Page 4 of Ruling the Green

I kicked out a leg, feeling around in front of me as I moved, trying to find a spare piece of wood or glass. Something, anything I could use to defend myself.

“Come on. Come on,” I grumbled as I inched around the cavernous space, feeling nothing but dirt, moss, and what seemed to be the bones of a very small animal. Or, I thought, stomach sloshing, a small fae.

My foot touched something firm and cold, and I reached down with hopeful hands to pull whatever it was into my hand. It wasn’t a weapon. Too small. Too delicate. My hands traced over the surface, tracing the shape of the ceramic material from the vessel to the narrower neck and, finally, the cap.

It was some sort of flask.

Useless to defend myself.

But as my wet dress clung to my body, I had an idea.

I flipped off the cap, lifting the flask to sniff inside. Smelling nothing, I drew up my dress and lowered to my knees on the dirt floor, then carefully started to squeeze my lake water out of the material and into the vessel.

Once the material was wrung near dry, I squeezed out my long hair as well.

I didn’t know how long I was going to be kept captive, or when my next opportunity for escape might appear. But I did know that with each day, each hour, each minute spent away from my lake would slowly start to sap my life force.

It wasn’t a big flask.

And it wasn’t a lot of water.

But even just a drop could keep me from completely fading.

I had no idea what this was, but I did know I needed to have my wits about me.

Not wanting to have my flask seen or taken from me, I carefully ripped the lower few inches of my dress off—ignoring the screaming pain in my wrist when I tried to use it—and carefully tied the flask to my upper thigh.

Awkward? Yes.

But safe.

Hopefully.

Finished with that, I got back to my mission to find a weapon.

As I drew into the deepest, darkest parts of the cellar, I heard voices drifting down from the floor above.

I recognized the voice of the redheaded fae as I stretched up to my tiptoes to try to hear better.

“Stop fidgeting. We got the job done, didn’t we, Vrad?”

Vrad had to be the troll.

“It’s about damn time,” another, unfamiliar, voice said just a second before a door slammed. He sounded different from the other two fae—more polished, sophisticated. “We have to leave within the hour—where is she?”

My heartbeat thumped harder as a chill coursed through me.

Leave to go where?

I wouldn’t claim to know much about the world outside of my lake and its immediate ecosystem. But I did know that my water teased the edges of both the Light and Dark realms. And that in the Dark, terrible things happened—the kind of things that would keep you awake at night, a chill in your soul at just the thought.

Work camps full of horrific abuse.

Black markets where lesser fae were sold to powerful families.

“We threw her in the cellar. Didn’t know what you wanted to do with her.”

“Can you two do anything right?” the man snapped. “Get her and bring her up here. We have to prepare her.”