“Oh, I don’t know…because it’s fucking dangerous, Maeve.” Laurel jerked forward in her seat, slamming her palms against the table so the teacup rattled in its saucer. She stole a glance toward the far entrance of the dining hall and when she spoke, her voice was low. “Besides, the last thing I need is to have Aed or Rowan come for my head when they find out I sent their precious Dawnbringer into the Stygian Spine.”
The Stygian Spine.
Cold unease wrapped its hand around Maeve’s throat, and she shivered. She figured getting to Diamarvh would be no easy task, but she hadn’t realized she’d have to go through the forest that gripped her with fright, that unnerved her to the core, and left her terrified. Something about that place, about the Stygian Spine, brought her darkest fears to life.
She swallowed, shaking off the mounting dread. “I’m sure I’ve faced worse things than a creepy forest.”
Laurel smiled sinisterly. “Have you, though?”
Maeve didn’t buckle beneath the implication. “I have to go to Diamarvh, Laurel. The lives of many depend on it.”
“Do they really?” Laurel’s deep berry lips pursed in disbelief. “Or maybe you only want to go because you somehow got it stuck in your pretty little head that a bunch of dead guys are the key to your salvation.”
Scowling, Maeve shook her head. “You don’t understand.”
Laurel’s teeth scraped along her bottom lip. “Try me.”
“Innocent people are relying on me to save them.” Desperation clawed at her. Why didn’t Laurel grasp the severity of the situation? Everything she knew, everything she loved, would be taken from her. “If I fail, they’ll have no hope of survival.”
“Please.” The female fae inspected her excessively long and pointy nails. The silver rings on each of her fingers glinted in the soft light. “Don’t go all martyr on me, Dawnbringer. I tried that once. Nothing good will ever come of it.”
A curious bit of information, one Maeve filed away for later consideration.
She crossed her arms, refusing to back down from Laurel’s harsh stare. She picked up her cup of coffee, never breaking eye contact.
“If you don’t tell me how to find Diamarvh myself, then I’ll just figure it out on my own.” Maeve sipped the scalding liquid, not flinching when it burned her tongue. “And if by chance I fail to return, the god of death will come for you…among others.”
“Are you threatening me now?” Laurel’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “That’s cute.”
Exasperation filtered through Maeve, and she pressed the tips of her fingers to her temples, rubbing lightly. Having any sort of discussion with the ruthless female was mentally exhausting.
Laurel lifted one sleek black brow. “How badly do you want to find the Wild Hunt?”
Unease settled around Maeve’s shoulders. The wicked gleam in Laurel’s gaze set her nerves on edge. Her jaw clenched and she lowered her hands to her lap, fingers twisting around the hem of her sweater.
“Come now, Maeve. There’s no need to be shy.” Laurel’s sultry voice echoed gently through the extravagant dining hall, the sound of it like a musical chord filled with all the minor notes. Her nails, painted a glossy maroon, tapped patiently against the hardwood surface of the table. “We’ll just make a simple deal, nothing too extraordinary.”
Maeve’s gaze landed on the constellation of tiny black stars wrapped around her thumb.
She’d made deals before, struck bargains even when the odds weren’t in her best interest. She was aware of the consequences of such a binding agreement, the dangers and unknown ramifications if she failed to uphold her end of the contract. But to be in Laurel’s debt…the thought of it was enough to make her walk away completely and not look back.
Laurel tossed her long hair over one shoulder, then shoved away from the table, standing up. “Well…” she drawled. “If you’re not interested…”
“I am.” Maeve was on her feet a second later. “What do you want?”
The fae grinned, almost feral, a flash of white teeth against the deep berry of her lips. “Okay, I’ll tell you how to find the Wild Hunt—”
“In detail,” Maeve interjected.
A slight nod.
“In detail,” Laurel repeated. “And in exchange for that information, you’ll bring me a book.”
“A book?” Maeve blinked. That was not at all what she was expecting to hear. She’d imagined Laurel would want the blood of her enemies or someone's first-born child, but not a tome.
“A very specific book.” Laurel stole a glance over her shoulder, then ducked her head, lowering her voice. “One that can only be found in the halls of Diamarvh.”
Maeve reared back, gaping. She snapped her mouth shut. “You want me tosteala book from the Wild Hunt?”
