by Sofia Daniel
“It wasn’t her fault,” said Sicily from where she leaned against the front door.
Elijah ignored her. “I overheard Lady Nevermore tell the other Fated about a defiant human she wanted to track down after dark. She was livid.”
I gulped. “How did you know it was me?”
“Because I rode down on my break and asked some of the vendors what happened this morning. They told me you and she had an altercation.” He flashed those bright eyes with disbelief. “You know better than to mess with the royals.”
Ignoring the clenching of my stomach muscles, I shook my head. “It wasn’t like that.”
Elijah crossed the room and grabbed my arms. “Why would you defy one of the bloody Fated?”
“Do you have pixie dust in your ears?” Sicily snapped from where she stood by the door. “It wasn’t Unity’s fault!”
Elijah turned around, seeming to notice my sister finally. “Alright, then. Tell me what happened.”
My hands trembled. If Elijah was this worked up, things had to be dire. Maybe Sicily was right, and I needed to leave Doolish. My sister walked to the stove and boiled the kettle while I told him what had happened, explaining how I had narrowly avoided getting burned by the backside of a drake.
Elijah winced. “You know their shit is hotter than boiled water.”
A relieved breath whooshed out of my lungs. At least he no longer thought I was at fault. “That’s why I couldn’t go through with her penance.”
He shook his head. “Sometimes, even I can’t fathom the depth of fae pettiness.”
Sicily muttered something unintelligible under her breath.
My gaze dropped down to the basket Elijah had set on the floor, containing osprey eggs he’d probably brought from the academy kitchens. He was some kind of supervisor up there, which meant he had access to things the highest echelons of the fae discarded.
“Have you had lunch?” I asked.
He shook his head.
After picking up the basket, I joined Sicily in our small kitchen area and pulled down a copper frying pan hanging from a wood beam. Sicily opened the icebox and extracted chives and rapunzel leaves.
“Lady Nevermore seemed more agitated than usual this morning.” Elijah walked across the room and lowered himself onto the sofa. “For the past few days, the Fated have been looking forward to something from the outside world the Princes said would arrive today.”
“IPads.” Sicily placed two mugs of chamomile tea on the coffee table. “Someone spread the rumor that Apple was sending us a gift.”
Elijah rubbed his temples and sighed. “That sort of makes sense.”
“What does?” I broke the eggs and whisked them with a fork.
“Ladies Nevermore and Westerling have been talking about starting a Youtube channel to get admirers in the outside world.”
Wrinkling my nose, I placed a pat of butter into the pan, moved the kettle to the side, and set the pan on the stove. Outsiders probably didn’t know that the fae were nasty, wicked creatures so dangerous that the UN had confined them to this island to keep them from spreading their evil across the world.
I tipped the pan from side to side, spreading out the melted butter. Everyone on the Isle of Fae had at least one ancestor who had been cursed by faeries. When Mom’s great-great-aunt was heavily pregnant, she didn’t curtsey in a way that satisfied one of Queen Maeve’s ladies-in-waiting, so the faerie cursed her to give birth to a black kitten with a white diamond on his chest. Her husband tolerated this until the kitten started to talk, then he left.
“How does all of this affect Unity?” My sister placed a third mug on the coffee table.
I kept my breaths deep and even, focusing on the melting butter. Maybe there was a way to escape from Gala Nevermore’s wrath.
Elijah blew out a breath. “I heard Lady Nevermore tell Lady Westerling that the other Fated hogged the iPads because she was late to arrive at the academy. She kept ranting about it being the fault of a belligerent human who insulted her and Prince Rory’s drake.”
Clenching my teeth, I threw the rapunzel leaves on the melted butter and tossed them around the pan. The fae were such touchy bastards. It was as though nature needed to balance out all that beauty with some severe personality defects.
After adding the whisked eggs to the pan, I turned to Elijah. “I apologized multiple times.”
