Page 55 of The Curse of Eternity
“Then she’d be stuck here, and you won’t get paid.” She took my free hand in her surprisingly firm grip.
On my other side, Drake’s hand trailed down my arm to grasp my hand. The subtle touch felt like sparks along my skin. Floaty sensations drifted through my head, and I sighed.
“It was only a suggestion.” Atticus shrugged, turning on his heel. “Alright, best be off.”
“Shewillbe alright, yes?” Drake asked across me, his raven-dark eyes revealing a brighter ring of brown in the light of day. Even surrounded by bloodshot streaks, his eyes were beautiful—like the smoky quartz that Everly had on display in her psychic shop. Mesmerized, I stared intently at his eyes until his gaze flickered to mine.
A grin spread across my lips as my head tilted, taking in every minute detail of his bone structure. Vampires appeared more decayed in the sunlight as they got older, but their human illusion in the shade would’ve been identical to how they looked when they died. Every subtlety, scar, or wrinkle frozen in time.How old had Drake been when he was transformed?In the dark, he didn’t seem much older than I was—
“I think so?” Daphne offered, her words almost dulled to the background behind a soft buzzing filling my ears. “She’s not the first human to come to the Summerland and then leave.”
“Do you call it that because it’s so sunny?” I asked, and then giggled at the musical sound of my own voice.
“I, um—” Seeming at a loss for words on our stroll through flowery fields—the petals soft as butter against my hands’ bare skin—Daphne said, “I’m not entirely sure, but maybe. The sun never sets here, so the day never ends.”
“That’s silly,” I pointed out, smiling wide when Drake raised his eyebrows at me. Wow, it feltsogood when he looked my way. What were we talking about? Oh, right— “When would you sleep if it never gets dark?”
“We are fae,” Atticus stated. “We don’t sleep as frequently as humans. Also, there is such a thing as a curtain.”
“So, you’re like vampires. You don’t need to rest?” I tore my gaze from Drake to balk at Atticus’s strangely elongated strides, his graceful movements contradicting the sharp disdain on his pale face.
“Don’t compare us to the undead, human girl. It belittles our great race.”
“Why? If Drake can have a friend that’s a faery then how are you all so different?” I wished I could swallow the statement down when Drake suddenly squeezed my hand. Lips pursed, I gave him an apologetic grimace. Then we passed a leaf with a little yellow caterpillar on top. It waved when we walked by, and I tried to wave back, but Drake and Daphne were still firmly holding onto me.
“Let me guess,” Atticus began, but I’d forgotten what we were talking about when I faced ahead. “It’s that pesky little court merchant. Aiden.”
“I have no idea who—” Drake’s toneless rebuttal was cut short by Atticus’s bark of laughter.
“I thought as much. Acting as your guide is one thing. Selling faery-made wares to mortals, or the undead, is a form of heresy. If I wasn’t so far up debt creek to the cretin I’d be telling Queen Titania. She’d put a stop to it. Unfortunately—” He glanced at Daphne. “King Oberon is not nearly as severe.”
“Queen Titania?” The name struck as familiar, and then my designated reading assignment from high school flashed back. “You mean, like in Shakespeare’s play?”
“Oh, yes.” Atticus cheered, his exhale nostalgic. “I remember the days of Shakespeare. A brilliant court jester, if you asked me. Bit heavy on the ale, but most entertaining. All of us alive back then placed bets on whether or not he’d return to the human lands with his liver intact.”
“Which side of the bet were you on?” Daphne hedged, a hint of sarcasm coloring her cadence, and Atticus’s expression soured.
“Never-you-mind.” Sticking his nose in the air, the faery walked on.
Somewhere between when we set off and now, we’d climbed one of the hills I’d seen in the distance. The valley below overflowed with tall yellow grass like wheat or barley that pricked and pulled at my pants. I completely forgot the previous conversation until Atticus kept talking.
“Anyhow, the Seelie court moves on with every changing tide. As it had when Daphne arrived in our midst.”
“Why?” I demanded, my curiosity piqued by Daphne’s reddening face. “What happened?”
“It’s just that the court doesn’t think very highly of changelings…” A pink and gold shimmering aura appeared around Daphne’s silhouette, and I leaned in to study it. “Nobody likes me being here, very much.”
“Nonsense,” Atticus retorted. “Prince Lysander thinks very highly of you. I have heard it.”
“From who?” It felt like my heart would explode if I didn’t learn the answer, but why had I asked?
“She’s a nosy one, isn’t she?” Atticus addressed Daphne, and my nostrils flared at being spoken over.
“She is not normally like this.” At the sound of Drake’s soothing voice, all my irritation drained away.Man, that accent would be the death of me one day—I’d follow it into hell. “The manna must have a hold on her.”
“Whatismanna?” I blinked up at Drake, but Daphne answered on my other side.
“I told you, it’s the magick of the Summerland. A wild sort of energy that most faeries are born able to manipulate to some extent.”
