Strangeness and Charm: The Courts of the Feyre by Mike Shevdon Page A

of the houses opposite. There was a low conversation and then silence again. I stared at the windows of the houses facing the back of the row, noting where shadows moved at windows or curtains twitched. There were either a lot of policemen or some nosey neighbours. Probably both.
      With everyone watching it was going to be more obvious if I went through the back door of the house, even concealed by glamour. I could ask Tate to create a distraction, but that would only attract more notice. I wanted the attention at the front where all the police cars were. I didn't want them raising the alarm and drawing attention to the rear of the building because they thought something might be happening inside. If I was going to bring my target back with me I needed a way in, and a way out. I looked again at the backs of the houses. The back doors, like the front doors, went in pairs along the row, separated by high fences.
      The extensions at the back were two stories high. I moved quietly to the door of the neighbouring house and listened. In all likelihood, if anyone was home, they would have either been moved out by the police or told to stay indoors and out of sight. I wondered which.
      I pointed to the door, and Tate nodded and pointed to the ground where he was, indicating that he would stay and make sure no one disturbed me.
      A hand on the back door released the locks and I eased the door open, listening for sounds of occupation. The door led into a white-painted kitchen with a very modern range cooker. I closed the door behind me and listened again. There were sounds from the front of the house, but that was probably coming from the road. I crept through the hall, seeing the blue flashes from the emergency vehicles refracted through the glass in the front door. There was a coat-rack, mostly empty, and post on the doormat from earlier in the day.
      Taking that as a positive sign I slipped upstairs and listened again on the first floor. The sound of approaching sirens had stopped which either meant that they were not headed this way or that whoever had been making all that noise had arrived and sirens were no longer necessary. I hoped for the former, but suspected the latter.
      Reinforcing the glamour, I went quickly up a second set of stairs that looked like they had been added to reach the loft conversion. It was decorated for a child's room, posters of comic heroes and video games. There was a front window, which I avoided, and a back one that looked out over the flat roof of the rear extension, which was what I'd been hoping for.
      With my glamour locked tight, I let myself out of the upper window onto the flat roof and moved quickly across the open space, leaping the gap to the next house. This was the one next to my target, so I kept the momentum and leapt again, relying on my glamour to conceal my movements. I knew that they would be watching the back door and that I had to trust my glamour to turn their attention away from the rooftop and me.
      On the roof above the extension of the house I kept low until I could peek into the window identical to the one I had exited. My neck prickled as if there were cross-hairs trained on the back of my head. I ignored it, trusting to my magic to conceal me.
      The room was similarly furnished for a child – from the pink hairband on the unmade bed and the brushes and combs on the dresser, I'd guess it was for a girl. There was nothing in the file that mentioned children, and for most fey child-bearing was not an option, but this child could be from a different relationship, and was probably safely at school. Even so, I watched the room as I used my power to trip the window catch and quietly slide up the sash window.
      As soon as I raised the window I knew something was wrong. There was a smell I dimly recognised, a foetid odour of something bad. My sword was naked in my hand, its weight reassuring, before I slid across the window ledge and into the room. I