by Noree Cosper
My hand half raised in an attempted to wave him off. “You go. I think I’m done for.”
“Don’t say that,” he snapped. “My life is bound to yours. If you die, I die. Now get up.”
It was true. The Ritual of Familiars I’d performed when I was ten summoned Morphy to me and intertwined our life force. I’d been a scared little girl, lost and lonely after my mother had died, and I hadn’t known what I was doing. Luckily, it had worked. Morphy guided me from my home, hidden in the Wyrdlands to the Dyfed Respite, where the witches had taken me in. He’d save my life more times that I could count. I couldn’t just give up now.
I tried to sit up, but my arms wouldn’t hold my weight and I fell back into the snow. “It’s no use. I can’t go any farther.”
“Looks like I have to save us then. Stay here.” He tilted his head with his eyes narrowing and flew off down the ridge.
Why was he going that way? It was the complete opposite direction of the Respite. Miles of snow and trees stretch for days the way we came. I didn’t think it mattered too much. We were probably too far away for help to reach us.
Dylan’s face, filled with laughter, flitted across my mind sending a smile to my lips. Well, if I was going to die, I was glad my last thoughts would be of him. He would have had a great plan for how to handle the Cŵn Annwn. Then he probably would have joked about whether they tasted good.
The roar of a motor rebounded off of the ridge around me. I raised my head as hope filled my chest. Maybe it wasn’t too late.
The ridge above me was empty, but the sound of the motor grew closer. With a groan, I rolled over and stared down the ridge. My heart sank at the sight of the burgundy sleigh headed my direction, led by Morphy.
He’d brought a Fae, of all creatures, to my rescue. I would live, but only to be food.
3
I didn’t fight as the Fae and his three identical witch companions loaded me into the sleigh and wrapped me in a blanket. The motorized roar didn't help in my attempt to stay awake, nor did the fur comforter around my shoulders. Still, I sure as hell wasn't going to fall asleep with him only a few inches away.
In the seat across from us, one of his companions pulled her fur coat tighter as her glare traveled from my face to the blanket I had around me. The wind had pulled a lock of her brown hair out from her hood to brush against her cheek with the tips coming to her chin. The fine hunting leathers clung to her body in all the right places. Her sister stared out at the passing snowscape with narrowed eyes. The driver focused on driving, not even giving an occasional glance backward. The Fae obviously treated his food source well. I didn’t plan on being one of them, though I didn’t have much fight in me at the moment.
For the fifth time during our ride to where ever he was taking me I jerked upright. Dizziness had set it and the black spots dancing in my vision had grown.
The Fae glanced over me, pushing a lock of my platinum blonde hair away from my sweaty forehead. "Lay back and get some rest, little one. We’ll be home soon and will get that poison out of you."
"I'm fine," I said. "You can just drop me off here and I can make my way."
"Don't be silly," he said. "You're barely able to keep your eyes open much less stand. I know Cŵn Annwn poison when I see it. You don’t have much time before it reaches your heart."
"I don't need the help of a Fae." I glared down at Morphy, who lay curled up in the blanket beside me, dozing. "He made the mistake of finding you."
"So, you'd rather die than accept my help?" The Fae chuckled. "My, aren't you a fierce little witch. However, I must insist you will be my guest at my Pleasure Palace until you are healed."
“Your Pleasure Palace?” The girl on the right asked with a raised eyebrow.
He chuckled. “Well, it’s my dad’s but close enough.”
My heart thudded in my head and not just from the poison. The Pleasure Palace was known in the Wyrdlands. Rhydian, the Fae who ran it, was notorious for taking in witches, mostly women, to add to his harem. He was known as a wet dream, literally, appearing as a witch’s most secret desire as we slept. Unlike most of the Fae, he preferred to live in the Wyrdlands instead of Arcadia, the City of Dreams, or Bedlam, the Nightmare City. Here I was sitting with his son.
