Casually Cursed (23 page)

GHISLAINE PALED, HER
golden skin fading to ivory as she swayed on her horse. Several faeries darted forward, but she steadied herself.

I glanced at Bryn. He hadn’t reacted to my announcement. I’d never been so grateful for his unflappability under pressure.

“Maybe you’re telling the truth. But perhaps not. Humans lie. They’re notorious for it,” she said, dismounting. She flowed forward; it’s the only way to describe the way she moved. Her energy reached me a second before her body; it was warm and buzzed like a honeybee. Her feet didn’t touch the ground. She grabbed my throat in a supernaturally strong grip. “Where and when and how did she die? If you lie to me, you’ll regret it till your last breath.”

I knocked her hand away, and everyone gasped. “I don’t know who killed her. We were fighting wizards and werewolves in the middle of a rainstorm. She was badly wounded.”

“By iron? Was she shot with iron?”

“I guess so. I didn’t stop to inspect the ammunition.”

Ghislaine exhaled, and the stinging sensation from her essence melted away. Only warmth and light flowed from her in her relief. “She’s not dead. You surely mistook her condition. She’s very good at surviving. Exceptional at it.” Ghislaine said the last line with such conviction, no one would have dared to contradict her.

“She wasn’t breathing. She didn’t have a pulse,” I said. I wanted to go farther to protect my sister. I wanted to claim she’d had an iron bullet or arrow through her heart. Or that her throat had been too badly torn. Anything to convince them that she’d died for sure. If I’d known she wouldn’t come to the Never again, I’d have sworn she was dead. But Crux had been so convinced she would turn up. If she did, what would I say? That I’d buried her alive? My own sister?

“Her heart’s beating might have been too faint for you to feel. We’re not as fragile as humans. Even when there are no signs of life, a faery body can live on, healing wounds that would kill a human, or even a werewolf.”

“She’s half human. She can die from wounds that weren’t made by iron,” I said. I’d nearly died from a few wounds that weren’t. Of course, I’d also survived and healed things no normal person could have.

“Enough,” she said, waving her elegant hand. Her color had returned and heightened. Her flushed skin glowed, creating a halo of light like the sun. She turned and leaped so high it was as if she’d sprung from a trampoline. She landed on her horse without so much as a thump.

My jaw dropped. She could’ve made a million dollars playing ladies’ basketball or as a prima ballerina.

“Bring them,” she said.

“Hold your horses,” I exclaimed. “I’m not yours to bring anywhere. I’m not Seelie fae. I’m human.”

“You’re a half-breed, like her.”

“Not like her. I’m second-born.”

Her eyes flashed furiously, the gold flecks sparkling. The other fae looked at her in confusion. They didn’t know the old laws.

“You came into my territory and deceived us. You’re half-blooded Seelie fae. I may claim you for the Never as one of us. Or I may declare you a spy from humanside. Either way, you won’t roam free in these lands unless I give you leave to.” She looked at her subjects and issued her commands. “Shackle the Halfling. And her lover. Put them behind iron doors and under guard.”

They didn’t hesitate, and she didn’t look back. She turned her horse and galloped away.

I knew one thing for sure: Ghislaine wasn’t just angry that her best killer had disappeared. Kismet meant more than that. Did the queen care about her? In a messed-up faery way, had she even loved the Halfling child she’d been given as tribute?

I frowned thoughtfully. Even if the queen did feel bad at the prospect of Kismet being killed, Ghislaine hadn’t taken care of my sister when she was little; she hadn’t raised her in the castle. She’d put her in foster homes and treated her like a second-class citizen. She’d also had Kismet’s own boyfriend whip her for making a mistake on a mission.

My spine stiffened as my blood cooled. I didn’t care how Ghislaine felt about Kismet deep down. She’d mistreated Kis her whole life. If I could convince them Kismet was dead and keep her out of their hands forever, that’s exactly what I would do. And I wouldn’t regret it for a minute.

*   *   *

THE TREES THAT
lined the path back to the castle had begun to whisper, which I found comforting. In my experience, silence from trees never meant anything good. I wondered if the spells or magical pact the tree keeper had made with the trees was wearing off. If so, the exits out of the Never might open. Not that it would do us any good at the moment. But I didn’t plan to be a prisoner forever.

