Page 127 of The Beast King's Bride

I open my mouth to tell Pete where to shove that idea, when the man says something that stops me.

“And I tell you,” he roars, “I saw her dancing in the moonlight. She was a Faerie.”

The laughter fades from the table, the mirth replaced by uneasy looks.

“Where?” one of the men asks.

“It was near the Bells Well. I swear by the Gods below, she came after me, that damned Faerie, and I ran all the way to town. It’s a miracle my heart didn’t give out.”

“Looks like not even Faerie women like your hairy ass,” another guy says. “No luck in any world with the ladies.”

And they all dissolve into laughter again.

Pete meets my eyes and I nod. Who knew that tales could prove useful?

He turns to the man beside him and asks where the well is located. Turns out, it’s not far from here. My sense of direction isn’t so bad after all.

“And how do you cross over?” Pete asks.

“You sound as if you’re planning on doing it.” The man puts down his ale and eyes us both, bushy brows heavy over his eyes. “Please tell me that you’re not.”

“Oh, no, it’s only a bet between us.” Pete jabs a thumb at me. “She says that you have to wait for the full moon and then turn three times clockwise chanting a prayer, but my mom told me before she passed that to cross over you need a dead man’s shoes and a honey pie to feed the Faeries.”

“Well, there are many ways, I suppose.” The man chugs down some more of his ale. “But the best way I know, one that always works, was told me by an old man who lived near one of them gates. He said, you need a token from the land of Faerie, a Faerie object, not from this world. You throw it into the well, a sacrifice, a payment to open the gate, and don’t forget to say the name of the place you want to reach.”

“And then what, you jump into the well?”

“With both feet.” The man winks at us and finishes his ale.” All this talk has made me thirsty.”

Taking the hint, Pete calls for more ale for our new friend and asks for more tales as I slurp my stew and ale, thinking about what the man said about a Fae token.

We’re gone from the inn before dawn breaks, riding over snow and dirty puddles of water, the wind biting into our faces and hands. Poe flies over us, cawing at times, his shadow on the ground accompanying us.

We arrive at the well as the sun crests the sky. It’s just as I remember it and the terror of those moments returns with the memories—that terrible feeling of falling with no direction.

“You seem to know how we’re going to do this, though you won’t tell me anything,” Pete says, patting his horse’s neck. “You have a Fae token? For real? What are the odds of that?”

I dismount and pull off the ring that Talen gave me. I lift it for Pete to see. “Here is the token. Let’s do this. Coming?”

“You know that ring is priceless,” Pete says, staring down into the dark well. Here it’s even colder than out on the plain, the wind whistling around us, touching us with icy fingers.

“Because he gave it to me.”

“And because it could fetch a trunk full of gold.” He straightens to wink at me. “Just saying.”

“Yeah. You say a lot of things, Pete. You’re the one who told me about the ring you gave to your wife.”

He sighs. “We’re really doing this, huh?”

“Still time for you to change your mind.”

“Nah. If you go, there’s nothing for me here.”

“Pete, don’t say that. There could be. Another woman—”

“Never. I’ll never love another woman.” He shakes his shaggy head and pulls his shoulders back. “To be honest, this is a relief, this… running away with my friend into another world. It almost feels like dying. Like jumping into a nightmare.”

“Is it a nightmare if there are good bits, too?”

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