Page 33 of The Fae Menagerie
"Chani stopped by," Doyle said, signing their name for the cuddlebug children still huddled outside. "I thought you knew that."
"I …" he sputtered. "Yes."
"We were swarmed by wasps last night. You also know that." From the children's horrified expressions, they were as upset about the wasp escape as Doyle was.
"They failed, apparently," Aidan muttered under his breath. If he thought he'd kept that thought to himself, he was mistaken.
"Your obfuscation spells don't work in here, remember?" Doyle smirked. "I know you released them. What were you thinking?"
"I wanted to scare you." Aidan shrugged. "I hope you don't have nightmares. Enjoy the rest of your hour."
Doyle didn't seem worried about Aidan's thinly veiled threat, so I returned my attention to the book I was reading.
Our stomachs were growling in earnest by the time the bell sounded again. This one sounded different, closer, and Doyle confirmed when I asked.
"The penalty bell rings only for the enclosures that suffer the penalty."
"Where is the bell?" I asked. It seemed to come from everywhere around us during the regular time, but this time, the sound rang from a central location in the viewing room.
"There is no bell." Doyle draped his arm over my shoulder and ruffled my hair. "It's a spell."
"I thought magic didn't work in here."
"Certain spells do." He dropped his voice to a whisper. "The gloves Chani gave me."
He let me go and led the way to the kitchen, where two bowls of steaming stew sat on the table, along with thick pieces of toast. Doyle motioned for me to sit and take a bite. I dipped the toast into my bowl, and he didn't slap my hand when I brought it to my mouth.
"Hot, and bland," I said.
He sank into his chair with yet another smile. "The chandeliers are magically affixed above the magic barrier," he said while I continued to eat. "I assume the bell is anchored there, too, and tied into the menagerie's clockwork. Everything here operates like clockwork. Daily viewing. Weekly cleaning. Monthly inspections."
"Monthly?" I asked. "Aidan's here every week."
Doyle nodded. "He was supposed to be my ticket out of here, if I ever managed to seduce him." He took a giant bite of toast, but it did nothing to hide the blush seeping into his cheeks. "I know now that was impossible."
"Does he know you've given up?" I asked. Aidan had resumed his weekly inspections despite Doyle's refusal to do anything sexual with him. I'd heard their arguments. Each time, Aidan sounded more and more agitated.
"I haven't given up," Doyle insisted. "I still want out of here. I just … the punishment's not so bad when you're here."
I barked out a laugh and almost choked on my next bite of potato. "I'm glad I could make your prison sentence tolerable."
He laughed with me, and his blush spread higher on his cheeks and across the bridge of his nose. "I've been in here a long time, Parker. I mean it. The last month-and-a-half has been the best so far."
"That's only because you were bored."
"I was bored," he admitted. "Every day was the same. Breakfast. Viewing. Lunch. Lie around in bed. Dinner. Liearound in bed some more, maybe fall asleep before morning, and then do it all again. With you, every day is a new adventure."
"Adventure? We can't leave these four walls."
"Oh, but we have," Doyle reminded me. "Remember that silly book you read aloud to me, passage after passage? We traveled to Meratonia, or wherever it was set."
"There's no such place," I said. "It's made up."
"How do you know?" he asked. "Before you fell through the portal into the menagerie, did you know this place existed?"
He had a point. "No, but Meratonia had dragons and a princess with meat curtains between her legs."
Doyle shoved his bowl aside to pound on the table while he laughed. "Say it again."
