Page 15 of Curse the Fae

Awe and trepidation overtake me, so that my tongue flops about in my mouth. “I beg your pardon. It’s just you’re so vivid, though there’s very little light down here, and I wasn’t expecting nature to have a voice. Or rather, I was but not like this. That isn’t to say I doubt what you are. No grottos in my world have your coloring, or if they do, they’re located elsewhere in The Dark Fables. Matter of fact, I probably shouldn’t have addressed you asyousince you’re not a physical being, and—”

“Come closer, into the light.”

“Which light?”

“Whichever one you consider to be light.”

All right, so we’re doing this. I consider the ceiling orbs and wonder if my own irises have blended in with all this teal, and if I’ll become part of the illumination. I settle myself within the spot where the watery sheen and vibrant beams converge.

The grotto appraises my presence. “Hmm,” shivers across the water and floats audibly into the atmosphere.

Is that good or bad?

“Here you are,” the words fluctuate over the grotto. “One-third of the sisters called upon to play with the Faeries.”

Because the guard had said I can’t ask questions, I reshape my inquiry into a statement. “I was told you’ve existed for centuries.”

“I’m chronology itself. I’m The Deep’s history.”

“I was told that, too.”

“Yet you haven’t been made privy to the particulars. Likewise, you haven’t been told one necessary thing, which I have decided upon, and which you must know.”

The water falls silent, even while words scrawl across its surface. Sentences wobble and unspool, the lambent strands appearing and dissolving from one set to the next, like liquid calligraphy. Thus, the grotto informs me why I’m here.

It anthologizes The Trapping and how the attack had yielded too many lost animals, and how the creatures’ extermination by mortals is leading to the wild’s imminent demise, and how the existence of its fauna, flora, and Faeries are in danger of fading as a result, since they can’t exist without one another.

Rapt and horrified, I lean nearer. My eyes cling to the water as it delivers my fate with vibrant, fluid strokes. To save the wild from extinction, human sacrifices must be made, not simply by spilling blood or flinging humans over a cliff. Rather, the sacrifices must be executed through games. For every mortal player that loses, one of the lost fauna will be revived in exchange, hence contributing to the land’s restoration…its survival.

I feel my complexion turn ashen. Due to the notes my sisters and I had received, I’d known there would be a game for each of us, but now the brutal gist comes to fruition. My presence isn’t merely intended for amusement or punishment for trespassing. It’s meant for something more crucial.

The Faeries have until the thirteenth year to complete the sacrifices and bring life back to this world. Otherwise, the mountain, forest, and deep will perish. Since it’s been nine years since The Trapping, the gradual decimation has already started, and while four more years may seem long, it’s scarcely any time for immortals trying to save their world.

My stomach heaves, disgust clashing with a streak of sympathy. While I refuse to condemn my village for defending itself, nor do I spurn the Folk’s desire to safeguard their existence. I can’t muster a proper response other than, “I didn’t know.”

As additional words scroll across the grotto, its faint whisper resumes. “Were you supposed to?”

My lips twitch with something close to a lie. “I didn’t engage in The Trapping.”

“I never said you did. Granted, while I know The Deep’s timeline as it happens, what occurs elsewhere is out of bounds for me. Though naturally, you’re innocent. What child would take part in such a massacre?”

I swallow my guilt. “The Fables say nothing of the wild’s fatal vulnerabilities, but I’m sure those narratives don’t cover everything, which means my people have little to go by in the grand scheme of things, and I’m guessing that’s how you want it. I mean, Iimaginethat’s how you want it, which wouldn’t be out of the ordinary, unless I’m mistaken.”

The water goes smooth for a moment before fluttering, “You talk a great deal.”

“Not on purpose. My family says I can be dramatic and antsy, so whenever that happens, my mouth gets cluttered.”

“Quite,” the grotto agrees. “Your tone has a soft transparency to it. As do the tempo of your pulse, the temperature in your cheeks, and the brightness of your eyes. Such a vivid teal, such a saturated blush, such an earnest heartbeat, and such a rambling mind could either work to your benefit or get you into trouble with the river ruler. It depends on whether you apply defiance or kindness to these facets. Both are your strengths, though one is greater than the other. It’s up to you to fathom which. Let this be my first piece of advice.”

“What will this advice cost?” I question, rather ungratefully. Not that I’ll apologize. The Fables tell mortals to be wary of favors freely given here, since they’re never truly free.

The grotto emanates a dignified sort of sheen. “Cost,” it spells out. “Nonsense. I don’t dabble in bargains. To that end, few water Faeries do. That is left to the lofty mountain residents and spritely woodland Folk, whereas river dwellers strike without ceremony. Consider this my second piece of advice. It’s what I’ve decided you must know.”

I frown. That’s two bits of customized knowledge, not one. But maybe tidbits are counted differently in Faerie. Or maybe this is deception.

Although I have an aversion to confrontation, I must be hitting my threshold for civility. After a battle with sharks and being nearly strangled by an odious water lord, I find myself growing angrier and bolder by the second.

I cross my arms. “Forgive me if I don’t trust the advice of a hole in the ground.”

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