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He peers at me through his dark blue lashes. “No?”
“Nope.” I have what I’m looking for so I fold the map, shove it into the back pocket of my jeans, and take off toward the cliffs in the distance. Ferns slap against my thighs, the mud squelching beneath my boots. Tiny creatures similar to sprites but smaller flutter up from the dense foliage. The hum of mosquitoes three times the normal size stirs the air.
Of course this place would have smaller sprites and bigger mosquitoes.
The prince catches up to me. “Care to share this plan of yours, Princess?”
I flash a mischievous grin. Let him see how it feels to have no idea what’s going on for a change.
I duck beneath a curtain of hanging moss and trudge straight through a shallow swamp, water sloshing around my boots. A sulfurous, muddy smell clogs my nose. Green algae and lily pads float on the surface of the brackish water.
Flashes of movement catch my eye below.
He grabs my arm, the cold from his fingers breaching the thin fabric of my sweater. A zip of electricity shoots through my flesh, like static electricity but more powerful. “You are aware there are creatures in these woods who would love to feast on a human?”
Yanking my arm away, I push forward, boots splashing loudly.
“Yes, splash,” he mutters. “Maybe they’ll hear you. Good plan.”
“Afraid, Prince?”
“Afraid, no. Why would I be? This swamp only hosts at least ninety-nine things that can kill you, yet we’re armed with a . . . flute.”
When he puts it that way . . .
Yep, this place sucks.
I quicken my pace. The weight of his dark gaze falls heavy over my back, but he follows quietly. When we get to the first waterfall, I pull out my map again. Satisfied, I nod to a high cluster of mountainous ridges in front of us. They’re dark gray quartz, nearly black, spotted with trees and thorny bushes.
The climb to the top is a lesson in pain. By the time I scramble over the side, panting, sweat burns my eyeballs and pastes my shirt to my back.
The prince waits for me on a rock, his entire beautiful body stretched out as he lazily swats at two persistent mosquitoes the size of apples.
“You know,” he says with a dark grin. “If your plan is to throw me off the cliff, there’s a problem.”
“What’s that?”
“I can fly.”
Ignoring the urge to lie face down on the rocky ground, I struggle to my feet. “Holy Fae ears, Prince. Was that a . . . joke?”
“I do make them, on occasion.”
“What, in between being a giant asshole?”
His jaw clenches. “Okay, I deserve that.”
“No, you deserve being thrown off a mountain naked into a swarm of fire ants.”
He flicks up an eyebrow. “Well that’s mildly worse than being bathed in taco innards.”
“Is that another joke?” I say. “Two jokes in a day. Someone call a healer, there’s something wrong with you.”
Turning my back on him, I take stock of our position. We’re on a large, flat area of the ridge overlooking the swamps below, which from here look like a blanket of bushy green treetops. Above us, waterfalls feed into a small basin of clear blue water, their spray forming countless mini rainbows. Without the cover of trees, the sun’s glare scorches our skin.
Sprawling out on a flat outcropping, I close my eyes, enjoying every minute of the sun.
When I open my eyes again, the prince sits beside me, his knees splayed wide. He’s wearing ridiculous riding pants with the leather cut-outs for the knee.
