With a Kiss

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With a Kiss Page 14

by Stephanie Fowers


  Chapter Fourteen

  Sound of the calm wave on the beach,

  pure shadowing tree of pure music,

  carousals are drunk in your company,

  voice of the swan over shining streams.

  Cry of the Fairy Women from the Fairy Hill of Ler,

  no melody can match you

  —Gofraidh Fion O Dalaigh, The Harp of Cnoc I'Chosgair

  "Forget it!" Hobs pulled away from Bugul, giving him a dark look. "It's the most dangerous territory in the Sidhe and you know it! We're not trespassing there."

  Bugul and Hobs had been arguing since we left the ice castle, which seemed like a pretty hard thing to do considering that Bugul didn't have a voice, but they managed quite well. From what I gathered, Bugul wanted to take his chances with the nymphs and cross their territory to get to the faery queen, but Hobs, as usual, wanted nothing to do with them.

  Bugul made a fist and grunted out another argument that no one but Hobs seemed to understand. Hobs gave a frustrated sigh, glaring at the forest around us. The leaves glowed green under the dust of snow as if lit from below. Despite the cloudy day, the branches filtered the light into a spattering of speckles over our faces.

  Hobs' eyes rested on my confused face, and he surprised us—most especially Bugul—with a pleasant expression; it held a hint of devil. "Fine. Okay. You win, Bugul—we'll cross Crystal Lake. It's probably frozen over by now, but that's okay. We'll walk across it if we have to."

  Bugul grunted out his opposition. Now instead of fighting him, Hobs was putting words into his mouth. Even I could tell Bugul didn't want to go to Crystal Lake. "What? No!" Hobs looked shocked. "Bugul, we can't swim across. We could drown. Be reasonable."

  "Uh-uh," Bugul got out. It was an obvious no.

  Hobs helpfully supplied Bugul with yet more reasons for his resistance, "Steal a boat? Well, I guess if you want."

  "Uh-uh," Bugul grunted with more force.

  "Oh, just borrow it? Okay, we'll take it from the nymphs, although for the record I'm shocked you would suggest such a thing."

  "Uh-uh!" Bugul shook his fist for emphasis.

  "It's not very honest—that's why I'm shocked. Borrowing without asking is usually called stealing." By now, Hobs was trying not to laugh outright. The goblin had gone scarlet with rage. "But we'll do it." He reserved an apologetic look for me. "Bugul is a daredevil. I hope you're okay with that."

  Bugul spun from us to pace the snowy clearing by the trees. I couldn't understand why he didn't storm off, but the two must be better friends than I thought. Bugul gestured with a meaty fist for me to follow him. I gawked, not sure what he meant to do. He made muttering sounds, and I left Hobs to investigate. I couldn't figure out what Bugul was trying to tell me until he gave a sigh of impatience and drew something in the snow. Babs and I stared over his shoulder at his artwork. He poked some holes in the white powder and made a squiggly mark around them. "Is it a map?" I asked. He nodded. Hobs leaned over it too, and Bugul pushed him back roughly. "What's the squiggly?" I asked.

  "A snake?" Hobs guessed. Bugul stopped his drawing to glare at him.

  "Crystal Lake?" I asked. I tried to warm my hands against Babs' neck. She smiled up at me. Bugul watched us with a piercing look, then nodded again. "Then what are the dots?" I asked. This time Hobs stayed silent, his lip curled up. "A forest?" I guessed. Bugul shook his head. "Villages? Houses? Cottages? Condos?" Bugul was about to shake his head off. He made bigger pokey marks in the squiggly line as if that made things clearer. Was there something in the water? "Alligators?" I asked. "Crocodiles?"

  I was closer this time. Bugul got excited and acted out combing seriously long hair. Babs laughed.

  "Oh great, we're back to the nymphs again." Hobs threw his hands up. "I thought we were past that."

  I circled on Hobs, knowing he was trying to throw us off. The wind picked up, chilling me from my scalp to my numb toes. We didn't have time for games. "Take it back."

  "What?"

  "Take it back! Your curse. It's stupid. Make it so he can talk again!"

