“Do the sisters live with her?”
“No. They prefer to abide in their elements and reside in wilder places—the red-hot coals, the whispering trees, bubbling streams, and boggy marshes.”
He comes to a standstill, drops gracefully to the ground and stretches his long limbs in a relaxed pose. “Sit with me. The view here is most pleasing.”
I obey and perch cross-legged next to him. It’s disconcerting to be this close to the Prince of Fire. His eyes are hypnotic flame-colored orbs, dancing with mischief, framed by dark kohl and, bizarrely, no eyelashes.
I suck in a breath. “Your eyelashes—”
His brow furrows. “Oh, I’m always burning them off. It’s the flames I play with. I must look frightening to you.”
“No. I admit your eyes are a bit spooky, but they’re stunning. In a good way.”
His grin is infectious, even as his gaze skims my body in an overly curious manner.
“Don’t get any ideas, buddy. You’re a prince. You don’t want to be fraternizing with a prisoner. And instead of answering all my questions, shouldn’t you be marching me up to your queen right now, suspicious that I’m planning an escape? Especially since you’ve basically told me how to get out of here.”
“No. I’m rather interested to see what you’ll do next. And how my brother will respond.”
Ugh. Ever again.
Red poppies and bluebonnets dot the fields around us, spring flowers fired into blooming by earth magic.
“Why is the sun out? After the chill of the last few days, I’ve nearly forgotten what it feels like on the back of my head.”
“It shines because my brother has gone.”
Ever’s not here? “So, if the weather improves when he leaves, the whole city must look forward to his departures.”
His smile is grim. “Yes and no. Personally, I do not like it when he stays away long. Each time, he returns a colder version of himself. More distant.” A smirk pulling at his lips, his eyes run over me. “Except for perhaps his most recent hunting trip. This time, he’s returned quite enlivened.”
“Maybe my constant talking annoyed some life back into him. How old are you anyway? A thousand years or something crazy like that?”
“I am two years younger than Ever, so only twenty-two. Of course, fae years move a little slower and a little faster than your human years… but it equates to roughly that.”
“A little slower and a little faster? That makes no sense at all.”
Spark tugs my hair, her claws tangling in the long strands, and Raff detaches her and places her between his spread thighs.
Screeching, she smacks his face, then scrambles away on four legs, chasing an animal that looks like a miniature version of a rabbit, except it’s blue.
“That was unexpected,” I say. “What a little savage your pet is!”
“She takes offense easily.” Rubbing his cheek, Raff laughs as he watches her streak through the meadow, the tips of her ears bobbing up and down. “Time doesn’t need to make sense, Lara. It just is. You are in Faery now and should not expect your experiences to be wrapped neatly in logic.”
I don’t want to ask this next question, but it’s killing me not to know. “Is Ever hunting those dragon things again?”
“You mean the draygonets. No. This is quite a different mission. He’s returned to the eastern edges of the Lowlands, far from the banks of Fire River which you traveled along on your journey here.”
“Through Ithalah Forest again?”
“No, not as far as that.”
“And what’s he doing there?”
“Looking for a wife.”
“What?”
Raff throws me a rueful grin. “The wife-story is Ever’s. I shall let him tell it to you when he returns.”
“I doubt he will. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not his favorite person.” Don’t ask. Don’t ask. “When is… when is he back?”
“Tomorrow most likely. Bride or no.” Raff’s golden eyes sparkle with mischief, and I bite my lip hard to stop myself from asking what he’s thinking about.
The trees shimmer down the hillside like rolling waves of green silk, beckoning and enticing. I nod westward where they’re at their thickest and most compelling. “What’s down there?”
Mysterious things always snare my interest.
“That is the Emerald Forest, and beyond it spans the great Emerald Sea filled with terrible beings—water witches, merpeople, selkies, and a myriad of monsters of the deep. You must take extreme care if you ever wish to sail upon it.”
Fortunately, I don’t.
“And what’s in the forest? Any portals back to the human world?”
He laughs. “Perhaps. Anything is possible. The moss elves live in the Emerald Forest. Once, they dwelt in the valley, farming the rich soil with their weak earth magic. But now their cursed crops fail, and they must hide hungry in the caves. It is a sad existence.”
“Why do they have to hide?”
“They are smaller than you are and much weakened. The draygonets have hunted them to near extinction. Those who are left are mostly women and babes, sick or starving.”
“And are these moss elves dangerous?”
“Not at all.”
“Then why don’t you help them?”
“Hundreds of years ago, at the time of the first Black Blood prince, the Court of Five was in dire need of allies against the Merits, and the forest dwellers refused to swear fealty to us. Independence was precious to them above all else, and so now they have it. In abundance.”
“But that’s a terrible story. They’re dying out, and you guys are doing nothing to help them.”
“Not so. My brother kills the draygonets who feed off them. Sometimes my friends and I join the hunt, but Ever is the one who will not rest until the last flying bloodsucker has been exterminated.”
Is that because he enjoys the sport? Or, heaven forbid, does Ever actually care about the mothers and babies suffering in the caves?
“Raff, it sounds like no one feeds the moss elves.”
“Correct. No one does.”
That’s wrong. I can’t bear to think of them suffering.
In the distance, Spark suddenly pops out of the long grass, shaking her fists at us before barreling through the field and leaping onto Raff’s shoulders.
“Do the draygonets live in the forest, too?”
“No. Mostly they nest at Feather Isle past the eastern edges of the Lowlands.”
“What do the draygonets look like? Should I be afraid if I see one?”
“Are you planning on going hunting?”
“Not likely.”
“Good. In case you change your mind, allow me to describe them. They look like large fattened snakes with dragons’ heads. They have leathery wings, sharp fangs as long as my hand, and the wind whistles through their skulls because their brains take up so little space.”
“Would they attack me?”
“Perhaps. They are not much larger than Balor and—”
“They’re bigger than Balor? That’s large enough for me, thank you very much.”
“Yes, but do not fear. They seek less challenging prey than creatures who outweigh them. They only hunt periodically, and before Ever found you, he killed the final stragglers from their most recent raid. We shouldn’t see any draygonets over our lands for several days.”