Chapter 7
SO HE WAS name-dropping the whole “fae” thing, huh?
Maybe this was a test.
I was supposed to be a poor, dumb human who couldn’t recognize a bad deal—or a bad guy—even if she stared it in the face, right? Okay. I could play this game.
I blinked a few times, pretending shock, and shook my head. “Fae aren’t real,” I said in a breathy voice, pressing a hand to my chest.
He studied me for a beat and then turned to Lore with a sigh. “She knows.”
“Knows what?” I tried, but he ignored me.
“Did you tell her?”
Lore tilted her head as she frowned in my direction. “I might’ve mentioned it when we saw the boggart. I can’t remember.”
“A boggart is a fae, Lore.” Soren rubbed the creases in his forehead with a sigh. Such a human gesture.
But when he shifted in his chair, so did the shadows on the wall.
My eyes caught the outline of a silhouette.
I gasped. “You have wings!”
He dropped his hand to look at me, and something in my expression pulled a smile out of him. “See, now that is genuine surprise.”
Staring at the wingspan, I only half heard him. He was the only other winged fae I’d seen besides the fae with those iridescent wings that looked like fragile bubbles in the sunlight. If the shadows across the wall were any indication, his were much larger. And honestly, kind of elegant.
“Do they stay hidden like that, or can you make them fully visible?”
Soren’s eyes shuttered. “What exactly are you referring to?”
I scoffed. “I’m not stupid.” Waving at the wall behind him, I added, “They’re literally right there. I can see their shadow.”
He cleared his throat, looking down at his hands.
Lore pointedly turned away to fiddle with the teapot. “This is getting cold,” she said to no one in particular, picking up the tray. “I’m going to go make a new pot.”
She disappeared down one of the connecting tunnels.
“They were right there,” Soren said, finally answering my earlier question after a long pause, returning to his formal demeanor but not quite succeeding. “The shadows hold only the memory now, I promise you.”
“Where’d they go?” I asked, surprising myself again with my brazenness. There was something about falling down a hole into a totally different world that removed my usual reserve. Wandering over to the fireplace, I savored the warmth after spending the previous hour outside in the snow.
Frowning briefly, he then wiped his face of expression as he shifted items around on his desk, almost like he was avoiding looking at me. “I don’t believe that’s any of your business, is it?”
“I have an idea.” I turned to give him a fake smile. “Let’s make a deal, like you wanted—I’ll drop it if you give me a peek inside that book of yours.” Not only might it say where Dad, Rissa, and Olive had gone, but it might hold information on Mom too.
“Nice try,” he scoffed, but his shoulders relaxed slightly at the change in topic. Swiveling to face me, he leaned back in his chair. “Why do you want to know who came through here?”
I hesitated.
“They took my. . . people.” I didn’t trust him enough to reveal it was family.
The weird word vomit didn’t seem to apply as long as I didn’t mentally include Mom, but as soon as I thought of her, my throat closed up.
I coughed and turned my thoughts back to Dad, Rissa, and Olive.
“I followed them here, and I need to know where they went.” It went without saying that I planned to get them back.
“Your people.” He repeated the word. “I’m not familiar with this specific relation.”
He obviously wanted me to reveal more. Too bad. I turned to face the fire, holding my hands out to soak up the heat. “That’s just what we call people we know.”
He crossed his arms. “For a human, you really are a terrible liar.”
“It doesn’t matter who they are to me, does it?
The point is, I need to know where they went.
” I should’ve said “want.” I want to know.
“Need” sounded desperate. Which I was, but he didn’t need to know that.
Time to go with plan B. I steeled my voice.
“You said you like deals? What kind of deal would it take to get my family back?”
“Your family?” he repeated.
Crap.
I winced but didn’t say anything, staring into the fire. I couldn’t think of a way to pull my foot out of my mouth. Apparently, I played the “dumb human” role a little too well.
Moving away from the fire, I invited myself to sit on the couch. Time to shake it off and regain the upper hand. . . if I’d ever had it to begin with. The couch cushions begged me to sink into them, but I kept my spine stiff.
After a pause to consider me, he said, “You want my help finding them?”
“No.” If any of the books I’d read over the last week had any truth to them, the exact words of a deal mattered a lot. He was already twisting mine. “I don’t just want to find them. I want to get them out of here.”
He leaned forward a bit, unable to hide the way his eyes lit up. “What do you have to offer?”
I swallowed hard. When I’d imagined rescuing Mom from the fae, I’d considered lots of options, like big bags of cash or jewels—wishful thinking, obviously.
I’d also tossed around the idea of food or random things from home, like our TV or books or, heck, maybe all our socks, if that myth had turned out to be true.
I couldn’t see this Soren fellow’s feet behind his desk, but I got the sense he’d turn down a sock offer.
I’d even considered offering our house once but had quickly dropped the idea at the thought of fae living in town. The internet hadn’t been super clear on what they wanted from humans, so I’d never quite nailed anything down.
Chewing on my lip, I spread my arms wide, puffy coat swishing. “I don’t know. . . I don’t have anything except myself and the clothes I’m wearing.” And two garden-variety weapons in my pockets. But I wasn’t ready to give those up yet.
“Perfect, I’ll take it.” Soren’s deep voice brought me back to the present.
“What?” My hands automatically drew around my body, clutching my coat. I was suddenly afraid he’d actually strip me if I let him.
“Your self.” He chuckled. “Specifically, your time.” With a wave at my outfit, he shook his head. “What use would I have for this strange wardrobe?”
Relief was brief. “Wait, I was being sarcastic. I don’t actually have time to spare. I literally just told you my family was taken—it’s urgent that I find them now.”
