Five.
Four.
Three.
Two.
Then air whooshes back into my lungs, and I drop to the ground, tears painting my cheeks.
“You nearly killed me,” I shout, gulping air.
He laughs. The prick actually laughs.
“Think yourself lucky that I did not.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Why not? Shut up and get on the horse, and I’ll try not to kill you again until after your audience with the queen. And there’s no point running, human-girl. Should I wish to, I can finish you with a flick of my hand.”
His smile is brilliant and proud, and completely devoid of empathy. In an instant, all of Mom’s artworks come rushing back. The strange, jewel-colored lands. The seductive beings with cold, cruel eyes. Her warning.
And this arrogant, psychotic huntsman, who I’ve come to think of as Never, looks exactly like the boys in her paintings. Which means my mother has most definitely been here. And this place must be Ella’s Land of Five.
Think, Lara. Think.
To him, I’m an annoying burden. He doesn’t care if I live or die. How can I change that?
Mom once said fae folk love a lark. So, quickly, I need to make a game of my presence. I could sing for him. I could… wait… I have an idea.
“Fine,” I say, tucking strands of hair behind my ears. “I promise to travel with you without fuss for a simple trade.”
His eyes light up. “A trade? But what need do I have for a bargain when I can make you do my bidding?”
“But that’s boring! Why would you want to do that? You must be worried I can make a better deal than you. That’s why you hesitate.”
“Ha! You are amusing, little Lara.”
“How long is the journey to your court?”
“It is but two nights and two days.”
“Okay. Then all I want are the answers to three questions. That’s it. Give them to me, and I promise not to try and escape. Not even once.”
Languidly, he strokes his bottom lip. “So, I could leave you on a log, go fishing for several hours, and find you waiting there when I return?”
“Yes. It’ll make life easy for you. You’ll barely have to bother about me. You can relax. And if I go back on my word, make me lick your boots for seven years straight. Or turn me into something amusing.”
“How about a steaming troll’s turd who sings at every full moon?”
Does he know I can sing? I shrug like I don’t care what he does to me. “If you like, sure.”
“I admit it’s an appealing idea.” He gives me a weary look that makes me fear he’s already lost interest. “Fine. Go ahead and make your vow. I will listen and may even choose to accept.”
Right. Now comes the hard part. I must select my words with care. The plan I’ve hatched requires a loophole in my vow.
Standing tall in my battered coat, purple waitress’s uniform, and ripped jeans, I don’t allow myself to think about how this dick just tried to kill me. Or what might happen on the way to his court… or when we arrive.
I smooth the hate from my expression and meet his stony gaze. “If you answer my following three questions truthfully, I vow I won’t try to get away from you for the next two nights and the next two days. If you allow it, for that period, I’ll stay by your side. And if I don’t, you can do whatever you want to me.”
“As I already pointed out, I don’t require a bargain to do whatever I want to you.” The smile he gives me is strange, smug but knowing. I wonder if he’s guessed what I’m up to and, like a typical fae, can’t resist the sport anyway.
Because, clever old me, with the way I’ve worded our bargain, all I need to do is stall our travels to be free of my promise. If the journey takes longer than two nights and two days, by then he’ll be used to my obedience, have forgotten the exact words of my vow and grown careless. Then I can sneak away, find a portal, and go home.
Yeah. The finding a portal part might be problematic. Anyway, if he agrees, I’ll have earned myself a possible means of ditching him. And what happens after that, well, that’s anyone’s guess.
He twists a red and gold ring around his finger, then smiles unpleasantly. “I accept. The bargain is struck.”
Jinn whinnies and Balor growls.
Maneuvering the restless horse closer, the huntsman laughs.
Foreboding seeps into my belly, and I incline my head calmly, like I negotiate with fae huntsmen on a regular basis.
“Ask your questions, human, then we ride.”
With another head dip, I say, “The first question is this: what did you do before to stop me from breathing?”
“Simple—air is mine. I am air. I withdrew myself, that is all.”
“Magic, then?”
“Yes. Is that your second question?”
“No. Question number two is: where is the nearest portal?”
I get the eye roll again. “I have no idea.”
Damn.
“Last question, then: I think you must be an Elemental fae. Is that true?”
His brows lift, and Jinn stomps the ground. “How would a mere mortal know that?”
That’s a yes, then.
Now probably isn’t the best time to mention my mother. “I met someone back in my world who painted your pictures on computers and told your stories.”
“Computers—more tedious things. Telling our stories is forbidden. Give me the name of this technology-loving human, and I will see to them.”
“I won’t.”
He stills, a snake readying to strike, and goosebumps creep over my skin.
“Well, not right now, but I might tell you at some point along our journey,” I back-pedal slightly. “That is, if you want to make another bargain or you’re really nice to me.”
Silver eyes flash as his torso bends quickly. Cool fingers wrap around my throat, and he says, “Do not test me, mortal. You remind me of a gyendad, a buzzing insect covered in spots, noisy, and most irritating. But hear this, freckled wasp—I would sooner squash you than consider earning your favor.”
That’s a very unfair statement; I don’t have that many freckles.
“You must belong to the Unseelie court, then,” I wheeze.
A sharp nail scratches my neck as his grip slowly loosens. “What gives you that idea?”
“Well, since you’re a foul-tempered, murderous bully, it seems the logical choice.”
I brace for pain, but he only smiles, slightly elongated incisors scraping over his bottom lip. “You are wrong. Elementals are of the bright court. We are Seelie.”
My muscles loosen in relief. “That’s great. So, you might help me, then?”
“And why should I do that?”
“Well, aren’t you Seelie faeries the good guys? You’re not plotting to end the human race or become our evil overlords, are you?”
Eyes flashing from silver to a fiery blue, his jagged laugh cuts through the air. “Like a wasp’s, your memory is short. Shall I remind you what the pain of collapsing lungs feels like?”
Thunder cracks the sky open, and his arm shoots out. “For the last time, take my hand, human, and alight before I decide to throw you in the creek as a treat for the Bean Fionn.”