I look at Grimly. The shark-like grin on his weathered face doesn’t even try to deny Rys’s statement.
Both frustrated and annoyed, I throw my hands up in the air. “So what am I supposed to do?”
“Your ring.”
That’s Jim.
I turn to look at him. What about my ring? I don’t have it anymore.
“What, Jim?”
He points at my hand. “It took me a few days before I noticed it was gone. I tried to tell myself it didn’t mean anything. Maybe you lost it. Hell, maybe you took it off. But you never took it off.”
My mouth drops. For a second, I was so caught up in everything that’s happened to me in Faerie that I… I forgot all about Jim. Maybe I got used to him being quiet. Maybe I was kind of ignoring him because I’ve been terrified that he would bring up the fight we were having the other night.
Hey. Ignorance is bliss. For both of us.
But it looks like I’ve kept him in the dark for too long. It’s not fair. I’m not being fair to Jim.
And it’s about time I start being honest with him.
“My ring?” The promise ring he gave me when we were eighteen and he promised me forever? “I… I gave it to Siúcra.”
“The prison.”
“I needed a sacrifice. In order to break out… the only way I could leave was sacrificing something. Jim… Jimmy. I— I lied. When I told you that I can’t leave Faerie because of the faerie fruit. That was a lie. I can’t leave because, when I gave up my ring, it’s because I sacrificed going back to the human world again. And my ring… it symbolized home to me. When Siúcra took it, it trapped me here.”
“So… let me get this straight. You gave up home.”
I nod.
“But… you knew that meant everything. Your mom. Dad. And… me.”
I can’t lie anymore. “Yes. I knew that and I did it anyway.”
I don’t tell him about Rys. I don’t have to. He looks away from me, his gaze landing on the Seelie. A few seconds later, as if he finally understands, it’s his turn to nod.
And I feel my heart breaking. For what we had. For what we’ll never have again.
For what Jim just lost...
“Jim, I’m so sorry—”
“It’s okay, Elle.” Elle. Not Hel. I think that hurts me the most, how careful he just was to use my new name. Before I can say anything, though, he turns toward Grimly. “You want a memory. I’ll give one of mine in exchange for the one Elle wants. Your buyer, the one who wants to hurt Morgan. It’ll help them both and I’ll do it.”
“Deal,” Grimly says, almost crowing as he points his gnarled finger dead at Jim’s chest. “But it has to be a good one, boyo.”
“It’s the best.” Jim gives me a crooked grin that doesn’t quite meet his dark brown eyes. “It’s the day I saw a girl with a teal streak of paint splashed across her cheek.”
I shudder in a breath. He can’t possibly—
No. “Jim. You don’t have to do that.”
“Yes. I do.” He doesn’t look at me again. He doesn’t see how scared I am, or how much I want to stop him… but how? I’ve known Jim ten years and I learned a long time ago, when he sets his mind on something, there’s no changing it. So when he says to Grimly, “What do I have to do?,” I know there’s no going back.
What I don’t know? Is what’s going to happen after they trade their memories.
Thanks to Saxon’s lesson, it’s not really a surprise when Grimly pulls two small crystal shards out of one of his countless pockets. He takes one, then tosses one at Jim.
“Fold your fingers over it, that’s a good boyo. Close your eyes. Think about the memory you’re offering up. Got it?” At Jim’s nod, Grimly chuckles. It’s a nasty sound. “Squeeze and imprint. While you do that, I’ll do the same.”
“Okay.”
I have to try. I have to stop him. “Jim, don’t.”
His eyes are already closed. He quirks one open, then smiles. “Told you. It’s alright, babe.”
I freaking hope so.
“Go,” commands Grimly.
At first, it doesn’t seem like anything is happening. Both Jim and Grimly are standing still, fists tight, eyes closed. I barely resist gnawing on my thumbnail, I’m so worried, and, out of the corner of my eye, Riley is dancing nervously in place.
And that’s when Jim collapses.
No!
Right as he hits the ground, Rys grabs me. How did he know I was going to run for Jim? Easy. Because the last time something like that happened, I did the same exact thing.