  Hobs hesitated. "I'd love to, but it's a time dependent spell. It only wears off."

  "Then what's he really trying to say? Answer me that. You're keeping something from us and I want to know what!"

  Hobs gave in with a shrug. "He's trying to warn you about the Merrow. He'd rather face the nymphs than them."

  Bugul sagged in relief.

  That was it? "I don't understand why you're so against nymphs, besides their music and all. How can Merrow possibly be less scary?"

  "The Merrow are green with razor-sharp teeth, and the nymphs will grant you your every wish." Hobs acted like that was worse.

  "So?"

  "You don't want that." He looked stern.

  The cold Sidhe wind ran through my hair. I hopped up and down in the snow to ward off the chill. "You want to know what my first wish to the nymphs will be? Huh? To be warm! Maybe I'll ask for some earmuffs too—something crazy like that!"

  "Are you serious? We're almost to the faery queen's, and that's what you want?" Hobs' gaze slid over my clothes, and then he looked over at Babs and let out a sigh. "You'll never pass as a nymph in that outfit." I stopped dancing around in the snow. Was he going to follow Bugul's advice? He would trespass nymph territory? Hobs mussed the top of Babs' hair. The poor girl was drowning in his jacket with my Midsummer Dream's costume, which made me wonder what my shadow was wearing for the play at home. I tried not to think about it.

  "Maybe if you had packed us some real clothes," I said. "I wouldn't be throwing away my wishes on something warm."

  Hobs ignored me, tapping Babs' forehead with his finger. Her costume lost its wings and pulled into Babs' tiny frame. The skirt became little khaki pants and the ballerina top turned into a pink-striped sweater. A long white coat layered over her, replacing Hobs' oversized jacket. Her hands grew matching mittens. Soon she was wearing fur-trimmed boots. She looked warm and absolutely adorable.

  "Did you really just—?" My lips trembled with the cold that he could've alleviated with a mere tap of his fingers. "What else can you do that you haven't been telling me about?"

  "That's it. I'm just the brave little tailor who could."

  Bugul snorted in derision. I felt the same way. What a liar! "And you couldn't go brave little tailor on us sooner? I'm about to freeze to death!"

  "Oh, c'mon, you just think you are. We're in the Sidhe after all! Besides, I only have so much Fringe power on reserve, and you want me to waste it all on clothes?"

  I gave him my best pleading eyes, and after a moment of resisting, he growled out a complaint and tapped my head. Soon I was wearing go-go boots with lots of black hair toppling over my head—completely covering the tiara I wore. I looked like a sixties dancer and I wasn't any warmer, especially my legs. "There," he said. "You'll fit in perfectly with the nymphs now!"

  I tugged at my skirt. "I refuse to believe that your nymph friends are stuck in the sixties!"

  "It's disturbing how well you know me." Before he could change me back—and I could only give him the benefit that he had every intention of doing so—twinkling wisps of balled-up light looking suspiciously like Christmas tree ornaments flitted through the air toward us. More oozed from the frosty trees, making the leaves lose their glow. "It isn't too late to run," Hobs told Bugul. The goblin stubbornly stood his ground.

  "Surprise!" I heard tiny voices shout. We were surrounded by the beautiful little things. It was like they had been waiting for us to join their big faery bash. "Oh, he's back! He's back!" the faeries shrieked as soon as they recognized Hobs. "Hip, hip, hurray!"

  "So much for sneaking past quietly," Hobs said through the cheering voices. One by one, the nymphs grew tall enough to touch the ground. For the record, they didn't look like little sixties girls. They were elegant and perfect in slinky, form-fitting dresses in every hue imaginable. And they looked very happy to see Hobs. He didn't bother to hide the fact that he didn't return the sentiment. "Wow
, we just stumbled on the most annoying place in all the land. I'm so happy."

  I elbowed him. "What's wrong with you?"

  "Look at them; they're just so . . . beautiful."

  They giggled, completely entranced by his un-charming ways. Sure, Hobs was hot, but then, I had always assumed he was tricking my human senses because he was a faery. But these glamour dolls were all over him. Some of them had already slipped their hands into the crook of his arm and were batting their eyelashes wildly. "Hi, Hobany!"

