Page 3

K ian

I make my way back down the hallway. If I’m caught now, I won’t be able to talk my way out of it, but I don’t care. I’m doing this. I have to convince one of these witches by the eclipse around noon tomorrow, or all will be lost.

I find her door. According to the black paint, it’s lucky number thirteen.

The smooth wood of the door feels cool beneath my knuckles as I rap twice.

The sound echoes down the hallway, a slow double-thud that seems to reverberate in the silence of the court.

Long moments pass. My heart beats faster with each one.

I knock again, a little harder this time.

Come on! Come on!

I’m sure she’s in there.

“What is it?” the witch asks as she opens the door, rubbing her bloodshot eyes. Her brown hair is disheveled, and her clothes rumpled. She looks like she hasn’t slept in days. “Who are you? What do you want?” Her voice is groggy. Her gaze goes from tired to wary as she takes me in.

“We met earlier…” I use my thumb to point down the hallway. “Well, not officially. I’m—”

“I remember. Rhiannon didn’t seem to like you much, either. What do you want?” she snaps.

I find myself wondering if all witches are this touchy or if I bring out the worst in them. Perhaps it’s a bit of both.

“I’m trying to partner up with—”

“Not interested.” She shakes her head. “I’m in no mood to be partnering up with anyone.

I need to sleep for a week… If only that were possible,” she mumbles to herself.

“Maybe if I weren’t so tired.” She yawns, giving me the once-over.

“You’re certainly attractive enough.” Her eyes flare like she hadn’t meant to say that.

Like she’s shocked that the words even came out of her mouth.

“For a human. But I don’t have time for such things.

I need rest.” She tries to shut the door, but I put my foot out to stop her.

“Apologies, no, um…you misunderstand me.”

She thought I was here for… that . And even considered it, albeit her consideration didn’t last very long.

Now that I actually take her in, I realize that under her tousled outer appearance is quite a beauty.

Her eyes are a mesmerizing shade of hazel, like sunlight filtering through a dense forest canopy.

She’s a little on the thin side but still has curves.

I lift my gaze back to hers. There’s a vulnerability there, a weariness that makes me feel sorry for her.

I can’t help but wonder what trials she has endured to leave such a mark on her spirit.

Then again, I can well imagine. These fae are bastards. Most of them are, at any rate.

“I didn’t come here for that,” I say softly, my voice betraying a hint of sympathy. “I need your help to escape this place. We can help each other get out of here.”

Her tired eyes snap to mine, a glint of defiance sparking within them. “Escape?” she mumbles, looking defeated in the next instant. “And how do you plan on doing that? We’re surrounded by fae, powerful enough to crush us with a flick of their wrist or a thrust of a sword.”

I take a deep breath, steeling myself for what comes next. “I have a plan,” I explain, keeping my tone steady. “But I can’t do it alone. I need someone with power, someone like you.”

She studies me for a long moment, her gaze piercing through me as if searching for deceit.

“Please, just hear me out. My name is Alaric.”

She folds her arms and looks me in the eye. Hers narrow. “How many witches did you approach before coming to my door, Alaric?”

I lick my lips, looking down at my feet before looking back up at her and holding her gaze. “You are the fourth.”

“Why did the others throw you out?”

I shrug. “My plan has holes. It may not work. There are numerous pitfalls…but…” I shrug.

“I have a good feeling about it.” I decide to play open cards with her.

I have nothing to lose at this point. Also, where I felt like I had to play my cards close to my chest before, I don’t feel that with her.

I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because she isn’t nearly as powerful as the others I’ve approached.

Perhaps it’s simply because a different approach is needed. This is my fourth attempt, after all. Probably my final attempt if I want to make curfew.

“A good feeling?” She laughs, shaking her head.

Kakara help me! This is how every single conversation has gone thus far. “Please tell me your name. Please let me in so that we can talk about it.” I notice how she is leaning against the frame. “You look tired. Like you could do with getting off your feet,” I try.

“Fine.” She sounds irritated. “But I meant what I said. I need to get some rest. It’s McColl…my name.”

“Good to meet you, McColl.” I smile at her as I enter her tiny quarters. So small it would be impossible to swing a cat. Even a small one.

