I had never seen such a delicious-looking meal.

  There were roasted, braised, and charred meats; a gilded bowl full of dew-fresh fruits in all the shades of a sunset; steaming bronze bread that smelled like heaven; cheese the color of a rising sun; glittering amber wine in a crystal glass.

  All of it set upon a table that gleamed like moonlight. There were silver-backed chairs spaced around, but thankfully he was the room’s only occupant. He was sitting with a book propped open beside a gilded plate of half-eaten food.

  It was a new room. One I hadn’t seen before. I spent an awestruck moment taking in the vivid tapestries, thick violet curtains, and glittering chandelier before rushing past it all.

  “I need a weapon!” I burst out as soon as I was within arms’ reach.

  He seemed to be chewing a mouthful of bread. His glare spoke volumes.

  I tried not to wince. “Please, I mean. Look, I’m… you told me to run. Save myself. Well, I didn’t. And now I need something that can kill a Fae, or… or you’ll never see the shard.”

  His eyes narrowed.

  I licked my lips. This had gone much better in my head. “It’s… I’ve h-hidden it away. No one will ever find it. So if I… if I get devoured or torn apart, you’ll never know where to-”

  He took another bite. Then he very pointedly looked away from me and resumed reading.

  I stared down, pulse pounding. “Didn’t you hear me? If you don’t help-”

  “I heard you.” He turned a page.

  “Well… don’t you care?”

  He paused and cocked an eyebrow up at me. “It’s not a matter of caring. Tools to kill Fae are rare. Precious. If it’s a lesser creature, some witchwood should suffice. Go find a tree.

  “I found a tree,” I muttered, twisting at my borrowed cloak. The fabric was warm but coarse and itchy. “It’s been torn apart. I don’t think it’ll be of any use.”

  He slowly pushed his plate away and leaned back, brows furrowed.

  “Hm. It’s something more formidable, then. I have no aid to offer.” He gestured towards a nearby chair. “So we can be done with the extortion attempt. Sit.”

  I remained standing, blood thrumming through my ears. My nails dug into my palms. “No aid that you can offer, or no aid that you're willing to offer?”

  His eyes flashed as he took a sip of wine. “Careful, Brin.”

  I gave an exhausted, slightly manic laugh. “Careful? It’s a little late for that, isn’t it?” I didn’t give him a chance to answer and began pacing. “Let’s see… this morning I nearly killed myself and two other people, had a fight with Renner, narrowly avoiding him kidnapping me, broke into a house, found a trail of dead plants, ran into a creepy woods, and now I’m unconscious beside a murdered witchwood tree trying to ask a Fae villain who I still think wants to kill me for help!” I stopped and rounded on him. “I don’t have time to be careful! I need help, now.”

  There was no trace of bemusement on his features. They were all carved lines and perfect, frozen malice. He rose slowly and hissed, “So you come here, expecting my aid. I’ve certainly given it before. And in return you’ve given me nothing.” His eyes narrowed to slits. “That is not the nature of our bargain. I’ve been patient with you, exceedingly so, but my patience is at its end. It’s time for you to provide answers.”

  I took a step back, trying not to tremble in the face of such obvious hostility.

  What changed? Our time earlier, in his garden… it was nice. Pleasant. Why is he so angry?

  My breath came in slow, steadying gasps. I sank into one of the ornate chairs and offered tentatively, “W-well… what do you want to know? I’ll answer, but, please, give me something in return. A weapon, advice, anything.”

  “You’re in no position to bargain.”

  I choked out a laugh and buried my face in my hands. “I’m probably going to die later today. I’m not really in any kind of position.”

  He stood unmoving for a long while, utterly silent.

  After a while the quiet started to become unbearable and I peered up. His eyes were that depthless, fathomless black again, too focused and too breathtaking.

  And still glinting with malice.

  “Who is helping you?” he breathed. He searched my face hungrily.

  “What?”

  “Perhaps you haven’t been given a name. That’s no surprise. But tell me what they look like.”

