Page 101 of Blood of the Fairest

After exchanging quick goodbyes with her and the others, Wulf and I return to the queen's chambers to slip out through her concealed passage.

I take a deep breath before clicking open the secret door hidden by the mirror. My hand slips into the pocket of my dress to grip the piece of paper scrawled with the spell Eris workshopped to free Malivant.

"All right. Let's go free a faerie so I can finally go home."

25

Verena

Traveling from one faerie shrine to another with Wulf's magic witch stone was surprisingly anticlimactic.

One moment, we were slipping past a horde of unsuspecting, praying townspeople into one of Ayna's many mirror-covered shrines, which looked a lot like an ornate, enclosed gazebo.

In the next moment, we walked out of an abandoned, wrought-iron shrine halfway buried under tangles of massive, thorny vines.

In fact, this entire overgrown clearing in the middle of a hazy forest is filled with spiked vines as thick as tree trunks. They sprout with burgundy roses, curling and spiraling all over the place—even arching over a nearby creek that babbles in the otherwise total silence.

The warmth in the air is a shock compared to the crisp spring still hanging over Isenmere.

"We're not in Kansas anymore, huh, Toto?" I murmur, rubbing my arms and eyeing the derelict exterior of the shrine.

This place certainly feels cursed.

Then again, I may be biased because the last time I was here was so fucking awful.

"Toto?" the Huntsman repeats, stashing the witch stone in his backpack slung over one shoulder.

He's also carrying another leather backpack I filled with a huge stack of technical drawings for dresses and a few other things, not to mention the basket of food in his hand.

As imposing as this taciturn man looks, he makes a damn good pack mule.

"Something from her world, undoubtedly. I suggest we don't even bother asking anymore," Eris says from the shiny axe at his hip.

Wulf grunts and nods his chin at our surroundings. "Though Rosenwald is temperate and filled with the valuable belongings of those cursed to slumber, few ever dare to trespass in this kingdom. They say faerie curses are catching."

Now that he mentions it, I can't help noticing that the air is thick around us, so breezeless it feels almost groggy. My gaze drifts over the endless brambles, but I blink when I see four spotted deer nearby, curled up to sleep in this overgrown meadow.

That explains the freakish quiet. Apparently everything is cursed to sleep here, like it's been frozen in time.

"Mal—" I stop myself from saying his name out loud, since that's how he talked in my head last time. "The Faerie of Wrath did all of this, just because he wasn't invited to a baby blessing?"

"He is wrath personified. I'm sure a wretched temper comes with the territory," Eris shrugs. Then he frowns up at me. "Verena. How is it that you know the long-rumored reason he cursed this kingdom? The queen's journal didn't mention it, nor have we."

I'm getting antsy standing around outside this shrine, so I decide maybe I'll tell them they're all straight out of a book of fairy tales some other time.

Or better yet, I'll never have to mention that strange fact because I'll hopefully be back in my world in a matter of minutes.

Speaking of which…

"Hey, Wulf?"

The Huntsman looks at me expectantly, his light blue eyes tracing my features.

"There are drawings in my bag. If Mal—if the faerie can send me home right away, please take them to Ida and have her make the dresses according to the specifications I wrote down. Then deliver them to Snow White, Anika, and Ingrid. I want them to have something to remember me by when I'm gone."

He looks away with an expression I don't understand, but nods.

"It shall be done."