The corner of her mouth twitches, but she doesn’t return the smile. I’ll take it!

She sits on the very edge of her tiny cot, and I sit on a rickety wooden chair that would do a better job as firewood.

“I’m all ears.” She has her hands on her thighs, her eyes firmly on me.

“It’s quite simple. I will remove the amulet – I have found a way to do this – and in return, you ensure that we are able to move through the barrier without needing a fae to assist us.”

Her face remains impassive.

“I would attempt to escape myself, but the biggest problem I face is getting through the dome barrier surrounding the Court. I would need to move quickly, and having to bring a hostage fae along would hinder my escape. I don’t think I’d make it out without help.

” The barriers around each Court are designed to allow fae to pass freely.

Humans need to be touching a fae in order to pass.

The fae needs to be alive and conscious, or the barrier won’t relent.

It’s an effective way of keeping us trapped.

Since fae are much stronger than the average human, taking a fae hostage isn’t as easy as it sounds.

It would be easier to escape without the need for one.

Quicker, more efficient, and less risk of recapture.

“Let’s just say that you can, in fact, remove my amulet, and we make it past the barrier. What then? Do we go our separate ways once we are free of the Court?” She lifts her brows.

I shake my head. “I would suggest that we travel together. I know how to survive out there. How to find potable water. How to hunt. What is edible, and what will kill you. You have your magic, which will come in handy, too. Lighting fire, shield spells, and the like. It would be a partnership. I think it would work.” I can’t help the animation that has crept into my voice.

Her eyes turn hazy with what looks like fear. I don’t think she has the skills it would take to survive on her own. She’s thinking of everything that could go wrong, and granted, there’s a lot.

“We would work together to both escape and to reach our destination. I think we would stand a good chance, McColl.” This might just be working. I hold my breath and force myself to stop talking.

A few long moments go by. “What is the plan exactly?” she asks, interest brightening her eyes.

I fill her in, keeping it brief since I haven’t worked out some of the details yet.

“You say that this hammer holds magic. How would you know?” She narrows her eyes. “You’re a human. Humans don’t know much about magic…at least, in my experience.”

“Yes, it…I…” I start to say and then stop, shaking my head.

“It’s a hammer like any other. A straight peen, to be exact.

I’m the new blacksmith…at least until the new permanent one gets here.

Then, I’m going to be sent back to the mines, hence my need to escape before it happens.

We’re heavily guarded down there.” I am tempted to tell her that I am very good at being a miner.

That the fae are desperate to send me back there.

They have not made quota since I started working as a blacksmith.

They need me. I will be hunted down as soon as they realize that I have escaped.

I need a witch to help keep them from tracking and finding us.

I had hoped to convince a powerful one, but that hasn’t proven to be the case. At this point, McColl will have to do.

“Why are you being replaced? Are you no good at being a blacksmith?”

“No…it’s not that. I worked as a striker for a few years before taking up arms.” I lick my lips. “I worked as a mercenary for years until I was captured.”

“So, you’re an apprentice, not an actual blacksmith.” She lifts her brows.

“Yes, and it’s been a while since I worked as a striker…a long while.” I lift my brows. “Since there was no one to replace the blacksmith – he died a few weeks back – they put out the call, and I answered. Turns out I’m the best there is until the new smithy arrives in a couple of days.”

Days. Kakara help me, but the desperation starts to claw at me. I push it down.

“I take it they’re going to send you back underground? That’s why you’re trying to find a way to escape this place?”

I sigh and nod. “Yes, and I refuse for that to be my fate.” I rub my hands on my thighs.

“I’m going to be straight with you, McColl: the hammer isn’t magic at all.

You’re right…I’m desperate. Thing is, we don’t need a magic hammer.

Any hammer will do. I will break the chain keeping the amulet in place, and we will escape. ”

She gasps at my words. “How are you going to break the spell without magic?” She touches the tips of her fingers to the piece of jewelry around her neck.

“It will work. The chain is breakable. I’ve done some research,” I tell her, because I can’t very well mention that it is my gut instincts at work.

I haven’t done any research. I know I’m right.

Just like I know other things I shouldn’t.

I just do. I learned to trust my instincts.

How do you explain that to another person?

Impossible.