Page 6 of Out of Time (The Ice King Chronicles #3)

Glorfindel

Finally, the candles, which weren’t much larger than my finger, burned all the way to ash and still Ethan hadn’t come back. I sat there fidgeting for a few more moments and decided to brave Ethan’s wrath and just leave. Surely, he wouldn’t mind if I went back out into the store.

I saw Marcy right away. She was talking to a customer but waved at me to come over. I shamelessly eavesdropped on what they were saying.

“Dee does our Tarot card readings but she’s in now with another customer. I do the Psychic Readings if you decide to do that. Our prices depend on the time we spend on the sessions, and they’re listed here on this paper.” She handed the woman a sheet of paper. “If you have any questions, just let me know.”

She took my arm and drew me away, heading back to the front of the store.

“Oh,” I said, trying to make this whole thing a bit more normal. “Are you psychic then?” I asked, just to make conversation. I didn’t really care, but I thought I should try to make friends.

“Oh no, not at all.” She smiled at me and then spotted someone standing nearby waving money at her. “Oh, a customer. See you later, Finn,” she said and took off, leaving me standing alone.

That’s when Ethan cleared his throat behind me.

“Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“I did, but you were taking too long. Anyway, I need to know about your store, don’t I? Marcy was telling me she’s not psychic.”

“Yeah, well, she’s not actually.”

“But how can she…?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s for entertainment purposes only. And you won’t be doing anything like that anyway,” Ethan said. “Your job is to dust and straighten the merchandise, sweep the floor and behave your damn self. That’s it. Do you understand?”

I stood up straighter and clicked my heels together like I’d seen King Tarrak’s ice soldiers do, as I snapped off a salute. “Yes, sir. Anything you say, sir.”

Suddenly he was in my face again, bunching up my shirt in his hand and picking me right up off my feet. He brought me to within an inch or two of his face. “I don’t like smart asses. You might want to keep that in mind.”

My hand started to rise, and he snarled at me. “Move that hand any higher and see what happens.”

Since I was afraid of what that might be, I froze in place and didn’t move a muscle.

“Good boy. You’re learning. And the next time you try any of your fucking dark Fairy magic on me, it will the last mistake you’ll ever make.”

Well, when he put it like that...I dropped my hand quickly and swallowed down the spell that had sprung to my lips. I had thought momentarily about turning him into something like a rat but thought better of it. The idea left a bad taste in my mouth, though, and that was new too.

He set me back on my feet, pulled down my shirt and patted my cheek. “Good boy. Now, do we understand each other?”

“Yes, I believe we do.”

“Good. Go get a broom.”

My thoughts were my own, at least, and they were dark indeed as I found the broom he mentioned in the storage closet at the back and began to sweep in a half-hearted, desultory fashion. I was feeling very sorry for myself at that point, thinking that maybe the little pixie witch had wreaked her vengeance on me pretty effectively after all if I was to be stuck here with this mean Sidhe Fairy doing manual labor until I found my true love.

It wasn’t that I was lazy...exactly. I just knew that I was destined for greater things. I was a prince, after all. My skills—and I did have some—weren’t being utilized effectively at all.

I was really skilled at magic, though Ethan kept dismissing it as “Fairy magic.” Normally, it wasn’t at all dark and certainly not infernal. Usually. My own type of magic was more or less Ceremonial, and it depended heavily on rituals involving candles and spells. The kings I’d been sent to over the years all loved for me to use my more explosive spells to aid them in their wars. Offensive spells in battle, like calling down lightning bolts and fireballs on their enemies, could win huge victories for them. Ceremonial spells of any kind could do an enormous and long-lasting amount of damage. It was a flashy kind of magic, showy and ostentatious. Fires, explosions, and colored smoke on a large scale were staples of my craft, when the kings I helped would let me use them. King Tarrak was a bit of a stick-in-the-mud about it, but then he usually didn’t need much help.

I could do the small things too—turn courtiers into frogs and raise humpbacks on pixies when I needed to—but they were just little cantrips and not real magic. They were normally petty things and never intended to last too long anyway. Except in the case of the pixie who’d cursed me, of course.

Ceremonial magic, however—and this was a huge drawback—required vast amounts of energy to perform, and I needed to draw that energy from the Fae realm. Here in this realm, I didn’t have anything to work with. Ethan, on the other hand, didn’t seem to need it at all. He could probably level entire blocks of buildings without using a bit of energy except for what he had inside him. No wonder Drogheda said the Seelie and the Unseelie Courts were both wary of him. He had such a huge font of mostly untapped natural magic. Who knew what he could do if he actually drew on the energies of the Fae realm? If he drew on mine? I needed to be more careful around him.

I spent the rest of my afternoon cleaning and sweeping that stupid store of his. I eventually met the one they were calling Dee, and she explained it wasn’t just an initial but a nickname for Deanna. She was shorter than Marcy and had green hair that I think she dyed, unless she had some pixie or leprechaun blood in her veins. She was nice and offered to “read my cards” sometime when we weren’t busy. I didn’t know when that would be. Mortals were in and out of that store all day, mobs of them, tracking in dust on their big, dirty feet. I got tired of it after a while and put the broom away. Then I stood around, just watching all the mortals come and go. I had nothing else to do.

