Two
Calypso
The confusion that crossed his handsome face appeared sincere. But then, the fae were masters of deception. “There are more than one kind of fae,” he pointed out.
Tall, elegantly slender, yet with a breadth of shoulders that spoke of strength and solidity, he embodied masculine appeal. However, his movements, too smooth and quick, made it impossible to mistake him for a human. Besides, he was far too tall.
“I know.” The panicked thumping of my heart hadn’t slowed despite the fact he hadn’t made a move toward me. I struggled to breathe evenly. The sensation of vines felt wrapped around my throat. I knew they were gone. Still—
I sat up. Not letting my gaze stray from the fae, I put a hand to my throat. My fingertips brushed the friction-burned skin beneath my jaw, and I swallowed painfully. “But all fae treat us the same, like playthings meant to entertain you until we break.” Tears burned my eyes, but I resisted letting them free.
His features tightened ever so slightly. “Not all fae do such.” Standing there, elegant and lean in his fine linen shirt and leather jerkin, he gave the impression of regal wealth. His thick hair fell back from a smooth forehead in loose waves that artfully curled about his ears. I couldn’t tell if it was brown or dark blond in the light of the strange magic flame above his head. The sharply handsome angles, unusually large eyes, and overall icy coolness about his expression gave him a cruel, unworldly air. Then, if nothing else betrayed him, the male radiated magic so strongly it reminded me of the charge in the air before a rainstorm.
I almost laughed to dispel my nervousness. “Do such? Who speaks like that?”
He tilted his head infinitesimally. “I did.”
“I heard. But isn’t it an odd phrase?”
“Not where I come from.” His dark eyes, their color indistinguishable in the shadow of his brows, narrowed. “Are you hurt? You keep touching your neck.”
“No.” I immediately dropped my hand to my waist and pressed it against my middle. “Raw skin, perhaps. Nothing serious.”
A twitch in his mouth seemed to indicate he didn’t believe me, but instead of speaking, he turned his attention to scanning our surroundings. “How long were you here before I arrived?”
“Minutes, hours. It is hard to guess. I spent most of it wrapped up in that vine.” I risked a glance at my feet. No shoes—I must’ve lost them in the scuffle with the nasty plant. I glanced back toward the mess of leaves and stalks where I had been freed.
“Come. We need to explore this place.” He approached with liquid speed. The light, a flame hanging above his head, came with him, making the shadows on all the surfaces around us jump and contort.
I scrambled away from him, getting to my feet as I did. “Why?”
He paused and looked down his straight nose at me imperiously. I wasn’t particularly tall as humans went, and he was taller than most humans. “Do you have an alternative proposal? Perhaps you would prefer to sit here in the darkness and wait for your demise?” He peered over my shoulder. “I prefer to know the limits of my prison before the next challenge appears.”
“What challenge?”
“There are always multiple challenges. I see no wall in this direction.” He strode toward the maw of blackness behind me, taking the flame of light with him.
For the barest of moments, I considered my options. Stay where I was in the darkness, alone. Or go with him, an unknown fae stranger of dubious character. I chose the latter.
Running to catch up with him, I just managed to keep within his circle of light. “What do you mean by challenges? Have you been down here before?”
“Down here?” He paused for a moment, as though the idea of being underground hadn’t occurred to him.
“Didn’t the ground swallow you whole?” I asked. “Or is there a passage down to this place?” If there was a way out, then I could escape and return to my village, my family, and my home. I glanced upward. Nothing but inky blackness pressed down on us. The ceiling might be miles up or just beyond the reach of the light.
“Neither.” He resumed walking. I followed, barely avoiding stubbing my toes on the heels of his leather boots when he adjusted his pace to match mine. Maneuvering so we walked side by side, we traveled in silence for a time.
The walls of our prison narrowed, both sides coming in to brush the edges of his circle of light. Moss-covered stone—damp and smelling of loam—passed in uniform rows as we walked. The path ahead remained dark. Ahead I caught a glimpse of similar blackness. With no break in uniformity, there was no way to know for sure if we were coming or going. I edged closer to the fae, unease settling over me.
“There is light up ahead,” he commented.
I peered ahead. “Where?”
“There.” He pointed off to the left, far ahead. “A slight glow, as though the reflection of a lamp.” The flame above his head bobbed slightly with his movement.
“Might it be your light?” I asked. “It moved with you just now.” He halted so abruptly that I stumbled past him. “What are you doing?”
