Chapter 8
HE STOOD. THOSE shadow wings seemed to grow with him, giving him an impressive figure.
I chewed on the inside of my cheek and crossed my arms. “I need a drink of water before we talk terms,” I said, stalling.
“Deal,” he agreed with a twinkle in his eye.
As he turned to the tunnels, I followed, wincing at that word. Deal. If I’d already begun one by accident, I’d kick myself.
We stopped in what was unmistakably a kitchen, though nothing like back home.
For one thing, it had cute blue-and-white-patterned tile instead of yellowed linoleum, thick wooden counters instead of cheap countertops, and a huge stone sink that could hold five times as much as our shallow steel one.
Instead of cupboards, the walls displayed open shelves full of dishes and potted plants.
One long leafy ivy in particular dangled down above a pitcher of water like it was trying to get a drink. How did they all grow underground? Maybe it had something to do with the warm lights that glowed almost like windows along the edges of the ceiling.
Not your average electrical lighting system, I thought as I eyed the fae lights, unsure how they worked.
If not for the lack of windows and, of course, that painful fall earlier, I’d never have guessed we were underground.
Lore’s teapot rested on a stovetop with a full mug beside it, but she was nowhere to be seen. I didn’t even know her, but I wished she’d come back so Soren and I wouldn’t be alone.
He took a clean glass from the shelf and poured water from the pitcher.
After the day I’d had, my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth.
I drank the whole thing.
Lowering the glass, I paused. Both fiction and nonfiction books mentioned avoiding fae wine. Did that apply to water too?
I’d been too thirsty to ask.
Too late now.
“Refreshed?” he asked when I quietly handed the glass back.
I nodded. I had to admit I was.
Part of me expected to sprout wings or grow a tail, but I felt fine. Better even.
He left the glass on the counter, leading us into a connected dining room with a long wooden table. I took in the unlit fireplace, an archway that led to another tunnel, and ten chairs. How many rooms did his burrow have? Or maybe more importantly, how many fae?
Pulling out a chair for me, Soren brought me back to the present. His polite behavior set me more on edge. He was trying to soften me up so I wouldn’t see the twists in his deal.
Sitting, I wiggled my fingers nervously beneath the table, steeling myself for some magical dealmaking. I could do this. For Dad, Mom, and my sisters, I had to.
In fact, I should take charge to make sure this went in my favor. I felt confident for once, because I’d thought of nothing else for the last week.
“Here are my terms: If you take me to my family, I’ll give you my time after I get them out of here.” This was the one thing I’d determined back home. I could give the fae whatever they wanted, no matter how bad, as long as I’d saved my family first.
He leaned forward to rest his elbows on the table, invading my space slightly.
“Unfortunately, I don’t know exactly where your family is.
” He emphasized the word to point out I’d slipped again, though as far as I was concerned, it didn’t matter anymore.
It wasn’t like he’d forget anytime soon.
“Nor do I know how long it will take you to go about ‘getting them out,’ as you put it.”
He tapped a finger on his chin, drawing my attention to his mouth.
“I will counter your terms with this: I’ll tell you everything I know about your family since they arrived here.
In return, you’ll help me with something that takes place at seven o’clock tonight, less than two hours from now.
Once that’s completed, you’re free to go.
However”—he grew serious—“if you try to get out of our bargain before you hold up your end, you’ll turn into a toad. ”
My eyes widened despite my best efforts.
Nodding, he leaned back in his chair. “It’d be difficult to rescue your family in that form, I’d think.” Though his serious expression didn’t change, if he’d been anyone else, I would’ve sworn he was teasing. “How does that sound for incentive?”
I turned each word over carefully.
“Everything you know?” I repeated, trying to keep from gripping the arms of the chair. That was the trap. “Do you actually know anything?”
“I can promise you that I do.”
I snorted and sat back, crossing my arms. “Your word doesn’t mean a whole lot.”
“If I cannot tell you anything worthwhile, I forfeit my claim to your time.”
That grabbed my attention. I met his sharp blue eyes, studying him. “No toad turning for you?”
“That,” he replied with another unexpected grin, “would require skills you don’t have.”
“Hmm . . .” I folded my hands on the table with the sense that no matter what I said, I’d somehow already lost. “When you said you need my help at seven, I noticed you didn’t include an end time. That wouldn’t be one of those loopholes where I end up serving for life, would it?”