  My eyebrows went up. Hobs forced a gallant smile, as if knowing what had to be done. He pushed away from me and turned on his act. "Hi, girls! Glistenda, Sparkle, Bubbles . . . missed you too." His pleasant front was a little too good, and they wilted in delight.

  "Take off that terrible cap," a nymph sang sweetly, stealing the black beanie from his head. "It covers your glorious hair." She ran her fingers through his blond hair, trying to put some order to it, but it was an impossible task. With an annoyed glance, Hobs tried to disentangle their hands, but they held tightly to him—he must have escaped them before.

  "We've been waiting for you," the one called Glistenda cooed. She was a tall blonde with white, almost transparent skin that glowed with an inner light. Her eyes roved over Babs and dismissed her as too young for competition, but finding me, she bristled possessively. "He's way out of your league," she sneered. "He's a prince, you know."

  "A prince of what?" I asked. "Darkness?"

  The others giggled. Hobs rolled his eyes, as if trying to pass the claim off as ridiculous, which instantly made me suspicious. He was a prince, wasn't he? What did that mean here? What else wasn't he telling me?

  "Who is she?" Glistenda glared at me.

  Before Hobs could answer, Sparkle had Hobs by the neck of his shirt, rubbing the back of his head with her sharp pink fingernails. "Tell us she's nothing. I'm the only one you love."

  That started a catfight. Bubbles ripped her away from him. "It's me you love. Tell me!"

  Hobs ineffectually tried to defend himself from their loving attentions. "If my heart were free, you'd be the first to steal it, I'm sure."

  "Who? Who has your heart?" they cried all at once.

  "It's a secret," he said with a wicked grin. "You know who you are."

  Most of the nymphs blushed to the roots of their silky hair. Bubbles wasn't happy with his answer. "Why can't you say you love me in front of everyone? Are you ashamed to be seen with me? Do you think I'm fat? Is that why?"

  Hobs looked positively hunted just as Sparkle dragged him away from Bubbles. "We never talk anymore!" she whined. "Tell me you love me. I'm wearing a new dress and you didn't even notice!"

  "Why are you so quiet?" another nymph chimed in to join the chorus of complaining girls. "What are you thinking?"

  "Yes!" The nymphs all agreed in their singsong voices. "Tell us what you're thinking!"

  He was thinking he wanted to kill me for getting him into this mess. I knew that look on his face. Before I could laugh, Glistenda pulled me aside, smiling with her perfect rosebud lips. "We're having a party. Do you want to stay? We'll make you our special guest." Hobs' eyes widened and he shook his head at me through the chaos.

  Why not? I could find out what was happening around here. These girls might be overwhelming, but at least they talked. Speaking of, there was a wide berth around Bugul. Apparently jealousy wasn't the nymphs' only failing. They were shallow, too. Bugul didn't mind at all. He rolled his club over his meaty palm, a small grin playing on his lips. Like me, he enjoyed seeing Hobs tortured, and for good reason. Yeah, Hobs had a lot to answer for. I smiled at him through the chaos. "Sure," I answered Glistenda.

  Hobs shifted uneasily. "No. We couldn't possibly stay." He matched Glistenda's smile. It was the war of smiles. "She can't eat your food, you see."

  Glistenda giggled. "Of course she can. She's an oaf. You can't fool us, Hobany." Now it was my turn to stiffen. Compared to them I was an oaf, but Hobs didn't even try to defend me. He looked ready to bolt.

  "Is she your girlfriend?" Bubbles asked.

  "Why are you even with her?"

  "She wears strange clothes." Yeah, because Hobs put them on me!

  "You like her, don't you?" Glistenda said in a dangerous voice.

  "Of course not." Hobs looked tense. "That's a death sentence around here. Besides, look what she's wearing. I could never fall for a girl dressed like that."

  I frowned angrily, but the girls giggled and led us deeper into the dark forest caked with snow. "Please stay." With their nails digging into our flesh, we really had no choice. Babs and I trudged reluctantly behind. I was starting to regret my hasty decision to go party with them.

