Home > Nectar of the Wicked(3)

Nectar of the Wicked(3)
Author: Ella Fields

Faeries ushered some of the treasure aside, presumably what they considered high value, as we awaited permission to step forward.

I’d been too preoccupied with attempting to read the titles of the books to notice Rolina’s patience had run dry yet again.

I should have known it would. Regardless, shock seized me as she daringly crossed the grass floor of the tent to the creatures who sat at the trade table.

“Lady,” snapped the same male who’d halted us upon our entry. “You will wait to be called forth.”

My mouth opened and closed, fear and mortification keeping me frozen.

“I’ve waited long enough,” Rolina said. “Twenty years, to be exact.”

Unsure what to do, I gave the faerie what I hoped was an apologetic look and hesitantly trailed Rolina.

The male frowned. I feared he would throw us out when the creature who seemed to be in charge drawled in a cutting tone from his high-back chair behind the table, “Then, by all means, do show us what you’ve got that is of such importance.”

All kinds of folk lived in the middle lands.

But I’d never seen a being quite like this one.

He had the body of a giant man and a head that resembled a serpent. Where most men would have facial hair, scales flanked his cheeks. An off-green hue darkened his forehead and brightened his reptilian eyes. A sheet of parchment hung between his fingers. Each scaled hand had only four, half the length of a typical faerie digit. Darkened nails sprouted and curled, resembling sharpened claws.

“... she is clearly not mine.”

Busy studying the male’s unique features, I almost missed the exchange between him and Rolina.

“Why wait this long to bring her to our attention?” the male said, seeming more interested in an old watch he lifted to inspect closely. “There is nothing to be done—”

“Why wait?” My eyes widened as Rolina hissed, “Because the hunt do not trade with anyone under the age of twenty years.”

Those strange eyes flashed back to the flustered woman beside me, and I was certain the scaled faerie hadn’t once even glanced at me. “If she is indeed a changeling and you’ve kept her for all these years, then I’m afraid there is nothing that I nor anyone else can do for you. Your lost offspring is likely dead.” He looked at a male with similar scaled features who’d stepped forward. He gestured for us to be escorted out, then looked at the tent entrance. “Bring in the next.”

That was it.

My ears filled with a screeching buzz. Something cracked within my chest.

It widened as Rolina refused to heed the dismissal.

“Wait, wait,” she pleaded, her sharp tone now gentling with panic. “Please, I just know that if we tried—”

“Hush.” I placed my hand upon her upper arm and clasped it firmly in warning. “Come, we need to go.” It was far from wise to anger one of the Fae. Especially the hunt, who belonged to no royal house and therefore did not need to abide by their rules.

It happened too fast for my tense limbs to respond.

I was shoved with enough force to send me stumbling face-first into the trade table.

My hands grasped it, nearly tipping the heavy metal over as I righted myself. Fear hitched my instant apology, but no one was paying me any mind.

Everyone in the tent had risen to their feet. Every eye was pinned to my incensed guardian.

“I don’t want her!” Rolina screamed. “Twenty fucking years I’ve waited for this night. Twenty years I’ve waited and hoped for the return of my real daughter, you filthy, cheating, vermin scum—” Before she could utter another word, her eyes went wide.

Her thin frame went eerily still.

Then crumpled to the grass.

Fright and shock became a storm that emptied my mind and lungs as I beheld the corpse of the woman who’d given me both refuge and peril. The guardian who’d kept me alive but had smothered something fundamental inside me.

The monster who’d held me captive while never wanting me at all.

All of it—gone.

So many years of hoping and planning just...

Done.

My throat constricted. My eyes burned. “No,” I rasped and fell to my knees. I crawled to her, pulled her close, but I needn’t have bothered. I knew. I could already hear it.

Nothing.

Her heart was as good as stone. Unseeing eyes bulged, wide open beneath the orbs of firelight bobbing across the tent ceiling. Closing them with trembling fingers, I bowed my head, unsure how I was supposed to get her home. I could carry her, but then what?

My skin hummed in warning. I glanced up to find a silver mist descending.

“Get back,” a sharp voice commanded. “Unless you wish to join her in the pits of Nowhere.”

I dropped Rolina to the grass and shuffled back on my rear a second before the mist met her lifeless body. It seemed I wouldn’t need to fret about burying her—as right before my very eyes, she began to decompose.

Living in this prison of eternal in-between with both creature and human, I’d heard and seen a great deal of odd things. Magic used for entertainment, miraculous healing, and plenty of stealing. I’d even seen someone shapeshift for coin on the street. But this...

I couldn’t look away. The grass, soil, and even some weeds glowed brighter as if hit by a flare of sunlight.

As if they were absorbing Rolina’s flesh and bones like one would a hearty meal.

Someone cursed and groaned. “Every fucking time you’re here, I swear.”

A female snorted. “Never can help yourself, Vin.”

Laughter sounded. A roaring and unfitting orchestra that reminded me where I was and what could befall me.

“Your tyrant, I presume?” That voice again. The one that had told me to move. It was different. Not the same as the snake-skinned male who’d refused to trade with us.

I didn’t ask if he’d ended Rolina’s life. I supposed I didn’t need to know. She was gone, and trying to swallow that was more than enough for right now. I couldn’t have asked a thing if I’d tried, being that I couldn’t seem to make words form to answer his simple question.

Hands snuck under my arms, lifting me from the ground.

Instinct returned. I whirled as we exited the tent, smacking the male’s hard chest to be set down. The breeze gathered force, reviving me enough to realize I was making a grave error. But it was too late.

He dropped me to my feet and snatched my wrist, though not as violently as Rolina was prone to—had been prone to.

Sharp like the edge of a blade and as rough as a stone used to sharpen it, his low voice lured my eyes to his. “You might be lovely to look at, but that doesn’t mean I won’t kill you.”

My eyes widened upon his, and my cheeks bloomed with both anger and terror.

Eyes of molten gold gazed down at me, then narrowed. His large hand was cool, the pads of his fingers roughened, as he lowered my own.

I blinked and pulled my hand to my chest, cradling it although he hadn’t hurt me. Peering behind me to the tent, I stepped back from him before he did.

But looking was pointless when I’d seen it happen. There would be no trace of the woman I’d spent my entire life with. There was only a portable house of horrors veiled behind impenetrable canvas blending perfectly with the night.

“You...” I swallowed. “You killed her.”

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