He ran a hand through his locks. “Not enough, because Lady Westerling agreed to accompany Lady Nevermore to Doolish after classes tomorrow to watch her bury you in drake shit.”
“But she doesn’t know where we live,” I said.
“How many people would sell you out for a handful of money beads?” he said.
A pit of dread hit me in the gut, and silence stretched out across the room, filled by the sizzle and pop of the cooking omelet. Sicily and I exchanged worried glances. Nobody, not even the half-bloods and the lower fae, truly liked the royals. But if there was an opportunity to make money, they’d rat out their closest friends.
The liquid egg set, and I plated up the omelets and brought them over to the coffee table. “Why not tonight?”
Elijah grabbed the largest portion and cut himself a generous chunk. “Queen Titania is visiting the headmistress this evening. All the Fated will be there for a formal greeting.”
“That gives us a day to work something out.” I handed Sicily the second-largest portion.
Chewing on his mouthful, Elijah rubbed his chin. “You could try bargaining with the peacekeepers.”
“They use pounds and dollars and all kinds of currency.” I lowered myself into the seat next to him and put my plate on my lap. “Besides, money beads have no value in the outside world.”
He glanced away.
Sicily slammed her plate on the coffee table with a clang. “You want my sister to offer them sex?”
My brows drew together. “That isn’t what he—”
“It is,” Sicily snapped. “Otherwise, he would offer to make the bargain himself.”
I glanced at Elijah, giving him a chance to explain.
His face tightened. “Why does everything with you have to be so black and white? There’s nothing wrong with a girl trading her favors. It’s good enough for Unity, and I don’t see you turning down any of my food.”
A lump formed in the back of my throat, and I stared into my lap. We had never before described our relationship as a trade, and I hadn’t fooled myself into thinking that what we had was true love. The guy was insanely attractive, inventive in bed, and always keeping things interesting. But he never visited us empty-handed. Most of the luxuries we enjoyed, the DVD player, reality TV episodes, and delicacies from the outside world, all came from Elijah.
The lump in my throat slid down to my belly, where it rolled around, making me queasy. I couldn’t offer myself to one of those assholes at the United Nations. I hated them even more than I hated the faeries. With their iron ships, they could transport the humans off this accursed island. But they were so hell-bent on keeping the fae out of their perfect world that they confined us humans here to keep the fae amused.
My voice lowered to the barest whisper. “Isn’t there anything you can do to help?”
After wolfing down the rest of the omelet, Elijah stood. “I came here to warn you, didn’t I?”
I stared up into his hard, blue eyes, my heart plummeting through the flagstone floor. In his mind, I was already dead. Or so severely disfigured by molten drake shit that I was no longer of any use.
“Fine.” My voice was thick with emotion. Thick with rage and hurt and disappointment. Betrayal was also in the mix, but certainly not heartbreak. I curled my fists and drew them into my belly. “Thanks for the warning. We can take care of ourselves.”
“No.” Sicily rushed to the door, blocking Elijah’s exit. “For three years, I’ve stood by and let you fuck my sister. Now, it’s time for you to do something for her.”
Shame burned through my veins and heated my cheeks. If she co
ntinued this rant, Elijah would point out all the things around the room that had come from him. Thanks to Elijah, we could barter with other humans and lesser fae, but the truth hurt. He’d only supplied us with the TV, DVD player, and DVDs because he wanted sex.
Elijah turned to me, his features sagging with resignation. If I never meant anything to him apart from sex, I wasn’t surprised he wanted to leave.
“Sis, let him go,” I said.
“No,” she snapped. “He owes you more than just a warning.”
With a sigh, I stood, walked around Elijah’s broad form, and wrapped my arms around Sicily’s neck. “We’ll work something out.”
Her shoulders shook, and she rested her head against mine. “They’re all the fucking same.”
“Yeah.” I maneuvered Sicily away from the door.
