Page 18 of Arise the Queen

EspeciallyMálik.

She was also, no doubt, protecting herFaerebellion…

And thesomething elseshe’d claimed to be keeping from her father.

What it was Gwendolyn couldn’t know, but it was evidently important enough that Esme would defy even Málik, so much that she’d nearly revealed his true name.

Málik only beat her to the betrayal.

Unbidden, her thoughts returned to the ramparts where Málik had first revealed his truth, and Gwendolyn blinked away an unexpected tear from her lashes.

“I am the son of the Dark One,”he’d said.“The Banished Wyrm. The last true-blood heir to the Tuatha’an throne… and you… you… have been my weakness for a hundred thousand years.”

Unbidden, a vision appeared to her of the two of them lying upon a field of sunflowers under a warm, golden sun. And yet,Gwendolyn knew, beyond any shadow of doubt, that she had never lain in any such place with Málik in her lifetime. She closed her eyes, trying to forget the pain of Málik’s betrayal… trying to get comfortable, yet missing him so desperately.

With a sigh, she rolled onto her belly, then stretched over once more to peer down at the pond, resting her cheek against the rocky edge…

That was where sleep claimed her… whilst thinking of Málik… staring into that beautiful, trickling stream… and… perhaps she was dreaming…

Or it might have been a trick of the light because… after a time, she spied her face transformed in the pool’s reflection…

Mayhap this was how others saw her… with her golden hair… pointy ears and… when she parted her lips to smile at the passing of a bright-tailed fish… she glimpsed a perfect set of gleaming porbeagle teeth.

8

Resisting the call to wake, Gwendolyn squeezed her eyes shut against the persistent sound of dribbling water.Under normal circumstances, it might have been a perfectly soothing sound, but she was not so muddle-headed as to believe she was lazing beside a glistening stream under a bright yellow sun… with Málik.

Alas, no matter how her dreams might have endeavored to deceive her, she could not forget where she lay her head, nor the last moments she’d spent in the mortal realm. Here, in this dreary place, the air was as cold as a well digger'sarse, and she would gladly have huddled beneath her father’s cloak—if she only had it.

Instead, she lay shivering, half-awake, yearning for things she ought not think about…

Trust no one,Málikhad demanded.

Remember!he’d said.

And then he’d betrayed her with his kiss.

Gwendolyn mumbled an oath beneath her breath, and with a huff, rolled over, facing the cavern wall, drawing up her knees.

This was the best she could do to ward away the chill.

All night long, her dreams had been far too vivid—mostly of him, and none too coherent, with the two of them cavorting in places she had never even visited. Was it only days ago she’d lain so contentedly in his arms?

Yes.

It was.

Blood and bloody bones.

His name was a sigh that slid from her lips. But then a new sound joined the morning cacophony—a livelyplip,plip, plipfrom the pond below… louder every time it presented itself. At first, Gwendolyn tried to ignore it, burying her sleep-crumpled face into the crook of her arm to hide from this world, but just when it seemed she would succeed, there came a rude, loud buzz about her head.

Piskies.

“Go away,” she begged. “Please!”

They would not.

Naturally.