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.