  "We'll give you gifts!" they promised. "That's what people with manners do, isn't it, Hobs? But you never do that for us. Why? You have something for us this time, don't you?"

  He muttered something rude, and they giggled again. He could do no wrong. Bugul tickled the blunt end of his club with the tips of his stubby fingers. I felt a chill the moment I saw the murderous gleam in his eyes when they rested on Hobs. Why had I been so sure that Bugul was on our side, anyway? It seemed strange to entertain, but Hobs could've been right all along. We might have been better off with the green-skinned, sharp-teethed Merrow on Crystal Lake. So far, the nymphs hadn't played their captivating music, but I knew that once they did, Babs and I were done for.

  The discomfort of a bad mistake settled in my gut the further the nymphs dragged us into their forest kingdom. This part of the woods was more captivating than a vision. They had garnished their trees and tiny houses with gauzy ribbon and splendid ice crystals (marquis, diamond, and princess cut, of course). The cold had ruined the décor, sadly, with the snow weighing down the branches and dragging down ribbons. One of the nymphs brushed snowflakes from her delicate shoulders in disgust.

  An exotic spread of food was heaped over the long tables. Steam rose from it, and I took a deep whiff, hoping the smell would do me for the next two days. The nymphs had been expecting us. Meat and fruit, but mostly sugary concoctions (a faery favorite) were laid delicately across the table. My stomach rumbled at the sight. The tiara over my head buzzed over my ears in warning. Never eat faery food! I kicked at the snow, tempted to eat that too.

  At least Babs didn't have to starve. She scooted next to me and we sat down at the elegant table. Hobs took my other side. The other faeries fought and scrambled to take his left, dragging extra chairs around him once the opposite side of the table was full. Normally the comedy would make me laugh . . . if it wasn't so creepy.

  I could only assume the blonde beauty, Glistenda, was their leader. She glided—nay, floated—regally across the snow-kissed ground. After that, her table manners ended, and she ripped a lid (made from ice) from the pudding and tilted the whole carton up against her mouth to gulp it all down. Hobs picked up a drumstick, and I watched in pure torture. Babs waited for my lead. "Go ahead, eat!" I told her behind my hand.

  She picked up her spoon and carved out some ice cream for herself. I was never more jealous of faeries than at that moment. Bugul wouldn't touch the food. I put a staying hand on Babs before she could get the ice cream into her mouth. "What's wrong with it?" I asked Bugul.

  Of course, he couldn't answer. "He prefers slugs and grubs," Hobs explained.

  ". . . and eating small children," a nymph suggested with a mouthful of food. She giggled, and some of her soup slid out her mouth. She didn't bother to wipe it off her chin.

  "No, he doesn't," Hobs began. For once his need for accuracy overcame his need to joke.

  "And he smashes small villages with his club and kills cattle . . ." the beautiful nymph said.

  "Not really."

  "Don't argue with me." The nymph attacked the ice cream next and it dribbled onto her chin and neck. "How could he not? The Leprechaun is hideous."

  "And of course that means he's bad," Hobs said sarcastically. The girls nodded, a few heads disappearing into their bowls of food. Hobs gav
e Bugul an apologetic shrug of the shoulders.

  A Leprechaun? I never imagined a Leprechaun would look like Bugul. No green outfit or shoes, no pink cheeks, no perpetual smile. He just sat there, giving us all a cynical look. I wasn't sure why Hobs even bothered to talk sense into these nymphs anyway. I suspected they liked his attention, even when it was negative.

  "Oh, but you're different," one of them said, batting her thick lashes at him. "You're bad and beautiful, Hobs." They all giggled. My mouth dropped. Sure, he was annoying, but bad? Like evil?

  After gauging my reaction, Hobs introduced a change of subject, "Ever heard of Merrow?" Now, that I was interested in. "Not only are they bad and beautiful," he said, "they prey on the fancies of their victims. Just like some girls I know." He yelped. One of the nymphs gave him a benign smile in return. His eyes turned cold and he rubbed at his knee. "Like I said."

