Trapped (Imprisoned by the Fae 1)

“Why?” Saxon must’ve made a gesture toward us or something because Coal scoffs. “You’re worried about the traitor? If Oberon cared about the queen’s prisoners, he would’ve either freed this one or had him executed with the rest.”

“What about the girl?”

“Human. There’s only one good use for them and that’s as a slave.” Coal’s scoff turns into a dark chuckle. “Oberon is soft on the humans. He spent two hundred years among them. I can’t wait to see his face wh

en he realizes that he’ll be their downfall.”

“I thought the point of the rebellion was to cause him to lose the throne.”

“Oh, it is. The Summer King survived Brinkburn, but the Fae Queen proves that a blade doesn’t discriminate. Without his head, however will he wear his crown?”

“Coal.”

“What? It’s the truth. But even before his execution, the order’s been made. Any human with ties to Faerie is to be killed in the name of the rebellion, starting with the Shadow. Her fae blood won’t save her. If she steps foot past the veil again, not even Ninetroir will save her halfling head from meeting the blade.”

“Yes, but what about her?”

I go absolutely still. There’s no doubt in my mind that I’m the her Saxon mentions.

“Siúcra claims souls all the time. If anything happens to her and Captain Helix actually cares, he’ll understand. Oh, Saxon. Don’t look at me like that. She’s just a human. Besides, after what she did to Dusk, she’s lucky to have survived the shadows.” He makes a soft derisive noise that scares me as much as it makes me angry. “Though I guess she didn’t survive the traitor.”

After that comment, everything becomes white noise. Or maybe their conversation comes to a close. Possible. They could be quiet, or maybe the silence of my stunned, frightened brain is too loud. All I know is that, when they move away from our cell a few minutes later, I’m on the edge of my control.

Me? I’m vibrating in place, anxious to get up. To do something. Anything. To pace? Pacing sounds good. But I don’t. I stay on the bed, watching Rys, pleading with him to make sense of this, waiting for some sign that this is all a dream.

But it’s not. And, hell, I’m not in Kansas anymore.

Together, we hear the whoosh of the door dissolve, followed by the soft steps as the two guards continue on their way together. Rys still doesn’t move. I feel like screaming, but I stay silent.

It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever done.

Minutes pass. The torches finally die out as the sliver of daylight peeks in from the narrow windows above the hallways. The fairy lights wink back on.

Finally, Rys nods. He climbs out of the cot. I pop up like a freaking Jack-in-the-Box.

He checks that we’re alone, that none of the guards are nearby, before he turns to me.

“Don’t worry—”

“Don’t worry?” It comes out as a screech. Sue me. “He’s talking about killing the king and… and killing me—”

“That will never happen, Elle.”

“—and they want to kill this Shadow person and what about you, Rys? They keep calling you a traitor. You hate the queen. You’re probably on the top of their shitlist, too—”

“Leannán. Hush.”

That’s probably the only way he could stop my frightened rambling. I cut it off with a gulp then nod. “Okay. I’m… I’m okay.”

“You’re not,” Rys says. “But you will be.” He grits his teeth. “I didn’t want to do this.”

“Do what?”

“It was safer in here. There was no reason for me to go. I deserved to be in here, but maybe this is my chance to make amends for everything I’ve done wrong. I must tell myself that. Understand?”

Is it Rys’s turn to ramble now? I have no idea what any of that means, or what it has to do with the question I asked him.

“Rys. What are you talking about?”