Chapter 6: Prince of Never: Chapter 5

Lara

Our unappetizing lunch is nearly finished, and just as I shove a final hunk of old cheese and stale bread in my mouth, Ever does something scandalous.

He smiles.

Yes, the barbaric, supernatural, pain-in-the-butt grins at his sandwich and two glorious dimples pop out to frame succulent coral lips and shock me into coughing a lump of half-chomped food into my palm.

Ugh. What could possibly have made him do that?

While I splutter and choke, he scowls, indicating he thinks I’m being gross on purpose.

Grimacing, I throw the food over my shoulder. “What were you thinking of that made you smile like that? The first time you drowned a puppy?”

“I did not smile.”

“You did so. Why?”

Sprawled opposite me on the grassy riverbank, he pushes golden hair off his face and stares at me with those metallic almond-shaped eyes. It’s like being gazed at by a sleepy lion who’s woken up to find me plonked in front of him and is now wondering how good I might taste.

“As I said, I did not smile. Smiling is the enterprise of sycophants and lunatics.”

And distracted fae huntsmen, apparently.

I open my mouth to continue the argument, but he cuts in before I can speak.

“If you wish to bathe in the river, human, you may do so. The water here is shallow and the current slow. It’s unlikely you’ll drown. But, of course, I can’t guarantee you won’t.”

“Do I really smell that bad?”

He shrugs a shoulder, shifting his gaze to the trees on the opposite bank. So that’s a yes, then.

“What about you? Are you going to bathe?”

“No. I’ll remain here and keep a lookout.”

“Why is it fine for you to be covered in filth but not me?”

“Fae bathe for pleasure. As I’ve already told you, we don’t sweat. Our scent is made of the elements—the smoky flame, cool water, deep earth, a fresh breeze. We are nothing like humans.”

You can say that again, buddy.

“What will you be watching for?”

“Kelpies.”

“And they are?”

“Savage water horses. Their only desire is to drag you to a watery grave.”

If they show up, I’m sure Ever will be standing on the banks cheering them on. Unless, of course, he wants to save the pleasure of finishing me off for himself.

“Do you have any idea how ridiculous you sound when you call me mortal and human?”

“Certainly not as foolish as you sound when you call me Never.”

Rolling my eyes, I wrap the leftover cheese in cloth and shove it toward the leather pouch he produces food from whenever I’m about to pass out from hunger. It’s beyond me how he always knows the right moment to throw a scrap my way.

My whole body feels gritty and grimy, so even though I might turn into an icicle in the river or get eaten by kelpies, it’ll be worth the risk to be clean again. “Okay. Since this bath of mine is so important to you, where do you suggest I take it?”

Silver eyes narrow. “As a hunter, I’ve smelled worse things than you. But if you prefer to exude the scent of a troll, be my guest, stay dirty. I shall be rid of you soon enough anyway.”

I get to my feet and take two steps toward the riverbank.

“Not there!” Ever yells as Balor barks and Jinn whinnies. “Look how fast the water rushes over that row of rocks. The spot you’ve chosen to bathe in is perfect if you’re hoping to be swept away. Don’t you know anything?” He points downstream at a clump of low shrubs edging the water. “Go near the copse of young rowan. The water there is calm enough for your purposes.”

I march back to where he sits cocking a superior eyebrow at me like he’s lord and master of all that exists.

“Listen. I’m a city girl, which is why I don’t know anything about rivers and trees and how to survive with nothing but a knapsack and a Swiss Army knife. But that doesn’t make me stupid, okay? And speaking of stupidity, would it be beyond you to turn the wind down a bit or let some sun shine through the clouds for a few minutes?”

Brows scrunched together, he stares up at me, bristling with anger. I don’t think he’s used to people sassing him.

“Oh, forget it. I’d have better luck getting a piranha to file its own teeth blunt than I would convincing you to do something nice for a change.”

Lightning fast, his hand lashes toward my throat. I leap out of reach and make a run for the river, stumbling in a bizarre dance over rocks and stones to the merciless tune of his laughter.

“If I’d been serious about striking you, you’d be dead already,” he shouts.

This is good news. It means even though he’d like to hurt me, something stays his hand. The rules of his court? Or is his bark worse than his bite?

Through a thicket of prickly brambles, I step carefully down the bank, and then walk along the river’s edge until I reach a spot from where the huntsman isn’t visible.

Shivering, I shed my filthy clothes and drape them over a nearby bush, the branches bowing with the weight. Bright red berries glow between the leaves and make me drool. I long to pop one in my mouth. But I’d better not. The last thing I need while traveling with that heartless fae savage is a nasty dose of food poisoning.

Not even a patch of blue sky peeks through the gray clouds, and the air is freeze-your-eyelashes-off cold. Stripped down to my bare skin, arms crossed over my chest, and teeth chattering, I step into the icy water—one foot, now two. Shock steals the breath from my lungs, reminding me of Ever’s cruelty.