And wasn’t that a sure sign of how far I’d fallen in my life?

Darcy turned some music on in the store, and it was kind of pleasant. It was a young man singing about how “in this world...you know it’s not the same as it was, as it was, as it was.” Those were the truest words I’d heard all day. I suddenly had such a strong yearning to see my father it was like an actual ache in the pit of my stomach. Still, it was a catchy tune, and I could never seem to stay too sad for long. I was leaning my elbows on the counter, moving my hips in time to the catchy tune, when someone behind me gasped.

I whirled around to see who it was, and a very nice-looking young mortal was standing behind me. He raised his hands like he was surrendering. “I’m so sorry. I know I’m being rude, but you’re just the sexiest thing I’ve seen in a long time.”

“I beg your pardon?” My tone was frosty, but not all that frosty. I may have mentioned he was really good looking. Yes, it was a dreadfully cheesy thing to say, but after the morning I’d had, I enjoyed it.

“I think you took my breath away for a second there. I didn’t mean to offend you, and I am sorry. But you must be some kind of model or something.”

I had no idea what he was talking about, but he seemed to be flattering me, so I smiled encouragingly. “No, unfortunately, I work here.”

“I suppose you’ve got a lot of jealous girlfriends or boyfriends.”

“No, I don’t have a boyfriend at all.”

“You’re kidding. A guy like you?”

“Finn!” came a shout from behind me. I jumped and turned around to see Ethan, the bane of my existence, glaring at me. “What are you supposed to be doing? I’m not paying you to stand around flirting with the customers.”

Since I wasn’t aware he was paying me at all, the whole thing was news to me. Besides, I thought the whole idea of me being here was to meet men. The good-looking customer stepped up gallantly to try and smooth things over. “Oh, don’t blame him, please. I apologize. It was all my fault. I was distracting him.”

Ethan gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Hmm. That doesn’t take much, unfortunately. I’m sorry, but Finn needs to get back to work.”

“Oh, of course. I was just leaving.” He smiled at me and winked. “Bye Finn. Enjoy your afternoon.”

He left, and I turned back to Ethan. “I was just answering a question he had about...the shirts.”

“Mm hm. What question?”

“Oh. Uh, how much they were and what colors we had. You know, the usual sort of shirt questions one might have.”

“And how much are they, Finn?”

“You know, various prices,” I said, not looking directly at him.

“Don’t try your Fairy tricks on my customers. And stop wasting time and fooling around. I mean it, Finn.” He turned and walked away, leaving me gazing after him with pure hatred. Well, maybe pure wasn’t the right word, but there definitely was hatred in there.

“I mean it,” I mocked him under my breath in a hateful little voice that was supposed to sound like Ethan’s. “Don’t use your Fairy tricks on me, because I mean it.”

He glanced back over his shoulder at me then, narrowing his eyes like he’d heard me, and it startled me so much, I stumbled back over the broom and fell down on my ass looking up at him. He smirked even as I jumped back to my feet, my face bright red. I gave him a savage death glare—as soon as he wasn’t looking—and started sweeping furiously until he went away.

My industry didn’t last too long, and after a while, on yet another break, I noticed some trinkets in big, huge jars on the counter near where Dee was using a machine to swipe little cards across a small screen. Sometimes she’d just tap the card, or the mortal would. Then they’d simply walk out with whatever merchandise they wanted. I asked her if they were stealing, but Dee looked at me oddly and said, “No, of course not.”

“But they didn’t give you any gold for it.”

“Huh?”

“I didn’t see them pay you.”

“They used their cards.”

Apparently, cards of various kinds had vast importance here.

Anyway, those jars on the counter began to annoy me. In one of the huge ones, some little trinkets were swimming around at the bottom, so that people had to stick their arms all the way in up to their elbows to get one of them. Meanwhile some of the larger dolls that looked like black cats were stuffed into another jar half the size of the first one right next to it. It made no sense and considering the fact that I was beyond bored, I decided to fix it. I had just emptied out the trinkets and was about to pour the cat dolls into the bigger jar, when I heard Ethan’s voice from right behind me.

“If you’re taking the stuff out of one jar and putting it in another because it’s not up to your rigid aesthetic standards, you’re wasting time again. Pick up a damn dust cloth if you’re so bored.”

I turned and glared at him. No matter how scared of him I was, I’d had it. “Why are you always sneaking around and bothering me? I’m not doing anything.”

“Exactly. You’re a worthless piece of shit.”

I scowled at him. “And you’re a grumpy, mean old man.”

“Who are you calling old? You’re like what, two hundred?”

My face flamed—why did people keep telling me I was old? I was in my prime! “I’m sure old enough to know a fool when I see one.”

“Oh, fuck off.”

“You fuck off.”

“Make me,” he taunted, stepping close and crowding me.

“I hate you so much.” I said, stepping closer too and making a fist. When he only smiled down at me, I got right up in his face and sneered. “Go ahead. Hit me. I know you want to. I dare you.”

I took a swing at him, and he not only dodged it but caught my fist and twisted it behind me, and the next thing I knew I was bent backward over his arm, and he was kissing me within an inch of my life.