Instead, an invisible force pinned her arms to her sides. Her gaze narrowed on the golden-haired Elvyn’s hand, still curled in that strange gesture.
Valorre reared back on his hind legs, kicking out with his front hooves, but the same fae male extended his other hand. With the same gesture, he forced Valorre back to all fours. The unicorn bucked and thrashed, but it was no use. It was as if he’d been harnessed by an invisible bridle.
The other two Elvyn flanked the first. The one with umber skin and dark hair stepped forward and spoke in more words Cora couldn’t comprehend. Yet she noted the placating nature of his tone. Unlike the golden-haired fae, whose lips were peeled back in a sneer, blue eyes cast in a glower, or the copper-haired fae who simply looked amused, the dark-haired Elvyn had a much gentler energy. Cora’s panic was almost strong enough to drown out the emotions of the three, but she could still bet which of the fae she’d have the best chance of appealing to.
He spoke again, slower this time.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying,” she said, voice edged with hysteria. She tried to focus on deepening her breaths, on rooting herself to the earth beneath her feet, but that only reminded her that she was in another godsdamnedrealm. Whatever the hell that was supposed to mean. And she was still trapped under the unseen force the golden fae was using.
The dark-haired fae released a sigh and lifted a hand. He crossed two of his fingers and slid them through the air in a horizontal line. “What are you?” he said, and this time Cora could understand him.
“Are you human?” asked the golden fae. His words made sense now too, but she realized they didn’t match the shape of his lips. Perhaps the dark-haired fae had cast a translation enchantment. Was that something the Elvyn could do? All she knew of Elvyn magic was that they utilized what the Forest People had called the Magic of the Sky. Unlike the Faeryn, who revered the earth and lived in harmony with nature, the Elvyn were said to value beauty, art, music, and luxury. She knew the Elvyn specialized in an Art called weaving—the very magic Morkai tried to emulate with his blood tapestries—but she didn’t know what it entailed.
“I’m…I’m human,” she finally managed to say.
The copper-haired Elvyn dipped his chin at her lower body. Now that he was near, she could see an array of bronze freckles dotting his tan skin. “What’s on her arms?”
The golden fae flicked his wrist, and she found her arm thrust suddenly forward. She winced as the invisible force twisted the limb, yanking it at an uncomfortable angle until her inked forearm showed clearly.
“Fanon,” the dark-haired fae said, casting a stern look at the golden fae, “show a little restraint. We don’t know if she’s guilty.”
The wordFanonremained untranslated, so she assumed that must be the golden fae’s name.
“If she’s human, she’s guilty,” Fanon said. He folded his arms over his chest in a slightly more relaxed posture. The pressure eased from her forearm, returning it to a natural angle. She expected to be freed from his invisible magic altogether, but her arms simply snapped back to her sides. Even though he was no longer actively making that strange gesture, both she and Valorre were still trapped under his magic’s influence.
“But those looked like Faeryninsigmora,” said the stout fae. Belatedly Cora realized his lips had formed the last two words, matching up with what she’d heard.
“She’s not Faeryn, Garot,” said Fanon.
Despite the disgust and trepidation wafting off the three strangers, Cora saw an opportunity to forge some kind of understanding between them. “You’re right, they are Faeryninsigmora. Where I’m from, I lived with a group of people who are Faeryn descendants. They took me in?—”
“There are Faeryn descendants in your realm?” the copper-haired Garot asked, his green eyes alight with renewed curiosity.
Fanon and the dark-haired fae exchanged a brief look. When Fanon returned his gaze to hers, it was no longer quite so cold. His throat bobbed before he spoke. “Are there any Elvyn survivors in your world? Or…descendants?”
Cora sensed a subtle spark of hope in him. Her heart sank. Why did he have to ask that? She knew her answer would only disappoint him. “I’ve never met anyone of Elvyn descent.”
Fanon’s dark glower returned, and with it came a string of clipped words that remained untranslated. Based on his tone, she could only assume they were expletives.
“How did you come here?” the dark-haired fae said. He was now the only one whose name she didn’t know. His eyes were a ruby-tinted brown, and the way they crinkled at the corners set her at ease. She got the distinct impression that he was the eldest of the three, despite their equally youthful appearances. Somehow, all appeared to be both young and ancient at the same time, but the dark-haired fae held a weight to his energy, one that bore centuries of life. Of wisdom.
She realized his question still hung between them. She was about to confess what had happened—or at least try to put it into words—when Valorre’s voice entered her mind.
Tell them I brought you here. Anxiety rippled from him.Do not tell them about your magic.
She glanced at him, saw his muscles quivering against his invisible restraints.Why?
Because itwasmy fault. I invaded your thoughts with my memory of home. I took a step and brought us here using your traveling magic. But…more than that, I’ve come to learn the value of a lie. If you do not lie, I fear…something. I don’t remember what, but I fear it. They will not like your magic.
He sounded so uncertain in her mind. So unlike the overly proud creature he normally was.
She returned her gaze to the dark-haired fae. “Valorre brought me.”
“What is…Valorre?” Garot asked.
“My unicorn companion.”
Fanon scoffed. “The unicorn is your companion?”
