“We have to break it, or it’ll last forever.” Yarrow takes another step closer, his eyes intent. Like he’s seeing through Folly. “There are three ways to break a curse like this. The first is killing the caster, which means finding Moriath. That will be difficult with you tagging along. The second is killing one of the subjects. The third?—”
Folly moves without thinking.
Killing one of the subjects means that Folly dies, or Yarrow. He has no doubt which Yarrow will pick. Folly’s only hope of survival hinges on this moment of surprise.
He crouches, then lunges forward, knife in hand.
Chapter 6
Yarrow
Yarrow moves on reflex. Stepping aside, he grabs Folly’s forearm. He nearly misses—the human moves so slowly. The knife flies away, and Yarrow yanks. His firm grip spins Folly around, neutralizing the next desperate kick.
Folly stumbles, caught in the dragging hem of his own robe. Taking shameless advantage of his imbalance, Yarrow drops into a crouch. He yanks Folly down with him, and as the human yelps, rolls them over.
The fight’s over within seconds, though Folly keeps struggling against Yarrow’s grasp. Yarrow pins his wrists above his head, knuckles digging into cold dirt and grass. His knees brace on either side of Folly’s waist.
“Now, now.” Yarrow leans back gingerly. Putting his full weight on Folly’s stomach would crush him. “I know I’m irresistible, but let me finish listing our options before you throw yourself at me.”
Being the sensible one is refreshing.
Folly goes limp beneath him. Either he’s listening, or he’s realized struggling is futile. His mismatched eyes are wide against his smudged makeup. A flush warms his face, andhis lips part with his heavy breath. His unfae nature is clear. Rounded features, without any shimmer to his skin. He should look drab, but against the dark soil and gray grasses of the realm between, he’s vibrantly alive.
And still terrified. Folly licks his lips, a small, nervous movement. “Please don’t kill me.”
His terror is fascinating. How powerfully it grips him—and yet he struck at Yarrow regardless of its chains.
Yarrow adjusts his grip. He holds Folly through his sleeve on one arm, but on the other touches bare skin—shockingly warm in contrast to the cold dirt. “Option three: we ask the Queen of Summer to break the curse, and neither of us gets killed. Doesn’t that sound better?”
Folly licks his lips again. “Oh.”
“Smart move, though.” Yarrow winks. “You almost caught me off guard. You might have had a chance if I wasn’t so amazing.”
This is when Hummingbird would roll her eyes, and Crocus would throw a walnut at him. Folly doesn’t seem to register the playful arrogance. “Who’s the queen of summer? Can she help us?” Folly’s brow furrows beneath his messy hair. “Willshe help us? Or will she trick us into eating fae food, so we’re trapped in her palace for a thousand years? And when we finally emerge, everyone we’ve ever known will be dead, and we’ll wither into?—”
Yarrow releases one of Folly’s hands to cover his lips. “That’s a lot of questions, little human. Start with one.”
Folly’s breath hitches, warm and soft beneath Yarrow’s fingers. His arm doesn’t move from its spot nestled in the dark grass. “Can you please let me up?”
Which is when Yarrow realizes just how close they are.
Not that Yarrow would ever play around with a human. Just, now that nobody’s struggling, and Folly’s got that flush warming his cheeks, Yarrow wouldn’t blame the man for getting confused.He should definitely get up. For this poor, confused human’s sake.
“That depends.” Yarrow cocks his head. Folly’s gaze follows the long hair spilling over his shoulder. “Are you going to come at me with your little dagger again?”
“I won’t.” Folly looks very sincere, which means nothing. Humans can lie.
“It’s fine if you do.” Yarrow releases Folly’s other arm. “I’ll just pin you down again.” Rocking from knees to heels, he straightens up and steps aside. He reaches a hand out?—
Folly’s already scrambling upright. He shrugs his robe over both shoulders, hugging himself. Elsewhere isn’t particularly cold, despite the shrouding fog. But maybe it’s cold for a human.
Yarrow flips his hair behind his shoulder. “Queen Haelwen rules the summer realm. That’s where we’re going next.” He crouches for Folly’s dagger, thinking. This isn’t the best plan, but it’s the only idea he has. His last petition to Haelwen came with conditions Yarrow still hasn’t fulfilled. “She’ll help us if we make it worth her while. We have to give her something she wants.”
“What does she want? Money seems too simple, and I only have a few gilden…” Folly touches the coin purse at his belt. “Wait, do you think this would work?”
He produces a golden coin, held between thumb and forefinger. The coin is large in his small hand. Yarrow peers at the intricate raven and dragon.
“I don’t know what it does, but it’s definitely magic,” Folly says.
