But a deeper part of my soul knew nobody cared enough for me to dig through the caverns of the Kahunamons after all this time. Unlike the pathetic humans—
He tipped his head as if my question confused him. “I am here to serve.”
I stepped closer to him, channeling the intimidation that used to accompany my power. “What does that mean?”
He did not fall back nor drop his gaze. “You rubbed my lamp, so my power belongs to you. I am bound by the magic of my station to use that power to grant your desires three times. After that, you will never see me again. Rubbing the lamp will no longer have any effect.”
My eyes fell to the lamp I’d nearly kicked back in the river. Could it be my salvation? “Any desire?”
He shrugged. “Within reason. My magic cannot create or destroy life—”
My thoughts raced to the treacherous humans who had trapped me. “Can you arrange circumstances so that someone who will not swear fealty to me will die in a method that does not require your direct use of magic to destroy their life?”
He nodded slowly. “Yes. But I cannot affect another person’s heart, mind, or emotions. Those belong to their own realm of magic.”
I studied his face for a moment and then directed his gaze to the swirling vortex of magic-infused water that trapped me under the mountains. “Can you get me out of this cave?”
He nodded, and I remembered my language. Isolation had made me sloppy. “Not just out of this cave, but out of the Kahunamon Mountains, with my entire body safely on the sun-bled slopes of the foothills?”
He scoffed. “Child’s play. Any fae could do that. I wield powers that could change the journeys of the stars in the skies. Choose your desires carefully.”
“I don’t need stars. I need vengeance.” I picked up the lamp and held it in front of my chest. The metal had cooled to a comfortable temperature. If this worked, I would not drop it so quickly again. “I desire freedom, as I just described. If you are truly my slave, make it happen.”
The lamp warmed again as smoke filled the little cavern. Placing all my hope in a stranger who withheld his name and knew nothing about me grated at my independence, but if he held a whisper of a chance at freedom, revenge, and the power I once held, it would be worth it.
Smoke filled my vision until the last thing I saw was the lamp-bound fae bowing his head again. But this time, he dropped his eyes.
Chapter 2: Andar
My new master was too broken to command the power I controlled. Her pretty grey eyes betrayed her—they held too much anger to think clearly and too much fear to make hard decisions. Her weakness would be my key to freedom.
In exchange for that key, I would protect her as long as our paths overlapped. I made the vow silently, with only myself as a witness, and bowed. I couldn’t tell her out loud—she would never agree if she knew I intended to use her pain to trick her into granting my freedom.
Smoke filled the icy cavern, and my bond with the lamp simultaneously unleashed magic and constrained me to use it to fulfill her request. I tapped into the volcanic energy deep beneath the mountains that trapped us and nudged it, ever so slightly, just enough to weaken the fragile crust that carried these peaks. As I bowed, I surrounded us with a protective shield and pinned it to the floor of the cavern.
I channeled the tectonic forces below us until they lifted us up, up through layers of basalt, andesite, and obsidian. Icicles crashed toward us and then fell harmlessly off my shield. I cracked rocks—and then ice—above our heads, making way for our small, protected bubble to travel through layers of mountain until we burst into the fresh air above the mighty Kahunamons.
I stepped behind her and gripped her upper arms, securing her so we both stood with my shield wrapped tighter around us. We slid down the slope we’d emerged on, as easily as a seal sliding on ice, but we stood upright, balanced by my strength and magic. Stones, plants, and other debris bounded off my shield. Snow flowed behind us, splashing up like the wake behind a ship on high seas.
My master’s arms trembled, and her breathing grew ragged, as if she wasn’t experienced in flying over miles of ice-covered mountains at break-neck speed in a bubble of protective magic.
Or maybe it was a case of spending too much time under a mountain in a tiny cavern. I shook my head. I’d spent centuries in a tiny lamp, and I balanced just fine.
Gravity pulled us down the mountain, and I let us follow the natural contours of the hills—until we glided to the edge of a cliff with an abrupt drop that would have sent us catapulting for hundreds of feet into the air.
I did not think my master could handle such a propulsion of her body, so I seized my protective barrier with magic and stopped us at the edge of the cliff. I released her upper arms but miscalculated her balance—she fell to the stone on her hands and knees, scraping the knuckles that refused to let go of my lamp.
Her ragged breath pricked some remnant of my heart I hadn’t felt in ages. Letting her fall had not been very good protection. I should have kept her upright while she caught her breath.
She staggered to her feet and glared death into my eyes. “What is wrong with you?” she hissed.
I bowed but refused to admit my regret. I was not weak. “Nothing, Master. I fulfilled your request.”
She waved a hand in the air, pointing from the ledge we stood on to the drop-off hundreds of feet below us. “This is not the foothills I requested.”
I stepped closer to her. “Are you not fae?” I pointed at the cliff we stood on and the ridgeline it joined. “These could be called the slopes of the foothills.” I tipped my chin at the sun. “Is light not bleeding on us? If you did not want your request to be misinterpreted, you should have spoken more plainly.”
She clenched her teeth so tight the little muscles in her jaw knotted. A means to an end, I reminded myself. Her weakness was the key to my freedom, and I could not grow sympathy or compassion for the trouble I brought her. I could only offer her my protection for the short time our paths intersected.