  I blinked again. “What? Renner? He left this morning, and helping is a pretty generous-”

  His face darkened. “What Fae is helping you?”

  I shook my head, baffled. The statement reminded me of our very first encounter, when he’d seemed to think I’d already made a pact with one of his kind.

  I blew a sigh. “Well, not you, clearly.”

  He did not seem amused.

  I edged back in the chair, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. “Look, I’ve only ever made a bargain with you. There’s no other Fae helping me.”

  “Liar.” His voice was not velvet. It was the razor tip of a steel blade.

  Heat bolted up my throat. “I’m not lying! Why would I? And why would one of your kind help me?”

  He began pacing. Silk rustled, but beside that the large room was nearly silent for a long while. When he finally spoke his voice was low and hurried; as if he was speaking more to himself than to me.

  “I suspected it during our first encounter. When you withdrew from me. And then you had the gall to claim you’d never met a Fae.”

  “Claim? It was the truth!”

  He stopped walking abruptly and turned glare down at me. His lip curled. “Brin. I’m not a fool.”

  My own scowl deepened. “I didn’t say you were. But I also didn’t lie to you.”

  “Oh? So you resisted me of your own power, then?” He scoffed, looking me up and down.

  Withdrew, resisted… It took me a moment to parcel out his meaning.

  But only a moment. The memory of falling endlessly into those beautiful eyes, of the heady scent and gentle dark of him all around me like smoke and silk…

  And then pulling away. Waking, as if from a dream.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “Maybe you’re not as powerful as you think you are.”

  He glowered.

  My nerve didn’t quite fail so I added curtly, “My lord.”

  His eyes glinted, and for a moment I wondered if I’d gone too far.

  I’m playing with fire. My life is only of so much value, here, and if I grow too bold…

  But it was amusement that twisted his lips, not anger. I let out a breath.

  “Mm. And I suppose it was mere chance that someone tried to rip you away after your ill-conceived attempt on my life?”

  “Chance that… someone… what?”

  He took a step closer, practically looming over me. “Don’t be coy, Brin. It’s only charming for so long.”

  My face grew warm. I ground my teeth together. “I’m not being coy! I’m… look, I said I’d give you answers, and I’m trying to. But I genuinely don’t understand what you’re saying.”

  His eyes searched my face hungrily. “You’re such an earnest thing. I could almost believe you.”

  I stood and threw my hands up. “Almost? Okay, well, whenever you get past almost, let me know!”

  He was silent.

  I huffed. “What’s the point of asking me questions when you don’t even believe I’m telling the truth?”

  Which was my exact problem earlier. It’ll be my problem again when I wake up and speak to people in town. Wondering if everyone’s lying, even though it’s entirely likely that they’re just confused…

  It’s exhausting. Maddening.

  He grimaced. “I’ve been asking myself that very thing. Truth be told, I underestimated you.”

  “You… did?”

  “I thought you were nothing more than a frightened mortal desperate to save her friend.”

  “That… no, that was correct. You correctly, um, estimated me.”

  “Mm. I disagree. You see, at first I assumed your apparent state of distress was responsible for your fortitude. I dismissed it. That was a mistake.”

  “My fortitude?” Did he mean that hazy, dreamlike sensation- and then how I had pulled away? I remembered the moment all too well, and the sharp agony in my hands. “In case you didn’t notice, my hands were full of glass! I was hurting. That’s what snapped me out of it.”

  “A reasonable explanation. I considered that, as well. And it led to hubris, on my part. When you offered to answer my questions, I didn’t think for a moment you’d be bold enough to lie. Not well, at least.”

  I frowned. “But I haven’t lied. I’ve thought about it, but… well, truth be told, you haven’t been interrogating me on anything worth lying about. Mostly you’ve been… asking me what I know about this realm. And asking me what I’m doing.”

  “Well, you keep doing strange things.” His eyes glittered, and for a moment the ghost of a smile graced his lips. “But as for your honesty… do you really expect me to believe that there’s no one aiding you? And powerful, I’d wager, since they very nearly tore you away.”

  “You said that before. I still don’t understand what you mean.”