My wrists were locked together in metal cuffs in front of me, and I sat astride a horse with a fae warrior at my back, who occasionally put an arm around my waist.

“Cut it out,” I said, pushing his hand away.

Bryn’s cobalt eyes darkened to the color of stormy skies. His hands were bound, too, but behind his back. He was alone on a mount that was being led along the path. I had an intense longing to be on his horse, pressed against him. The black stallion, prompted by Bryn’s knee in his left flank, came alongside us. Without hesitation, I swung my left leg up and over, so both legs were on my horse’s right side. I popped down to the ground, and grabbed Bryn’s thigh to steady myself as I pushed his foot from the stirrup. I shoved my foot in and sprang up. I swung my leg over, sitting behind Bryn and gripping his hands with mine. The whole horse swap took only seconds, which I knew was my body being influenced by the Never and by my sister’s skills. I couldn’t have moved so smoothly or quickly in the human world. I’m sure if I’d tried, I’d have landed with my butt in the dirt. I hoped that outside the Never, Kismet was getting the benefit of my talents, knowing by instinct how to make friends and how to make pastries and pies. I hoped she was happy.

The knight whose horse I’d been on grabbed the reins of Bryn’s horse to keep us from galloping away I guessed.

Bryn leaned back into me, and I rested my chin on his shoulder.

“Hey, there. You okay?” I whispered.

He squeezed my hands. Several faeries circled their horses to stop ours. I tightened my grip on Bryn’s hands and leaned closer. It felt immensely better to be touching him. I knew it wasn’t just because I loved him. There was something powerful at work. The core of our synergy, I decided. Even though his wizard’s magic faded in the Never, it was buried in him and I still reacted to it; like a compass pointing north, I was unfailingly drawn to him. I wouldn’t be taken from his horse without a fight.

“She never said we couldn’t ride together,” I pointed out, watching the faeries intently, waiting for them to grab me. The honey-scented breeze ruffled strands of their glossy hair. Sunlight loved them, making their skin shimmer.

Bryn’s skin had a different tone. It was ivory stained with sepia, opalescent rather than shimmery. My arms had the cast of the fae of the land, who looked dusted with gold. The contrast between our skin was striking and somehow right, creating a balance, as our natures did in real life. I’d gotten used to talking with him, especially when there was supernatural trouble. I wanted to be close to him. I also wanted to be alone with him.

“Leave them,” one of the fae said.

I sat perfectly still and didn’t exhale until they urged their horses forward, and we got under way again.

Bryn turned his head in an attempt to look over his shoulder at me. I kissed the side of his face.

“What do you think? About what I told the queen?” I whispered.

“It’ll depend on what happens,” he said. Yeah, I knew it would depend on whether or not I got caught telling lies.

A gust of wind carried a richer scent—briny, mixed with sweet. Bryn inhaled. “I want to take you to the water.”

“I can’t make any sealskin to keep me warm,” I whispered back.

“I’ll keep you warm.”

I smiled and rested my forehead against his shoulder. “Probably you would.”

“The selkies don’t know what kind of magic is contained in the amber. I think they would’ve told me if they did. They welcomed me and spoke openly about a lot of things. They’re not guarded the way witches and wizards are.”

“You sure?” I asked. “Maybe they were pretending to be friendly.”

“I don’t think so.” His thumb rubbed my hand. “It’s a tight-knit tribe. Even though I’m many other things, they see me as one of them. I was asked to stay.”

I frowned.

After a moment, he added, “I was tempted.”

“Faery magic tastes good,” I murmured.

“Yeah, there’s nothing more beautiful than the ocean.”

“What about the night sky full of stars?” I asked. Bryn’s celestial magic was a much bigger part of him than his selkie blood.

He glanced at the sky. “I don’t know. Ask me again when night falls.”

This is how she’ll get him
, I thought furiously.
She’ll use the pull of the sea to make him want to stay in the Never.

There were a lot of stories of human beings and various other creatures wandering into the land of the fae and never returning. Maybe that’s why they called it the Never—because once inside, many never left.

I sniffed the salted-caramel air and narrowed my eyes.