I won’t cry.

As I blink back tears, memories flash, bringing on a severe case of homesickness—Aunt Clare packing the dishwasher while dancing to classic rock tunes, as she did most Friday nights after a few-too-many glasses of wine. Isla and I whirling around the kitchen. All of us laughing. Never crying. Never crying.

I scrub a palm over my eyes, biting my quivering lip.

It’s unbearably painful to think about my family. Instead of days, it feels like I’ve been away from them for months.

Refusing to give in to terror, I blink back tears. Fear means weakness, which leads to death. Fury trumps fear and because survival is the game I’m playing, I need to stay angry to win. Or at least stay alive until I can work out how to get home again.

Forcing my legs to move, I keep wading until the water laps my bellybutton. Then I take a shaky breath and survey the surrounding woods. This land is strange, the intense quiet bleak and unnatural—again reminding me of my kidnapper.

Where are all the insects and birds? Probably in their nests and burrows, hiding from Ever.

A volley of barking cuts through the silence, the sound moving closer until Balor appears on the bank. The moment he spies me, he gives an extra-loud yip and dives into the river, legs splayed and tongue flapping.

Given my current predicament, my ability to find humor in anything should be long gone, but I can’t help giggling at him frolicking knee-deep and splashing water everywhere. He looks so happy. And unlike his master, Balor seems to have decided I’m okay.

“You must really love swimming if you’re braving a dip when it’s this cold,” I tell him.

Looking more joyful puppy than fae-beast, he gambols over for a pat. While I scratch behind his ears, he wags his tail and groans like the Loch Ness monster. Then something downstream grabs his attention, and he splashes over to check it out.

Right, time to get clean. Bracing myself, I plunge neck-deep into the sweet-smelling water. Then I duck my head under.

“Ack!” I screech, shooting up into the frigid air to wring water from my long hair. “Shit, that’s cold.”

In a shallower section of the river, Balor is busy attacking the water, biting and growling as he leaps around. I slosh over to investigate and find him harassing a school of gold-speckled fish.

“Oh, Balor, stop that. You’re terrifying the poor little things.”

A wide doggy grin splits his face before he continues with his sport. Oh, well, I tried to distract him.

My skin vibrates with a sudden dark awareness. Someone or rather something is watching us. Ducking low in the water, I flick my gaze over the bank’s ash-colored branches but find nothing.

A bird chirps and takes flight in a ruffle of yellow and purple feathers. What a relief. The spy was only a little parrot. And truth be told, I’m relieved to see some evidence of life in the trees. It’s beyond weird how all the creatures seem to be hibernating, waiting for something to happen. Or for a certain grumpy huntsman to leave the area.

Splashing water over my chest, I hum an old Native American tune to distract myself from the cold. It’s a song about how a river is like a mother, carrying her child down to the sea. Singing it lulls me into a trance. It’s medicine for my soul, instantly calming and reassuring.

As my voice amplifies in the wild space, the graceful willow branches seem to sway along. A ray of sunshine bursts through a break in the clouds, warming my skin and raising my spirits.

I may be acting like I’m okay with this whole being-taken-hostage-in-fairyland deal, but beneath a thin veneer, I’m barely holding onto my sanity, missing my family and friends, my singing teacher—heck even my job—desperately.

Old tales and songs say time moves differently in Faery, and I wonder how long I’ve been gone from the human realm and if everyone back home thinks I’ve been murdered and chopped into pieces. And who knows, that may well end up being my fate. But before Ever hacks me up, I hope he takes me back to Talamh Cúig and gives me a three-course meal first.

“Come on, Balor. It’s time to head back before your tyrant of a master comes looking for us.”

I step carefully over slippery rocks, heading for the shrubs where my clothes lie waiting in a damp, filthy bundle. The thought of putting them back on grates, but they’re probably the only things standing between me and a slow death from hypothermia.

Copying Balor, I shake water from my body, and then wriggle as quickly as I can into my underwear. I bend to grab my uniform and freeze halfway up when my gaze meets a set of sparkling eyes floating among dark-green leaves.

Ever!

He reclines lazily on a low branch. One elbow rests on a bent knee, and he chews a dandelion stem hanging from his sulky lips like he hasn’t a care in the world. Maybe he hasn’t.

Remaining silent, he continues to stare.

Outrage heats my skin and burns away the goosebumps as I throw on my dress. Pulling the stiff material over my body with rough tugs, I say, “Were you watching me bathe, you snake? What the hell is wrong with you?”

He laughs. “I was merely curious. Do humans have a fear of appearing unclothed in front of others? If so, I did not know it.”

I refuse to comment and continue dressing.

“Why are you angry?”

“Oh, piss off!”

