Page 69 of First Snow
Jareth wrinkles his nose. There’s something at the edge of his perception that concerns him. Did someone manage to slip inside the castle unnoticed? That shouldn’t be possible.
Rushing into the kitchen, the will-o’-wisp almost crashes into Jareth. It makes a high-pitched, buzzing noise, and flies in frantic circles around him.
“What’s wrong, little one?”
The will-o’-wisp whizzes out through the door. Without a second thought, Jareth runs after it. An uneasy feeling spreads through his gut as he sprints up the stairs, straight to his bedroom. The little wisp hovers outside and seems to want to nudge Jareth to keep going, but he has to check on Arttu first.
“Arttu?” Jareth yanks open the door. The bedroom is empty. This can’t be.
Jareth rushes to the bathroom, but he already knows what he’ll find. The bathroom is abandoned as well. Jareth has no idea what’s going on. He hasn’t lifted the spell that chained Arttu to the bed. He doesn’t want to keep him trapped here, but it’s more important to Jareth to keep his beloved safe. And as long as Briar breathes, Jareth can’t be sure that he won’t come after Arttu too. Is that what happened?
The wisp flies against Jareth’s arm again. Right. It wants him to follow. This time, Jareth doesn’t hesitate. They dash down a hallway and into the labyrinth of corridors that forms the bowels of the castle. It doesn’t take long until Jareth finds himself on the other side of the building near the winter garden.
Sprinting around a corner, he almost crashes into Arttu’s back. Jareth comes to a skidding halt. He can make out the golden cuff around Arttu’s ankle, only half covered by the loose-fitting pants he’s wearing. Jareth’s magic must’ve decided that it’s okay to let Arttu wander the castle freely. Sometimes it lacks basic self-preservation.
“Are you looking for something in particular?” Arttu snarls at two black-clad figures who have just crept in through a broken window. How could Jareth have missed their presence?
Annikki’s hunting rifle casually slung over his arm, Arttu takes a threatening step forward.
The two intruders flinch and spin around—they’re two young women. Jareth recognizes one of them, but not the other. However, he immediately sees why he couldn’t sense them. They’re covered in concealing runes, and they’re carrying swords of cold iron and an unlit torch, fully prepared to fight a Fae.
“Emily? Tuulia? What are you doing here?” Arttu asks.
The blonde girl—Tuulia—looks at Jareth and her eyes widen.
“Rescuing you,” she gasps. “Run!”
Taking a glance over his shoulder, Arttu’s posture relaxes as he finds Jareth standing behind him. The display of trust has Jareth’s heart make a happy leap.
“It looks like we’re having guests,” Jareth grumbles. “Good thing I made a lot of pancakes.”
The two girls look at each other, and then at Arttu. Jareth’s instincts tell him to step close to his beloved. He wants to put an arm around Arttu’s waist and shield him from their uninvited guests. But Arttu most likely wouldn’t appreciate that. And these are Arttu’s friends, worried for his well being; he can’t begrudge them that.
“Yeah, we’re just here to make sure Arttu is okay,” Emily says.
Tuulia grins nervously as she takes her hand from the hilt of her sword and steps a little closer. There’s something wrong here.
Jareth sends a surge of magic in the direction of the two. It’s not meant to do anything in particular, and, of course, isn’t meant to hurt. For someone who has no magic, it’s probably not even detectable. But instead of washing harmlessly over the girls, Jareth’s magic crashes into a barrier. Damn. He takes a quick step forward to cover Arttu if necessary.
“There’s no enchantment to break, ladies. Your friend is here of his own free will,” says a voice from behind the women.
The barrier cracks open as the person standing behind Emily and Tuulia drops his glamour.
“What the fuck?” Arttu hisses and raises his rifle, aiming at the tall man standing behind the women.
“You brought a witch into my house?” Jareth growls. He hasn’t met one in decades.
“There’s no thrall on him? Are you sure?” Tuulia asks suspiciously.
“Absolutely sure,” the witch says. His green eyes never leave Jareth, carefully assessing the situation.
“Are we going to ignore the fact that Faeling has fucking horns?” Emily quips.
“I told you he’s most likely a Fae Lord,” the witch retorts.
“And still, you agreed to bring two humans into my home?” Jareth asks the witch angrily. What in the name of the wild hunt was he thinking, bringing these girls here? Did he really think he could handle Jareth if it came to a fight?
The witch shrugs nonchalantly and pushes the strands of his red fringe from his brow with a jerk.