Freed (Imprisoned by the Fae 3)

I wouldn’t have cared if it came to that. Swallowing my pride, inserting myself between Rys and Jim again… it would be worth it if we could find one of the protective circles that saved my ass last time.

Of course, this is me we’re talking about. Did I really think it would be that easy?

The five of us travel through the woods for another hour but there’s no sign of any of the protective circles. No flowers. No grass, either, really. In the time since I’ve last been in the Shadow Realm, the ice has thickened. It developed a rocky crust that is both jagged and slippery in certain patches. If it wasn’t for the warmth of Riley’s conjured shadows, I’d probably freeze my tits off.

The way Riley can manipulate the shadows reminds me of Morgan and the black barrier that hid her cottage from the rest of the woods. Like the fleasc, I could only find it because Grimly pointed it out to me, but I was able to push my way past the shadows. Inside the barrier, it was even warmer than my protective circle, and Morgan was always so good to me.

“Too bad we can’t just go find Morgan,” I mutter. “Then we wouldn’t need one of those stupid circles.”

I didn’t mean for anyone to hear me. It was more thinking out loud than anything else. But Jim asks, “Morgan? Who’s that?”

“Remember how I told you that I’ve been in this part of Faerie before?” When Jim nods, I explain, “Morgan was a friend I made. We… we got separated when she was helping me find my way out of the Unseelie Court.”

Separated… that’s a good way to put it. Becaus

e I purposely chose not to tell him what I’ve lived through these last two months, Jim doesn’t know anything about either time I was captured by the redcap and his brutish trolls before being sold at auction. The last time I saw Morgan, the two of us had stumbled into one of the redcap’s pit traps. One troll had me slung over his shoulder, the other made off with Morgan. I’m still not quite sure what happened after that—the redcap mentioned that gentle, kind Morgan, um, smashed the rocky troll—but I’ve never seen her again.

It’s a shame. I only knew her for little more than a week, but I liked her. I miss her, too. I really would like to see her again—and not just because she told me her home was always open to me.

I didn’t realize that the others were listening to me and Jim until Nine clears his throat. “This Morgan… is she a Dark Fae? Is she like me?”

It takes everything I have to swallow my snort. Except for their coloring, Morgan is nothing like Nine. She was kind and—for a fae—extremely generous, plus very interested in anything human-related. But I’m not about to insult Nine, so I just say, “She’s Unseelie. She lives in a cottage in these woods.”

“A cottage?” For the first time since we stopped to eat, Jim perks up. I don’t blame him. Like me, he’s a city kid through and through. He hasn’t complained yet—and I don’t expect him to—but I know he’s no fan of the outdoors. The horse ride was bad enough though the carriage was comfier than I expected, and he was the only one of us visibly disappointed when we left the horses behind us. I don’t think he thought we were going to be sleeping outside in the cold when he insisted on tagging along. “Maybe we should go visit her. I mean, if we’re heading that way.”

Honestly, I’d love to see Morgan again, check to see if she made it back to the safety of her hidden cottage in one piece. She always looked forward to my visits, and I could only imagine how excited she’d be if I brought two humans with me.

“I would if I could, but...” I exhale. Hey. It’s not like the others don’t already know that my sense of direction is shit. Jim and Rys know me, and I made sure to tell Nine and Riley while we were traveling toward the Court’s divide. “She’s in the woods somewhere. I couldn’t even begin to remember how to find my way to her place. I’d only get us hopelessly lost if I tried.”

And that’s not even counting the fact that she has it shadowed and hidden on purpose.

Jim doesn’t argue with my refusal. Considering I’ve gotten on the wrong bus before and ended up in an entirely different part of downtown than I meant to, making him leave his dad’s garage to come rescue me, he accepts my answer easily. Doesn’t stop me from wishing I could tell him otherwise.

I expect Rys to point out that we don’t have time to make a pitstop anyway. I’m the one who was all aboard the “let’s get this over with as soon as possible” train, so going out of our way and—most likely—getting terribly lost in the process isn’t the world’s best idea.

Which is why I’m surprised when Rys speaks up.

He edges near, closing the small gap he’s purposely kept between the rest of us. “If it pleases you, I could lead us to your friend.”

He can? Really? “What?” My forehead wrinkles in confusion—or maybe it’s skepticism. It’s… it’s probably skepticism. “How? Have you been there before?”

He hesitates for a moment before shaking his head.

Hm. Being skeptical was a good call, huh?

Something about his hesitation warns me against pushing the subject. I should just be glad that Rys can do it. What’s the point in asking why?

Too bad that doesn’t stop me.

“Then how do you know where to go to find Morgan’s cottage?”

“I wouldn’t be looking for her cottage.”

“That doesn’t make any sense.”

“I think I understand,” Riley cuts in. “It’s a fae thing. If he touched you, he can find you anywhere. If the trail is recent enough, he could pick up on it. I mean, I can’t, but, like I said, I’m only half. Nine can do it. Rys probably can, too. Right?”

Because it’s Riley asking him a direct question and not me, Rys answers in that strangely, bravado-filled way that I’m not quite used to yet. He even offers a mocking bow that has me frowning. “Right you are, Shadow. Since Elle has visited her friend a few times, I should be able to follow her trace.”