It shows how groggy I was that I didn’t fully realize what the stag’s presence in my room meant until I was pulling a heavy wool sweater over my head.

“Oh, shit!” I said as I yanked on the sweater, making my hair stand on end in static ecstasy.

I stared at the little silver stag as it continued to tap its hoof impatiently. My knees felt wobbly, and I grabbed hold of my dresser to steady myself.

“He knows where I live,” I whispered, not sure if I was talking to the stag or to myself.

Not only did the Erlking obviously know where I lived, he’d also been able to get his little charm past all the defenses and into my room without ever raising an alarm. So much for my “safe” house.

I took a couple of deep breaths to steady myself. I wasn’t even remotely happy that the Erlking knew where I lived and could get to me here, but there was nothing I could do about it. If he could find me here, odds were he could find me anywhere. He hadn’t hurt me so far, and I tried to convince myself that his knowing my location didn’t matter.

I stuffed my feet into my favorite pair of sneakers, then looked all around my room, wondering if there was anything I should take to this meeting other than myself. Nothing jumped out at me except for an umbrella. I had no idea how far I’d have to walk to get to the Erlking’s house, and in Avalon, there was always about a fifty percent chance of rain. I grabbed it, wondering if I was going to end up needing it as a weapon before the day was through. Then I nodded at the stag.

“I’m ready,” I said.

Chapter sixteen

I held my breath as I followed the stag through my suite then into the guardroom. I could hear Finn rattling around in his kitchen, and figured he was making breakfast. I hoped the Erlking’s charm worked the way he said it did, because I was going to hate it if I ended up having to explain myself to Finn.

The stag continued into the guardroom with no hesitation, and I forced myself to follow. Finn was frying something on his hot plate—he didn’t have a stove—and he looked as awake and alert as if it were the middle of the afternoon. I kept expecting him to look up and see me, but he didn’t. The stag walked right past him to the front door, then passed through the door as if it weren’t there. I suppressed a shiver.

Keeping an eye on Finn, I eased the door open. He paid no attention, and I wondered what the chances were that this was all a dream.

I belatedly realized I should have grabbed a flashlight. The tunnels were pitch-black, and even if the stag could lead me through the dark, I’d probably die of terror before we reached the surface. I turned to duck back into the guardroom to get a flashlight.

Tap, tap, tap.

I looked at the stag, wondering if it would have the patience to wait for me—and if Finn would see me if I went back in without it. But when I took a closer look, I saw that the stag was glowing faintly, a blue-white light like a little star. It started trotting down the tunnel, its light brightening as it moved farther away from the light that poured out of the guardroom.

“This has got to be the world’s worst idea,” I muttered to myself as I eased the door closed and plunged into the darkness after the Erlking’s charm.

The stag’s glow was barely enough to guide the way. I’d seen night lights brighter than that. I walked as close to it as I could, my eyes straining in the oppressive darkness. The tunnel floor was mostly smooth, but the dark messed with my depth perception and I tripped about a million times.

When we’d been in my safe house, the stag had waited for me, however impatiently, but once we’d turned a couple corners in the tunnels, it picked up the pace. I think it knew I was fully committed to following it now, since my alternative was to try to find my way back to the safe house through the pitch-black tunnels. Even when I tripped so bad I almost did a face-plant, the stag kept going. I climbed to my feet in a hurry, desperate to stay close to my only source of light.

Eventually, we ventured out into the more commonly used tunnels with their electric lighting. I breathed a sigh of relief, even as the stag picked up its pace a little more. I didn’t need its light anymore, but I wasn’t finding the Erlking’s house on my own, so I hurried to keep up.

Avalon is a pretty weird place, but even here a tiny animated statue trotting along would attract notice, so when the stag managed to walk past people without them paying any attention, I knew its magic was working. Trying not to feel like there were neon signs pointing to me saying “fresh meat,” I continued to follow.

There weren’t a whole lot of people out at this hour, although the streets weren’t completely deserted, either. But even after we left the tunnel system, no one seemed to notice us. It was wet and drizzly out, although not enough to make me use the umbrella, which I kept shifting from hand to hand as I warmed the free hand in my pocket.

The dampness added bite to the early morning chill, and by the time the stag bounded up a flight of four stone stairs to a covered stoop, my teeth were chattering, and I suspected my lips were tinged blue. I was not looking forward to seeing what Avalon was like in the winter. But, I reminded myself cheerfully, I might not live that long anyway.

I would have liked to have taken a moment to collect myself before ringing the doorbell, but I didn’t have that chance. Before I’d even reached the top step, the door swung open. I came to a screeching halt and was lucky I didn’t fall back down the stairs and break my neck.

The Erlking was dressed a little less outlandishly than usual today, in a pair of tight-fitting black leather pants and an untucked black button-down shirt that shimmered faintly in the light. His hair was loose around his shoulders, except for two thin braids that framed his face. If he weren’t the stuff of nightmares, I’d think he was seriously hot.