“Not yet, Leannán,” he murmurs in my ear. “He made this sacrifice for you. Let him.”
It’s harder than I ever would’ve guessed, especially when Grimly shakes his head, coming out of it way before Jim. He never fell. He barely moved. One second, he’s unmoving, the next his eyes are open and he’s rubbing his hands together.
Jim’s still sprawled on the ground.
“What’s the matter with him?” I demand.
Grimly grins cheekily. “His might take a bit longer.”
It’s at least another few minutes before Jim’s eyes flutter open. They look dazed. Fuzzy. Lost. He sits up slowly, looking around the clearing. He doesn’t seem to regard any of the rest of us, but when his gaze lands on me, I see only confusion.
And I know in an instant that Jim—my Jimmy—is gone. And, unlike his stint inside of Samradh, there’s no getting him back.
How do I know? No clue. But I feel it deep in my gut.
It only gets worse when Rys lets go of me and I stand there, frozen, staring back at Jim.
He lifts his hand, ready to rustle his hair. It’s a nervous habit of Jim’s, one I’ve seen him do a million times. But, before he does, he realizes that he’s holding a crystal.
“What’s this? Oh. That’s right. The crystal. I… I guess it worked.”
Wait—
He remembers?
Maybe… maybe it’s okay.
Please, let it be okay.
Grimly swoops in, plucking it from Jim’s fingers. “That’s mine, boyo. Appreciate it.”
“Uh. Sure.”
Nine calls out to Grimly, “And ours?”
Grimly’s black eyes gleam. With a flick of his fingers, he sends his crystal flying toward me. “For you, girly. This memory… it more than covers my bargain with the human. I’d say it covers yours, too.”
From behind me, I hear the familiar sound of a sword being drawn. And, almost dully, I have to wonder what my life has become that, a sound like that, has become familiar to me.
“Get out of here,” commands Rys. “You played your games, gnome. You have your prize. Now be gone.”
Grimly doesn’t even wait around for another threat. Bowing to me, so mocking that I almost want to grab Rys’s sword to skewer him myself, Grimly dashes off into the trees, probably in search of a fairy circle or something.
Me, I’m too busy staring at Jim, willing him to say something to me, only to feel my stomach drop all the way to my boots when he snaps his fingers and shakes his finger at me.
“Hey. Do I know you? Wait. Yeah. You’re—”
I can’t risk it. “Elle,” I cut in quickly. “I go by Elle now.”
“Elle. We went to school together. I remember.” He moves his hand, pointing at my hair. “Your hair… that’s pretty cool. I like the color. Teal, right?”
A lump forms in my throat.
Don’t cry, Hel. Don’t cry.
“Uh. Yeah.”
“Cool.”
Behind me, Rys steps into my back. I can feel his warmth seeping through my leather coat—plus the shadowy cloak that’s got to bother him—his hair brushing my neck as he bends slightly. His hand finds mine, interlacing our fingers together, offering me some of his silent strength.
He’s not gloating. He’s not snarkily claiming victory. He’s not reminding everyone here that I chose him time and time again. Maybe not in words, not openly or anything like that except for whe
n we were alone together, but even I have to admit that, from the moment I crossed over into Faerie, I never really had a choice.
It’s Rys for me.
It’s always been Rys.
But that didn’t mean I wanted to lose Jim.
Not like this.
Rys knows what it’s like. To believe he found the one fated for him—twice—only to lose her. But Riley was never meant to be his ffrindau. I was. And even if it hurts to have Jim look at me like a stranger, I honestly believe that every impulsively reckless decision I made, every incautious step I took, every moment led me straight to my scarred Seelie.
Oberon said it was fate. That Jim had a part to play.
Is this it?
For his sake—and for mine—I have to believe that.
14
I have the crystal. That’s the good news.
The bad news? I’m walking with a man who thinks of me as a long-ago high school acquaintance, who a quick quiz reveals he knows he’s in Faerie, he remembers everything else about everyone else (except me), and he believes that he’s here because of Morgan.
Okay, then.