Rhydian had to have contacts in Arcadia. What if he turned me over to Nimue? My whole escape would have been for nothing. If he didn’t, I’d probably be expected to join his retinue of witches whose dreams he and his son fed from.
I gripped the back of the seat and made to stand up. If he wasn't going to stop to let me off, I would just have to jump. My legs buckled out from under me. I tumbled back into the seat and against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me. The scent of lavender, lemon, and sandalwood filled my nostrils sending a tiny shudder down my spine that wasn't quite fear.
His breath tickled the back of my ear. “Even your body knows when it’s time to give up. If you don’t want to do it for yourself, do it for your little dragon. Do you wish for him to suffer as well?”
Morphy glared up at me from the pile of blankets. My standing had disturbed his rest. My breath came out in a ragged gasp as my chest grew tighter. No, he didn’t deserve to die from my stubbornness. After all, everything with Nimue was my mess. I shouldn’t condemn my last friend to it.
I pulled away from the Fae, crossed my arms, and huddled back in the blanket. "Fine. At least I should know the name of my rescuer."
"Colin." He waved to the women across from us. “These two lovely ladies are Eryn and Gwen. The beautiful Leri is driving of course.”
Leri raised her hand in a two-finger salute.
“Charmed,” I mumbled.
His blue eyes held a mischievous sparkle. "May I have the name of my damsel in distress?"
“Aneira,” I said. “And I’m not a damsel.”
“But you are in distress.”
I glanced over at him from underneath my eyelashes. With those sculpted cheekbones, kissable lips, and toned body, it was no surprise the woman across from us, Eryn, was giving me stinky eyes. Was he the only child of Rhydian? He seemed to have inherited his father’s appetites. I licked my lips and shook my head. That’s right, to him our pleasure was his to feed upon. He probably left droves of comatose witches in his wake. He was Fae, after all.
My breath caught in my throat as the top of a building peeked over the horizon. The point, gleaming golden in the tepid sunlight, stood atop a giant dome made of a translucent crystal, which reflected a rainbow of colors. The dome tapered down to a round, six storied building sandwiched between two towers. The building grew as we drew close and I couldn’t help but gape at the monstrosity. Even the tan stone seemed to shimmer. Clearly, subtly wasn’t in this Fae’s vocabulary.
The sleigh angled around to the side of the palace to where a small garage stood next to it. A row of evergreens divided it from the palace. The sleigh slowed to a crawl as the door to the garage slid up and we glided inside. Leri killed the motor and climbed down. Before I could utter a word, Colin had stepped out of the sleigh and lifted me in his arms, blanket and all. My own surprised cry mingled with Morphy’s startled squawk as his claws dug through the fabric and into my arm.
I leveled a glare at Colin. “I can walk.”
He chuckled. “At this moment, I doubt you can.”
My head wobbled and flopped on his shoulder. Damn my body for betraying me. If the world wasn’t spinning so badly, I would have been out of his arms in seconds. Instead, I was forced to lay there as he carried me up the staircase and through several hallways that blurred together until he came to a room. The smell of lavender surrounded me as we entered. He laid me on the bed and brushed my hair from my face with a gentle hand.
“Mai will be here soon to tend to your wounds,” he said.
My chest seized up and a tickling in my throat became unbearable. I hunched over as a coughing fit overtook me. I was vaguely aware of Colin’s hands on my back, rubbing and patting until it passed. Afterwards, I lay in that p
osition, too spent to even move. Tiny droplets of blood from my cough dripped from my fingers and onto the blanket. The poison was getting worse.
“Thank you,” I said in a weak voice.
He leaned closer. “I don’t think I heard correctly?”
Did I really have to repeat it?
I gritted my teeth. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, little snowstorm. Though, I haven’t done anything for you yet.” He glanced back to a woman with brown hair woven at the nape of her neck who entered through the doorway. “I will leave you to Mai’s tender care.”
The fabric of the woman’s long green dress whispered as she marched past him to my bedside. Tiny wrinkles around her eyes and mouth tightened as she frowned down at me. She set a pitcher on the table beside the bed, and then pulled a small pouch from her belt.
