He expects answers, and when I give them, sometimes he nods, and sometimes he corrects, always with that icy, analytical calm. I’m learning more than sword fighting. I’m learning to see the world in a new way.
I’m breathing hard when he finally lets up, coming back to a relaxed standing position. “You’re improving,” he says. It’s almost a compliment.
“Most fighters reveal their intentions before they strike,” he says, kneeling to retie my bootlace, which has come undone. “Your task is to learn to see it. See everything.”
He stands, then straightens the collar of my shirt, his fingers careful and clinical.
The others gather round. All four kings are staring, and for the first time, I feel less like prey and more like… a participant. A member of their team, if only barely.
My arms ache, my feet are raw, and the braid in my hair has come half undone, but I’m still upright.
“Learning the fire fae’s ways will save your life,” King Oberon tells me carefully.
King Ashton laughs. “Yeah, because all brute force and no intellect is the way to stay alive.”
“The wind fae hardly use their intellect in fighting,” King Cassius says, an unspoken challenge in his words.
“They’re just jealous because no one can compete with the earth fae.” King Sylvian follows his words up with a wink and a squeeze of my shoulder.
King Ashton drops an arm around my shoulder, cautious, like he thinks I might break. “I say we let her decide who did the best job,” he says, grinning wide.
I look at all of them, then at my battered hands. “I’m not sure… that was pretty awful.”
There’s a brief, stunned pause. Then, they all laugh, King Oberon quietly, King Ashton loudest, King Sylvian deepest, King Cassius a soft huff through his nose.
My cheeks heat. “Are we finished then?”
King Sylvian gives me a pitying look. “For now, but we’ll pick back up later.”
A groan slips from my lips.
King Ashton pulls me just a little closer. “Just remember, you need this if you’re going to survive the labyrinth.”
The labyrinth.I don’t even want to think about it. I don’t even want to remember that these four aren’t helping me out of the kindness of their hearts. They think I’m the one that’s going to save their people. That’s all they care about.
And for my part in this, I just need to survive and get home. Nothing else matters.
13
Alette
The fae do lovetheir balls, I’m starting to figure out. It’s just so strange. I feel like every day back home all I did was survive, but here it seems that all they do is relax and have fun.
Every time I look around, I ask myself: Who raises their livestock? Who cooks and cleans? Who makes their gowns and suits? And the answer always comes easily: humans.
I’m a human. And yet, I’m the fae’s toy. Their prize. That somehow makes me worthy of a life of leisure… at least until I’m risking my life in the labyrinth.
It’s all strange and confusing.
I sit near the fire, the flickering flames casting shadows that dance along the polished stone walls of the great hall, wishing yet again that I could just go back to my room. No, go back to my home. But the kings have been clear. My place is at their side.
Throughout the night, the kings have continued to practice their magic, discovering the limits to how far away they can get from me. What did the goddess… do to make me into something important to the fae? And can it be undone?
Taking a deep breath, I try to steady myself and fail, so I lean in closer to the fire, but the warmth of the flames does little to ease the chill that settles into my bones. Ever since the kings discovered the return of their powers, the sense of celebration has only intensified, but I don’t feel a part of it. Back home, I knew my place. Here? I’m lost.
Even if I didn’t really like my place back home.
The deal with Mr. Clay springs to my mind, and a thought circles about what that meant for me. What would happen to me when those seven days passed? When he returned with those animals to trade? A shiver rolls down my spine.I really just want to find some dark corner to crawl into, because there really isn’t a safe place for me any longer, is there?