Elijah had never lied to me or implied that we were any more than people who fucked. Neither had he made any promises or uttered any words of love or commitment. But the confirmation of our transactional relationship still hurt like a mule kick to the gut.
With a whispered apology, he eased open the door and stepped out of our lives in a cloud of jasmine scent.
I heaved out a sigh and tried not to focus on the pain of his dismissal. “Let’s get a few things together and head south for Balley Chashtal.” It was the driest, sunniest part of the Isle of Fae and furthest from both the Royal Fae Academy and the Duke of Nevermore’s territory. “If we set off at dawn, no one will see us and tell that vicious faerie where we’ve gone.”
Sorting out what to take for the journey and what to leave behind took the rest of the day. As much as the television and DVD set had offered us a comfortable living, we had to leave them behind. They were too heavy, and we couldn’t transport the solar panels and batteries. Instead, we packed the DVDs and went to bed early.
As I dropped off to sleep, I planned our route to Balley Chashtal. We’d walk alongside the coast during the day. Even though it would take ten hours, it avoided the Charity district, the dwelling-place of creatures not dark enough to require a curfew.
Hours later, a distant wail broke me out of my sleep.
A jolt of paranoia snapped my eyes open, and my heart jumped to the back of my throat. Our small bedroom was dark. Only the barest trace of moonlight streamed in through our window, illuminating Sicily’s side of the bed.
It was empty.
“Sis?” I swung my legs out of bed, listening for signs that she was using the commode, but the house was silent.
I stepped on a scrap of paper, which hadn’t been there the night before. After picking it up, I took it to the living room and turned on a lamp.
Uni,
Thank you for taking care of us all these years. I realize now that you slept with that loathsome creature to secure a comfortable lifestyle for us, and I repaid you with judgment and snide comments.
Verbal apologies can’t express the depth of my remorse, so I’m going to repay the favor.
If you’re reading this after sunrise and nothing has changed, my plan went horribly wrong. Don’t look for me—I’ll be beyond your reach.
Take everything precious and run.
No matter what, I will always love you,
Sicily
Dread turned my stomach to stone. I re-read the note, wondering what the hell she had done. Had Sicily approached the peacekeepers on my behalf? It was possible. Lots of men valued virginity, but would any of them have the power to smuggle two girls onto their iron boats or their offshore rig?
Shaking my head, I pushed that thought aside. None of the peacekeepers would lower themselves to consort with the humans on the Isle of Fae. They acted as though we were somehow tainted.
What, then?
I skimmed her note, my gaze falling on the words ‘I’ll be beyond your reach.’ It could refer to the offshore rig or—
A loud gasp slipped through my lips.
“The Mound!”
I doubled over, crying out my anguish. Why else would she leave in the middle of the night when the dark fae roamed the streets? She was going to make a bargain with one of those wicked creatures.
Nothing good ever came from making bargains with the fae. They always twisted the agreements, so that what they demanded in return was more than what they gave. I ran back to the bedroom and pulled off my nightgown.
Light fae were vindictive bastards. Dark fae were just plain evil. A woman asking for irresistible beauty would get precisely what she wanted but either ended up being irresistible to dogs or tricked into decades of servitude in a fae-run brothel.
I shoved on a pair of ratty jeans, threw on a top, and rushed out into the living room. The only spare piece of iron we had was the horseshoe we hung over the door to keep out lesser fae who didn’t need invitations to enter a human’s home and cause mayhem.
After slipping the iron into my pocket, I opened the door, letting in the chill.
Dark shadows stretched across the cobbled street, seeming to move as though alive. I sucked in a breath and stepped out. No matter what, I had to catch up with Sicily before she condemned herself in a bargain.
Chapter 4
After navigating the maze of alleyways unscathed, I turned into the Doolish Road and fixed my gaze on the town square in the distance. Sicily couldn’t have gone too far. With no money beads, she would have to walk to the nearest active bargain circle, which could be hours away.