“I believe the deal was that I’d help you get them out of here in return for your time.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not stupid. You could turn that into any amount of time—weeks or years or more.”
Soren laughed unexpectedly. It had a pleasant ring to it that annoyed me. “You noticed that? It’s been a long time since someone surprised me,” he said, shaking his head slightly.
Pausing to study him, I debated saying what I really thought. I shouldn’t. It usually ended badly. But he stayed silent, leaving me an opening, and I blurted out, “I’m pretty sure you just haven’t admitted it in a long time.”
A tiny corner of his lip twitched.
It looked like a real smile trying to escape this time instead of his mask. “You can think whatever you like.”
Well, if that wasn’t an argument, it was essentially an agreement, right? It reminded me of that list of “facts” I’d written down about the fae, one in particular.
“I wonder if you can lie,” I murmured without thinking, then pressed my lips together. I hadn’t meant to say that out loud.
The corners of his eyes tightened slightly. “Is that one of your human myths?” A deliberately unhelpful response.
“Maybe.” I shrugged, trying to be coy like him, relaxing into the couch a bit, but my acting was as terrible as ever. I felt like a puppet being moved by strings. “It doesn’t really matter though. I wouldn’t believe you either way.” Apparently, I said everything that came to mind now.
“Why’s that?”
I frowned. “It’s logic. There’s no way to prove that you’re telling the truth.”
He dipped his chin in acknowledgment.
“Though,” I added, “if you were smart, you would’ve said no.”
A chuckle escaped him.
What’s wrong with me? Is this another fae spell causing more word vomit, or am I coming unhinged? I wished I could blame the first one, but I didn’t feel anything abnormal beyond my sore wrist and bruised ribs.
I stood, heading toward the nearest bookshelf, needing to move before my nervous energy made me say something else I shouldn’t.
When I snuck a backward glance, though, his polite smile had shifted into something more genuine.
“I do believe you’re calling me unintelligent,” he replied in a strained voice, like he was holding back a laugh.
Leaning down to read the titles on the shelves, I shrugged again, though he could probably tell I wasn’t nearly as casual as I pretended to be. “Am I?” I tried to get a read on him, because he didn’t strike me as dumb at all, actually, but he also kept a tight lock on his reactions.
He squinted at me like a creature he’d never seen before, head slightly tilted, seeming at a loss for words.
I’d gotten that look before. Many times. I ignored it, or at least pretended to, studying the books.
The closest shelf held a mix of hardcover and paperback, with no clear genres.
In fact, many of the spines were completely blank.
That seemed like it’d make it difficult to find a specific read, but what did I know about fae books?
Or maybe they were journals or more logbooks.
Most of the tomes had a fragile quality, like they’d been around for decades.
Maybe longer. Though I tried to read the few visible titles, I couldn’t focus.
My mind spun dangerously fast. Imagining making a deal with a fae was one thing—actually agreeing to a bargain that might turn me into their prisoner was another.
I cleared my throat. “What do you want my time for?”
“I’ll let you know beforehand,” he replied.
“Hmm.” I got the sense he never offered a deal without knowing exactly what he wanted out of it. I could counteroffer, except I didn’t have a clue what that’d look like.
“What does that mean?”
I wrapped my arms around myself.
“Say it,” he prompted.
Chewing my lip, I spit it out. “I know a bad bargain when I hear it.” Before he could get upset, I added, “It doesn’t matter. I don’t need your help. I can find them on my own.”
“Suit yourself,” he said, turning back to the papers on his desk, which wasn’t an encouraging response. He obviously didn’t think I’d succeed.
I glanced past the shelves at the brown door we’d entered through, then back at him. That was it? He’d let me leave?
My eyes caught on the book he’d had open when I first stepped inside. The entrance log, he’d called it. What if he’d written down exactly where they’d gone? The answers I needed could be just a few feet away.
Turning slowly toward the door, I debated snatching it out from under him.
All I needed was a peek.
But he had actual muscles where I had none and probably six inches on me as well. He’d stop me before I even cracked it open.
Pursing my lips, I carefully avoided looking at the book as I tried to think of another bargain.
He rested two fingers on the closed cover. “You really can’t hide anything, can you?” His voice had a strange tone, almost like wonder.
Scowling, I turned back to face him. So much for subtlety. I took a chance and dove toward his desk, reaching for the book.
He picked it up and held it out of reach. “This won’t help you.”
“Then why won’t you let me look at it?”
He blinked, taken aback. “Why would I let you do anything without a deal?”
I growled, gripping my head and running my hands through my hair. As I did, a twig fell out. How long had that been there? I turned away toward the door, then, with a sigh, twisted back to face him. “Let’s pretend I’m actually considering giving you some of my time. How much are we talking about?”
“How about until the end of winter solstice?”
“I don't know what that is.”
“It’s a fae holiday that lasts roughly ten days—sometimes a bit longer, other times shorter.” He held up a finger as I opened my mouth to stop my next question. “It began just over a week ago.”
I considered it. That was the first sign I was losing my sanity. “You want three full days of my time,” I said flatly. “To do what, exactly?”
“Possibly less.” He held up a finger to argue the point, as if that made it better. “And I’ll tell you when I’m ready.”
That didn’t make any sense. “How about you tell me for free where you took my family, and then I’ll consider it.”
“That’s easy. I didn’t take them anywhere.” That annoying tilt of his lips returned, like he found me funny. This was the least funny situation ever. “But as I said, I may be able to help.”
“Okay.” I swallowed hard. “Let’s make a deal.”