Page 34 of Within the Hollow Heart

Nickolas, however, could not seem to take his eyes from them.

Catlike and spiky, the things rolled and hissed, one circling near William’s boot with its eyes on the man’s watch fob. Nickolas had not been so close to one before. He tried to scoot away but could not, given the cloth tangled around him and the rope tying his hands and feet. He glanced up at William, who seemed confused by the look on his face.

“Are you well, Nicky? It was just a little ride in a sack. You’ve done much worse on a lark.” He swatted at something near his ear. “Was it the fae woman? I know, truly, that was unfair. Very unsporting of me. But I must always hedge my bets. You know that.”

“Fae,” Nickolas wheezed. William was taking him to the fae. No ransom would be enough. Nickolas’s return would require a bargain. His gaze darted to the trees, where glowing eyes stared back at him—much larger, much more dangerous creatures waiting their turn. He was grateful that it was daylight, at least. “You bargained with fae. Just to get back at me?”

William had not yet laid eyes on the prince. Nickolas was sure of it. There was no other way the man would be able to stand so calmly among the creatures. The henchmen had not either. His mother must have only heard Jules’s words before the prince had used his magic to still the room. If any of them could see what Nickolas was seeing, they would run.

William lowered into a squat, bringing him close to Nickolas. “Oh,” he said. “I’m not doing this to punish you. I’m quite glad you’re out of contention. It will make things easier for me. Everyone says Princess Mireille has set her cap at you. Can’t hurt not to have you around.” His voice lowered, tinged with self-satisfaction. “But this… I’m doing this for your mother. She’s promised me a great deal in exchange for the task.”

Had Nickolas thought he was beyond surprise, the rogue in a gentleman’s jacket had proved him wrong again. Lady Brigham was conspiring with their extortionist. He did not know what she meant to gain, but he realized he should not have been surprised. His mother had tried to trade one of his sisters to the fae only the day before, after all. It did not sting any less. “You know you cannot trust her.”

William smiled. “That is the beauty of this deal, my friend. I do notneedto trust her. Your dear mother has found herself locked, however temporarily, inside a cell.” He pointed at himself then the other two men. “We make the trade, return to Westrende, and should your mother not uphold her end of the agreement, all the spoils go to me.”

One of the other men grunted, and William added, “And them. Of course, the spoils will also go to them.” The wink he gave Nickolas made clear the men would never see a single coin.

William leaned down and shoved the sack roughly over Nickolas’s head again. “Take care, old chap.”

* * *

After Nickolas’scaptor called the prince’s name, low words were spoken between William and the prince, barely skirting the bounds of civility. It was not long before William and the henchmen were dismissed. There was a moment of stillness in which Nickolas thought he heard a sigh, then the prince spoke low words of his own, and a new voice followed.

“Take him,” the prince said.

A single hand took hold of Nickolas’s arm and led him in the direction that he knew was the wall. His feet dug in automatically, but the hand somehow held more strength than it ought. It drew him forward, unyieldingly, and Nickolas sensed the moment they stepped over the Rive.

When Nickolas was a boy, he’d once leapt into a pond on a dare. It had been the dead of winter, and the moment his skin touched the icy water, shock stole through his entire being. He’d barely made it back to the shore that day, shivering and stiff and uttering nonsense.

That shock was nothing to crossing the boundary. For one instant, it felt as if his body were submerged, overwhelmed with pressure and sensation and the intense desire to reach the surface. Then they were through and the sensation gone. He did feel the urge to utter a few nonsensical noises, but otherwise, it was as if the sensation had never happened at all.

The hand on his arm urged him forward, and the path beneath his feet suddenly had the feel of polished marble. He had the sense he’d been moved by fae magic, as the prince had done when he’d taken Nickolas and Jules from the Filmore balcony. A short flight of stairs followed before Nickolas felt warmth and the still air of indoors. He thought he detected the scent of flowers when the hand leading him stopped, giving a gentle squeeze that Nickolas took as an indicator to stay put.

So there Nickolas stood.

“Get that off.” The voice belonged to the prince and was tinged with annoyance.

The cloth covering Nickolas’s head was removed, his wrists unbound. He stood in the center of a massive entrance hall, its fine, smooth stone reminiscent of the glamour that obscured the filigree wall, every corner and trim piece impossibly intricate. Opulent and grand, it rose three stories, with carved marble stairs and great open archways overlooking the floor. Thin vines trailed over surfaces like living sculpture, flowering magenta and violet beneath the open ceiling so far above.

Nickolas blinked hard several times in an attempt to make what he was seeing disappear. It did not. He was inside a fae palace. The prince stood before him, evidently waiting for Nickolas to grant his attention. Nickolas held up a single finger while continuing to gape.

He could not quite believe it. His own mother had traded him to the fae. He’d been delivered to the prince himself. He was standing inside aRivenwildepalace.

“Lord Brigham,” the prince said dourly. “I do have other matters to attend this afternoon.”

Nickolas blinked at the man, realizing his finger was still in the air and that his hands were a bit numb from their bindings. He dropped the finger and rubbed his hands together surreptitiously.

The corner of the prince’s eye twitched irritably. “Noal will show you to your rooms and provide a fresh wardrobe. He will be available should you require aught else.”

Nickolas glanced from the tall, smartly dressed man who had untied his hands to the prince. “My rooms?”

The twitch appeared again, possibly more intensely. “As I said.”

His gaze darting across the space once more, Nickolas said, “I’m not… you’ll not put me in a cell?”

A flat expression crossed the prince’s face, as if put off by the idea, but he said only, “There is no need to bind you. Should you leave this palace, you will no longer be under my protection. That, I believe you will find, is incentive enough.”

Nickolas shot a glance at the other fae, Noal, whose expression was a bit more telling. What it told Nickolas was that he did not want to discover what awaited him in the fae wilds.

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