He laughs again. “Piss off? How am I supposed to do that? It would be extremely odd to piss while I walk. Why would I—”

“Would it be odder than hiding in a tree and acting like a peeping Tom?”

“Who is this Tom person you speak of? I’ve never heard of him.”

“You’re impossible to argue with!”

Sitting up tall, his legs hang over the branch, boots kicking casually through the long grass. “And you are wrong because I wasn’t hiding. I am here in plain sight. It’s not my fault if your eyes are defective.”

“Oh, you’re a beast of a man.”

“Strictly speaking, I am not precisely a man.”

“Right. You’re definitely more beast than man. That’s what I meant.”

He smiles as though pleased with my description while I struggle into my jeans, then throw my coat on.

When that’s done, I shove my boots on, and push my way through brambles, ignoring the scratches to my face as I head for the clearing where Jinn waits. After a few steps, I realize the huntsman, hovering there on the tree limb, is blocking the pathway. Damn.

When I attempt to squeeze past, he leans close and sniffs my neck. “A significant improvement. You smell quite pleasant.”

I stare dumbly at his crooked grin.

“What were you humming while you bathed? It was… unusual and made my limbs heavy. I wanted to move badly, but I found I couldn’t.”

I don’t know what to make of that, so I say the first thing that pops into my head. “Poor you. Now you know what it feels like to be powerless.”

Lifting the dandelion to his lips, he says, “I’m never without power.” Then with a quick puff, he blows the seeds in my face. “Take a faery key, Wasp. Make a wish.”

I grunt and shove his chest, pushing him off his twisted-tree throne. He lands on the ground with an inelegant thud. Serves him right. “There you are. I’ve helped you move. No need to thank me.” Then I trample away as quickly as possible.

Within seconds, his boots thud behind me. Wincing, I square my shoulders and prepare to be punished for my insolence. No pain comes.

One second, two, and he’s beside me, bouncing along like Balor on the scent of a wild turkey. “No one’s ever pushed me off anything before,” he says in an awed voice.

“Well, I’m sure it won’t be the last time it happens. Did you enjoy it?”

He chuckles. “In truth it was not bad. In fact, it was… an experience. One that’s made me feel strange.”

And talk strangely, too.

I screw my eyebrows at him. “I think you might have concussion. Shouldn’t you be sucking all the air out of my lungs right now?”

“Would you like me to? If you wish, I can try a different method.”

“Wha—?”

Gripping my shoulder, he spins me like a top, shoving me against a tree trunk that’s rough and gnarled and probably as old as the Earth itself. Then I can’t breathe, and not because he’s doing his wacko air magic on me. It’s because his whole body is aligned against mine, leather and sword hilt digging into my flesh, and his lips are a mere inch away.

“What are you doing?” I ask, my voice shrill and high enough to shatter glasses if any were around.

“I don’t know yet,” he breathes. “What is a swizarmee knife?”

A what? Oh, he means a Swiss Army… I open my mouth to answer, and his blond head lowers. Soft lips gently brush mine and reality shifts and spins, dropping me into total blackness.

I struggle toward the light, wading up and up and up. Heart pounding, I whip my face left, and manage to stutter, “Are you…were you kissing me?”

Silver eyes widen. “No. No. I was going to try and… that is to say, I was going to, ah…”

As his words disappear like wisps of clouds, I realize he’s just as shocked as I am by the bizarre lip collision. That’s fine. I can handle a dazed and confused fae far more easily than I can deal with an overbearing pain-in-the-neck version.

I force a smirk. “You, an Elemental fae huntsman, are attracted to me, a human who you’ve just spent at least twenty-four hours calling a troll, a goblin, and a spotted wasp. What does that say about you, Never? Personally, I think it strongly hints that you’re a hypocrite. And, also, why have your eyes turned blue?”

Those pretty irises of his darken to slate gray as thunder blasts the sky, shaking the ground beneath my feet. Yikes. I’ve done it now.

Chest pumping, he pushes off the tree and paces in front of me. His cloak swirls. His hands clench tightly against his thighs.

“You are wrong. I have never taken anyone like you to my bed and I…” He goes still as stone, and then turns slowly to face me. “My eyes turned blue?” he asks, like I’ve informed him he’s the spitting image of the abominable snowman.

“They went aquamarine and glowy.” And they looked cool, too, but I won’t mention that bit.

He stands frozen, one fair eyebrow hiked and arms crossed in a position of disbelief.

“And you might not think I’m worthy to take to your bed but, for a moment there, it seemed like you thought the forest floor might be an appropriate alternative. An okay alternative for you that it is, I wouldn’t have been alright with it. Not at all.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m a fae prr…huntsman. I’m not interested in bedding humans—whether it be in my chambers or on the forest floor.” He shakes his head, a riot of silver and gold locks tumbling around his face and shoulders. “I was experimenting with some new trick, that is all… but I seem to have forgotten what it was…” He looks to the stormy sky. “No matter. I tire of this conversation, and I need not explain myself to you, Wasp. Move now. It’s time to leave. A strange magic brews in the shadows of this place. One I have never before encountered.”

