Page 20 of The Wicked Lies of Habren Faire
I pluck the ring from my palm and hold it aloft like a trophy. His eyes narrow on the thin band of iron as I fix him with a cold smile. I slowly slide the ring back onto my middle finger, where it will remain—a harsh warning and a lesson he shouldn’t ignore. He must learn fast that I can burn him as easily as he can smile and charm.
8
yr ysgolhaig
(THE SCHOLAR)
“The fastest way to the palace is to go to the King’s Road and summon one of Mallt-y-Nos’s steeds. Stop scowling, it isn’t far. I don’t know why you’re so furious.” Neirin tosses the words over his shoulder. “I’m the one who has been wounded, after all.”
He waves his burned palm at me and grins. I’m sure he isn’t as bothered by the pain as he acts.
“I’m angry that I’m stuck withyou,” I answer.
Neirin laughs. “Am I worse than death at the hands of a pwca?”
“I’m sure I’ll find out shortly,” I retort.
“Indeed, you will.”
“So long as you get me to Y Lle Tywyll quickly.” I shrug.
“Quickly,” Neirin scoffs and elegantly climbs over a moss-covered log. “You humans love to do everythingquickly. I’m a scholar of your kind; I know well how fleeting your time is. But it isn’t so short as to need to tear through every moment.”
Neirin turns to face me as I step onto the log. I’m of an average height and he’s rather tall, but from here I get to look down at him. His upturned eyes are large and gleaming.
I give a short laugh. “Why would you be interested in humans?”
“Why areyouinterested in us?” he counters.
“Did I say I was?”
Neirin winks. “You don’t need to. Every other human has made as much clear for you.”
I cross my arms, enjoying my vantage point. “Fine. Then can I ask you a question about… this world?”
“By all means.” His eyebrows rise slightly.
“You mentioned Mallt-y-Nos,” I say. “Matilda of the Night. Why can you only summon her horse on a specific road? She rides with the Wild Hunt. Surely she can do as she pleases.”
“You know more than most humans, it seems.”
Something warms in my chest at that tiny bit of praise. I stare at him in silence, awaiting an answer to my question.
“Only this road leads to the palace, and it wouldn’t be a very good palace if the Wild Hunt could just rush in. She has a deal with the king. Mallt’s horses provided safe passage to and from the palace, and in exchange, the king respects and upholds her traditional hunting rites on lost souls in our world and your own—within reason,” he says, like it’s all the height of common sense, before frowning. “Your people know about Matilda?”
“Obviously.”
Neirin winces. “Damn, she’ll lord that over me.”
I tilt my head questioningly. “Am I supposed to have heard of you? I know plenty of stories about pretty, scheming fairies. If you’ve done something special, you’ll have to jog my memory.”
“Oh, I’m no one.” He laughs earnestly. “But I’m glad you think I’m pretty.” I make an irate noise that he ignores. “What else do you want to know about us?”
I’m tempted to saynothing, but curiosity bites at my heels. “Do you have dragons?”
“Apparently.”
“You’ve never seen one?”