  “I mean, Brin, that immediately after you stabbed me, another Fae tried to pull you back to the mortal realm.” He watched me intently, doubtlessly waiting for my reaction to give something away.

  All he got was another baffled shake of my head. “What, when everything went sideways? The… the world spinning? I assumed that was you.”

  “It wasn’t.”

  “Well… I don’t know what to tell you. I’ve met exactly six Fae, and you’re the only one I’ve had any kind of… dealings with. All the others tried to kill me. Or didn’t care that I existed. Or were… too polite to eat me.” I felt the blood drain from my face and turned away as Horace’s wry chuckle slithered through my mind.

  It’s considered, ah, poor taste among our kind to hunt another’s prey.

  I swayed forwards, palms going flat against the cold tabletop. Gods, I’d almost forgotten…

  No. No, don’t think about that. Not now. Focus on getting him to talk. Getting him to help.

  Give him something. Make him trust you.

  I dragged my tongue across my lower lip and turned back, shoulders squared.

  “I think you’re mistaken. If that was someone or something trying to help me, then… I believe it was one of the gods.”

  He didn’t bat an eyelash. “One of the gods.”

  I lifted my chin. “Y-yes. I’m… a runekeeper.” I waited with baited breath, wondering what his reaction would be. Half afraid that it would spell my doom; if he was seeking out things that could kill his kind, and presumably there were blessed individuals capable of doing so… was I suddenly going to be a threat? Would my value no longer hold its weight?

  He looked unimpressed.

  Maybe he isn’t familiar with the term. I took a deep breath. “It’s someone who’s been blessed. Gifted with divine magic from the fallen-”

  Something flickered deep within his eyes. For a moment, I almost thought it was pity. “I’m aware of what a runekeeper is, Brin.”

  I closed my mouth, brow furrowing. This was not the reaction I’d expected. “Well… that’s what I am. And I bet that’s got something do to with… with whatever all that was. And, do you know… that happened twice. That feeling, like everything was spinning and I was being pulled… it happened in the cave.”

  He tilted his head to one side. “The cave?”

  “Yes,” I said, nearly breathless with sudden excitement. It felt like the pieces of a puzzle were falling into place, and creating a most spectacular image. “Yes, the night I ran into the mist and saw Vessa and Forthys… First I was asleep, and I was here. In your garden. Well, mostly. I crawled into the woods, and then I found your house, and then… it was like something yanked me out of this realm. Was it because I was in danger? Maybe it’s some… some remnant of divine power? Not something in me or about me, of course, I’m no one; but something trying to help me. Trying to protect me.”

  The fallen gods. Fallen, but unyielding. Vigilant.

  The Grace that flowed unending. The sun that rose every morning in a blaze of guarding light.

  The silver trees that knew me.

  My heart pounded. Sometime during my tirade I had begun pacing, fingers wringing together with every eager thought.

  I stopped and looked up at him. My eyes felt bright. Clear.

  “Don’t you see? That’s what it was! Some… some echo of their power, trying to bring me home. And I bet that’s why the runes… why they’re just there, sometimes! Just behind my eyes! Why I think of them when I don’t even know what they do, but somehow it’s always right. They call up water when I’m tending to plants, or fire when I’m in danger. It’s because there’s… there’s… intent behind them!”

  My smile was so wide it hurt.

  And still he remained silent. Looking at me with something that still inexplicably resembled pity. I blinked, and the expression disappeared.

  His face became neutral again. Frozen.

  Well, I suppose hearing about how the deities who sacrificed themselves to kill monsters like him is unpleasant. Especially if they can do more than just influence the mortal realm.

  His silence muffled my enthusiasm. Not in full, but enough for me to let my chin fall a bit.

  “Look… I haven’t dealt with a Fae. I suppose I don’t have any proof, other than my word. And, I don’t know, aren’t you supposed to be able to see it, or smell it, or… er, something like that?”

  His lip curled and his gaze sharpened, becoming too intense again. I shifted from foot to foot. He still didn’t answer.

