Page 83

“ F ucking maze,” Fane mumbled.

How long had he been wandering the spiraling paths? Hours, maybe days. He was exhausted, his tongue thick from thirst.

Sindre was toying with him, the bastard. The man was a Gifted illusionist. He could conjure up nightmares so real you could touch them.

Fane had to keep moving. To stop—to give in any way—might be fatal.

He set his right hand on the wall. Wasn’t there something about a right-hand rule?

Touch the wall of a maze with your right hand and at every turn, go right, and you’ll eventually find your way out.

But you had to do it as soon as you entered the maze, so it was probably too late.

And it wouldn’t work anyhow on a maze that continually remade itself.

He kept his hand on the wall anyway, and trudged on.

Where was Marjani? Had the goblins captured her while he was lost in this endless white world?

If only he hadn’t accepted Sindre’s geas . But he had, and a geas was almost impossible to break.

Even if he did manage to break it, he’d lose everything: his job as an envoy, the money he’d earned since accepting the bargain. Worse, he’d be shamed, known throughout the magical world as a vow-breaker.

The shame wouldn’t fall on just him, either. It would attach to his dad, Arne, and maybe even Roald.

Back when he’d accepted the geas , ninety-nine human years hadn’t seemed that long. But now the years inched by…and he still had thirty-nine to go.

“Sleep,” a woman murmured. “You’re safe.”

“No.” He shook his head from side to side. “I’ll die. And the king will get Marjani.”

“Is that what’s bothering you? I’m right here. Safe. We’re both safe.”

He opened his eyes. Marjani’s face swam into view, but he didn’t trust his eyes. It would be just like Sindre to taunt him with the one woman Fane most wanted.

“Jani?” he croaked. “It’s really you? This isn’t some trick?”

“I’m here.” A warm hand settled on his chest. “See? You can feel me, right?”

“Thank the gods.” He gripped her fingers…and the world whirled away.

He’d walked for another endless day when the wall disintegrated into a chilly white mist that slowly engulfed him. He tried to outrun it, but it was all around him.

No. It’s a trick.

He lifted his chin. “Mind over matter, Fane.” Because if he could somehow see through the illusion, it would disappear.

The fog covered his face. Reaching his arms out in front of him, he stumbled blindly forward until his legs gave out.

So much for mind over matter.

“At least,” he told Sindre as the blackness came up to meet him, “you don’t have Jani.”

He could swore he heard the king chuckle.

“I’m here,” she said. “I’m here.”

He didn’t know how long he was out—an hour? A day? But when he came to, the fog was gone and he was curled up on the stone floor, shivering.

He groaned and wrapped his arms around himself.

“Easy, now.” Gentle hands lifted him onto a lap, stroked the side of his face. A woman, but it couldn’t be Marjani. After what he’d done, she must be far away by now.

His eyelids seemed to have been glued shut. “Mom?”

“No. It’s me—Jani.”

He pried open his sticky lids and focused on the woman gazing down at him with a furrowed brow. “Jani?” Relief washed through him. “You’re…okay. It wasn’t a dream.”

“Shh—don’t talk. Drink.” She slid a hand under his head to lift it, and then set a cup to his lips.

He gulped the water greedily, draining the cup. “More.”

“Okay.” She set the cup down and started to move him off her.

“No!” Panicked, he grabbed her legs. “Don’t leave.”

“Just for a minute. You have a fever—you need water.”

“No.” He tightened his grip on her, not giving a fuck that he was being unreasonable. Marjani was the solid boulder around which the rest of the world swirled. If she left him, he’d be engulfed by the maze again.

“Okay.” Cool fingers stroked his hair back from his face. “Calm down.”

“Thank you,” he rasped and dozed off. When she lifted his head off her lap and set it on something soft, he was too weak to protest. Then he passed out. This time, his sleep was dreamless.

When he next opened his eyes, his head ached and he was hot as Hades, his mouth so dry he could barely swallow. He peered blearily around for Marjani, but she was nowhere to be seen.

His heart slapped wildly against his rib cage.

Had she left him? Or worse, been seized by the goblins?

She murmured something against his shoulder and his heart resumed its normal tempo. She was spooned up against his back, her arm around his waist, her breathing the slow, steady rhythm of sleep.

Relieved, he let out a jagged exhale and then stilled, afraid to wake her in case she left for real. But she had the senses of a cat.

She sat up, yawning, and set her fingers to his forehead. “Holy mother. You’re burning up.”

Rising to her feet, she stripped off her T-shirt and soaked it in the thermal pool. She had on a plain black exercise bra—of course. This woman wouldn’t be caught dead in anything lacy.

As she wrung out the T-shirt, he eyed the strong, beautiful muscles in her shoulders and arms. A wry grin tugged on his mouth. He finally had her stripping off her clothes and he was too damn weak to do anything about it.

She returned with the wet T-shirt and set it on his forehead. He closed his eyes as the ache in his head receded.

“Here. Drink something.” She lifted his head—so gently it made his heart clench—and held a cup to his lips. Somehow, he hadn’t thought she had it in her.

Not that he deserved her kindness. Hell, if he was Marjani, he’d bang his head on the cavern floor. Hard.

He sucked the water down. “More, please.”

She nodded and made another trip to the pool—three trips in all before he’d had enough water. By then the T-shirt had warmed from his skin. He turned it over so that the cooler side lay against his forehead.

Marjani took it and wiped his face and neck before rising to wet it again.

He felt under his head. He was laying on soft wool. He turned his head to look at it.

“You…need your sweater.” He tugged at it.

“No worries.” She returned to drape the wet cloth over his forehead again, covering his eyes. “It’s warm in here, and if I get too cold, I can always shift to my cougar.”

He pushed up the T-shirt to look at her. “I…thank you.”

Tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. He pulled the cloth back down and lay there, humiliated.

She touched his wrist. “You’d have done the same for me.”

“If you believe that…” He trailed off.

Because he would’ve.

In fact, he’d thrown away his whole way of life for her. If he was lucky, Sindre would release him from the geas . If not, he was going to spend the next thirty-nine turns of the sun in a private hell of the ice fae king’s making.

Arne was going to be disappointed—he’d stuck his neck out for Fane, arguing that his son deserved a chance even if he was only a quarter fae. And his grandfather Roald would sear him with one of those looks that said, What do you expect from a mixed-blood ?

His chest tightened, and what felt like a chunk of basalt lodged in his gut.

Marjani sat next to him, legs folded lotus-style. “Rest.” She set a hand on his heart. “Right now, you need to get better. Everything else can wait.”

He moved his chin, a short up-and-down motion.

She turned over the damp cloth. “Close your eyes.”

When he obeyed, she smoothed it over his forehead and then placed her hand over his heart again.

Marjani was safe. That made it all worthwhile.

The tightness in his chest eased and he fell into a deep, healing sleep.