Trapped

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Trapped Page 18

by Jessica Lynch


  They’re apples. Pretty pink apples.

  Just like the one that got me addicted to faerie food in the first place.

  “What’s this for?” I ask.

  “For you. A gift, Elle. Take them.”

  “I will.” I have no choice. Letting anyone else know about my weakness when it comes to faerie food… no, thanks. Except it seems as if Saxon knows. “But, um, why?”

  He seems satisfied as soon as I agree to accept the bag of apples. Once I’ve turned the bag, angling it so that I can see the pretty pink skin of the nearest apple peeking out from the top, Saxon nods.

  He waves, gesturing at the bag. “Rys warned me that you would need them. There’s enough that, should you savor the bites, it’ll last you for quite some time. By then, things should settle down some to make regular deliveries into the Iron.”

  I don’t bother telling him that that won’t be necessary. He doesn’t know what my escape from Siúcra cost me, and it’s not like I’m about to share that. I don’t offer to give the apples back, either. I’ve already learned that the fae tend to get offended when someone refuses their gifts. I’m not about to bring more trouble down on my head because I’ve got issues when it comes to these weirdo Faerie apples.

  Instead, I peer up at him. My mouth has gone super dry all of a sudden. I wish I could risk a sip from my wine but, yeah. That’s not going to happen.

  Rys warned me…

  I don’t know what’s worse: that he talks about Rys like he knows him as more than another prisoner, or that Rys arranged for this guard to bring me a bag of Faerie apples.

  “When did you talk to Rys?” I ask. “Was he here?” If so, he’s not here now. “He told me to wait for him here. Where is he?”

  Saxon cocks his head just enough to watch me curiously, almost like he’s a scientist examining an unfamiliar specimen. “He told you to wait for him here, or to wait here?”

  That’s a good question. After telling everyone that I was supposed to wait for him, now that Saxon asks me that, I… don’t actually remember his exact words. I mean, everything was happening so fast and Rys must’ve gone over his plan a hundred times.

  Shoot. I’m lucky I found the inn at all.

  With a shrug that’s nowhere near as careless as it seems, I ask him, “Does it matter?”

  Turns out that the answer to that is a big ol’ yes.

  18

  “Names aren’t the only things that have power, Elle. So do words. I can tell you now, Rys must’ve made it clear that you were to wait here and you did. But you weren’t waiting for him.” He pauses, then pulls his mug toward him again. This time, his sips are dainty, and he dabs the corner of his mouth with a napkin when the fairy wine is gone. “I’m sure you’ve figured that out by now. You’ve been waiting for me.”

  Figured it out?

  I wish.

  Oh, this is bad. Really bad. I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m beginning to suspect that, somewhere along the way, I’ve been tricked.

  Again.

  Jesus, my track record in Faerie is the pits. Only it wasn’t a pixie or a pair of dwarves or a redcap auctioneer who fooled me this time, but the fae male that I gave a piece of my soul to.

  And, damn it, my heart.

  “Why you?”

  Saxon doesn’t say anything.

  “Why was I waiting for you?” I ask him again. “Where’s Rys?”

  For the first time since I joined him at the table, Saxon glances behind him. I don’t know what it is that he sees, but it has the Seelie grabbing the hem of his hood, covering up his trademark tawny hair.

  “It’s not a good idea to continue this conversation here,” he says in a low voice. “You never know who’s listening. Do you need to retrieve anything from your quarters?”

  Considering all I have are the clothes on my back and I’m wearing them, I shake my head.

  “Good. Then come with me.”

  Hang on a sec—

  My first instinct is to say no. To just shut him down outright. There’s only one person in Faerie that I think I might trust right now and, surprise, it’s not one of the prison guards who turned their backs on me.

  Maybe I’m letting my emotions get the better of me. What do I really know about Rys? Only what he told me, and while it has to be the truth, it seemed like half the time he was making himself out to be the villain so that I wouldn’t fall for him.

  Kind of late for that, huh?