What’s so weird is that Morgan is more than willing to go along with. I don’t know if it’s because he’s human or because there’s something about Jim, but she takes him under her wing immediately.
Once we head back to her cottage, she can tell right away that something’s different. Instead of questioning it straight off, she welcomes us inside again, offers us dinner—including food safe for Riley and Jim—and, still wearing her gloves, puts more cream on Jim’s face. She asks if Rys will be joining us, but even if it wasn’t for her shadow barrier, he couldn’t.
My scarred Seelie takes his role as protector seriously. Even though Grimly got what he wanted in his lopsided trade, Rys doesn’t just believe the gnome left after he ran off. Of course he doesn’t. I sure as hell didn’t. So, after the gnome slipped into the darkness again and he made sure I was alright, Rys followed behind him, double-checking that Grimly actually left.
After that, he promised he’d return and keep watch over the barrier. Especially now that we know that someone is targeting Morgan, it’s important to keep her safe so that we don’t fail Oberon.
Plus, she’s still my friend.
And, because she’s my friend, I finally grow a pair and confess everything to her. I wait until she gives Jim a place to rest and recover and it’s just me, Riley, Nine, and Morgan sitting together in her living room before I act like a fountain and let it all pour out.
I’ve gotta say, Morgan takes everything better than I would’ve if I was in her shoes.
“Oh, Elle. You’re not the first one that tried to get to me. Melisandre sent countless assassins over the years, hoping to end me so that I couldn’t rise up against her. That’s why I created my curtain. If you mean me any harm, you can’t get inside. It’s as simple as that. No trickery. No way around it.”
“I never asked for your hair,” I blurt out. “I kept coming up with excuses. You’re my friend. I never would’ve hurt you.”
“I know. It’s okay. I promise. Now, if you ever did betray me…”
The freakiest thing happens. As Morgan’s clear voice trails off, her pale body turns… it turns almost icy blue, her silver gaze going completely white. And I mean completely. No pupil No iris. Just white.
I gulp.
In the blink of an eye, she goes back to normal. “...things would be different. But they’re not. So we’re okay.”
Because I didn’t betray her.
Yup.
Message received.
“Now,” she goes on to say, oblivious to how I just about pissed myself, “what interests me more is that he was only after a hair. He couldn’t do much with that.”
Oh? Did I forget to mention the rest?
Whoops.
“It wasn’t just a hair. That was only the third thing he made me try and get for this buyer person.”
Morgan’s smile freezes on her face. Uh oh. “What else was there?”
Mental note: do not piss off the Winter Queen. “Um. Well, first there was a plum. Let me tell you, that sucked. Then there was a feather. Raven’s feather. Yeah. That one was worse. And, then, of course, the hair.”
She nods. She doesn’t quite do that weird flashy thing again, but I notice that snow is whirling around her feet. I’m pretty sure that’s not a good sign.
“I see. Well, that clears things up a little. The plum? When Melisandre was still a little girl, when she still accepted that she was Unseelie, she planted plum trees in the Shadow Realm. She always had a way with a garden. Of course, when she tricked Faerie into believing she was Seelie so that she could seduce Oberon, she murdered all of her plum trees, growing apples in the Summerlands instead. Still Cursed, of course, but she didn’t want the plums to tie her to the Shadow Realm. They’re stubborn, though, and a few survive.
“The feather… that’s a little more obvious. Mab has three descendants. Me. My cousin. And Branwen.”
“That’s the raven,” I interrupt. “I remember. When we were traveling together, you told me the raven was Branwen.”
“I did,” Morgan allows. “But she wasn’t always a raven. She used to be my sister.”
Riley lets out a sharp sound. Not surprised. Sisters are kind of a touchy subject with her. “What happened to your sister?”
“Melisandre was second in line to be queen to the Winter Court,” Morgan explains. “I was first. Branwen third. When it was my time to lead, Melisandre wanted my crown. But, instead of coming after me, she went for Branwen. She couldn’t kill one of our line, but she used magic to transform my sister into a raven and promised her to the Wild Hunt who could kill her. If I let her be queen, then she called off the Hunt—and she did. But she never turned Branwen back. The threat was obvious. If I rebelled against Melisandre, Branwen was dead. I sacrificed my Court for my sister. Two hundred years later, I’d do it again.”
