"Calm yourself, Elwood. He could prove useful." The Fairy Queen and the human's eyes connect again. "What is your name?"
His grin rises again, and once more there is a fluttering in her stomach as if she has swallowed a bird. Perhaps she ate something bad at breakfast. It would help explain the fever spreading along her skin.
"Finn. The premier treasure hunter in all of Ulst. Captain of theSilver Shard, most feared sailor of the High Sea, expert lovemaker, deadly swordsman, competent pistol master, and renowned?—"
"That's quite enough, thank you," the Fairy Queen interjects, cutting his tirade of accolades short.
Stars dance in his blue eyes.
"What's your name?"
The human—Finn—breaks off in a groan as Elwood delivers a decisive blow to his ribs.
"You will refer to her as your majesty. Speak when spoken to, human!"
Pain tightens the human's muscles. Indignation sparks in the Fairy Queen's chest as she levels a glare at her scout. Elwood has the good sense to look contrite, turning as green as his scaled armor.
"Show some restraint."
Her magic reaches for the human, ensuring that Elwood has not injured him. The fairy male simmers with quiet fury. The reaction is strange, but she pays it no mind.
"Arden. Queen of Meadowmist."
Finn's smile etches itself into her heart.
"I've never met a Queen before."
"Pity. The ones you meet next will be a let down."
Laughter rips from his lips, and it is the sweetest sound she's ever heard. It skitters down her bones and sinks into her blood. She's never felt like this before. It is unsettling and intriguing. Too bad it will be short-lived if she has her say in the matter.
"I like you, Queenie."
Humans must have poor hearing.
"No, Arden," she repeats, lengthening every letter with her tongue.
Finn's grin only widens.
"I've come all this way, Queen Arden. If you would be so kind as to hear my request, I would be in your debt."
The thought intrigues her. It is a selfish idea, but one that must happen regardless. If he is as skilled as he says, that must be the reason the Spirits guided him here. He is their answer. The least she can do is listen to his plight.
"Go on," she encourages.
"In exchange for any services requiring my various talents"—he cuts her a knowing look—"or my body if you should deem it necessary, I only ask for one thing."
Biting her lip, his eyes snag at her sharp teeth. Instead of fear marring his heady scent of pine wood and dew-soaked grass, it turns sweeter. He is brave. She'll give him that.
He'll need to be for what she has in mind.
"And that is?"
Swallowing thickly, earnestness burns in his eyes.
"A fairy wish."
4
