hand on Nick’s shoulder to lead him toward a long, shiny table, then cast a dismissal behind him: “Leave us.”

  The two guards, people Beri had known since he was a child, exchanged a look but did as they were told. He wanted to bristle, to shout after them that he wasn’t crazy, but what good would it do? He’d flown in a conspiracy theorist and alien hunter for a private conference after ciming a princess had been abducted by Romuns. Since coming home, he’d done very little to prove the worst of the rumors wrong.

  The man muttered a stammering response while Beri directed him to a chair. He’d brought a briefcase. Beri hoped there wasn’t a weapon inside. He could defend himself, but not without starting another international incident. There had been too many of those this week already.

  Beri took the seat directly across from Nick, folding his hands to hide their shaking. The man studied Beri’s face for a long moment. Nick’s eyes were blue and watery but attentive and intelligent for all that.

  Kindly, Nick said, “Your girlfriend, huh?”

  Beri simply shattered. Voice cracking with grief, he told Nick everything from the fight in the alley to the hospitalization.

  Nick nodded along, sympathetic, nonjudgmental. “She must be really something, to make you go through all of this. Especially in public.”

  Beri spread his hands on the tabletop, blinking away tears. “She’s everything I love.”

  “Would it help to know you’re not the only one?” Nick reached out to pat the back of Beri’s hand with a well-calloused palm. It should have felt overly familiar. It didn’t.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Believing in aliens is the kind of thing that makes you look crazy, no matter who you are.” Nick shrugged, apologetic, pulling his hand away. “You can be a perfectly respectable person–” he indicated Beri with one plump hand– “But the minute you admit you’ve seen an extraterrestrial or a UFO, you’re a kook. Interacting with them? Forget it.”

  Beri looked down at his hands on the table. He’d thus far found that assertion accurate enough. He’d been a child prodigy, a polymath, what some people called a Meteomagical genius. Now he was just mad.

  Quietly, he said, “We've expined our experience to you. Please, rete your own.”

  Nick no longer seemed frightened by Beri. His voice was calm and faintly hoarse, like someone who’d smoked for a long time. “The first time I encountered them was in the te 1990s. I was a cryptid researcher then, hunting the lizardman. You know. Wading through the Evergdes, looking for weird scat.” He smiled, self-deprecating. “I found him. For a while, I studied him like Goodall and the apes. And then one day…” Nick trailed off, shaking his head with dismay. “The Matil came for him.”

  Beri stiffened. “The Matil?”

  Nick’s expression was grim. “They’re a race of dimension-hopping aliens that live on a world ship. They’re vampires, of a sort. They use life energy–what you call magic–to run their technology. They’ve destroyed their homeworld so now they just go from universe to universe, stealing what they need.”

  “What does that have to do with Katie?” Beri swallowed hard, hoping the answer would be ‘nothing’. If they could destroy a world, what could they do to a very small woman?

  Nick shrugged. “I’m guessing she’s a magus?”

  Beri nodded once, a single tilt of his chin. “She is.”

  “There you have it. She’s got a lot of life energy to steal.”

  Dread pooled in Beri’s gut. Stealing magic was one of the worst things one person could do to another. It was painful and invasive, almost like an assault. “These Matil are using my girlfriend to power their tech?” How was it possible to take enough energy to power a civilization from one girl?

  “Not just your girlfriend. They have tons of people.” He paused. “Tons of beings. I can’t tell you how many they’ve taken from Earth alone.” He shook his head. “This is the first I’ve heard of them taking fey, but I should have expected it. I mean. The temptation of the magic alone. I bet she can run a whole fleet of ships.”

  “How do you know all this?” Beri asked. “How did you learn who they are?”

  Nick snorted, making a dismissive gesture. “I’ve talked to hundreds of eyewitnesses over the years, everybody from psychics to El Chupacabra. I’ve been to seances. I learned about the world ship from the Deer Lady, who was trying to track the Matil down to take vengeance for one woman or another.” Nick paused, shaking his head. “She never did call me back. Shame. She’s a real looker.”

  Beri wasn’t sure how to respond to that. “You’ve been present at these kidnappings, though. You’ve seen people–beings–taken firsthand.”

  Nick nodded grimly. “Yeah. When they pull out those ser guns all you can do is cover your ass and pray.” He turned a considering look on Beri. “Except you. You fought them off. How did you do that?”

  Beri snapped. A tiny bolt of lightning sizzled between his thumb and his index finger, releasing a faint smell of ozone.

  Nick’s eyes widened. “Well, yeah. I guess that’ll do it. Too bad that can’t be replicated by ymen.” He lifted his briefcase onto the table. “I’ve managed to get some pictures and footage of them over the years. Do you want to see?”

  “I do,” Beri said, too eager. “Of course I do.”

  Nick spent the afternoon showing off blurry pictures, some bck and white, some in color. There were grainy videos, each featuring the sound of hissing and bsts of bright green light. The figures were generally shadowy, usually blurred. Beri frowned carefully at all of them, running his finger over the glossy prints, hoping for anything he could use. He wanted something definitive. He wanted to hold it up to Liam’s nose. See! These are the creatures who have her! Please, help me get her back!

  Instead Beri asked, “What sort of equipment did you take these with? Don’t you have a camera with a high-speed shutter?”

  Nick gave him an ironic look askance. “You’ve seen my pictures of Bigfoot. What do you think?”

  The man had a point. “So why can’t you get a picture of these Matil?”

  “I honestly don’t know.” Nick flipped a photograph onto its face to reveal the one behind it. “As you can see, I’ve certainly tried. I think it’s some sort of disruption they cause.”

  Beri pinched the bridge of his nose. “Naturally.”

  It was a long, mostly frustrating afternoon that left Beri with more questions than answers. That night, after Nick was gone, Beri y in his bed, staring at his blue canopy through the darkness, listening to the nighttime rains as they fell. The Matil, he thought, squeezing his hands into fists so hard his nails bit his palms. The hopelessness eased, and in its pce, his heart filled with a bottomless rage. I know them now. I have a name.

  Every dark ritual started with a name.