Page 5 of Of Mist and Shadow

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But he merely shook his head. “No, Tessa. You’re free to go. Run home to your little human family.”

I flicked my eyes to the pouch by his side. I would not be making my midnight rendezvous tonight, but at least I was still alive.

With a deep breath, I walked backward to the trees, keeping my toes pointed in the direction of the king, unable to tear my eyes away from him in case he planned to loose an arrow into my skull the second I glanced away.

When I made it to the forest safely, I twisted on my feet and dove into the carpet of bluebells. I didn’t dare glance behind me to see if he followed. Heart in my throat, I ran. The sunlight slanted through the dense canopy, highlighting the beaten path ahead.

And so I raced home with the sting of fire on my heels.

Three

Tessa

The tiny village of Teine hunkered in the shadow of the glittering fae city up the hill. Where their distant buildings had been forged by their impossible powers, ours were built from the weathered timber of the forest. The logs were stacked on top of each other, stuffed with old, dried grass, but still full of cracks. On the rare days a rain shower fell from the sky, the wooden floors turned into rivers of mud. We had a system in place for that, of course. When it rained, we packed up all our things and moved them to the upper floor. Every human in Teine had two floors, even the poorest of us.

I padded down the path that led from the forest and into the village proper, casting my eyes around for any sign of fae soldiers waiting to attack. King Oberon had let me go, but I hadn’t been born yesterday. The punishment would come. There was no doubt in my mind about that. My only question was…when?

“Tessa!” Nellie shouted from the front steps of our house where she clutched the green handle of a broom. The building’s walls had been painted a deep blue, faded by time. On the ground floor, windows peered into a family room with an open hearth and tattered chairs that creaked when you moved. The upper floor was all wood, stretching the entire way around. We slept up there. It was the only place in the house where we could block out the incessant light.

My sister dropped the broom and charged toward me, her arms open wide, her brown hair trailing behind her like ribbons. She slammed into me. The scent of apple filled my head, her very favorite thing to eat. She was down in the orchard every day, munching on whatever fell to the ground before the harvesters could collect it from the tree.

The fae did not demean themselves by eating the apples from the ground.

“You’re okay,” she breathed into my hair.

I pasted on a smile that wasn’t true. “Of course I am.”

She pulled back and searched my eyes. “But the king.”

“Decided to let me go.”

A strained whistle escaped between her clenched teeth. “Without punishment?”

Nellie, just like all the humans in Teine, knew all about the fae king’s punishments. We were warned about them as soon as we were old enough to understand. Tales were probably even whispered to us when we were in the womb. Obey the fae. Never defy them. Follow the rules, and you’ll thrive.

Then we were forced to see the king’s cruelty in all its horrific glory.

“Tessa,” she whispered before glancing over her shoulder at the open door behind her. My mother was nowhere to be seen. Probably still toiling in the fields. The day was not done just yet. “He never lets anyone go.”

“I’m aware.” Sighing, I slung an arm around her shoulder and steered her back to the house. She paused to collect the broom from where she’d dropped it, and then she leaned it against the house, green handle against the faded blue wall. Inside, Val was waiting for us, and by the mugs on the table next to her and the fuzziness in her eyes, I could tell she was already two drinks in.

She blinked up at me, winding her hand around the golden chain she wore. Another sign she was drunk. That necklace had belonged to her mother, and she couldn’t let go of it when she’d had a few too many pints. Her parents, along with my father and uncle, had been victims of Oberon’s wrath.

“Tessa?” she whispered.

“Val, you couldn’t have gotten here even half an hour before me. How are you already drunk?” I grabbed a mug for myself and filled it from the keg tucked into the corner of the kitchen.

“I thought you were dead. I thought he’d killed someone else I love. I’m so sorry I ran,” she whispered. She rubbed her eyes, sniffling. “Is this a dream? Am I dead, too?”

“For the love of light.” I took a swig of my ale and raised my brows, looking to Nellie. “How much has she had?”

“Can’t be sure.” Nellie shrugged. “Several, at least, and she chugged them all within seconds. Might want to get her a bucket. Last time she did this, she got sick all over our floor. Mother’s face when she saw…”

Mother had always been the perfect picture of a loyal, subservient human. Never once did she complain or gossip about the royal fae. Her dresses were pressed and crisp. Not a single hair on her golden head strayed from its perfect place. But when she’d seen Val’s drunken state all over her polished floor…she’d let loose a horrified screech that had echoed through the entire village.

I took another swig and grabbed a bucket from the closet under the stairs. Then I plopped it before Val, who had begun to sway back and forth on her stool. “What did the king do to you, Tessa?”

“Nothing,” Nellie answered for me, her voice thick with dread. “He did nothing, Val.”


Tags: Jenna Wolfhart Fantasy