Total pages in book: 136
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128374 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Pretend I want to marry the prince so I can infiltrate the castle, steal a few magical faerie artifacts, and free my sister. I can do this.
“If I retrieve these three artifacts and return them to . . .” I hesitate. I don’t want to give anything to this male who thinks human girls are objects to be purchased, and some instinct has me subtly reworking his terms. “If I return the artifacts to the Unseelie Court, you will return my sister safely to a location of my choice in the human realm.” It’s not a question. These are my terms.
His silver eyes glow. He knows he’s won. “You have my word, Fire Girl.”
“Swear it on your power.”
He flinches, and his features harden for a beat before he replaces his friendly mask. “Who told you about that?”
I shrug. “Everyone knows,” I lie. “Unfortunately, it’s the only way I can trust you.”
“Fine. With one caveat. If you tell anyone from the Seelie Court about this arrangement, our bargain is over and I’ll give your sister to my goblins as a solstice gift. Do you understand?”
Who would I tell? The only soul I trust in this realm is Jasalyn. “I understand.”
He smiles. “We have a deal then. Once the three artifacts are returned to my court where they belong, I will send your sister safely back to a location of your choice in the human realm.”
“Alive,” I snap. It seems like safe should cover that, but I won’t allow him to work a loophole.
“Alive. I swear it on my power.” With a snap of his fingers, a silver-gilded mirror appears in his hand. “This is a replica of the Mirror of Discovery. When you find it, replace it with this so the queen won’t know it’s missing.”
“What happens when she realizes it’s a fake?”
He shakes his head. “Only one with Unseelie blood can tell the difference.”
“Where will I find this mirror?”
He shrugs. “All I know is that Arya has hidden it away in the Seelie Court. You may have to search to get your hands on it, but that shouldn’t be a problem for someone who found her portal.” He smirks and offers me the mirror. “You may stand.”
I shift experimentally and find that the invisible bonds have slipped away. Standing, I realize I’m still clutching the scrap of Jas’s smock in one hand. I take the mirror in the other, willing myself not to shake. “Will I bring it to you through the portal once I’ve found it?”
“The portal’s been . . . disabled.” His goblin laughs, and Mordeus smirks in his direction. “My goblin will retrieve you and it when the time is right.”
I don’t enjoy feeling like the butt of a joke, but I let my pride get the best of me last night and lost hours—hours I could have been searching for the mirror. If I get to take my sister home, they can laugh at me all they want. “What are the other two artifacts?”
“Focus on one task at a time, my girl. I will tell you the second when I have the first.” He claps his hands, and a trio of elven fae females appear around me. They share the king’s pale skin but have short, light blue hair. “Dress Abriella for the Seelie Court. Make her look like his future queen, then return her to the Golden Palace.”
The three females bow their heads in acquiescence. “Yes, Your Majesty,” they say in unison. One takes my arm, and I follow them toward a door in the back of the room.
“Abriella,” the king says. I stop and turn to him, meeting his eyes. “When you meet Prince Ronan, remember that you need him. Hold his trust, or you will be unable to infiltrate his court.”
“I understand my mission.”
He spreads his fingers, and a ball of darkness bleeds like an inkblot between them. “You’ll be fine if you remember what’s at stake.” The ball of darkness shifts until it’s not darkness at all, but an image of Jasalyn and me sitting on the floor at Madame V’s. She’s in her pajamas, and she looks like she just crawled out of bed. The smile on her face makes me step closer to that image, despite the man holding it.
He adds, “Or, I should say . . . who.”
Chapter Seven
“THERE HAS TO BE ANOTHER WAY,” I say, stepping away from the goblin at my door. After I was given an opportunity to bathe and the king’s servants dressed me like a doll, King Mordeus sent his goblin to escort me to the queen’s palace. I don’t care to put that much trust in a creature who has wiped drool from his mouth twice since I came into his view.
“King Mordeus long ago destroyed his brother Oberon’s portal to the Seelie lands,” one handmaiden says.