Page 35 of Apples Dipped in Gold
Dread crept into my chest at his question.
“That I could leave,” I said.
“One thing you must learn about fae is that just because they cannot lie does not mean they tell the truth.”
“I do not understand—”
“Perhaps you may leave,” said the fox. “But only if you are engaged before sunrise.”
“What?” I asked breathlessly, shock striking my heart.
“You are dressed as a maiden seeking a husband, clad in white and crowned. Someone here must ask for your hand. Otherwise, you will spend a year inside the elfin hill.”
“That cannot be,” I said.
“It is,” said the fox, his gaze moving past me. “Though you may have no trouble leaving. It seems the goblin king has taken a liking to you.”
“Goblin king?” I asked, peering over my shoulder to find the half goblin from earlier standing at the banquet table beside a very small elven man who was so wrinkled, he looked as though he’d melted on the stack of pillows beneath him. They were watching me.
I turned back to the fox. “You must help me,” I said. “I do not want—”
My words died on my lips as someone approached, and I looked up to meet Lore’s violet eyes.
“Wild one,” he said.
I swallowed hard. Up close, he did not look so angry, but his eyes were still bright, burning like an ethereal fire.
“Prince,” I said and slowly rose to my feet.
He offered his hand. “Dance with me.”
I hesitated, uncertain, given what he wanted from me.
“Samara?” he said. The name was low, barely a whisper. It felt strangely like a spell, and I thought about what the fox had said, about names having power.
I gave Lore my hand, and he led me to the edge of the meadow. We stood apart and the distance felt strange.
“I do not know how to dance,” I said.
“You seemed to know earlier,” he replied. “Though if you find you are lost, look for me.”
The music began, and he bowed his head. I looked about, finding that the ladies curtsied, so I did the same. We rose and circled each other, only to repeat the same move, our eyes never leaving the other.
“You ran,” he said.
“I will not wish for you,” I said.
I noticed his mouth tighten, but then we turned away from each other, moving in a wide loop until we came face-to-face again. He held out his hand, and I took it as we stepped together and apart.
“I am not asking you to speak it into the ether,” he said.
“Then what are you asking?”
We paused as we made another loop around each other, but this time, Lore took another fae’s hand while I dipped beneath their arms. I looked at the other dancers, feeling ridiculous as I danced this strange dance, but I remembered Lore’s words and turned to him.
He took my hand again.
“I am asking you to accompany me on a quest to find the wishing tree upon which golden apples grow,” he said. “When we find it, you must pick one and only take a bite to wish me free. It is that simple.”