  "Yes, don't judge a book by its cover," I recapped quickly.

  "You were talking of Merrow?" the mischievous nymph reminded him. She narrowed her sparkling emerald eyes at me. "C'mon, eat, you oaf! It's the finest food in the Sidhe."

  I was sure that it was. My stomach growled, which reminded me. I turned aside to Hobs. "Is the food okay for Babs?"

  He shrugged, only picking at it. Still, it couldn't be poisoned since he had chanced a few bites. "The nymphs cooked it. They aren't much for domestic skills. They have other skills, of course . . ."

  I didn't want to hear it. "Go ahead," I told Babs. She lifted the ice cream to her mouth, and Hobs casually jerked her spoon away from her before she could get it in. He flicked the ice cream over his shoulder, spoon and all. Her mouth fell open.

  "Don't bother. It tastes like dirt," he said.

  I doubted it. There was something wrong with it. The girls were hanging all over Hobs, their hair getting into his food, and that ruined my appetite too . . . in a lot of ways. They also seemed genuinely interested in what he had packed from the Otherworld. A few of them found the backpack and rummaged through it. "What did you bring us, Hobany?"

  He brought his eyes up to the sky, easily playing the role of martyr. "Oh, I don't know if I can bear to part with this stuff."

  True to form, they giggled. Glistenda stole the backpack and overturned it onto the messy table. Everything tumbled out: cotton—we needed that for earplugs! A blindfold that was for the much-dreaded love potion, my book of faerytales that still in no way resembled the faeries here, ugly pink lipstick, crystals from our chandelier. I stiffened. How did he get those? My mom would be furious! Did Hobs pack nothing useful? The nymphs hunted through the useless items, gasping in pleasure. Bubbles held up the only useful thing, the blindfold. "What about this?"

  Hobs heaved a long and dramatic sigh and I knew the bartering was about to start. "You're not getting that off me. I'll need it if I see something I can't resist."

  Bubbles looked angry. "Why don't you need it now?"

  "I like what I see."

  What a liar! But it did the trick, and she simpered. "I'll give you faery dust for it. It'll do the same thing."

  "Faery dust? C'mon, I can just shake that off a sprite."

  "Try to catch one."

  He made a show of reluctance. "Deal." She hopped up in joy, clapping her hands and twirling, kicking the snow into a dust devil behind her.

  Sparkle grabbed a gum wrapper. "What's this?"

  "You can stick your gum in it."

  "Gum?"

  "It lasts you forever."

  "Oh. Forever!" She crinkled it in her hand and liked the noise. "How about a love potion for it?" She pulled out a bottle of black sparkly potion and held it under Hobs' nose. "Black for the color of your heart . . . or maybe for your eyes." She gazed deeply into his and sighed lovingly. "If you want, you can use it on me."

  "Use it on me," the girls shouted in an ugly unison.

  "No, me!"

  "Me!"

  Hobs hurriedly stole the potion from her. "I'll take it."

  "What are you doing, Hobs?" I whispered.

  "Confiscating."

  I couldn't imagine anything more dangerous than a love potion in his possession, but I wasn't about to argue with him. It was like arguing with a guy holding a gun.

  "I'll take these for a sneeze!" A nymph had already gotten into my pink lipstick. It was all over her face, and she threw down a packet of sneezes for it. At least that's what she said it was. It looked like a teabag.

  Before I could get a good look at it, another nymph pressed in. "Hobs, I want the earrings!" My mother's chandelier crystals? A nymph traded a bracelet for them and danced away with them on her ears. The nymph with the lipstick was now covering her arms with the fascinating pink stuff.

  "How about this?" Glistenda's knowing look wasn't lost on me. She had our book of faerytales in her grip. Bugul's face tightened. According to Hobs, it was our map out of here. We couldn't lose it.

  Before I could argue, I watched Hobs mold the expression on his face into one of absolute boredom. "That stupid thing? Take it."

  I jerked in surprise, but she just threw it into the backpack until she found something better belted across his chest. Her fingers caressed the strap. "How about your bow?"