“Testing it. Watch the light down there.” He indicated the glimmer ahead.
I did.
Then he squatted down and his flame followed him. A moment later, the glimmer dropped.
He stood again. This time, the timing was more instantaneous.
“That was odd,” I commented.
Instead of answering, the fae started attempting a spell. Magic flared fitfully around him, sending out electric tingles that made the hair on my arms stand on end. I stepped back to give him room to work.
“No. Stay right where you are,” he ordered. Then, from a pocket of nothing, he pulled forth a sword. The blade glowed and hummed as he whipped it around. Stepping in front of me, he took up a defensive position, facing the strange glimmer. “Reveal yourself, mimick!”
Compulsion magic flowed from him. I stepped back anxiously before I realized it wasn’t directed at me. To my astonishment, he stepped backward with me.
“Stay close behind me,” he ordered in a low voice without turning his narrowed gaze from studying the darkness. “Mimicks are dangerous creatures. Don’t underestimate them just because they’re small. They prey on the uninitiated’s softer sensibilities.”
“What do they look like?” I asked, scanning the tunnel ahead. The glow had disappeared. A squeak came from the darkness. A small gray mouse skittered out into the open space. It stopped just short of the brightest ring of our circle of light, settled back on its haunches, and began furiously cleaning its whiskers.
My companion glared down at it. “I know what you are. Face your fate with dignity. You have not caused us harm yet, and there is still an opportunity for me to extend mercy.”
The mouse lifted its nose and sniffed the air.
“Are you sure it is a mimick?” I asked. I wasn’t a fan of mice, but killing one out of hand…
The mouse suddenly dashed across the dirt floor toward our feet. My companion muttered something under his breath, jostling me backward in an effort to keep between me and the creature. I stumbled and fell, landing hard next to his booted foot.
In a flashy puff of magic, the rodent transformed into a viper and lunged at my exposed ankle, fangs out and ready to bite. I shrieked and tried to pulled my leg in toward my body, but before I moved my heel an inch, the fae severed the creature in two. His glowing sword stopped mere inches from my leg.
“Still think it is an innocent mouse?” he asked as he kicked the snake halves away from me.
“No.” I clambered to my feet, trying to compensate for my wobbly knees. “Whatever that was, it was not just a mouse.” I shivered. “Thank you for the intervention.”
He paused in the midst of wiping the creature’s blood off his sword to regard me contemplatively. “Not what you expected a fae to do?”
“Not the fae that put me in this…” I motioned to the corridor. “Whatever this is.”
“A labyrinth.” He grimaced. “The Unseelie king is getting unusually creative all of a sudden.”
“But why? Why you? Why me?” I frowned into the darkness. “And how can we get out?”
“I can answer some of those questions, but not all of them.” Fiddling with the spell he had used before, the fae somehow produced a sword belt, complete with a sheath. “Would you hold this while I strap on the belt?” he asked. Resting the tip of his sword on the dirt between my bare feet, he handed me the hilt.
I reached out to take it, only hesitating once he had let go. The leather grip between my hands hummed with magic, radiating warmth up my arms, as though I held a living thing, not a sword. “Are you sure you trust me with this?”
The sword was almost taller than I was. The hilt came level with my eyes.
He lifted his head while buckling the belt around his waist. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked mildly. “If you kill me, my light disappears with me. Unless you’ve changed your mind about being alone in the darkness?”
“No.” And I suspected the sarcastic fae knew it. “But if I tried?”
“Vorpalus won’t let you.”
“Who?”
He nodded toward the gigantic weapon I was holding. “My sword. It wouldn’t cooperate. A weapon that has allied itself to a fae tends to not work with anyone else. There are some rare exceptions.”
“Allied?” I eyed the weapon in my hands. “You speak as though the sword were sentient.”
“In a way, it is. It acts as though it were, but it also isn’t.”
“That was as clear as a stagnant pond.”
He shrugged. “I can only pass on what I know.” He reached for the sword, sheathing it. “Shall we continue on?”
“Which way?” I peered into the darkness.
My companion closed his eyes for a moment. Then, abruptly opening them, he turned to the left. “This way.”
∞∞∞
Azulin
“How did you know which way to turn?” she asked as she trotted to keep up with my longer strides.
Some of her chaotic curls had escaped from her braid to cluster around her head in a wild halo. The delicate curves of her face gave her delightfully open and expressive features. Unlike my daily interactions at the Seelie court, I hadn’t needed to guess what she thought of anything we discussed. I found her vulnerability equal parts fascinating and disturbing.
