“Goodness.” The female swiped the back of her hand across her forehead and sucked in a deep breath. “I wasn’t sure you were ever going to regain consciousness.”
Maeve opened her mouth to thank them, but her words came out as more of a croak.
“Easy does it, love.” The male shuffled over to the table behind him, grabbing a pitcher and a small glass, then pouredit full of water. “You must be dying of thirst. You’ve been unconscious for a few hours.”
He brought the glass back to her, carefully lifting it to her lips to help her drink.
Cool, refreshing water slid down Maeve’s throat.
“I appreciate your kindness.” She paused, waiting for that terrifying, slimy sensation of dark magic to fill her once more. When it failed to return, she glanced up at the fae. “But…the venom?”
“It was a necessary extraction to heal you in time,” the female stated, folding her arms around her. “The Dark Queen’s potion has a bad habit of inhibiting healing magic.”
“I must say, your back was some of my best work.” The male returned the glass to the table, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth. “I was able to repair your spine and heal the wounds from your lashing. Now, there shouldn’t be any scarring. At least, not physically. But mentally…”
His voice trailed off and Maeve was grateful for it.
She held out both of her arms, inspecting herself. The pain in her back had diminished almost completely, and it looked as though the Spring healers had seen fit to clean her up as well. She was in a pair of brown leather leggings with boots that strapped up to her knees, and a loose-fitting white blouse that laced down the back.
Seconds ticked by and she silently debated seeing if she’d be able to glean any kind of information from them, when something the female said prodded at the back of her mind.
“I’m sorry.” Maeve shook her head and her golden pink hair tumbled forward. “You mentioned I needed to be healed in time…for what, exactly?”
A look of caution passed between the two fae.
“We’ve said too much,” the male grunted, and started gathering up his supplies.
“No, wait.” Maeve stood abruptly, then swayed. “Please.”
The female took hold of her wrist, leading her to a small wooden stool in the center of the room. Maeve grabbed her hand, she wasn’t above begging. “Surely you can give me something, anything, to help me prepare.”
The male simply shook his head and headed for the door. The female, however, lingered. She placed a hand on Maeve’s shoulder, gently encouraging her to sit. Resigned, Maeve lowered herself onto the stool.
“Heed my words, Dawnbringer. There is nothing I can give you that will ever prepare you for what you are about to face.” The female lowered her gaze to the stone floor and backed away. “Rest now, for you will need all of your strength.”
Suddenly, there was a loud clanking noise, like the grinding of metal. Grit and dust rose from the ground in a cloud of debris. Maeve’s lungs seized, and she coughed against the assault. She covered her nose and mouth with her blouse, tugging it upward to shield her face, and then she caught sight of the floor.
It wasmoving.
The large stone square beneath her feet was inching upward, rising from the base of the room. Higher and higher it lifted up from the floor while the light from the small room slowly diminished. The horrible noise continued, grating against her ears as the ceiling drew closer. Panicked, she slid off of the stool, knocking it from the raised stone. She cowered down on her hands and knees, peering over the edge as her heart leapt into the back of her throat.
“What are you doing?” Maeve’s gaze shot to the ceiling, where she was certain to be crushed. “What’s happening?”
But she could no longer see the room or the fae, and soon she imagined she wouldn’t see anything ever again.
Crouching as low as possible, she held her breath and shielded her arms over her head, waiting for impact.
The cool rush of air greeted her instead.
Maeve glanced up to see the ceiling had opened as well. There was another deafening clang. The ground came to a jarring stop, and she found herself surrounded by mist. She was…outside.
“What the…”
Walking in a small circle, she took stock of her surroundings. Much like the dream world with Aed, the heavy mist impaired most of her vision. The skies were barely visible, gray and overcast by a thick blanket of clouds. A steady mist drizzled down, dampening her clothes and hair. There were no signs of life—no rustling of leaves or scurrying of wildlife, not even the familiar song of the breeze. Just an all-encompassing silence.
Chills raked across her flesh.
She took a wary step forward, and a shiver of warning raced down her spine. Mindful of what little shecouldsee, Maeve edged her way through the mist, and walked right into a metal bar.
