Page 3 of Ruling the Green

The men taking me with them.

The giant, upon closer inspection, had to be a troll. Tall, broad, with stringy silver hair, green-tinged skin, and a wide, almost beak-like nose.

The fae in front of him was red-haired and spry. He was nothing distinctive. Judging by his demeanor and the company he kept, though, he had to be a Dark Fae.

I hoped to pass other fae, someone I could plead with for their assistance.

But there was nothing but the birds overhead and a single gnome who rushed off his mushroom at the sight of the troll and scurried away.

There was no one to help me.

And being outnumbered and outmuscled, my only hope for freedom was to outsmart them.

I had to calm down, to focus, to think.

Before I could even clear my mind, a sprawling mansion came into view.

I’d only ever seen a handful of actual homes in my time, and never one quite so grand.

It was a towering thing of dark gray stones, spires, turrets, vines, and heavily-shuttered windows.

“Throw her downstairs,” the redheaded fae called. “I’ll tell the boss.”

I was led around the house toward a set of wooden doors. The beast leaned down to wrench them open before pulling me down a set of jagged stone steps that bit at the soles of my feet.

The scents hit me first—damp earth and stale air.

“Stay,” the troll demanded, throwing me forward with enough force that I slammed hard into the stone wall.

The air knocked from my lungs, leaving me gasping, chest burning, heart racing as I struggled to draw in a proper breath.

By the time I managed one, the troll was already up the steps and slamming the door. The heavy wooden bar slid into place, trapping me inside.

I was alone.

I tamped down the panic at that word.

Alone was good.

Alone meant I could—possibly—escape. Or, at least, find a weapon to defend myself with when they came back for me.

It was darker than the deepest parts of my lake down here, and unlike with my water, I had no power here, no ability to see in the dark.

“Okay. Alright. You have to move,” I told myself, sucking in a few greedy breaths.

I pushed away from the wall, but stretched my good hand out toward it, running along it as I moved.

Beneath my feet, the packed-earth floor was damp and uneven, dropping low in some spots, climbing to small hills in others.

A chill shivered down my spine as something skittered across the top of my foot.

Alright.

So not completely alone, it seemed.

My wrist was throbbing, having a pulse of its own as I felt the skin expanding, swelling.

But there was no time to focus on the pain.