If the cold doesn’t get to her first, then the wicked denizens of this forest surely will.
I spy a glint of gold around her slender neck, and my resolve firms. If there’s one thing faeries love more than a fair maid, it’s jewellery. I’ll take care of her…for a price.
The girl is coming home with me.
The pot bubbles and spits on the stove, sending clouds of vapour across the small, dark cave. It may be cramped and dark to some, but it has been my sanctuary for many years. I personally think the stalagmites give it a homely touch.
Or are theystalactites?
Maybe the girl will know the difference when she finally wakes.
She’s still sleeping in the other cave, and my heart flaps in my chest at the thought, making me stir my spoon faster.
She’s the first visitor I’ve ever had in this cave…
I straighten, then I swallow, using my cravat to wipe the steam that wets my face.
What do I do? Should I make tea? I’m sure I have an old, dusty set of porcelain lying around somewhere.
She groans, and I snap my head around, spying a shadow along the far wall.
She’s awake.
Shit.
Suddenly, she gives a loud, shrill gasp, and then everything falls completely silent—well, all except the pounding of my heart.
Time may as well be frozen.
My skin breaks out in a cold sweat when I hear those soft footsteps, and my eyes roam the cave, noticing the dirt and grime. Cobwebs drape across the walls, and I curse.
Yet, they have nothing on me: the most frightening entity in this entire cave.
She’s coming closer, so I grab my cloak from the back of a chair, using it to mask my face. Then I find my gloves, pulling them up to my elbows. I even retract my claws so as not to startle the poor thing.
Finally, she steps into the cave, and I feel those big eyes boring into my spine. I don’t dare look over my shoulder; I’m afraid to see what kind of face she’s making.
She does nothing else but stare, and the suspense iskillingme. One of us must break the ice, or we could be at this forever.
She speaks, “Who…who are you?”
The sound of her sweet, dulcet voice catches me off guard, and I’m at a loss for words. My mouth dries, and I lose the ability to breathe.
What’s happening to me?
Somehow, I muster enough strength to offer her my hospitality. “Please…take a seat.”
She doesn’t move an inch, so I angle my head, examining her from the corner of my eye.
Maybe she didn’t hear me.
Drawing a breath, I say with a little more force, “I said, take a seat.”
She flinches. So much for being amicable. It’s just hard to speak gently when you have a rasp to your voice.
One second passes by. And then two by the time she whispers, “You…saved my life.”
My heart skips a beat, and I drop the spoon, gazing at the wall before me. I did save her, and I’m still pondering why.
