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Which means I’m going to have to outsmart him.
But how?
As I go, my racing thoughts turn to the last time I was running for my freedom in the Shadow Realm. I was with Morgan, and I’d just spotted Vale and Coal, two Siúcra guards, in the distance. Knowing they were caught, Vale called out for us to stop. We didn’t. We took off and Morgan eventually saved us by weaving shadows for us to hide in. Of course, we jumped out of that frying pan only to land in a whole other fire. Literally. The next day, without meaning to, we totally fell into one of the redcap’s pit traps.
Looking back on it, it should’ve been obvious. Nearly every inch of the Cursed woods is covered in ice or frozen ground. The large patch of purple-y grass should’ve tipped us off, though we fell for it, hook, line, and sinker. I mean, the grass covered a hole more than ten feet deep. How stupid were we?
Or me, really, since I’m the one who stepped on it first.
We couldn’t find a fleasc since we’ve been in the Shadow Realm. Can my shitty luck finally turn? Can I find another trap?
Here goes nothing.
Instead of trying to outrun Grimly, I start watching my every step instead.
Please, please, please, pleaseplease—
I’m huffing. Out of breath. It’s one thing to go for a jog, but another entirely to run at this speed for as long as I am while adrenaline pushes me forward.
Come on. There has to be one. If I know that greedy redcap, he probably has traps laid out all over Faerie. The Faerie Market is nomadic, traveling from the Seelie Court to the Unseelie Court. The Shadow Realm is so dark, it’s gotta be perfect pickings for idiots like me who get lost in these woods.
Just when I’m about to give up hope, right as I’m wondering why the hell I came up with this plan instead of running back to Morgan’s cottage to get help from the others… it happens.
I see one. I pump my fist in the air. It actually worked!
Okay. Now to make sure it’s a trap.
I swivel around, searching for—
Yes!
There’s a rock about the size of a golf ball near my foot. Or maybe it’s a chunk of ice. I don’t know. Don’t care. I grab it and immediately toss it at the large, suspicious-looking pile of grass.
The grass immediately falls. Huh. At least that answers my question. No matter what, the trap would’ve given out beneath me or Morgan. It’s that sensitive.
That deep, too. I peek down. I don’t know what the redcap was trying to catch with this one, but it’s even deeper than the one that we fell into. The walls are as smooth, so I know Grimly won’t be able to climb out again.
It’s freaking perfect.
I scream, just in case. Now that I’ve set my trap, I need Grimly to fall for it. I could hope he’d follow his nose, but what if he left and decided to ambush me again later?
Nope. I have to finish this now.
I just hope his nose isn’t too sensitive. It won’t help if he tracks me down instead of figuring I fell ass-first into the hole myself. I think about it for a second, then shrug off my new shadow cloak. I throw that in the hole after the rock. Hopefully he’ll follow my scent on that, add that to my scream, and figure I’m stuck.
Crouching low, praying that the dangerous faerie folk lurking in the woods don’t come after me now that I’m even more vulnerable, I hide behind the nearest, thickest tree I can find.
I’m just in time. For once, luck is actually on my side. The gnome approaches from the opposite direction, stomping forward as if sure that I can’t run away from him again. I watch as his head moves to and fro, his long nose up in the air while searching for my scent.
He pauses—my heart just about stops—before he lowers his chin, focusing on the open pit a few feet in front of him.
“Ah, girly,” he says, way too gleefully. “Shouldn’t have run from ol’ Grimly. You had to know he’d find you in the end.”
I hold my breath, waiting as he moves to the edge of the pit. He looks down. “I’ll get you out.”
That’s my cue. Before he can realize that I’m not in there, I rise up from my hiding place and rush toward him.
“No you fucking won’t,” I snap as I place my hands against his back and shove him as hard as I can.