My feet pounded the cobblestones, and the low buildings on either side of the road formed a blur. Hooded figures—some knee-high and others as tall as eight feet—paused to watch as I passed, but no one approached.
I reached the town square, and my steps faltered. Instead of the vast market of the previous morning, winged fae mingled with goblins, dwarves, and creatures that covered their misshapen forms in cloaks. Many of them gathered around a large bonfire, which stank of singed hair.
Sucking in a deep, fortifying breath, I tried not to consider what manner of creature had perished in flames and wove my way through the crowd of non-humans. From what I understood of the bargain trade, a broking hag could put humans in touch with dark fae for the right price.
A strong hand grabbed my arm. “What are you doing?” said a familiar voice. “Trying to get yourself killed?”
I spun around and glowered into Elijah’s eyes. “What do you care?”
The muscles of his face tensed. “You know better than to roam the streets after dark—”
“Sicily’s gone to make a deal,” I said. “Do you know which bargain circle is active tonight?”
Eyes widening, Elijah released my arm as though it was made of molten shit. “Why would she—” He stopped himself from continuing the sentence.
I guessed he knew why my sister had stooped to such a desperate measure, and he didn’t want me to bring up the subject of his refusal to help us.
“There’s a group of deal-makers at the Hope Woods circle, but you can’t go there,” he said.
There was no point in asking why. I didn’t want to hear that the woods were dangerous for human girls, especially after dark. I broke into a run across the square.
“Unity.” Elijah’s voice was non-committal. Like he ought to call me back just to make himself feel like he’d done everything he could to stop me from getting killed or enslaved.
He didn’t give chase, confirming that he’d already washed his hands of Sicily and me. As I approached the fire, a thin, human-shaped male in ragged clothing stepped into my path, his silver eyes gleaming like stars. His features twisted into a grin that reached the outer edges of his eyes.
My stomach dropped to my knees, and my feet froze on the cobblestones.
Fuck, the creature leering at me was a Jack of Smiles. But there was nothing funny about how he fed on his victims. Anyone caught in his mesmerizing stare for longer than three heartbeats lost the ability to taste, smell, or feel any kind of pleasure or joy.
I snatched my gaze away from the monster and caught sight of a centaur weavi
ng through the crowd. He wore a saddle, which meant he was open for business.
“Hey, stallion!” I trotted after him.
He turned around and swished his golden ponytail. “Are you talking to me?”
Joy surged through my chest, but I didn’t know if that was the Jack of Smiles bringing my emotions to the surface. “How much to take me to Hope Woods?”
Furrowing his golden brows, the centaur rubbed his chin. “What does a pretty girl like you want to do in a place like that?”
My gaze darted toward the Jack of Smiles floating through the crowds like an apparition. “Can you take me there or not?”
“It will cost you,” he said.
I pulled back my sleeve, exposing a wrist-full of beads.
His black eyes gleamed. “Hop on my back, and we’ll negotiate a price.”
A knot of worry formed in my gut. Accepting a ride before agreeing to the cost was a terrible idea, but with that joy-sucking monster following me like I was his only chance of a meal, getting scammed by a centaur was the least of my worries. I’d happily give him all my money to help me catch up with Sicily before she made such a dangerous bargain.
I pulled myself onto his saddle and rested my hands on his broad, muscular shoulders. Contrary to the sexy centaurs in movies like the Chronicles of Narnia, ours grew coarse horsehair up to their beard-lines.
“Hold tight,” he purred.
“That’s alright.” My fingers curled around the muscles stretching down from his neck. I’m fine like thi—”
With a happy neigh, he reared up, making me jerk backwards on the saddle. I clamped my arms around his waist and wedged my chest against his back. The crowd parted to let him through, and he cantered a wide circle around the fire and then up the Doolish Road.
“Bloody hell!” I shouted. “What was that all about?”
“That Jack o’ Smiles was about to grab your arm,” said the centaur. “I had to do something to startle him.”
“Was he?” I turned around and glanced into the crowd.