Page 17 of Fae Trials

“What did your friends do with my sister?” I asked. Sicily couldn’t have completed the bargain. The dark faeries must have taken her away out of spite.

His lips spread into a pained grin of those horrible teeth. “My brothers. They believe in a life for a life.”

Terror seized my throat in its clawed grip, cutting off my air. I forced out the words, “She’s dead?”

“Worse,” he said with a gurgle.

“You, there,” shouted one of the peacekeepers from the edge of the clearing. “Put your hands up.”

I held onto his leather jacket as though he would disappear if I let go. “Did they take her to the Mound? Which level?”

“My blood is on your hands, and I am close to death,” he rasped.

I snatched my hands away from his lapels and wiped my wet fingers on my jeans. “Tell me where to find her, and I’ll take you to a healer—”

“With my dying breath, I curse you,” he strained out the words. “My destiny is now yours.”

“Wait…” Whatever I was going to say died in the back of my throat.

The dark faerie heaved a breath and closed his eyes. Silver tendrils of power rose from between his lips, reminding me of the will-o’-the-wisps that meandered through the dark to lure travelers into bogs.

I scrambled back on my hands through the scorched earth, trying to dodge the mist, but my leg skidded over a wet patch, and I fell into the spongy surface of an oversized mushroom.

In the blink of an eye, the silvery mist surged into my chest, stealing my air.

“Stop—” I reached out at the faerie, trying to tell him to cease the attack, but he was unmoving and probably dead.

Power swirled through my insides, tying everything into painful knots. My lungs shriveled into my frantic heart, which clattered against my ribs.

I tried to suck in a breath, but it caught in the back of my throat. Was this the curse? To die painfully by suffocation just as he had been killed by iron? My eyes bulged, and I scratched at my throat, gasping for air.

Pain lanced through my shoulder blades, making me arch my back.

I tried to scream, but no words came out. I tried twisting around to wave at the approaching peacekeepers, to beg for mouth-to-mouth, but the mist filled my vision with silver.

A few frantic heartbeats later, everything went black.

Chapter 6

I’m not sure how much time passed, but when I regained my senses, I no longer lay on the hard earth but felt like I was floating on clouds. Clouds encased in silk. Mrs. Yates from the magazine stall owned a handkerchief of that fabric. It had felt like the petals caressing my skin—just like this luxurious, soft surface.

“She’s awake, sir,” said a male voice.

My eyes snapped open, and I tried pulling myself upright, but bone-deep fatigue weighted my limbs to the bed. Instead, I twisted my neck and blinked my eyes into focus.

Two faerie guardsmen clad in pristine, white uniforms peered at me from beyond a set of bars. One of them wore the same kind of tall hat I’d seen on the guards accompanying the princes to Saltbay Port, and the other wore a flat cap.

I glanced around, taking in the white walls, matching ceiling, and luxury mattress. This was some kind of faerie prison, but why wasn’t I lying on the sawdust floor of the human jailhouse?

“Bargaining with humans is against the lore, young lady,” said the one with the flat cap.

I shook my head, trying to dislodge a fog of confusion. “That can’t be right—”

“Don’t deny it.” He wagged a finger through the bars. “The peacekeepers found you passed out in the middle of a bargaining circle and brought you here.”

“What on earth…” My brows drew together, and pieces from the night before rearranged themselves in my mind like an incomplete jigsaw puzzle. A horny centaur, gunfire, a dark faerie with serrated teeth… I rubbed my temples, fighting through the fog. What was I missing?

It hit me like a bolt of lightning to the heart.