  Ugh. Now that I’ve sacrificed my promise ring—sacrificed my old life with Jim, and any hope of going home again—there’s no reason not to put it out there. I’m attracted to Rys. His scar appeals to me, the quiet way he provides for me, protecting me… there’s something there.

  It’s one thing to try and fool myself that I seduced Rys because I wanted to convince him to escape Siúcra and take me with him. But if giving it up to a guy to save my skin was my only reason, then why didn’t I let Veron touch me? I would’ve saved myself all that time behind a cell if I did.

  And that’s the truth of it. It wasn’t just about the sex. It was about connection. I felt something brewing between Rys and me from the beginning. He might’ve ignored it at first, and I tried to, too, but even the small things he did for me had me falling further under his spell.

  Rys has never given me any reason to doubt him. He told me to come to the inn and wait. That’s what I should do.

  Of course, then I remember that the huldra tried to drug me with the fairy wine and I have second thoughts about staying behind in the inn. Especially since, now that we’ve overheard some of the guards talking about the rebellion, I might not only be destined for the auction block.

  I’m human. If I cross the wrong creature, I could be dead meat.

  When I hesitate a moment too long, Saxon leans back in his seat. “It’s alright. You have nothing to fear from me. You’re not my enemy.”

  What a strange way to put it. And, regardless of why he said that, I’m glad he did. Something tells me that I wouldn’t want Saxon for my enemy. Dusk was bad enough, but at least he was honest about who and what he was. The Unseelie never tried to get me to like him. He wanted to rule me, to own me, to touch me, and he never once hid that.

  But Saxon… all along, he was just another guard. One of too many to count, and the only reason why I even could pick him out from the others was that he was one of the first of the guards I met—plus I beaned him in the head with my apple in order to get thrown into the oubliette.

  Crap. I should be his enemy.

  Unless—

  He studies me closely. I watch him back, trying to make sense of this meet. Rys told me to find this inn if we were separated so I did, but how did Saxon know to find me here? Either his position as guard meant he could follow me through the prison’s portal or...

  “It’s you,” I whisper. I feel so stupid that it took me this long to realize it.

  He doesn’t say anything in response. I know he heard me. His nostrils flare, his flawless features getting a kind of pinched look, but he stays quiet.

  And I’m suddenly positive that my wild guess is spot-on. It makes too much sense for it not to be.

  “No. I’m right. You… you’re the one who’s been helping Rys.”

  I think back to the night when I heard Rys whispering with one of the guards. I didn’t recognize who it was, but, hey, it could’ve been Saxon. And then there’s the way he persuaded Dusk to put me in my original cell in the first place. They’d made it seem like it was just another way to taunt Rys, but was it really?

  Plus, he’s here. There’s no denying that. He’s here, waiting where Rys is supposed to be, and he has the apples that Rys warned him that I might need.

  “Why would you help him?” I blurt out. “Help us?”

  “Rys knows why. I’d tell you to ask your questions to him, but…” Saxon pushes his chair away from the table before getting to his feet. It’s a clear signal that our talk is over. And if I want to continue it… yeah. That’s
pretty clear, too, when he adds, “Come with me, Elle. It would be a mistake if you refused. I can tell you more about Rys if you follow me. If you don’t… believe me when I tell you that you won’t last the night.”

  That’s all I need to hear really. The promise of learning more about Rys and his motives has me halfway out of my seat, but the reminder that the seemingly friendly faces inside of the inn are just waiting for me to slip up before they pounce has me ready to snag his cloak so he can’t leave me behind.

  “Um. I should probably apologize. For the apple core. I didn’t mean to hit you in the head.”

  “I’m certain you didn’t. Now follow behind me. Keep no more than a few steps between us. Don’t speak until I tell you you can.”

  I have half a mind to flip him the bird once his back is turned. He didn’t say I couldn’t do that. But, since he seems so serious, I settle on agreeing with a soft sound before following directly in his path.