We return to the clearing where we had our picnic, and he speaks harshly to Jinn and Balor as he packs in a hurry, throwing stuff around carelessly.

I watch and wring my hands together, wondering if I should have kissed him back. Perhaps I could’ve delayed our travels a day or two, romping in a bower with him. Er, no. Yuck. The idea of that sends shivers rippling down my spine.

When he’s done packing, he chucks me on the horse like a rotting sack of potatoes he’d rather leave behind but dare not in case he runs out of food and has to devour me as a last resort.

Not for the first time, I wonder if fae eat humans. I wish I wouldn’t think of such awful things. I don’t plan to become a meal for the huntsman. In fact, I’ll do everything within my power to prevent it happening. Which isn’t saying much. Any control I hold over my circumstances right now is a figment of my imagination. Which is what I’d prefer Ever was—an illusion. A bad dream I might wake from at any moment. Right now would be nice.

We ride for hours through open grasslands, always heading north and not straying far from Fire River.

The huntsman is silent the whole journey, his body a wall of creaking leather that I strive not to lean against. I resent being in his arms and how tightly he holds me. I hate that I can’t easily get away.

I think of the fae warriors in Mom’s paintings, their cruel beauty, the dreams I used to have of being chased by one through a dark forest. How those dreams were always frightening until the faceless man caught me—then they turned into something else altogether. Something embarrassing. Something that makes my stomach heat and forces me to squirm farther away from Ever.

When dusk falls like a purple veil around us, I’m struggling to keep my eyes open, and Ever finally brings Jinn to a halt. “We will rest here for the night.”

Thank goodness.

He slides from the saddle, then pulls me down onto the wet grass.

I stand blinking in the dark. All I see are shadows merging into total blackness. Nothing else.

Within minutes, Ever has a fire burning, one of those sweet-smelling sleeping bowers built, and me huddled on a log shivering as I gnaw on a hunk of cheese. To get things done, he employs a mix of magic and woodsman’s survival skills. He’s fast, efficient, and brutal in the execution of his chores. I’d hate to see the damage he wreaks when he uses the long sword strapped to his hips against someone.

As he feeds Jinn, I feel him watching me. It’s unnerving and makes me fidget and squirm on my log. When Jinn’s sorted, Ever slings his massive bow and leather quiver full of arrows over his back. “Stay there. I’m hunting,” he says, and stalks off into the trees without so much as a backward glance.

He must be getting something to cook on the fire. My mouth waters at the thought as my mind conjures visions of baked potatoes and pumpkin soup served with crunchy bread heaped with salty butter.

Within minutes, the huntsman returns swinging a dead bunny by the legs. It’s not spaghetti carbonara, but I’m prepared to eat almost anything right now if it will take away the ache in my belly.

He doesn’t speak as he skins, skewers, and cooks dinner, and I’m too tired to annoy him with prattle. The comforting crackle of the fire is the only sound between us as the wood snaps and pops.

Balor and I eat like barbarians while the huntsman watches closely, picking at his food.

“Aren’t you hungry?” I can’t help asking as I lick juice from my fingers.

“A little. I don’t feel it the same as you two obviously do,” he says, implying he’s miles above us.

A log rolls and sparks dance up into the blackness. An owl hoots. Balor groans.

My bladder hurts. “I need the bathroom,” I say.

“You’ve already bathed and in case you haven’t noticed, it is nighttime.”

“I need to relieve myself. Do you even know what that is?” Of course he does.

He rolls his eyes. “Again? You have no stamina. Truly, humankind are weak.”

“And faeries are assholes.”

Instead of throttling me, he smiles. How bizarre.

Flicking his head toward the river, he says. “Go there. Don’t stray far.”

“Yes, sir.” I stumble up and stargaze on my way to the riverbank.

I’ve never seen a night sky quite like the one above—the way pinpricks of light whirl across it, forming strange constellations nothing like the ones we see from Earth. The moon, barely glowing, is just a sliver, and the trees creak and groan like ghoulish shadows lining my path.

Balor follows, sniffing and snuffling through the brush, and I’m glad of his company. All around us is beauty and magic, but it’s an incredibly spooky kind of wonderful.

I find a spot to squat and try to ignore the dog’s red eyes glowing at me like a monster’s in a horror story. “How about some privacy?” I suggest, and he growls low, making me regret my firm tone. “Sorry, Balor, I didn’t realize you were so sensitive.”

The bushes rustle and Balor’s growls turn into rolling barks. Something breezes past my ear, there’s a woomp sound, then a heavy thud on the ground behind me.

