Trapped (Imprisoned by the Fae 1)

But that’s not the only other thing that moves.

“Oh my—”

“Don’t stare,” Saxon says conversationally. “The huldra won’t like it.”

I don’t know what a huldra is, but I know what I saw. “She has a tail.”

It looks like it belongs on a cow, too. It’s really long, super skinny, and it has a tuft of fur at the end that’s a match for Hildy’s hair color.

Huh.

Hildy. Huldra.

Too bad I don’t have any clue what a huldra is.

In answer to my obvious surprise, Saxon explains, “All huldra do. Until they find their ffrindau and the tail falls off. It’s rude to mention it beforehand.”

Ffrindau… now why does that word sound familiar? I swear I heard it before, though maybe I’m just imagining it. It sounds like ‘friend’ but not, and the Seelie says it so matter-of-factly, that I just go along with it.

What else can I do?

I can’t believe this is happening. After being locked up in the fairy prison for all those weeks, I’m sitting in an inn run by a babe with a tail, talking to one of my jailers who sounds like he’s chatting about the weather instead of turning me in for breaking out of my cell and escaping.

This can’t be happening, only it is—and, Jesus, I need a drink.

Grabbing the mug nearest to me by the bottom, I pull it so that it’s perched on the edge of the table. I peek inside. I don’t know exactly what I’m expecting, but I blink a couple of times to double-check that I’m not seeing things.

It’s… pink. And, honestly, after everything I’ve seen since I’ve been in Faerie, that isn’t even a little surprising. A pink drink? Sure. Okay. But a pink drink that sparkles like flecks of glitter float on the skim?

Leaning over the mug, I sniff it.

Why am I not surprised that it smells like a mixture of cotton candy, apples, and something super boozy?

Oh, well. Bottom’s up.

I’ve barely lifted the mug when Saxon clears his throat. Looking over the brim, I notice that he’s shaking his head just enough for me to catch onto it.

His voice stays low and conversational as he murmurs, “I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”

I set the mug down. “Why not?”

“That’s fairy wine. A gentle drink for one like me, but the lower races tend to drink themselves into a stupor whenever they get their grubby paws on it. You? A full human wouldn’t even last that long. One sip and you’d fall into a deep sleep, lucky if you woke up again.”

I really, really wish he was making that up. Unfortunately, there’s no chance. Every word Saxon tells me is true.

That’s… not good.

“Why would she serve me this?” I wonder out loud. “Everyone knows I’m human.”

“That’s exactly why. The market has set up camp two villages over—”

“Let me guess,” I sigh, resigned. I should’ve known that something like this would happen. “I’d fetch a pretty penny there.”

Been there. Done that. Never ever want to do it again.

The nix—the mermaid-like water sprite I met at the Faerie market—mentioned how her trip to the auction block was her third. The redcap who ran the bidding told me I should be happy that a Seelie noble had paid for me since odds were good that he’d want to keep me forever.

Which might have been true if I didn’t piss off Veron by refusing to let him come near me. But I did and he retaliated by having me shipped off to Siúcra. Now that I’ve managed to escape the prison, I don’t want to go back—and I definitely don’t want to be sold at the market a second time.