Page 22 of Curse the Fae

Dark magic. Sinful magic.

I lick my lips, the movement consuming his attention, as if he’d heard the swipe of my tongue. “If you remembered me all this time, why didn’t you ever force me into this world earlier and take your revenge? Why wait?”

To his credit, Elixir looks appalled. “You were a stripling. The Fae do not harm mortal children. By the time you were old enough, you trespassed into our wild on your own, all before I could act on my grudges. In that way, you made it easy for me.”

“Please. If you won’t spare me, then spare my sisters. I’ll endure their punishment. I’ll gladly pay their price. Only release them. For pity’s sake, set them free.”

His black eyebrows slam together. “You would play their games. In their stead.”

“Yes,” I implore. “A million times, yes.”

He pauses for a beat, then swerves away. “No.”

The reply catches me like a slap across the face. Not that I’m surprised, but for Lark and Juniper, it was worth a try.

From within the vegetation, serpents hiss, the noises short and shrill. Anger simmers in my gut, where once there was fear. I bite out, “Then tell me this game we’ve apparently begun, and I’ll win against you, as you kindly suggested.”

Elixir stops mid-stride. He wheels, the hem of his robe a black disk swishing around his frame as he returns to me. “I’m more than your opponent. I’m your objective.”

“Excuse me?”

“A curse. You must break a curse.”

“On whom?”

“On me.”

It takes a moment for the truth to sink in, along with a stunning bout of realization. “That’s why you’re blind.”

No answer. No inclination of the head to confirm this.

His shadow dwarfs mine the way a rattlesnake’s shadow would devour a dormouse. “Break my curse. If not, you lose. That is the game.”

“This doesn’t make sense. Breaking the curse would restore your vision. You would be invested in me winning.”

“No.”

“No?”

“Think. Harder.”

I can’t read him the way he reads me. It’s easy to empathize with my people, but they’re human. They’rehumane. I can’t sense the inner workings of a viper.

But I do have a logical sister who’s rubbed off on me over the years. Because this moment calls for rationale, there’s only reason for Elixir to task me with breaking his curse—while also wanting me to fail. “It’s a consolation prize.”

Elixir inclines his head. “It is more. I have no grievance against my condition, for it is not a defect.”

“I know it isn’t. I’m not so narrow-minded as you think. What I meant was, gaining your sight back would become a weapon. You’d use it as a tool, an agenda.”

“Yes,” he confirms. “You do not have a prayer of winning, but should you prevail by luck, challenging you with this feat is the lesser of the two evils. Your victory might bring these lands closer to fading, yet I shall have my vision back long enough to see your face when I retaliate.”

“Retaliate how? The rules say my sisters and I go free if we win. The rules say I live.”

“You do.” His irises spark. “The rules just do not say for how long.”

Cold panic floods my chest. The Folk are masters of riddles and twisted truths, so my sisters and I should have anticipated something like this. The rules list nothing about what happens after we go free, how long we survive. The rules say nothing about us living in peace.

Elixir lets his silence and my imagination do the damage for him. He would rather win for the sake of restoring his world than lose for the sake of restoring his vision. But in the rare off-chance I succeed, and the curse is lifted, he’ll exact revenge anyway.

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