Hiking up my underwear, I lurch onto my feet as Ever steps into view, lowering his bow. My mouth hanging open, I look around to see what he’s shot, and then yelp.

“Oh, my God. What the hell is that?”

Not even a yard away, Balor is frantically sniffing a rather disgusting hairy lump. It’s about the size of a big wolf with long limbs, a grotesquely round stomach, and long fangs protruding from its gaping snouts. Yep, it has two heads. Both of them ugly as heck.

“It’s an othrius. You would not wish to be its dinner. It savors its victim’s screams as it devours their bodies slowly.”

My own dinner rises in my stomach.

“Thank you for shooting it,” I say, wrapping my arms around my chest. “Do you think there are any more of them around?”

“It’s unlikely. They are solitary creatures unless on the hunt for a mate, and I’m not sure you’re their type.” He inclines his head and smirks, his gaze flicking over my body. “Come. Let’s return to the fire. You will feel well when you’re warm again. Although, you may wish to dress first.”

Huh? I glance down. Oh, of course. Face flushing hot, I tug my jeans up fast, thankful my uniform at least covered the important bits. How embarrassing. I hurry to follow in his tracks.

As we near the campsite, firelight casts him into silhouette, a halo of light outlining his body. He looks strong and safe, an alluring mix of darkness and light. A magical being.

He points at the bed of bracken and branches. “Go. Sleep now.”

Too shaken to argue, I flop in the bower, watching from beneath drooping eyelids as he builds the fire up. He tells Balor to lie opposite me, then his deep voice ranges closer. As his boots appear in front of my nose, his cloak swirls and then drops over my body, making my heart pound.

Why would he care about keeping me warm?

I don’t have time to ponder the question before my heavy lids drop, and I tumble into dreams about Max’s diner and my cousin, Isla, berating me for not showing up to shifts all night long.

When I wake the next morning, I’m surprised to find Ever still lying asleep on the other side of a pile of smoldering ashes. I lean onto my elbow, my pulse quickening, excited to have an opportunity to inspect him.

Unconscious, he looks young and sweet. His sulky top lip pouts attractively, lending him a kissable innocence. As I watch his chest’s rhythmic rise and fall, something draws deep in my gut, and I yearn to reach out and touch his cheekbone, test the texture of his skin.

This magnetic pull shakes me to the core. He’s far more dangerous like this—asleep and vulnerable. I can’t explain it properly, but it’s as if cruelty isn’t his true nature, more like a separate entity that only possesses him when he’s conscious.

The way his fists curl under his cheek makes me feel sorry for him. I feel pity. Even compassion. Is this the beginning, the first symptom of Stockholm Syndrome?

Foolishly, I want to believe Ever is good, that he’ll help me and not let his court sentence me to a horrible death, possibly executed by his own hand. But that’s a child’s romantic folly, wanting to believe what’s beautiful on the outside is the same on the inside.

Aunt Clare’s words come back to taunt me: Handsome is as handsome does, Lara. Don’t believe pretty lies from pretty mouths. Instead, let their actions speak to your heart. The truth shines in deeds, always has and always will.

I remember how happy she was when Isla hooked up with her boyfriend, Sam, who’s average-looking and about as much of a bad-boy as Father Christmas.

I sit up properly and look around the campsite. Three things strike me. One: it’s very early. Two: Balor has disappeared. And three: the sun is shining. That third fact astounds me, because other than yesterday’s brief break in the clouds while I bathed, the whole time I’ve traveled with the huntsman, it’s been gray and gloomy. But right now, while he still sleeps, the morning sky is cloudless.

Warmth filling me with hope, I push my coat sleeves up to my elbows and look around our sunlit surroundings. To the north, a large hill rises from the middle of the flatlands. That must be Mount Cúig. Ever told me about it yesterday. In its center lies the Lake of Spirits from which four rivers spring, each one named after the elements—River Aer, River Terra, Serpent River, and lastly Fire River, the one we’ve been following.

I take another glance at the sleeping fae, just so I can remember what he looks like bathed in sunshine. Golden. Glowing. And, sadly, even more handsome.

Balor bursts through the trees and barks loudly. Ever lurches into a sitting position, rubbing sleep from his eyes. He glares at the sun, scowling hard until clouds appear and shoot across the sky, blocking out the burning ball of light. My symbol of hope gone with a single crease of his brow.

I feel his attention shift my way, and I study my boots as though I’ve never seen them before.

“You we’re looking at me the way you did the rabbit last night,” he says, each word sharp, an accusation. “Is it because I was asleep? That is your fault. Why did you not wake me?”

“You seemed so happy. I—”

“Happy?” he scoffs. “I doubt that very much.”

Aiming to get on his good side, I change the subject fast. “What are we doing this morning, fishing?”

“No. We will visit the lake first and eat later.”

That’s disappointing news for my stomach.

