We aren’t the first to die here.
5
Cillian
Idon’t really like the way she thinks. It’s too bleak. And possibly true. “Only if our captor has fae blood.”
Her skin pales and she turns a full circle. The skin on my arms prickles.
“Right…and what are the odds of that?” Flick says.
I have no idea. “Definitely male?”
“Yeah. Well, ninety percent sure.”
“So it’s either a rider whose lost his way home and his mind.” I would’ve given it to him if he’d asked. “Or it’s a banished fae whose made it through the outer realms to here with the hope of stealing a necklace.”
“We aren’t the first people he’s killed. I see at least two other human skulls.” She points at what look to be smooth rocks. It takes a moment before the shadows give up their secrets and I see an eye socket. Now I’ve spotted one, the other bones become obvious.
Flick bends over and picks up a rock. She tosses it to me.
I catch it. It’s smooth and white and part of a bone. I let it drop back to the sand. “We should get out of here.”
“Yeah,” she says. I’d rather she was fighting me than agreeing.
It takes a few tries before we figure out how to walk without tripping over the rope, and it’s not a quick. The rope is too short to be held easily and too long to drag.
We aren’t the first people our captor has brought here.
And now he’s gone to faery.
Flick’s jaw is set. “What were you doing out here?”
“Hunting the dannedd, the creature you saw me kill.”
“Why it? Why here?”
“Because I’d heard whispers there was one seen near the town. I felt the magic. And this is part of my area. This tear doesn’t usually give me any trouble. Most faery creatures die before the interact with humans.”
“Why has no one found their remains?”
“When they die, they disintegrate in even without silver.”
“You would disintegrate?”
“Yes, in sunlight. And so would you.”
She gives me a razor-sharp glare.
“Why are you here?”
“I heard the rumors, and then I followed you.” She shakes her head. “I knew you’d be trouble.”
I can’t help but grin. “You were drawn here too.”
By me or by magic, the result is the same. We’re stuck here.
She scowls at me, like I put the fae blood in her veins. I didn’t. I know that for sure—we can recognize our own by the same magic. Her father would’ve been a rider passing through or making a temporary life before deciding to move on. “We need to make a plan.”
