He…wasn’t really there.
It was then, that she noticed she could see the firelight through him.
“You are liable to catch flies.”He vanished, as though he had never been there at all.
Now, she was trembling. Well, tremblingagain.“Where—where am I?—”
“My prison. And now, yours.”He was matter-of-fact. There was nothing she could get from his voice as far as how he felt about the subject.
Prison. “Wait. I’m…trappedhere? No. No, let me out. Let me out of this place right now!” She clutched the book harder to her chest like it was a shield.
“Do not make foolish demands, little butterfly.”
He was right. She knew it was a pointless thing to say. Not only was she powerless in this situation, as she clearly was inwayover her head, but she’d felt it the moment she set foot in the building.
“What are you?”
“Your kind would call mine the Fair Folk. Though it is more complex than that, it is a conversation for another time.”
Fair Folk? Wait.What?He was thefae?“What the fuck is a fairy doing inMassachusetts,I thought you were all—y’know, European, or?—”
“Our realms may connect in a myriad of ways. And if you think your forests and dales do not whisper with creatures born of my kind by other names, you are woefully mistaken.”He delivered his words with all the passion of a professor giving the same lecture for the twenty-thousandth time. That was to say, none at all.
“What do you want from me?”
“A contract that can serve us both.”
That…didn’t sound good. “I’ve read enough to know you don’t make deals with the fae.”
“And if you wish to ever be free again, my dear, you will reconsider your position on the matter. For the only way to be free of this nightmare is with my assistance. That book you hold will now keep you from death—but as Gregor so neatly demonstrated, there are far worse fates you might suffer.”
Turning, she stared at the chair where the pile of ash that was once the very-much-should-have-been-dead man had been just moments before. She looked down at the book at her hands. The book that she had “stolen.”
Nothing was making any sense.
Trapped in a prison. With a stolen book. Being taunted by a disembodied voice. “I don’t think I should make any kind of deal with you.”
“As you wish.”The door to the room clicked open by an unseen hand, the door swinging open. She expected to be instantly inundated by a swarm of horrible millipede rat monsters. But to her relief, nothing was there. Nothing but an empty hallway of abandoned beautiful architecture and overgrowth.“You will change your mind, soon enough.”
Somehow, she knew he was right.
But she had to try to escape on her own. The voice might very well be lying to her—using her. For all she knew, it was very likely his fault she was here to begin with. Why would she trust him, let alone make a deal with him?
She had totry.Even if it was going to fail.
Even if she had no clue of where to begin.
She headed out into the hallway.
“Welcome to the Web, little thief…”
CHAPTER THREE
Running her hand through her wet curls, wringing out some of the water, she wiped her face. “All right. Okay. Sure. Fine. Whatever. Great. Kicked out of my house. Lured into the woods. Trapped in a…prison? Cool. I have a creepy book that I…” She looked down at the giant thing in her hand. “Can’t open?” Sure enough, the latches were very much solid, and there was no way to put in a key or twist anything to get them open as far as she could see.
Adjusting her backpack, she headed off into the abandoned building that was apparently some kind of prison, if that freaky…fae,she forced herself to keep saying the word to herself in her head, was telling her the truth. The one who was both somehow there butnot.
It was possible he was lying.