“Do you have an inner compass?” she asked.
“My birthright is anchored in my kingdom. The Unseelie king always plays out his curse shenanigans in his own realm. Thus, I orient myself.”
“So, you are a fae lord.” She gave me a side-eye. “Of the Seelie court?”
“After a fashion.” I had no intention of revealing everything. Her innocence was disarming, but I wouldn’t stake my life on it not being an elaborate ruse. Placing a mole in his elaborate trap would be just the sort of thing my tormentor would do. It was time to turn the tables a bit. “And what kind of mortal are you?”
She pressed her lips together and peered into the darkness. “Isn’t there only one? The kind that dies?”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Feeling defensive?”
“A mite—perhaps—maybe.”
“Why?” Scanning the darkness, I tested my access to my magic. Strangely, it hadn’t flared up since I entered the labyrinth. Every other time the curse was in full effect, my portal magic had continued spitting and rioting into fits of it, trying to transport me randomly.
“Probably because I was minding my own business on human lands when I was captured. Thankfully, my sister escaped the monster that abducted me. At least she and her kit are safe.”
“Won’t she worry about you?”
She shrugged. “At first, she might, but once the babe arrives, she’ll be too busy to worry about my fate. As far as the community is concerned, I served my purpose. I protected her and her young.” Sadness dimmed her expression, dulling the brilliance that had sparked in her eyes earlier.
“So, you are an undeveloped shifter,” I observed.
She stiffened her shoulders and straightened. “There is no shame in that. We are just as vital to the community as those who shift. We guard the young and protect the unborn.”
That fit with what I knew about the culture of the shapeshifters living in hiding along the border of the Wild Woods. My childhood tutors told me stories of the dual-formed people beginning to mingle with typical humans.
We approached an intersection. I spotted it long before she did. Extending my strangely cooperative magic-enhanced senses, I detected living organisms in both directions.
“Oh.” She stumbled to a halt next to me.
“Both directions seem equally dangerous,” I observed. “I sense multiple living entities, but I can’t determine whether they mean us ill or not.”
“I wager they will attempt to harm us based on those we have encountered so far.”
“Speak for yourself. I have enjoyed your company, and you don’t appear to be intent on killing me.”
She rolled her eyes and laughed, a soft joyful sound in the icy darkness. Then she shivered. The temperature was dropping and fast. The air had taken on a definite chill, and according to my mental tallying, the sun had set mere moments before.
The woman next to me began rubbing her upper arms. She shuffled from one naked foot to the other and eyed the openings ahead from within our halo of light. “How do we choose?” she asked.
“Are you cold?”
“Perhaps.”
“You enjoy using that word, don’t you?” I reached out and rested my fingertips against the back of her hand. A sharp zing of magic brought with it the sensation of chilled skin. “You are cold.”
I reached for the elven spell, fumbling my first attempt as usual.
“I have survived worse.” She watched my efforts with amused interest. “Why is that spell so hard for you?”
I muttered something unpleasant under my breath as the spell’s folds slipped from my fingers for the second time. “Because it is of elven creation, not fae.” Pausing, I attempted to calm myself. Rushing meant errors.
“There is a difference?”
“Indeed.” I opened my eyes and smoothly reached for the spell again. This time, my fingertips caught the edge of the folded space.
“Fae, sir?”
Ignoring her, I reached into the spell and thought of what I needed: the heavy woolen cloak I wore when riding.
“I think you need to see this.” She tugged on my sleeve.
“Just a moment.” A breath later, my fingertips brushed the soft velvet of the inner hood. Catching it, I dragged the cloak forth, letting the spell close behind it. Only then did I realize that something was rumbling behind us and growing closer.
“The walls are moving.” Horror tinged her voice as she stared back the way we had come. “We have to choose, or we will be crushed.”
“Do you trust me?” I asked.
She regarded me wide-eyed. “Yes?”
“Hold tight.”
Bundling her into the cloak, I tugged the oversized hood down over her face. I didn’t want her to see my magic at work. I swept her off her feet, darted left, and ran.
No turning appeared. The passage closed off behind us faster than I could run.
Tapping into the little reserve I still possessed, I added magic to speed my strides. The burst of speed hit suddenly, almost making me stumble. I caught my balance and threw the two of us through an opening in the wall to the right. Curling around my companion at the last moment, I cushioned her fall.