“You look…different,” was all I could say.
“I was a child the last time we met. As were you.”
“Not that. I only mean that…you are not what I imagined.”
“Did you think I had grown into some hideous creature by now?”
“Perhaps, to match all your hideous deeds. That is what the legends say.”
“Human legends,” he scoffed. “Intended to frighten the superstitious. Any other demands or questions?”
I bit the inside of my cheek. Ten million questions burned away at me, of course, but it was clear that he found my curiosity far too satisfying, so I just gave a terse answer of, “No.”
“Liar,” he snorted. “Do not worry. All will be answered in due time. Until then, trust that you are safe, so long as you remain with me.”
“I will believe nothing you say, Devil.”
“Then you have forgotten what I am. It is well known that the Fair Folk cannot lie.”
“Just because you cannot lie doesn’t mean you cannot weave falsehoods into every word. I am not so foolish as to think everything you say is the outright truth.” He braced his hand on the tree trunk behind me and leaned in close, grasping my chin between his fingers and turning my face toward his.
“Here is the truth you want so badly, Marina of Locksley: The Arden will welcome you with open arms, if you allow her to, but that does not mean she is free of danger. Do as I say, and you will live to fulfill our bargain.”
Abruptly, he turned and strode away between the trees. I did not follow until he had very nearly vanished from my sight, when my terror at the idea of being alone in the forest won out. I trotted after him, keeping my distance and following the trail of fireflies dancing merrily in his wake.
“Where are we going?” I asked after a few minutes of diligently ensuring I didn’t trip over the web of tree roots.
“To my nest, of course,” the Devil replied over his shoulder.
“A nest…” I muttered. The feathered cloak fanning behind him reminded me that the legends sometimes gave him the name Robin Hood, or Robin Goodfellow. My curiosity piqued, and I quickened my pace until I’d caught up to him.
“Do you have a proper name?” I asked. “I cannot imagine you like being called Devil.”
“Your concern for my feelings is touching,” he said, pressing a hand to his chest. “Most of my captives simply refer to me as ‘you bastard’ or ‘you demon’.”
I swallowed, unsure if he was taunting me. “So…youdohave a name?”
“Call me anything,” he replied, stopping short and pinning me with an intense look. “I am yours to command by whatever epithet.” He pressed his thumb over my lips, silencing me. I tried to pull away, but the rest of his long fingers wrapped around my neck, holding me in place. “But do so quietly, or you will upset the trees.”
He released me and I sucked in a breath, looking around as if a face might appear on one of the trunks. The Devil turned and began walking again, but it took me a moment to catch up with his long strides, since the top of my head barely reached his shoulder. The difference in our heights made me realize I had another question for him, but I battled with myself for a few minutes about asking it. Finally, I decided information was more important than my pride.
“All those stories about you, about how you rob travelers and wield poison arrows—they are generations old.”
“And?”
“Well, you were only a boy when we made our bargain, and you still do not look much older than I am.”
“Was I only a boy?” A smile split his strange features. “Or did I merely take the appearance of a child so you would not be afraid?”
I had not considered this possibility, so I asked the thing that was really on my mind, “How old are you, actually?”
“The fay do not measure age as you do.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Yes it is.”
I huffed loudly and fell silent again, until a few minutes later when I asked, “How many of you are there? The Fair Folk? Why have we not seen others?”