She rested the back of her hand on my forehead and gave me a smile. “I doubt your name is really little snowstorm.”
“Aneira,” I said.
“Pleasure to meet you, Aneira. So, would you mind telling me what happened?”
“Cŵn Annwn. One bit me.”
Her finger brushed against my ear. “They howled too? How did you survive that?”
My gaze traveled to where Morphy had settled on the bed. “I had a little help.”
She lifted up one of my eye lids and peered down with a frown. “How many?”
“Six.”
She gave a soft whistle. “That’s quite a feat. Even the triplets would have had difficulty with that.”
“Triplets?”
“Yes, the women who brought you in with Colin. You could call them his bodyguards.”
“And playmates, most likely.” I lay my head back on the pillow as a wave of dizziness rushed over me.
“If you wish to call it that. They aren’t complaining.”
She turned back to the pitcher and pulled out several different herbs from her pouch. She sang a soft wordless melody as she mixed the herbs into the pitcher. My eyes fluttered close and my head began to drift as the warmth of the room and the rhythm of her song played over me.
No. I sat up with a gasp.
She gave a slight start, spilling some of the liquid from the glass in her hand. How long had I been out? Not long enough to dream, right?
“It’s all right, child,” She said. “Nothing can hurt you here.”
My laugh almost started another coughing fit. “Except for the Fae that own this place.”
Her frowned deepened. “Neither Rhydian nor Colin would ever force you. They’re not like the others.”
“They have you fooled so well. They’re all the same.”
A soft sigh escaped her lips as she held the glass out to me. “In any case, drink this. It will neutralize the poison. Do you need a straw?”
I took the glass from her and wrinkled my nose as the earthy smell that drifted up. Rhydian must have had a greenhouse in the palace to get the herbs. The Respites were always hard pressed for any fresh plants.
The bitterness hit my tongue on the first swallow. I scrunched my face up and gulped down the rest. Almost at once, the tightness in my chest lessened. I lay my head back and took my first deep breath in a while.
“Now, let’s see about that arm,” she said.
I hissed between my teeth as she tried to straighten my arm and a jolt of pain shot through it. The cold from outside had numbed it for the most part, but it was starting to feel again. The forearm had swelled to twice its size and blood dripped from the teeth marks the hound had left behind.
“It looks like a clean break.” Mai pulled out a small piece of bark. “Bite down on this. It’s going to hurt when I set it.”
“This isn’t the first bone I’ve broken.” I clamped down on the wood with my teeth.
Mai gave a small nod and pushed on my arm in a swift motion. My teeth ground into the wood and I closed my eyes. It was crazy, but I could almost feel the broken pieces of the bone scraping together as she set it in place.
“There,” she said. “Until the poison is neutralized, the best I can do is a tight wrap.”
I pushed the bark out from between my teeth. “What about using magic?”
“I’m worried the poison will counteract any spells I try on the bone or the wound. It will have to wait.”
Mai gathered her herbs back into her pouch. “Be sure to drink a glass every hour or so for the next day. You need to drink it all for the magic to be fully effective. Am I understood?”
I nodded, shrinking under her stern gaze. She smiled and patted my shoulder.
“Good,” she said. “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow.”
With that, she walked out the door. The sound of a lock echoed through the room. I was now wounded and a prisoner in a Fae’s palace.
4
The hours dragged by. At some point my arm had started throbbing again, setting my teeth on edge with each new wave. I paced, wearing down the plush red carpet, while Morphy watched from his curled-up position on the queen size bed.
"Why don’t you come and sit down?" He rolled over on his back and spread out his arms and legs. "This is the best bed I've ever been in."
I slid him a sideways glare. "Of course, it’s the best bed you've ever been in. It's owned by a Fae. And I'm not going to sit down because I'll probably fall asleep."
“You probably need it just to heal that wound," he said.
“That’s not happening here,” I said. “Not ever.”