  "You'd leave me without a weapon? You really don't care about me, do you Glistenda?"

  "Of course I do. Just take me with you. I'll protect you."

  He blanched and she didn't miss it. Once again, her beautiful eyes transformed into vengeful slits. "Okay." Her voice went husky. "Then what about these?" Her hands skipped over the stuffed animals and the unmatched sock until she found the cotton. "I need something to plug my ears. Things can get pretty . . . complicated with all the festivities we have around here." She met his eyes evenly, and I knew that she was planning on making things complicated.

  "What's the trade?" Hobs asked slowly.

  "Frog's breath."

  "Sounds delightful."

  "And nymph kisses," another nymph suggested, wrapping her arms around his neck, "for when I'm not here for you."

  I frowned, but he smiled. "That would be perfect, Orange Blossom."

  "Peach Blossom," she corrected with crazed delight, and danced away.

  "Yeah."

  "So, it's a deal." It wasn't a question, and Glistenda swept the cotton away from our reach, setting the frog's breath and nymph kisses heavily down on the table in clever little capsules and lotion containers. Judging by her catlike expression, she had no intention of letting us use them.

  Bugul glared across the table at her. It intimidated me, but Glistenda dimpled prettily. Her dainty fingers traveled across the table to take Hobs' hand. He unobtrusively picked up the frog's breath, at the same time flicking her off like a speck of dust on his sleeve. She'd be a complete moron not to notice. She shot him a dirty look.

  "And how about a way to cross Crystal Lake?" he asked.

  "Swim," Glistenda said. Her beautiful eyes were on me.

  Sparkle was horrified. "And get drowned by Merrow? Poor Hobany! No!"

  "Who knows?" Bubbles said with a glittery little snort. "Hobs, they might spare you because you are so beautiful . . . and kill her!"

  Yeah, I got it. No one liked me. What did they think Hobs and I had going? I thought of slapping him to ease their minds, but knew that would only confirm their suspicions.

  Glistenda bobbed her head grandly. "Ah yes, that's an idea. Perhaps that's your problem, Hobany. This girl. Where did you find this oaf—in some trashy sixties diner?"

  I winced, wondering if Hobs would ever defend my honor. He met my eyes, at least having the decency to look apologetic. "She's a keeper, actually, of poor little Babs." Glistenda didn't favor Babs with her disinterested glance—she just glowered at me. Hobs' expression hardened. "I wouldn't waste my time with her, Glistenda."

  "No, you wouldn't. Why's Bugul here? She must be something special for the faery queen to send him." Glistenda had it wrong, but Hobs didn't bother to let her in on the secret that the faery queen had sent him instead, and
that he was protecting a princess, not some clumsy oaf like me. There was no telling what the nymphs would do if they found out Babs was royalty. Glistenda watched me wickedly, and I knew I was in for it. "Would you like to hear a song?" she asked.

  If you hear the music, run. It echoed through my head, and the tiara glowed through the dark forest. Glistenda's quick eyes caught the magical reaction. "What is this?" She pushed the stack of my hair away from my tiara and stiffened. "What is going on here, Hobany?" Hobs stayed rebelliously silent, and Glistenda straightened, trying to look clever and failing miserably. She got angry instead. "It seems you are special, oaf." Her eyes went to Hobs. "I don't do this often, but since you are more than you appear, I shall grant you a wish. Any wish. Just make it quick."

  Hobs didn't give me time to think of one. He threw his chair back in his haste. "A toast." He raised an icy glass in the air. The contents smoked out and curled around his hand. "In gratitude to the nymphs for this splendid meal!"

  Never thank a faery. I didn't need the tiara's reminder. The nymphs were groaning in response. It actually physically hurt them. And I thought I was a rule breaker? Hobs continued to thank them in his merciless way. "So, thank you, girls, for the food, the fun, the flirting. My appreciation exceeds all bounds. In every language: Merci! Danke! Tak! Salamat! Gracias! Dhanyawaad! Thank you!"

