For a moment, I just stared. Not because of the hovering in midair thing. Levitation charms aren’t exactly rare, although using them in full view of norms is a no-no. But human laws aren’t so easy to apply to a prince of the fey, and anyway, that wasn’t the problem. No, the problem was that this particular prince hadn’t stuck his charm on a chair, a bookcase or a rug à la Aladdin. No, he’d stuck it on Slava. Which meant that both of them were about to be way. But Æsubrand obviously didn’t know enough about human charms to realize that. Or that he would need a propulsion system, or at least a good push, if he wanted to go anywhere. Which he hadn’t gotten because he’d been too busy kicking me in the head. Leaving them stranded—for the moment. I stopped staring up at them and started looking around the office, hoping for a grappling hook—preferably one attached to an M16. But I guess Slava kept the weapons elsewhere, because I didn’t see one. Of course, there was another option. “Pull us in when I grab him,” I told Marlowe, who had just staggered up behind me. “Grab who?” he rasped, and then stopped, staring in disbelief at the insanity outside the window.“Æsubrand,” I said shortly, jerking down the office blinds and stripping off the cord. And thankfully, Slava’s impressively tall windows extended in here, and they had cords to match. “What? There are fey now?” Marlowe demanded, outraged. And I had to admit, it did seem a little unfair. “Looks that way,” I said and threw myself out the window. I ignored the stream of cursing from behind me because I had about a second to time this right or I’d be a greasy spot on the sidewalk.