Page 4 of Of Mist and Shadow

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An insult, one of the fae’s favorites. To them, being human was a fate worse than death. Even the common fae, the ones without extra magic like the elites, looked down on us. We were like ants beneath their boots. Mortal objects whose sole purpose was to do their bidding. And the king himself had just caught me blatantly disobeying him. This was not going to end well.

At least Nellie and Val had gotten away. I’d take the brunt of the king’s anger if it meant they’d be safe.

His soft, smooth hands wrapped around my arms. He shook me so hard my teeth rattled. “Who are you to defy me? What’s your surname?”

I winced and tried to pull away, but his grip was too strong.

“Answer me,” he demanded, shaking me again. “And do not lie. I’ll know if you do.”

Raw terror burned through me. The rage in his eyes was unlike any I’d ever seen. Power hummed in his hands where his skin met mine. A power that seeped into my bones and scraped at my soul. I tried not to shudder, but I couldn’t stop it. And what was worse, my trembling made him smile.

“Baran,” I whispered.

“Baran?” His eyes went wide, and a cruel smile curved his lips. “Of course. It’syou. Your father was a rebellious little insect, too.”

I forced down the tears that threatened to fill my eyes. He knew who I was—the daughter of a traitor. King Oberon would never let me go now.

He released his grip on me and took a step back, sizing me up like cattle before the slaughter. What did he see? I couldn’t help but wonder. A weak, little thing, shuddering before his gaze? Or did he see what I wanted to show the world? Strength, ferocity. Defiance.

Probably not. All he’d had to do was shake me, and I’d cowered like a mouse.

“Those gemstones are mine. You are forbidden from touching them.” He snatched the bag tied around my shoulder, and the cord snapped like it’d been made of the mist itself. Glittering jewels scattered across the ground. Face screwed up, he knelt to gather them.

My lungs shuddered as I watched him. His gaze was focused on the ground. This was my chance to flee, not that it would do me any good. I couldn’t hide from the fae king, not in Teine. Our little village flourished, but it was compact. Four hundred of us, all packed into the unremarkable buildings on the other side of the forest. He would know exactly where to look if he wanted to find me.

Still, I toed the ground behind me and cast my gaze toward the looming oak trees. Perhaps I could hide in there for a while. Val and Nellie would bring me food, and I could hunt. I’d learned how to—

“Do not be so foolish as to run from me after you’ve already tried to steal.” His voice chilled me to the bone. “TessaBaran.”

Swallowing hard, I faced him once again. He stood before me now, the gemstones tucked into the stolen pouch once more. He pocketed them in his golden tunic and smiled that cruel smile. “You should know you have little hope of escaping me, not unless you wish to cross the Bridge to Death. And you know you’d never survive in the mists.”

My heart pounded. I knew better than most. The image of my father’s head on a spike haunted my dreams, even to this day. The mists had not killed him, but they had come close. And then Oberon had done the rest.

I fisted my hands. “You’re right. It’s useless to run. You’d stop me. Because you fae could never survive without your servants doing everything for you.”

Anger flashed in his eyes. He strode forward with a predatory grace. I braced myself, expecting him to slam his fist into my jaw. “Every now and then, that village produces a little human just like you. One who thinks she’s better than those who came before, than those who worship us. Spirited, some like to say. And do you know what I do with that spirit?”

I closed my eyes. I knew.

“I take it. I crush it. And then I smash it into a bloody pulp.”

With a shaky voice, I asked, “So, what will it be then?”

“It?”

“My punishment.”

The fae protected us mortals, but they did not hold back if provoked. Only a few idiots were brave, or stupid, enough to do what I’d done and rebel. Some were beaten. Some were put in stocks. Some were flayed, their twisted bodies strung up for the rest of the Kingdom of Light to see. The stench of death carried on the wind, drenching the village in it. It was an example. A warning. Stay in line or else.

“Ah.” The fae king smiled. “I will set you free.”

For a moment, all I could do was stare into the ember eyes of my captor. His words made little sense. Set me free? I’d stolen from him. I’d talked back. I’d defied him when no one else dared even narrow their eyes in his direction. He’d punished humans for far less than that.

And I was a Baran.

“This is some kind of trick, isn’t it?” I couldn’t help but ask. More defiance. We humans were not supposed to question the king, but I could not stop myself. This made little sense. “You’re going to let me go and then hunt me down in the forest.”

Another form of torture.


Tags: Jenna Wolfhart Fantasy