He shrugged. “However you can. Magic. Skill. Words. Trick them or overpower them.”
I started feeling queasy. “I can’t overpower one of the Folk.”
“You never know,” he repeated brightly. “It’s fun, honestly. Meant to be taken lightly. The Carlin just wants you to feel at home. Get involved in our traditions.”
Stomach jittery with nerves, I asked, “How are people paired up?”
“Random. Don’t worry, it’s not rigged in any way.”
Oh god. What if I was paired up with the death fae in the wide-brimmed hat? Or one of the fox fae who looked sneaky and had been playing with cogged dice at the party? No way would they play fair.
My gut clenched into a tight knot.
What if Lonan took part, and I was paired with him?
“Is… Will the prince be playing?” I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.
“Unfortunately,” Caom said grimly. “Like always, he’ll be the Carlin’s eyes and ears. Watching to make sure you take part. That you enjoy yourself.”
I almost snorted as that. As if she could force me to enjoy myself with the threat of her murderous son. I wondered what Lonan had told her after he’d gotten back to the palace last night. Whether he’d recounted the entire heated conversation, or just repeated my sarcastic words about having alovely eveningto appease her.
I supposed I’d find out soon.
Caom led me away from the village, towards a copse of birch trees surrounded by wide fields of long grass and tiny purple flowers. I could already see a group of Folk gathered. My gaze darted over them all quickly, trying to spot Lonan. I wasn’t sure if I was relieved or disappointed that he wasn’t there.
“Ah, the halfling has arrived,” a fae with pale green skin taunted as we approached.
He had deep brown horns jutting in a circle around his head like a crown, and his nose was big and pointed. Thin, cruel lips tipped up into a smirk as he stared at me with solid brown eyes, long spindly fingers twirling in the air. White smoke curled in tiny tendrils from his palm before getting sucked back in.
“Are you excited, halfling?” he asked, and I wanted to snap at him not to call me that. “What an honour. A game of favours just for you.”
His tone was sneering. I bit the inside of my cheek to stop from snapping that I didn’taskfor this, and didn’t even want to do it.
“No need to be a prick, Delin.” Caom stepped closer to me, as if in solidarity. “Ash is willing to play.”
Idony was here, I realised. She was scowling at nothing. And Belial was too. He tore his gaze away from Caom for just a second to give me a nod.
Delin sneered and started to say something, but fell silent and straightened quickly. I knew why before he even spoke.
“Prince Lonan.” His tone was ingratiating now, almost snivelling. “So pleased you are joining us.”
“Begin.”
I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. He was such a brat. A bratty fae prince who was far too used to getting his own way with no argument. He’d probably been itching to pull his blade free and slit my throat when I’d argued back last night. When I hadn’t just meekly agreed with him, promising to do better atshedding my mortal skin.
Delin cleared his throat. “Of course.”
He twisted his fingers again, and the white smoke shaped itself into a narrow strip that the fae somehow managed to pinch between two spindly fingers.
“Caom,” he said, then the smoke vanished before reappearing, and he peered down at the new narrow strip that was somehow solid and incorporeal all at once. “With Idony.”
Caom shot me a rueful smile before walking over to Idony’s side. She nudged him and whispered something in his ear.
“Belial,” Delin was saying, and I glanced at the blue-skinned fae to see him reluctantly tearing his gaze away from Caom again, his expression disappointed. He’d probably wanted to be paired up with him.
He was paired with the gangly, twig-like man with swivelling eyes who I’d seen at the party, and they nodded at each other politely as they moved to stand together.
Delin carried on pulling names from thin air, pairing the waiting Folk off. When he cleared his throat and announced Prince Lonan, my stomach clenched up with fearful anticipation.