You can’t have him
, I thought, speaking silently to the sea. Was it my imagination or did the sea answer with a sea-foam laugh?

I pressed my lips to the back of Bryn’s neck and licked his spine. His sharp intake of breath made me smile. I blew on the small wet spot I’d left with my mouth.

When he spoke, his voice was low and deep. “Do that again when we’re alone. But not until then.”

My smile widened. Somewhere in the distance, the sea churned in understanding. I was more than human. The sea might feel cool and silky when he was submerged in its magic waters, but I was pretty sure he found my magic silky smooth, too, when he drowned himself in it.

*   *   *

THE SIGHTS AND
smells of the Never continued to be more vivid than anything humanside, and I found myself growing used to them and wondering if I’d miss them if I left.

No, not if I leave! When I leave!

I smelled root beer and gingersnaps. From the corner of my eye I spotted a potbellied faery who looked like Royal, but by the time I turned my head for a better look, he was gone.

I expected the knights to put us in a prison cell or a musty dungeon, and worried that after so many sweet and earthy scents, anything strong and sour would be hard to take, but they led our horse to a stone building that looked like a small castle.

“Fancy for a prison,” I exclaimed, happy that the main thing I smelled was baking bread and fresh herbs, rosemary and dill.

After dismounting, we climbed circular stone steps to an upper floor, and our knightly escort pressed a crystal into a groove and turned it. The door opened, revealing a room swanky enough to be in a decorator’s magazine. The walls were painted with bright birds and flowering vines. The candleholders and lanterns were gold; the bedspreads and pillows were peach silk. Even the rug was tufted salmon-colored silk. Flowering plants hung from a dozen clear crystal plant holders. In the corner there was a raised tub big enough for three, and mossy plants grew up the steps to it. The windows looked out over the woods and streams.

“Wow,” I mumbled as my cuffs were removed. “This is jail?” I dragged my eyes from the room to look at Bryn. “Except for our being prisoners, this would’ve made a really nice honeymoon suite. Look at all the plants!”

Bryn gave me a wry smile. “Yes, if not for being incarcerated, it’d be perfect.”

I walked inside, rubbing my wrists. I turned to say something to Bryn, but realized too late that they were closing the door.

“Hey,” I yelled, lunging forward. I was too slow. They’d locked me in alone.

I heard Bryn arguing with them, but the faint voices quickly disappeared.

A moment later I heard them again, suddenly louder and not through the door. They came from over my shoulder. I realized they’d put him in the room next to mine. Near the ceiling there were open windows between the rooms, apparently allowing for ventilation.

I dropped onto the bed and waited. The argument ended with the slamming of a door.

“Bryn, can you hear me?” I said. He didn’t answer. I stood under the window and asked again, much more loudly.

“Yes, I hear you,” Bryn called back.

“Okay,” I said, falling silent again. It wasn’t like we could have a private conversation yelling back and forth. I’d wanted him in the cell with me so we could whisper to each other and make an escape plan.

I stared up at the windows and then looked around the room. If I could move the chest of drawers over and stack something on it, I might be able to reach the windows. Then I’d just have to crawl through and drop down. We’d still have to figure out how to escape, but at least we’d be together.

I tested the weight of the chest. It was fairly heavy, but I could drag it. I worked it across the floor. I wanted to hurry. I worried the queen would find some old law or write a new one that allowed her to declare us Seelie fae and under her jurisdiction. If she did that, she could keep us prisoners forever and send knights to hunt us whenever we escaped.

I thought about Kismet. If only I could find a way to warn her not to reenter the Never, I might eventually be able to convince them she was dead, so she’d be free. Would a headstone in a cemetery be enough to fool the queen? We could certainly fake something like that. I chewed my lip. The best way to trick Ghislaine would probably be to get someone she trusted to believe that Kis was dead. Someone who wasn’t allowed to lie to her. Could we trick Crux? Then he could report back to Ghislaine and she’d have to take his word for it.

I glanced at the window. This was the sort of thing I liked to discuss with Bryn, him being an excellent strategist.

I heard the door open and close next door.

“Hello?” I called. “Are you still there, Bryn?”

“I’m here. I’m all right,” he yelled back.

“Why did they open the door?” I asked.

“I have a visitor.”