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Escaped (Imprisoned by the Fae 2)

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It switches to his. “You thanking me, human?”

Mine again. “Yes.” A pause. “Why? Is that wrong?”

“How did you do that?” I breathe out after a moment’s surprise. That sounded so much like me, it gave me chills.

“Never you mind, girly. That was you, yeah?”

I don’t know. Maybe? I… vaguely remember saying something like that. Every time I said “thanks” to Rys, he never took it well and I sort of remember Grimly having an even stranger reaction when the polite platitude just slipped out at the inn.

And then he said something like, “You owe ol’ Grimly a favor. I’ll call it in someday…”

Favor.

Oh, boy. That can’t be good.

Looks like someday means today.

He knows. I don’t know how Grimly can tell, but there’s a note of triumph in his voice when he announces, “You owe me a favor. It’s not right for you to try to run away before I can call it in. So here I am. Here you are. And I know exactly what you’re going to do for me before you try to disappear again, girly.”

I don’t know what happens when someone refuses to complete a bargain with the fae, but I doubt it’s good. And if the gnome came all this way to track me down so that he could call in this “favor” already, I might as well do what he wants. It’s probably better than having it hanging over my head.

One thing for sure, I’m never going to say “thanks” to another being in Faerie ever again.

“Alright. If it’ll make us even, fine. What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing much. There are three things I’m in search of. You’re going to gather them up and bring them to me. When all of the three are in my hand, only then I’ll consider your debt met, our contract complete.”

“Three?” I echo. “That doesn’t seem fair.”

Especially since I still don’t think I really owe him a favor just for being polite.

“If ol’ Grimly says it’s fair, then it is.”

“But why three?”

He takes another pull on his pipe. Staring at the embers as the red color deepens to ruby, I can almost see wisps of the same weirdo orange smoke that wafted out of his pipe at the inn. He exhales softly, then says, “Why not?”

I give up. It’s pointless to continue arguing with him. And who knows? Maybe three’s a magic number here. In my world, tons of fairy tales revolved around three. A genie’s three wishes, the three bears, three pigs. Makes sense.

Then again, maybe he’s just a greedy little bastard. That makes even more sense.

Either way, I’m screwed.

“Okay. Fine. Three favors. You want to tell me what they are so I can start?”

“Not here.”

I’ve just about had enough. “Oh, come on—”

&nbs

p; “The shadows have ears,” mutters Grimly. “Here, come with me.”

Something tells me that I don’t have a choice.

I wonder if the gnome can see in the dark. Maybe that’s why his eyes look like that. I thought it had something to do with whatever the hell he’s smoking but maybe not. Despite the shadows, Grimly moves purposely as if he can see exactly where he’s going—and like he has a precise destination in mind.

Which, I discover after a short walk, he does.



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