“Yes,” he said, with a tiny smile. “It is.”

“Why are you telling me this? Why am I here?”

“I’m telling you because you need to know, and because you’re the first child of Oberon to walk here since I claimed my throne.” He shook his head. “There was a mortal woman here once. But that was years ago, and there have been none of any fae line but the Cait Sidhe. Bringing you here would be treason if I weren’t King.”

“But you are King.”

“I suppose that means it’s just foolish. Now come.” He grabbed my hand, pulling me down the hall. My footsteps echoed on the marble. His made no sound.

We passed through an arched doorway into a hall with walls of golden wood. Tall windows were spaced every few feet. I glanced through one into a ballroom full of broken, mismatched furniture. The angle of the view was somehow wrong, like the rooms had been shoved together through a bend in space. Tybalt pulled me through another door and into a massive room with a domed ceiling. It looked like a church. A pile of wooden benches was heaped against one wall, adding credence to the theory.

I pulled my hand free and stopped, staring. “Oh, sweet rowan . . . ”

The floor was obscured by dozens of makeshift pallets, each one holding an unmoving Cait Sidhe. Some of the Cait Sidhe were in human form. Others were cats, and more were caught between shapes, blending human and feline features in ways that were simply wrong. The only sounds were groans and muffled whimpers, and the air was filled with the stench of sickness.

My life has left me far too familiar with death. I know what it looks like, what it smells like; the flat, tinny taste of it. And there was death in the air all around us.

“This is what I wanted you to see,” Tybalt said. “Now do you understand why I’m willing to break my own laws?”

I gave him a startled look. He looked back, some desperate, unexpressed hope in his eyes. I didn’t know what he wanted from me. I just had to try to give it to him.

I crossed to the nearest prone Cait Sidhe and knelt, pressing my fingers against his throat. His skin was hot, and his pulse was irregular enough to feel like it might stop at any moment. I studied his face, noting the tabby pattern on his cheeks and forehead. His features were rough-hewn, lacking the beauty of the Cait Sidhe nobles: he was a back-alley scrapper, not a show cat. My breath caught. “Gabriel?”

“And Louis, and half the rest of my guard,” Tybalt said. “This is just one room. We’ve filled three.”

“Oh, oak and ash.” I straightened, looking around. I could see at least twenty Cait Sidhe, from men Gabriel’s size to kittens no bigger than my fist. Three rooms like this? That made at least sixty—and that was just the sick ones. I hadn’t realized there were so many Cait Sidhe in the Bay Area. The fae cats guard their numbers carefully, but still. How big was Tybalt’s kingdom?

I crossed to a pallet occupied by a white cat and two tiny tabby kittens. She roused herself enough to hiss when I reached for the smaller kitten. I stopped, hand outstretched, and said, “I’m not going to hurt your babies.”

The cat looked at me before turning to Tybalt.

“It’s all right, Opal,” he said. “I trust her.”

She flattened her ears at that, but didn’t stop me as I scooped the kitten into my hand and stroked it with one finger, noting the unsteadiness of its breath. It panted, tiny legs making swimming motions against my palm. It was fighting to hold on, but I didn’t know how much longer it could last.

“What happened?” I asked, looking up.

Tybalt reached over and took the kitten, cradling it against his chest. It relaxed, nuzzling his sleeve. “Someone poisoned the food supply,” he said. “The nobility hunts; our subjects are fed, either from our kills or from supplemental food we purchase from local shops. They eat better and with more dignity when they hunt for themselves, but no one goes hungry. It’s part of my duty as King.”

“Who eats the food that you provide?”

“My guards, when they’re on duty; they don’t have time to hunt. Nursing mothers, the young, the injured. All the weakest and most vulnerable of my subjects.”

“And someone poisoned them.”

“Yes.” His expression was pained. “The nursing children collapsed first. We didn’t know why. By the time we understood, even the strongest had succumbed.”

“The children . . . ” My breath caught again. “Is Raj all right? Is he here?”

He shook his head. “Raj will be King someday. He hunts for himself.”

I nodded, not bothering to conceal my relief as I reached down and ran a hand over Opal’s side. She stayed limp, not reacting. I reached for the second kitten, and froze, hand still outstretched. “Tybalt?”

“What is it?” He crouched, putting the first kitten next to its mother. I indicated its sibling. His face went blank. “Oh. I see.”

I bit my lip. “Is it . . . ?”

Opal raised her head, eyes half-open and pleading. Tybalt shook his head and rose, folding his hands around the kitten as he lifted it away from her. “Opal, I . . . I’m sorry. I regret your loss.” Opal moaned and closed her eyes, putting her head down.

I rose, putting my hand on Tybalt’s shoulder. Not looking at me, he said, “She and Gabriel married two hundred years ago; this was their first litter. They may never have another, even if they both survive. Two hundred years to produce four kittens, all born alive and perfect.”

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered.

“I’ve lost six of my people since last night. I don’t know how many will follow. How can I tell Gabriel his children are gone? How can I claim to be a good King to Opal when I provided the meat that killed her family?” He raised his head, pupils narrowed to thin slits. “I don’t know how to stop this. I don’t know what to do.”

I didn’t think before I acted; I just put my arms around his shoulders, squeezing before I said, “I don’t know, either. That doesn’t matter. We’re going to stop this. I can’t bring back the dead, but I can help you avenge them.”

He stared at me, hands still cupping the kitten. I reddened and let go, stepping away. Voice soft, he said, “If you do this, I’ll owe you a debt I can never repay.”

“You won’t owe me a thing. I refuse to believe there’s more than one person targeting the people I care about. This is my fight.” I looked around the room again, resisting the urge to comfort him. “Six dead. Two more rooms like this. Is any of the meat left? I was getting ready to go have Walther analyze some samples when you called. I can ask him to do a little more.”