Smoke curled up from his mouth as he gave a small sigh. "If you're not going to sleep. What are you planning to do?"
"What? Pacing isn't doing something?" I smirked at him.
He rolled his eyes. "Yeah. Something boring. And it looks like you are straining yourself.”
I winced as the twinge went through my arm. This walking wasn't really helping. In the last couple of hours, my shoulder had gone from a dull ache to a constant throb.
The soft cream bedspread that puffed up around Morphy’s small body beckoned me to slip under and rest my head on the pillow. Even the fire roaring in the white brick fireplace kept the room warm and comfortable. My eyelids drooped. I spun away to the window and stared out at the white expanse of the snow. If I relaxed, I’d fall asleep. Then I'd be open for any Fae to feed off of my dreams here. That was, if Nimue didn’t come for me.
My gaze landed on the pitcher sitting on the table. It was time for my last dose. I walked over and poured a glass and stared at it, biting my lower lip. If there had been any sedatives in it, I would have passed out long ago. However, this constant need to take the medicine had been a great incentive to stay awake.
There was always the maca root in my bag. It helped keep me awake and alert for long periods of time. With a nod, I took a deep breath and gulped down the contents of the glass, making a face at the bitterness that lingered. I slammed the glass back onto the table, then dug through my bag until I found the small root and stuffed it into my mouth. I smiled as the rich, nutty flavor overtook the lingering bitterness.
"Are you sure you should mix that with the medicine?" he asked. "What if you have a bad reaction?"
"Well, I'm sure my jailers would be quite upset but they probably have something that could help me," I said. "Even if they don’t, it's better than falling prey to them."
"If you're so worried why don't you cast a spell?"
"You know I'm horrible at the craft," I said.
It was true. I struggled to even call the corners. Simple spells were a feat even on my best days. Now when I was wounded and still suffering the effects of the poison, nothing would work for me.
"Except you cast that fire spell fighting the dogs," he said.
I pressed a finger to my lips. "We shouldn't talk about that here."
Not even the witches knew about my propensity to make rhymes into magic. Mother had always told me to keep it a secret. She'd also told me to keep the pendant on at all times. When I was just a child, we used to play the rhyming games just so she
could see what I could create. She claimed that there was a little bit of Fae blood in our family. Mother said the Fae and witches wouldn’t understand my uniqueness. A child from a Fae and a witch was all but unheard of. I was fine with hiding it. I wasn’t one of them. I was a witch, no matter how much of their blood ran through me.
The door swung open and Mai stepped inside carrying a tray full of food. She raised an eyebrow at my position in front of the fireplace.
"You didn't sleep at all, did you?" she asked.
"Why would I, when there are Fae waiting to eat my dreams once I fall asleep?" I shrugged.
"You really think Rhydian or Colin would feed off of you when you're wounded? You haven’t even met Rhydian yet." She set the tray down on the bedside table with a sigh. "I feel sorry for the life you've lived, that you can't trust anyone."
"Oh, there are people I trust. Just not any Fae."
"The Fae here aren’t like that. They never feed off the unwilling. I'm sure, once you're here long enough, you will come to see how well they treat their witches."
I wagged my finger at her. "Now that is the problem. You said their witches. We shouldn't have to belong to anyone, Fae are not."
"But that's how things are here." She tilted her head to one side and looked at me with her brow furrowed in confusion. "Ever since we came to their world, it's their rules. They didn't have to save us when the cataclysm happened and we lost earth."
"So, that gives them the right to treat us like cattle?" I asked.
"They need us to survive as much as we need them now that Earth is gone."
I sat down on the bed, crossing my arms. "That doesn't change the way they treat us. We are just second-class citizens to them."
She shrugged. “As I said, their world, their rules.”
I studied her with narrowed eyes. "How can you accept this? To just be food for the Fae?"
She waved her hand towards the window. “It's better than living out there, in the cold and starving. Even the witch Respites don't have anything like this. They can barely keep the cold out with their spells.”
