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Chapter5

Ember

Ican’t help myself. I snort, completely unable to hide the humor at my imagination. Faerie? Seriously? How sick am I right now? Or, a better explanation, maybe I hit my head on the edge of the toilet during one of my heaves and am currently passed out on the floor. Still, I feel like my imagination could have come up with a better name than Tar-anus.

I snort again, earning a glare from the guard.

Brow furrowed, the “king” watches me with the intensity of a hawk. “Why are you amused?”

For one, your name ends with anus.“You just told me that you’re the King of Faerie. And since you’re standing in front of me, that means you want me to believe that I am in Faerie. As in, the mythical land from old fairy tales and Celtic mythology.” I shake my head. “I must have really hit my head when I fell.”

Taranus turns away from me to glance back at the woman. She nods, smiling softly before crossing the floor toward us. Her white gown brushes against the floor, making it appear as though she simply glides over the marble.

“The woman has suffered from the elements,” she says, softly. “There’s no telling how long she was outdoors. Perhaps she could use a meal and a soft bed to rest in.”

Taranus’s expression softens. “Yes, we will see that you are fed, bathed, and well-rested. Come.” He turns to the guard. “Conary, see to it that our guest has fresh clothing, and have a bath drawn for her.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He bows his head and disappears right in front of my eyes.

“What the—where did he go?”

At my obvious surprise, Taranus chuckles. “He will see to it that you have fresh linen and a warm bath. Come, my dear, we have much to discuss.” He tucks my arm through his and guides me back down the corridor as the woman follows behind us, gliding soundlessly across the floor.

“Okay, but where did he go? How did he vanish like that?”

The “king” evades my question. “You are not from here, are you?”

I snort. “Understatement of the year.”

“Excuse me?”

Clearing my throat, I nod. At this point, I’m just curious how much more my imagination can come up with. Maybe I should switch from ghostwriter for hire to full-time novelist. “No, I’m not from here.”

“My advisor tells me that you are human.”

How handy that she would just know that.Cheap writing, imagination, cheap writing. “That is correct.”

“Where do you come from? I’ve never visited, but I’m fascinated with the worlds beyond this realm.”

I bet you are.“I’m originally from Austin, Texas. It’s in the United States.” I humor him, studying my surroundings as we move through the castle. “But I recently took a trip to Ireland.”

“Ireland. I’ve heard of that place. It is the closest gateway to ours.”

Yet another cheap writing job.“It must be since that’s where I was before I ended up here.”

“And how did you find yourself here, I wonder?”

“Apparently, it’s my punishment for taking a midnight stroll.”

“Punishment. You believe this place to be a punishment for your indiscretions?”

“And why wouldn’t she after the way she was treated upon arrival?” The woman’s soft voice carries toward us with authority and power.

“Yeah. Conary—or whatever his name is—was a real asshole.”

The king stops walking, gaping at me with complete surprise. Eyes wide, mouth slack, it’s almost amusing. And when he throws his head back and laughs, the velvety sound puts me even further on edge. “Asshole. I truly enjoy that word. Come, let me show you to your room.” He takes my hand and guides me up the stairs.

The other reason I’m pretty damn positive this is a dream? My body doesn’t hurt. Well, not in the way I’m used to. Where the bastard kicked me still stings. But that’s not all. For the first time in half a decade, my temperature feels regulated—though I won’t know that for sure without a thermometer—and my stomach is actually growling with the force of my hunger.


Tags: Jessica Wayne Fae War Chronicles Fantasy