“It will take approximately two hours to ascend Mount Cúig,” he continues. “We’ll walk around the top and descend on the other side. We’ll fish in Terra River as we head north on the way to my home, which we shall reach before nightfall.”

What? Arrive tonight? Panic sets in, my thoughts bouncing around wildly. This is bad. I’ve run out of time to find a way to stall him and break free of my vow.

“Never, would you be able to find me if I ran away?”

His fists tighten on his thighs. “Of course. I am a hunter. I have air magic, and I shall never forget your scent. There is nowhere you could hide where I could not follow.”

Great. So that was a stupid and useless plan I hatched.

Looks like I’ll be checking out the Land of Five tonight, which is a frightening prospect. In Mom’s paintings, none of the fae looked particularly friendly. In fact, quite the opposite.

Maybe I should have volunteered to go with the Merit prince called Temnen. He seemed chattier than Ever. Friendlier. “Tell me why that Merit guy wanted to take me?”

“It is best you don’t know.”

I leap to my feet in a fit of anger. “Stop treating me like I’m an idiot.”

He stands gracefully and stalks forward, backing me into a log so he can loom over me. “Stop acting like one and I shall be able to treat you differently.” A muscle tics in his jaw, before he dismisses me with a sneer, then he walks to the saddlebags hanging from a low tree branch.

He whistles and Jinn stomps through the shrubs, whinnying in delight as his master throws him a carrot and me a hunk of old bread. Yum.

“Thank you,” I say in a voice that means the exact opposite.

“It is my pleasure to feed you as you deserve.”

Touché, jackass.

With Balor tagging along to help me fend off any two-headed creatures that might be lurking, I make for the bushes to take care of business.

When I return, the huntsman is already packed and impatient to leave. While I’m stroking Jinn’s nose, Ever picks me up without warning, throws me into the saddle, and mounts behind. “Yah!” he yells, and we take off at a gallop.

After we’ve traveled uphill for some time, me trying not to let my imagination run wild with gruesome images of what might happen when we arrive tonight, and Ever silent as usual, I ask, “What are the king and queen of your court like?”

“Shhhh,” he hisses as he pulls Jinn to a stop.

“Why can’t I speak?” The only reason I want to talk is because it annoys him so much.

“Be quiet and listen.”

I glance around the silver trees, thinning out now we’re higher up the mountain.

“I can’t hear anything.”

“That’s because you never stop talking. Balor, stay.” His left arm squeezes, hugging me to his chest before he drops the reins and dismounts. “Wait here.” He takes his bow and quiver and disappears, merging instantly with the green and gold leaves.

“Ever?” I call, but it’s too late, he’s gone.

What if he’s hunting one of those horrible wolf-things? Or, worse, what if one them is hunting me right now?

I can’t bear doing nothing while I wait to find out. I’d rather take my chances with the fae jerk; at least he has weapons. And air magic. Hopefully he’ll be easy to follow. If not, I’ll have to return here. And possibly get eaten.

I slide clumsily to the ground and press my face against warm horse flesh. “Don’t go anywhere, Jinn.”

In the woods, the tree trunks are solid and thick, but the branches are thin and flexible, so it’s easy to follow the path Ever has cut through them. Ten paces. Then another twenty, and I see him striking a warrior’s pose on top of a giant log, bow drawn, arrow nocked, his brown cloak blending into the scrub.

There’s a rustle in the bushes, and he looses an arrow, waits a moment with his head cocked, and then drops his arms to his side in a creak of leather.

I step forward and twigs crack. He turns, smile flashing across his face when he sees me. “I got it.”

“Got what?” I ask, but instead of answering, he bolts off through the forest.

Green blades whipping my face, I chase after him as fast as I can, following the sounds he makes crashing through vegetation and after a while a trail of bright red blood.

When I find him, he’s standing over a silver deer that’s fallen next to a hollowed-out log covered in moss. The green is so bright, it hurts my eyes.

I shuffle closer. The deer is young, and it hasn’t fallen from an injury—it’s been shot by Ever. A bloody wound below its armpit, it struggles to rise, but can’t. The poor thing.

I come up beside the huntsman, my gaze flitting in horror between the gory arrow he’s holding and the dying animal. “What have you done?”

His eyes cut briefly to mine. “I’ve shot a doe.”

“Yes, I know. But why did you do it?”

“Because I’m hunting.”

The deer’s eyes roll back, it makes a final, long, horrible groan, and dies.

The trees waver as my head spins with sorrow. “Are you going to eat it?”

“Of course not. I have no butchering tools, and Jinn cannot carry both you and the deer, butchered or no.”

Any gratitude I felt toward him for saving my life last night vanishes, torched in hot flames of anger. “Never, you’ve ended the deer’s life for what purpose? Hunting to eat makes sense, I understand that, but for sport… I don’t get that. I thought your kind respected animals.”