He had the audacity to laugh. “I like you,” he said with a chuckle. “It’s rare for a human to catch that.” Still grinning, he shook his head, adding like it was nothing, “Yes, technically, I could’ve kept you forever. Always determine the parameters when making a deal.”
Why is he giving me advice?
He didn’t give me a chance to ask. “In this case, we’ll say two hours of service, starting when the bells chime seven times. That should do the trick.”
Despite my catching the loophole and him only demanding two hours of time, my stomach sank as the implications hit me. “Is that what happened to my family?” I whispered, sagging back in my chair. “Did they make a forever deal?”
Soren’s face didn’t give anything away. “As you continue to call them family, I wonder. . .” He tapped a finger on the table. “Brynn. . . Donovan?”
My stomach hollowed out. “This was a bad idea.” I stood on instinct, not really thinking, unless panic counted, as I moved toward the door. “I should go.”
“Please, Brynn Donovan,” he murmured. “Have a seat.”
A strange desire to obey enveloped me like a second skin. It had a sickly sweet aroma that tugged me back toward my chair, but I shook my head to clear the fog and caught myself before I actually sat down.
“Looks like I guessed correctly,” Soren purred. Nothing like a house cat though—more like a lion. “Naming magic can be powerful when used on humans.”
His words triggered a memory of Mom’s voice whispering in my ear. Names have power, she’d said as we lay outside years ago on a picnic blanket, staring up at the blue sky and puffy clouds. Don’t give them out to just anyone.
Um, okay. I’d rolled my eyes, thinking she was in one of her dramatic moods, but now, hearing her words line up with Soren’s, it was yet another sign she’d known about the fae all along.
Soren cocked his head, studying me. “It’s odd. Humans usually respond more strongly to naming magic. It draws you in but doesn’t control you.”
I shrugged and dropped back into my chair with a sigh. “I guess I’m just really stubborn. Always have been.”
His cheek dimpled slightly with a held-back smile. Reaching toward the cabinet behind him, he opened a drawer, pulling out thick cream paper and a fancy-looking pen. “Shall we discuss the terms?”
Instead of agreeing, I sat back, studying him as my mind raced. Just say it, I coached myself. Dad, Rissa, and Olive are counting on you. Mom too, if you can find a way to tell him about her.
“I think you need me more than you’re letting on—or, if not me exactly, a willing human. If you want me to make this deal, you need to give me a reason to trust you.”
This time, he didn’t laugh. He considered my words quietly.
I’d started to think he was ignoring me when he finally said in a low tone, “I dislike the fae who took your family as much as you do. If possible, perhaps more. The details are not for you to know, but suffice it to say, our goals in this align.”
If I believed him, that changed everything.
Well, at least, as long as he needed me.
I chose my words with intense care, speaking slowly. “I will help you today only. For two continuous hours.”
He started writing as I spoke.
“Starting at seven o’clock, ending at nine o’clock on the dot.
And,” I added hurriedly before he could say anything else, ticking the things I’d thought of back home off one by one, “I won’t do anything that crosses a moral line.
Meaning I won’t hurt anyone. And I won’t do anything that gets me caught by other fae or stuck here longer.
” I could only hope that short list covered anything sinister he might ask me to do.
“In return, you will tell me everything you know about my family so I can get them home.”
“Agreed,” he said more quickly than I’d have liked, as he finished writing down everything I’d said.
I held out my hand.
He blinked at it. “What are you doing?”
My palm wavered in the air. “Aren’t we going to shake on it?”
“Shake on it?” he repeated blankly.
“Yeah.” I wiggled my fingers. “Give me your hand. I’ll show you.”
He lifted his left hand with a look that said, Is this real, or are you messing with me?
“No,” I said, pressing my lips together so I wouldn’t smile. “The other one.”
With a frown, he switched hands, holding his out like mine across the table.
I slipped my fingers into his firm grip and shook once.
My hand tingled.
His gaze flew from our hands to my eyes.
Yanking my hand back, I hid it under the table.
He drew back slower. “That’s . . . an intriguing way to seal a deal.” He flexed his hand slightly. “Well, then.” Clearing his throat, he sounded almost flustered. “That’s all well and good, but the fae use contracts.”
“Contra—” I cut off when he used the sharp end of his pen to make a small cut on his arm. “What’re you doing?”