“God, I hate her,” explodes Riley. She clenches her fists, straining her leather gloves as she tries to get control of herself. “Not your sister. I don’t mean her. But the Fae Queen… she was fucking awful. I’m so glad she’s dead.”
“Riley,” Nine says soothingly before Morgan cuts him off with a gesture.
“Fair enough. So am I. And that’s thanks to you, Shadow.”
Nine goes absolutely still. “You know who she is.”
“So surprised. I knew who you were. Elle’s Seelie, too. Did you really expect to hide the Shadow under my very nose?” Morgan laughs. “Though I wish you wouldn’t have. Obviously, she means me no harm, and my shadow barrier loves her spirit. Her magic. But I would’ve liked to have been able to thank her sooner.” Morgan bows her head in Riley’s direction. “I stayed away from Melisandre because I knew the Shadow Prophecy. I couldn’t end her. Only you… and, well, Oberon, too… could end her. So thank you. My sister might still be a raven, but she doesn’t have to fear Melisandre anymore.”
I always thought Morgan was more like a human than an Unseelie. That? That proves it. To thank a human? Even a halfling? Whoa. She must really mean it.
Riley looks a little uncomfortable. “No problem.”
“Is that all you have to say, Shadow?”
“Yeah. When it comes to a Faerie ruler thinking they owe me something, it’s better to just let it go.”
Morgan nods. “Very well. Elle? I only have one question.”
Only one? If I was Morgan, I’d have a hundred. Shit. From where I’m sitting, I have way more than that. Then again, I’m not a fae who’s been dealing with a treacherous cousin for more than two centuries. To survive that long, Morgan’s gotta be freaking clever.
Even if she did think that me dying my hair was like alchemy.
“What’s that?”
“You said that you traded Jim’s memory for the gnome’s. If someone is trying to get items of power belonging to the last of Mab’s line, I’d like to know who it is.”
“Oh.
” I reach into my jeans pocket. The right side is a little bulgy—it’s been storing my bag of gold coins ever since I traded the imps one of my apples for it—but I’ve been holding the crystal Grimly gave me in the left one. I grab it, then hold it out. “Here you go.”
“Wait.”
We all look at Nine.
He nods at the crystal I just dropped into Morgan’s palm. “We want to make a deal.”
We do?
“Oh?”
“Yes. You want to know who’s coming after the Unseelie throne. Because, whether you want to admit it or not, that’s exactly what they’re doing. Play coy with the human, Morrigan, if you like. Not me. I see what you’re doing.”
“Do you?”
Nine ignores the politeness in her tone. “We want to trade that memory for a promise. That’s fair enough. After you watch it, you promise to at least hear Oberon out. You want peace, your majesty? So does he.”
For a moment, I expect Morgan to refuse. I mean, I already gave her the crystal. I’m pretty sure that Nine’s bluffing, that he can’t take it back from her.
But, to my surprise, Morgan nods. “I already have the crystal,” she points out, “but I will make a deal. If this memory shows me my enemy, you wait until I decide how to deal with them, and then I will think about talking to Oberon. Not as the Winter Queen, but as a daughter of Mab. Agreed?”
I think Nine realizes that’s the best he can get. “Agreed.”
Morgan lifts her hand. Just like Saxon did when he played Rys’s prophecy for me, she waves over the crystal. A moment later, it’s like a scene out of a movie. Seriously. It plays on a patch of shadow in the distance. It’s gotta be from Grimly’s angle—he’s looking at the back of a creature much taller than he is—and all I can see is shadowy clothes, pale hands, and long, black hair.
“Collector,” he says, his fae voice dark and deep, “I’ll pay you handsomely for the following items—”
That’s all. Within seconds of Morgan activating the crystal, the scene vanishes. At first, I’m fucking pissed. Jim gave up so much for that? We didn’t even see his face!
Freed: A Supernatural Prison Romance (Imprisoned by the Fae Book 3) Page 14