He keeps his silver gaze fixed on the deer. “Most fae hunt. Usually for food, but we like to practice and improve our skills, and some of us enjoying killing for the sake of it.”

“Oh, good on you.” I drop to the ground, press my palm against the doe’s neck, and softly stroke its still-warm fur. “What a waste.”

Ever moves around the log so he’s opposite the doe, watching each stroke of my hand with unnerving intensity. I wonder how he’ll punish me for daring to question his actions.

“Let’s go now,” he says.

“No.” I’m not leaving until I’ve paid my respects to the deer.

A song seems appropriate. Breathing deeply, I think fast. It has to be something fitting. Then I draw a long breath and sing a slow Irish tune about a girl who disappears forever the day before her wedding. It’s beautiful and bewitching. I don’t know why I chose that one in particular, only that its atmosphere of haunting loss seems right.

As I continue to stroke the deer’s fur, tears run down my face. I can’t help feeling connected, seeing a glimpse of my future in its limp and ruined body—a hapless victim of the huntsman, just as I’m surely doomed to be.

When the song is over, I bend and press a kiss to the deer’s forehead, then lift my furious gaze to Ever’s. Chest pumping, his breath pants out in ragged bursts. His jaw working as if he wants to speak, but is under a spell and can’t get a word out.

“What is it?” I ask impatiently. I feel no sympathy for whatever it is he’s suffering.

“I don’t…” He rubs his chest. “This feeling…”

“What? Where’s the pain? In your arm or your chest?” Fae physiology must be similar enough to ours, so perhaps he’s having a heart attack. And if he is, I should be glad of it.

“I don’t know. My chest. My stomach. What is this feeling?”

“Shame probably.”

“But your voice…”

“What about it?”

“You did something to the forest, changed its pulse. I felt it.”

What dramatic mumbo-jumbo the fae spouts.

“I didn’t. That’s magic you’re talking about, which is normal for you, but I don’t know how to do anything of the kind. You’re not used to feeling empathy. You’re sorry for what you did, killing an innocent creature for no good reason. That’s all. The song moved you.”

Jaw tightening and steel flashing in his eyes, he says, “No. I felt no such thing. Fae notions of fairness and cruelty are not the same as yours. Let us leave here at once.”

Anger pulsating from his body in hot waves, he grips my arm and pulls me through the forest, my feet scrambling to keep up with his long strides. So much for Ever’s short-lived softer feelings of sympathy and regret.

Back on the trail, we find Balor asleep next to Jinn who’s happily munching grass. The dog stops snoring when he hears us and bounds over. Ever crouches and ruffles his fur, then stands and whispers something in Jinn’s ear that makes the horse neigh in delight. At least, as far as I can tell, he’s kind to his own animals.

Once again, he hefts me without ceremony onto Jinn’s back, reminding me of the way Joe, at the end of his shift at the diner, throws rubbish into the dumpster without so much as checking to see if it lands where he aimed it. And then once again, I have to suffer the proximity of Ever’s body, his heady scent of leather and earth, his chin bumping the top of my head as we travel higher.

At the top of Mount Cúig, the Lake of Spirits sparkles. Fir trees line its banks, enclosing us in their embrace, but above, a surprisingly blue sky ranges.

“Why is it suddenly sunny? Has your mood changed from its default setting of sour prick?”

Ignoring me, he dismounts, pulling me down after him. As he removes his cloak, then loosens his sword belt, his lips quirk like he’s holding back a smile.

That makes no sense—I’ve just insulted him again.

“I have no effect on the air above the lake. It’s immune to my moods, no matter how dark they grow.”

“I see. This is wonderful. It’s almost warm.”

“Sit. Eat. We won’t be here long.” He throws the food bag at me, and I happily settle on the ground and shovel bread and cheese into my mouth.

While I eat, Ever unwraps the bindings on his archer’s bracer and removes it. He unstraps the leather chest armor, throws it beside me, and tugs his thigh-length tunic overhead.

I swallow my mouthful with a loud gulp. “What are you doing?” My eyes rove over his bare chest, the faded markings of a tattoo on the left—a triangle with a horizontal line through it—the ridges of abdominal muscles.

“I must bathe here. The water replenishes my magic. Stay with the animals, and do not worry. Nothing can harm you in this sacred place. I won’t be long.” Next, the sword clanks down. When his strong, elegant fingers go to his belt buckle, I turn my back, and he laughs.

“What are you frightened of, Wasp?”

Further items of clothing, boots, and I hate to think what else, thud against the earth.

“Nothing. I don’t want to be put off my lunch, that’s all.”

“I’ve already told you I have no wish to take a human lover. Besides, I wouldn’t risk it. I’d break you.”

