He shows me his jagged teeth. “Do I look like the sort who cares about some forgotten kingdom, boy?Fivepieces. That’s my final offer.”
My jaw ticks, and then I resist the urge to punch him in that crooked cucumber of a nose. I plead my case further. “They lived on the back of a giant sea monster. Does that amount to anything?”
I must appear desperate, but I don’t care; I need the money.
“Two gold pieces,” he growls.
I dig my claws in that little bit more, gouging the rotten wood of his worktop. Bloody old codger. He’s just asking for a black eye, yet his mind is set. Two gold pieces.
Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut, but it looks as if the swindler gotswindledin the end.
Poetic justice, I guess.
The only reason that necklace was in my possession in the first place was because I tricked some gullible girl into thinking she owed me. I’m getting exactly what I deserve.
But I still stand by my belief. That sigil is worth at least five hundred gold pieces. More than enough to buy my safe passage across the Haunted Sea.
Ivy’s face rises up before me, and I blink her away. It’s as if she’s burned into my retinas, because every time I close my eyes, there she is, smiling at me.
I recall our conversation in the tunnel, and I just don’t understand why she’d been so civil with me.
I have been nothing butuncivil, yet she offered me a sweet, dimpled smile all the same.
I know what she’s doing.
She won’t charm me so easily. I’m as stubborn as solid brick.
I snatch the necklace back from the goblin’s withered hand, showing him my back. “You can shove your two gold pieces up yourbunghole.”
He scoffs. “Suit yourself. And a word of advice—don’t go walking around these parts carrying that humanfilth like some good-for-nothing scallywag. Unless you want to get lynched. Also, take a bath. Youstinkof human.”
The goblin slides the shutter over his window, and once he’s out of sight, I sniff my coat. Ivy’s honeysuckle scent clings to the leather. How is that possible? We’ve barely spent any time together.
I glance over my shoulder. The goblin’s shop sits snugly inside a muddy hillock, one hidden by thick moss and craggy rock.
He's the closest pawnbroker this side of the mountain. There are others, of course, but I’m too tired to search for them now; I just want to head home and kick my legs up on the table.
Besides, Ivy will be missing me. Mustn’t keep her waiting.
I scowl at the wreckage of the cave, finding a quiet spot in the shadows where no one can see me.
The moment I returned home, I ransacked the entire mountain from top to bottom, but in the end, my efforts yielded no results.
No scrap of gold whatsoever.
I still don’t have enough. I pick up a vase, smashing it against the wall. Maybe I could sell a few of my stolen goods. Or perhaps I could go down south and pilfer more towns.
But then I’d have to leave Ivy alone in the mountain. Not that she’s any concern of mine, but I’d be breaking the terms of our contract if I left her here to defend herself, and I refuse to be in debt to a human.
No matter how pretty she may be…
I promised her sanctuary and protection, and to go back on my word would break the ancient lore of my people.
Besides, human treasure is worthless to the Fae. They look down on anything crafted by the hands of men. I may have to search for alternative methods of travel. One way or another, I will be getting on a boat by winter’s end.
And I know just the Fae who can help me get there. Bannog the Bold.
He lives in a village just west of the mountain. He’s a clothier by trade—he weaves cloaks and glamours of the finest quality, and the best part—they are completely permanent.
