Page 2 of Arise the Queen

And then, all the while it continued to groom itself, it hummed—that same tune Gwendolyn recalled from the Druid’s Hall. Only this time when he introduced the words, she understood every one…

A babe was bequeathed by two Fae,

Two gifts, and a lie they say.

One younger, one elder,

One wiser, one skelder,

Then, sniggering, stole away.

“Danger!” shrieked thepiskies, as they quickly scattered, taking Gwendolyn’s meager light along with them, abandoning her to the darkness.

The Púca stopped singing and Gwendolyn’s spine tingled with dread at the reverberating sound of heavy footfalls. Unsheathing her Kingslayer, she drew it out onto her lap only to find that the runic inscriptions on the blade were glowing… blue.

“Trolls!” hissed the cat-sidhe.

2

“Hide!”

“Where?”

No sooner had the Púca spoken when he shifted form—like a polypous, bearing semblance to the obsidian stone that permeated the grotto. Answering her with silence now, he flattened himself parchment-thin over the boulder, then hugged the stone close as two small, hirsute creatures came sauntering into view.

Gwendolyn’s heart skipped at the sight of them.

These were trolls?

Blood and bloody bones.

She lay splattered along their path, with nowhere to go, and not entirely certain she hadn’t actually broken a bone, judging by yet another pang that materialized between her arse cheeks.

Apparently, Málik didn’t intend to join her.

As he once had in her uncle’sfogous, she’d half expected for him to materialize, and light his Faerie flame.

But no.

Gwendolyn sat unmoving, gaping at her sword glowing blue, the reality of her situation accosting her like a rude, malodorous belch.

No time for tears.

No time for regrets.

And no thanks to Málik, she was lost, undefended and alone, except for this damnable Púca, whose fealty she had yet to discern.

And clearly, he did not intend to defend her.

Indeed, his purpose thus far appeared to be only to present himself as thedeamhanon her shoulders—scolding her at will.

Gods knew Gwendolyn didn’t need him to explain thatelfwasn’t proper. She wasn’t intending to be proper! Never during the entire time she had known Málik had she been more furious with him.

Ugly and foul, the trolls came marching straight toward Gwendolyn, their snips and snarls filling the grotto, and the closer they came, the brighter the glow of her sword, until she feared the luminesce would give her away.

Trolls, really?Gwendolyn had always imagined them to be giants. They were so oft depicted as large, brutish, grotesque beings—and grotesque they were, brutish as well, but these two were anything but large.

In fact, the tallest of the two was scarcely taller than Gwendolyn. To her mind, they appeared to be more like blighted Fae, which was to say there was still something about them that proclaimed them as Fae, despite their corrupted forms. Both had the same pointed ears and porbeagle teeth as Esme. But whereas Esme’s open-mouthed grin could stop a man’s heart from beating, it would be impossible for either of these two beasts to hide their gobs full of teeth.