  I thought we were heading right outside where it was private. Nope. Saxon leads me on a hike through the woods, moving at a blistering pace. It reminds me of our race through Siúcra’s back hallways, only then Rys kept peeking behind him to make sure I was still with him. Saxon doesn’t seem to care if he loses me or not.

  It seems like forever before he slows down, slipping between a column of long, narrow trees that guard an open clearing. It’s so out in the middle of the forest that I’m betting no one will hear us.

  Just in case, I wait for the guard to give me some sign that it’s safe. Which he does when he waves at the empty space and asks me, “What do you see?”

  I don’t see anything.

  Grass?

  Dirt?

  More trees?

  I shake my head.

  “Look closer.”

  This is weird. I don’t know what he thinks I’m supposed to see, but I squint and shrug. “There’s nothing here. Is there supposed to be?”

  “Here. Take this. It might help.”

  Saxon pulls something from inside his cloak. He holds out a rock, gesturing for me to offer him my hand. He’s careful not to brush against me as he drops it into my waiting palm.

  “What’s this?”

  “A seeing stone. It’s charmed to help those without the sight look through glamour. See the hole in the middle of the stone? Lift it to your gaze and stare right through it. You might just see what’s really there.”

  I’ve learned better than to second guess the magic in Faerie. I lift the stone up to my face, squinting one eye so that I’m focusing with the other.

  An instant later, I gasp.

  He’s right. I… I see.

  At first, there’s a whisper of something small. Tiny winged creatures—the quintessential fairy—flutter about a foot off the grass. As I watch, though, the scene changes. The tiny critters start to stretch, start to grow, until they’re taller than I am.

  And they’re naked.

  It’s a mix of male and female fae, both Light and Dark. Their bodies collide. Some are dancing, some are caressing each other, and a bunch of them are going at it right in front of me.

  Holy shit. I’m looking at some kind of fae orgy going on.

  There’s a ghostly quality to it. If I reached my hand through the scene, I wouldn’t be able to touch anything. It’s a memory. It happened once before—

  —and the land remembers.

  That’s what my mother told me once upon a time. In her stories about Faerie, when she spun tales about a magical world and the fairy circles that guard the veil.

  I swivel, taking the seeing stone with me as I move. Beyond the faes fucking right in front of me, I see a ring of toadstools that would’ve been the perfect size for the tiny fairies that I first saw.

  I’ve seen those mushrooms before.

  Lowering the seeing stone, I whirl on Saxon. “It’s a fairy circle, isn’t it?”

  He nods. “It was. Once. It still connects the veil to Faerie. If you step through it, it should bring you back to the Iron.”

  His words crash into me like a wave. I stumble, almost disbelieving it.

  The Iron. The human world.

  My world.

  I could go home. Jim is waiting for me. I could see him again and…

  Jesus, I don’t even know if my boyfriend is still hoping I’ll come back. That he didn’t just give up on me when I disappeared into the park with my phone and a bad attitude.

  That he didn’t already move on.

  Not that I would blame him. I… I did, didn’t I?

  Thirty. If my count is right, I’ve been trapped in Faerie for about a month. But time doesn’t flow the same way here. That’s what Rys said.

  I look down at my hand. There’s a patch of pale pink skin, shiny and raw from where my ring stayed these last eight years. I rarely took it off since the day Jim gave it to me and it feels… weird now that it’s gone.

  It feels even weirder that I clung to it for far longer than I should’ve.

  From the moment I made a conscious decision to seduce Rys, I told myself that I wanted the chance to see Jim again. I felt like I needed to explain my actions, give him close because I know—even if I don’t want to admit it—that my inexplicable disappearance would’ve been hell on him. One day or thirty, it’s all the same. He deserved to know that I never meant to walk out on him.

  We both need the closure.

  I wanted to say goodbye, too. I gave up on that when I was face to face with the portal in the gate because my sacrifice meant I’d never see Jim again.

  And now Saxon is telling me that it’s possible? That all I have to do is walk through this fairy circle, bring my bag of charmed apples with me, and I can pretend my time in Faerie was nothing but a bad dream for a while?