As his shadow departs, I stretch out on the velvety grass, and Balor snuggles into my side. I scratch his giant head, and we let the sun soothe our aching bodies. Massive birds drift in the air currents high above us, insects hum. This is a good place. A safe place.

I close my eyes when I hear Ever return, and Balor greets him with deep, happy barks.

Metal tinkles and clothes rustle. “Come and stand, human. From here you can see three of the four rivers of my kingdom.”

“Are you dressed yet?” I ask.

“Of course. I am quick and agile at everything I do.”

And so annoyingly confident.

Balor frolics and sniffs through the grass, and Jinn and I follow Ever to the highest point of the ridge where a rounded cliff drops away, falling steeply toward the east.

“That is Serpent River. It snakes down to the Emerald Sea.”

“Pretty. Are there waterfalls along the way?”

“Yes, and great beasts they are.”

I hope he doesn’t mean that literally. In Faery, anything is possible.

I glance into his mercurial eyes; after his dip in the lake, they shine with something I haven’t seen in his gaze before. Peace. He swivels and points. “And north there is the River Terra, which we will follow to Talamh Cúig.”

“And we’ll arrive before nightfall?”

“Yes. And we will pass through the Dún Mountains over there.”

“Surely, that’ll take at least another day.” Hopefully.

“The land moves faster beneath Jinn’s hooves than it appears to. Did you forget that he is fae as well? In my land, you must not trust your mortal eyes. You cannot see things as they truly are.”

A notion from old tales and poems sparks in my brain as he lifts me, this time gently, into the saddle and settles close behind. In his natural form, he probably looks like E.T. or a giant slug with razor-sharp fangs shooting from his three mouths.

“Do you wear a glamor to hide what you really look like?” I ask as we descend through dark shadows between the pines, the air growing colder and gloomier.

“Of course. Mainly for play, but around those who are not our kind, the glamor clings unconsciously to my skin, like a habit.”

“So, you’re wearing one now. Can you take it off?”

“If it might scare you to see me in my true form, then yes, it would give me pleasure. Turn, human, and look your fill.”

Jinn slows to a plod, and I prepare for a horrific sight. I have to grip Ever’s sword belt to twist around. I squeeze my eyes shut. This isn’t a good idea. I’m too close. I should have waited until I stood a safe distance from him to ask to see this.

My eyes open. “You look the same!”

He smiles viciously. Then his face wavers, blurs, and sharpens. I blink, once, twice.

Over the hunter’s plain garb, gold and silver armor flickers. A fae warrior—his whole body is bigger, his cheekbones sharper, eyes brighter and fiercer. Elongated ears point beside a twisted metal crown, his hair writhes like it’s alive. He’s the same, but different. The same, but better. The same, but worse. And far too close for comfort.

He laughs, cool breath gusting over my skin. “Don’t scream. You look as though you might.”

The regal fae warrior dissolves and I’m left with a sneering huntsman, still terrifying, still beautiful, and only slightly more human-looking than the non-glamored version of Ever.

“You didn’t look that different.” Kind of a lie. And kind of not.

“Which version do you prefer?” His voice rumbles at my left ear, sending a shiver along my skin.

“Neither.” Truth.

He grunts. “Some will always choose a softer fantasy over harsh reality. They wish their world to be bland. More palatable and easier to swallow down. I wonder which type of person you are.”

“Do you have your answer?”

“Yes. Like all humans, you are a liar.”

With a sharp laugh, he nudges Jinn’s sides, quickening our pace through the pine-scented woods.

After a two-hour trek down the hillside, we burst through the trees in an exhilarating canter onto open grasslands, the Dún Mountains a snow-capped blue line in the distance.

We stop at Terra River, muddier and broader than the south-flowing Fire River, to drink and eat a little before traveling onward. Ever speaks only if he can’t avoid it, his words clipped as though forced through gritted teeth, and for once I do the same.

I’m far too tired to bother annoying him with pointless chatter as we journey through a mottled-green landscape under the usual miserable, gray sky. It takes every last bit of my energy just to keep my eyes open.

Tonight, we’ll be at Ever’s court. And at the moment, I have no idea how to stall our journey past the two nights and two days of my vow or what point there’d be in doing so if he can easily find me anyway.

Still, I should try and stay awake. Try and remember the landmarks leading to his city, in case I ever get away.

The huntsman’s heartbeat thuds in a steady rhythm. Jinn breathes and snorts, the pound of his hooves a tribal song that makes me even sleepier.

Under my coat sleeves, I dig my nails into my palms. The pain helps.

Stay alert. Learn the landscape.

Yes, I can do that. I will do that.

I will.

The last things I think of before darkness drags me under, are the creepy words Ether spoke as she sent me flying through the portal to Faery. Those words blend and muddle as I slip into the realm of the unconscious: say hello to forever for us. Say hello to forever. Say hello to Ever.

Forever.

Ever.

Ever.

Ever.