We have no choice. Rogue numbers are dwindling, while the Seelie and Unseelie prosper in their castles and sprawling estates back in the faerielands.
I have no castle or estate. Nor do I have a single courtier or vassal to my name. Hell, I don’t even bear a title.
So, I do what I can to survive, living life on a precarious edge.
Damn it. Where was I again?
Right, one hundred and fifty…
As I place another gold sun onto a pile, I peer into the microscope, adding more notes to my diagram.
One dewdrop hosts a slew of magic, and it’s like peering into a miniature universe, one with a myriad of swirling galaxies and various star systems.
They blind and dazzle, so I adjust the visor on my goggles as I twist the dial on the microscope to get a closer inspection.
Breathtaking. It truly is like finding an undiscovered world, and I’m no different from a pioneer in that regard.
If only I could manipulate that unicorn’s magic somehow into fashioning myself a disguise, but a single dewdrop wouldn’t last. I would need more…
Bannog’s disguises harbour unlimited magic. No one knows how he does it, but folk say he weaves the magic into the garments with his very own hands.
Some believe he was blessed by the goddess herself to be able to perform such a delicate task. Unfortunately, if I want to get my hands on one of his rare glamours, then I’ll have to get in line. His waiting lists can be years long.
For most Fae, that’s nothing. We’re immortal and live a ridiculously long time. But I don’t have the luxury of time.
One of these days, I am going to get caught. Fae who are captured and imprisoned by humans don’t last long.
However, there may be someone who can help me jump the queue. Stannog, perhaps—Bannog’s sour-faced cousin. He owns a tavern just west of the mountain.
I haven’t given up on the necklace, though. Not yet. When I finally get a disguise, I can sell it on the human black market and get that five hundred.
Then, once I’ve accrued enough money, I can set sail and live out the rest of my immortal life on a deserted island where no one can bother me ever again.
Maybe I will make myselfkingof that island.
One can dream.
With a steady hand, I add another coin to the pile. My magic keeps them intact, for now, but there will come a day when I won’t even have a single drop left in my veins. I may even becomemortal…
Perish the thought.
Footsteps echo down the tunnel, and I heave a sigh of frustration. Just when I found a moment’s peace.
My claws retract as her honeysuckle scent finds its way to my nose. Sometimes Iabhorthese heightened senses. It makes ignoring her all the harder.
She steps into the cave. I really should have made more of an effort at hiding this place. These aremyprivate quarters.
Her sweet scent drifts my way, and I shut my eyes, ignoring the roaring rush in my head.
Does she have any idea what she does to me? Probably not. She’s as gullible as she looks.
I rein my beast in, willing my claws back inside my gloves.
“Oh… I thought I would find you here,” she remarks casually, and I roll my eyes.
I speak through gritted teeth, “Yes, so you have. Now feel free to leave again. I’m quite busy. Your foolish talk can wait.”
She falters at my dismissal, and I regard her from the corner of my eye. Her form wilts.
