“Him?” I followed her gaze to find a man—or rather, fae, judging by those pointed ears—seated at a desk, poring over a brown leather book.
He paused halfway through pulling off a pair of glasses as he looked up from the desk.
Pale blue eyes caught on mine.
He wore a tailored dark vest in a smooth, shiny fabric over a long-sleeved button-down shirt. Besides the weird clothes—and ears—though, he looked like he could’ve graduated high school only a few years ahead of me.
Actually, no.
He’d never blend in with the high school guys. They were all about sports, farting noises, and wearing the same sweatpants five days in a row, while he had this too-serious, mysterious, dark-and-handsome thing going on.
I bit my lip.
His gaze tracked the movement.
I stopped halfway through brushing the dirt off my backside and stood up straight.
Good looks are deceiving, I reminded myself. In fact, I was pretty sure I’d read that fae used beauty to make humans easier prey. Or maybe that’d been vampires.
Either way, I’d done my research and wouldn’t be so easily fooled.
Standing in this room with two fae who might not be as friendly as they pretended, I made the split-second decision to keep my knowledge to myself and act dumb. People always underestimate you when they think you don’t know anything.
As far as plans went, it was unfortunately the worst. But it was all I had.
I inhaled to ask if he’d seen anyone. He held up a finger, making me wait as he wrote something down.
“He’s appointed master of the south entrance,” Lore whispered, emphasizing the words like they held some sort of importance.
“Hmm?” I crossed my arms. “I have no idea what that means.”
She gave me a sidelong look. “It’s his title in the Hollow Court.”
“The Hollow Court,” I murmured. Arms still crossed, I gripped my coat to hide the trembling in my hands, wishing I knew what to do. Was I on my way to getting officially kidnapped, or did I still have a chance to find my family and get out of here? “What is this place?”
From the desk, the serious dude chose to finally join our conversation. “It’s my library.”
“Is everything under this tree yours?” I asked without missing a beat, waving at the strange underground room full of books. “Are all of you—” I caught myself before I said “fae.” I was pretending to be unaware, after all. “Are you tunnel people? Did you dig the tunnels yourself?” I made the mistake of meeting his eyes on that last question and found it hard to look away.
His lips twitched slightly. “Do you always say exactly what you’re thinking?”
Ha.Ironic since I’d actually stopped myself from doing just that. I narrowed my eyes at him, keeping the fox girl in my peripherals. She’d perched on a low couch next to a table that held a tea kettle and two half-full cups. “Not... usually.”
“Tea?” Lore interrupted.
“No,” we both said at the same time, not looking away for a tense moment.
He lifted his pen and cleared his throat. “It depends on what you mean by ‘under this tree,’ because technically, all of the Seelie are under the Elder Tree, and its roots stretch for miles across all of the Hollow Court.”
I remembered reading the name “Seelie” in the nonfiction book from the library. It was from Scottish folklore. I pulled up my mental catalogues, trying to remember what else it had said. Not much, really... It meant something like “blessed,” or “benevolent,” maybe? If they were stealing families, though, I probably shouldn’t put too much stock into that.
“I would not use such a crass title as ‘tunnel people’ to describe us,” he continued, unaware of my inner turmoil. “But yes, this particular burrow beneath this specific part of the forest belongs to me.” He paused to fold his hands together over the desk. “And I’m not going to dignify that last ridiculous question about if Idug the tunnels myselfwith an answer.”
I rolled my eyes. “How should I know what—” I almost messed up again by saying “what fae do.” This was tough. I coughed and finished lamely, “What people who live underground are into?”
He tilted his head slightly but seemed to decide that wasn’t worth answering. Lifting his fancy pen to hover over the brown leather book on his desk, he asked, “Your name and reason for visiting?”
Standing there in front of his desk with my wrist still stinging from the way I’d landed a couple minutes ago and that shocking creature from the tunnels imprinted on the backs of my eyeballs, I just shook my head. “Why?”