  But what about Rys? To go back to Jim—to go back home again—I’d have to leave behind another guy without saying goodbye.

  For some reason, the idea of abandoning Rys hurts even more than it did when I thought I was giving up Jim...

  “I… I can’t. I have to wait for Rys. I said I would.”

  “I told you that, if you came with me, I would tell you more about Rysdan.”

  He did. I thought Saxon only said that because it was the carrot that got me moving so I didn’t bother holding him to it.

  From the way his golden gaze flashes toward the spot where the fairy circle once was, I have a sinking suspicion that Rys has something to do with it.

  And then there’s the way he uses that name again…

  I wave at the grass, gesturing toward the space. “Does he know about this?”

  “He does.”

  “You’re kidding me.”

  Saxon shakes his head. “The truth is that he sent me here for this purpose. He wants you to take the circle back. He wants you to leave Faerie.”

  I don’t know if I should be angry or hurt. “And he couldn’t tell me himself?”

  “No.” With a solemn frown, the Seelie guard says, “Siúcra demands a sacrifice.”

  “I know that.”

  “I won’t ask you what you gave to the prison to be set free. But Rys… he sacrificed his soul mate.” He turns. The frown slides from his face, an emotionless mask taking its place seconds before he drops the bomb: “He sacrificed you.”

  What?

  “Me?”

  “You’re his ffrindau. His mate. He didn’t want to believe it, but he must now. He promised his ffrindau to Siúcra in order to escape. If you were who he feared you were, once the prison let you go, he’d never see you again.”

  “So he knew we would be separated.” I think of what he said to me. How we might be separated and that I should go to the inn and wait. “And… he sent you?”

  The only guard in Siúcra that he trusted because, for whatever reasons, Saxon owes him. And because, all along, Rys has had a plan for everything.

  “Yes. I gave him my word that I’d see you to the fairy circle. It’s not safe for you here, Elle. Rys understood that even if I can’t say that I do. The
re’s nothing in either world that’s worth losing the one thing I want, but he chose your safety over his own happiness. Don’t make his sacrifice be in vain. Go home. It’s where you belong.”

  No. It’s where I used to belong. It’s where Helen Andrews belonged.

  But Elle…

  But Leannán…

  I palm the seeing stone, squeezing it so tightly that the smooth edge of the rock bites into my flesh. “And you’re sure that the fairy circle will bring me back home?”

  “Sure enough.”

  That’s not a yes.

  My mind is racing. I’m still stunned that I’m supposed to be Rys’s mate—that he guessed all along—and that he purposely sacrificed me to break out of Siúcra.

  I don’t get it, though. I’m so confused.

  The fairy circle shouldn’t work. Not if my sacrifice meant anything. I gave up my ring as well as any chance of going home. Since that’s all I’ve wanted since I came to Faerie, it was the only sacrifice that was big enough to get me out of Siúcra.

  I look at the patch of grass. Without the seeing stone, that’s all it is. The memory of what was there is still playing out in my mind’s eye.

  Soul mate. That’s what Saxon said. I’m Rys’s soul mate—and he gave me up.

  Oh, hell no.

  I step away from the circle.

  “I’m not going. Not until I talk to Rys.”

  “You’re making a mistake.”

  Yeah. Probably.

  Walking into a fairy circle in the first place had been a biggie. Following the pixie, trusting the dwarves, pissing off Lord Veron… all goofs I’ve made since I’ve been in Faerie. Eating faerie food. Toasting Dusk when the Unseelie guard tried to put his paws on me.

  Falling for a Seelie male who can rule me with only a touch...

  I shrug, and tell Saxon honestly, “Won’t be my first.”

  And I know, deep down, that it won’t be my last, either.

  He sighs. “It would’ve been easier if you just went through on your own.”

  “Huh?”

  “I wish it didn’t have to happen this way.” He steps toward me. His hands disappear beneath his cloak. When he reveals them again, he’s clutching a pair of those diamaint gloves. “Still, it’s part of the bargain.”

 

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