  I heaved a sigh and scrubbed at my face. “Okay, so… where does this leave us? You’re angry and convinced I’m lying and just going to… not help me? At all?”

  Silence.

  Traitorous heat pricked at my eyes. I felt my throat constrict. “Great. So all of this was for nothing. I’m a fool and I’ve wasted time and I’ve probably hurt myself because I dared to believe for a moment that maybe you were telling the truth this whole time! That maybe you’re actually good and benevolent and all the salt, but everything’s just been you trying to manipulate-”

  “Brin.” His voice was soft. Velvet and rose petals again.

  “What?!” I slammed a palm down onto the table. Silverware rattled. “Gods, I’m such a fool! And I… I need to go back. Teela needs me. Who knows what’s happening while I’m here trying to… Gods! Wake up, wake up-!” I started clawing at my arms. My nails left red, angry streaks, but of course it did nothing to jolt me out of this nightmare.

  I’m a fool. I’m such a fool. And Teela, oh, Teela, I’ve wasted time and she doesn’t have time-

  My wrists were seized. He held them between us with a grip like cold steel.

  “Stop. You’ll wake in your own time.”

  I tried to tear free. “That’s not good enough!” There were hot tears streaming down my cheeks again. “Don’t you understand? No one else is looking for her! Whatever this monster is, it’s going to… gods, it’s probably already…”

  My attempts to pull away achieved nothing. He held tight, looking down at me with too much intensity again.

  “It sounds like a hag,” he said, frowning.

  I stopped struggling and blinked up at him. “W-what? A hag?”

  “It seems likely, given what you said about the ravaged tree and rotted plants.”

  My heartbeat began to steady as the frenzied panic gave way to desperate need for clarity and the sudden, fierce hope that he was going to help. “Okay. Okay, what does that mean?”

  “It means your friend is likely alive, though whether she wishes to be is an entirely different matter.”

  The blood drained from my face. “Gil said it was going to eat her.”

  “This ‘Gil’ was likely correct. But hags are not powerful enough creatures to prey on a whim, and they need flesh for sustenance, not indulgence. She’ll likely take her time, and take care to keep your friend alive.” His teeth flashed. “Fresh.”

  I felt nauseous. My shoulders sagged.

  Seemingly satisfied that I was done trying to claw my skin off, he released me and stepped back.

  I wiped at my eyes. “Does… does this mean you’re going to help me?” I held my breath.

  He grimaced. “I’d rather you not die until I’ve had more questions answered.”

  “I’d rather not die at all.”

  “Then abandon your-”

  “No.”

  He actually chuckled. I felt warm relief flood through my veins. All the malice had melted from his demeanor.

  Part of me wondered if the change was genuine.

  He did not seem like a man whose opinions were so easily swayed; more like one who used anger and malice as tools. And then very deliberately set them aside, when gentle charm would succeed in their stead.

  Something deep in my chest went cold.

  No. Question his motives later. Be afraid later.

  I drew a steadying breath. “Can you… the witchwood won’t be enough. If you give me a weapon, I’ll return it, I swear.”

  “This is a home built for luxury Brin. A place where I am the only weapon needed.”

  My stomach clenched. “So you don’t have anything? There’s nothing you can do to help me?”

  He spent a long time studying my face. “If what you claim about being a runekeeper,” he spat the word with such venom that I recoiled, “Is true… defend yourself with that.”

  My throat went tight and my hands trembled. “I can t-try,” I whispered, swiping at my eyes, “B-but it doesn’t always… the m-magic hurts and s-sometime I-”

  “Then tell her, first. Hags are cowards. Warn her of your magic. Threaten.” His voice was a drawn blade.

  I stared up. Blood roared in my ears.

  He leaned closer, one hand sliding towards my collar. I froze and a shiver ran down my spine as his fingers threaded into my hair. Twisted through hopelessly tangled locks.

  “And if that doesn’t work…” he smiled, and his voice was all around me again. Silk and smoke and the petals of a black rose. “Then tell her you belong to a High Fae. One who takes vengeance in blood.”