  They gasped in pain and he grinned broadly, enjoying himself for the first time since his visit to the forest. I threw my hands over Babs' ears. She was a faery, so it was probably hurting her too. But she didn't seem to be in pain at all—it must only affect those who were getting thanked. "I thought you weren't supposed to say that," I yelled at Hobs.

  "Yeah, it really annoys them."

  So much that it hurt? I guess that was how the shoemaker got rid of his helpful little elves. They must've been nasty little pests. Glistenda rose to her full height, her scarlet dress billowing around her legs, looking splendid and furious all at once. "I'll get you for this, Hobany!"

  "Thanks!" he returned glibly.

  She shuddered. "Get out of here, you prince! I shan't give you your wish now, my girl, but a curse." I was shocked. Nymphs switched dramatically from love-struck to hatred in a very short time. Of course, Glistenda had always hated me, but I thought she was a little better at hiding her feelings than that.

  "Why, thank you." I shot to my feet. "You are such a dear! I'm so grateful!"

  Hobs choked in surprise, but then he looked proud.

  Glistenda howled in pain, not able to get the curse out. "Go on!" she blubbered. "Take your chances with Crystal Lake! Swim if you have to!" It wasn't exactly a curse, but it still didn't sound good.

  "Thanks!" Hobs wrapped a hand around my arm, then grabbed Babs. We shoved past the table. The nymphs' exquisite tableware crashed against the ground into a million pieces of ice, and the girls shrieked and jumped back, saving their super-cute slippers from the spill. I murmured my apologies. Hobs wrenched me away.

  Bugul carved a trail ahead of us. Everywhere he went, the girls screamed and propelled backwards. I was pretty sure Bugul was on our side now—even if he hadn't been before, the nymphs had sealed the deal. We were the lesser of two evils. They danced out of the way, paddling their arms through the air and falling inelegantly against the snow in their haste to avoid touching him. "Oooh! Ick!" they shrilled out in supersonic voices.

  Hobs glowered at them. We rushed under the glistening branches of the forest, far from the nymphs' sensitive ears. Our feet stamped our shoe sizes and brands into the snow, leaving our tracks behind. The forest breathed silently down on us. So far, the nymphs hadn't started their revelries, but it was only a matter of time before they got their revenge on us.

  "I know where they dock their boats," Hobs said between breaths. Bugul stormed through the forest ahead, swinging his club to clear the foliage. A green swamp overflowed over the snowy banks. It looked like thick pea soup mixed with healthy chunks of seaweed and algae. Steam drifted over the surface of the bog. One dip in it, and it would swallow us whole.

  "Don't worry. This isn't as bad as the nymphs made it out to be." Hobs skidded to a stop, and Babs and I plowed into him. He twisted and rammed his shoulder into me to stop me from flying face-first into the swamp. I half-expected another faery swear out of him when I saw the panic in his eyes; it made me completely doubt his words. This place was bad.

  "Don't you have anything nice here?" I shouted. "Like unicorns?"

  Hobs rolled his eyes. "Where do you think we are? The land of fantasy and rainbows?" Well, yeah. "There is nothing that pure here." Bugul was already untying the boat from the docks. After making sure Babs and I were settled far from the banks of the swamp near the tree line, Hobs joined him, looking huffy.

  Whatever was in that water was dangerous. There had to be a way out of this. "Won't the nymphs want an exchange for their boat?" I asked.

  "I'm terrified of what they'd try to give us in return." Hobs' fingers fumbled over the side of the boat. "No, I'll take a chance with their wrath. They'll get over it. They always do. Well, with me, anyway. They'll just give you a bad make-over and turn your skin inside out. Didn't you hear Glistenda? She actually tried to give you a wish."

  I swallowed back the dry feeling in my throat. "What's so bad about a wish?"

  He laughed without humor. "Try it if you don't believe me, but personally, I'd consider the source. Nymph wishes are dangerous. Wish to be rich, famous, live forever. It doesn't matter, somehow you'll end up dead—especially if the nymphs hate you. I knew they'd be jealous of you."

  Of me and Hobs? Or was it because of something else? I hugged Babs close to me. At least she was safe from them. They hadn't spared her a glance.

 

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