Page 79 of A Betrothal So Bloody

As we venture on, Laelia hums to herself. The foliage responds like a massive, purring beast, parting for her and even caressing her at times. She is adept at helping us avoid the more dangerous bits of the forest—after nearly leading us right into them.

“Oh, not that way,” she says casually, turning on her heel and moving past us.

My lantern’s light catches upon a vast patch of white silk. Stomach churning, I squint and see multiple segmented legs as thick as my arm creeping out from behind a nearby tree. I hurriedly steer Dante away when he murmurs curiously about what the beast’s blood might taste like.

Another trap awaits on the path soon after—and Laelia does get caught in it. One moment she’s traipsing in front of us. The next, she vanishes from the ground, caught in a net of vines overhead. Before I can even reach for my blade to cut her loose, she hums her way out of it. The vines lower her back to the ground and release her. She then proceeds as though this is a common occurrence for her.

“Don’t let anyone tell you that human hunters are the reason these things are nearly extinct,” Dante mutters to me.

The further we go, the more the woodland hums with undeniable energy—with magic. It also seems to play upon Laelia’s mood. Her movements become more spastic. She cuts in front of me several times, more of a hazard than any of the twisting roots.

After I nearly trip on my face for the second time, she barely glances over her shoulder. “Oh, sorry!”

“It’s fine,” I grit out.

Dante raises his eyebrows hopefully. Can we kill her now?

My lips pinch. I’m starting to consider it. At this point, I’m beginning to wonder if she’s not simply leading us in circles—either purposely or because she’s forgotten where we’re going.

But something changes and makes me come to a standstill with Dante beside me. Every cell in my body feels…awake. The air is clean and thin, alive with an invisible energy that feels stronger than anything I’ve sensed thus far. A buzzing sound rings out overhead, accompanied by the rustle of branches. I ease closer to Dante and reach for a blade, imagining grotesque insects bearing down on us.

But no. As I search overhead, a trio of diminutive glowing lights become visible—blue, violet, and green.

Fairies have found perches on the branches. And they do not look pleased.

“What’s this?” one fairy says.

“Trespassers,” says another. “Very determined trespassers to have made it this far.”

“Thank the earth!” Laelia chirps, dropping into a deep curtsy before the fairies. “I thought I had taken a wrong turn. Peaceful greetings, honored ones.”

I know I’m not imagining the flat looks that the fairies exchange with each other.

“Laelia,” the violet one says in a honeyed tone that rings false. “How far did you make it this time before finding yourself in peril?”

“Much further than usual,” Laelia says proudly.

“Then found yourself in the clutches of outsiders,” the green one says. “And decided to bring them straight into our territory.”

The fairies’ eyes fix on Dante and me. The blue one sneers. “Has the witch sent you on an errand to take another of ours?”

They descend, circling like predators as they assess us. My breath catches when I take a closer look at them. They’re fierce despite their delicate stature–each no more than seven inches tall, just like the wingless corpse we’d found in the witch’s hovel. So humanlike and beautiful—and unsettling. The murdered one at the witch’s hut had been as vibrant as them not too long ago. Did that one leave behind friends, family?

“We’re not with the witch,” I assure as calmly as I can manage. “We mean no harm—we only want to proceed.”

The violet fairy pauses in front of Dante, her face pinched in a scowl. “This one… He’s not what he appears. A beast that does not belong to this land.”

“A beast? I’m your hero!” Dante holds out his arms and gestures to himself. “I singlehandedly destroyed that witch, I’ll have you know. A warmer welcome is usually in order for saviors, no?”

The blue fairy laughs snidely. “And we should trust the word of a vampire? That’s ended well for many, I’m sure.”

I can’t help but snicker, earning a sharp look from Dante. Laelia, however, blinks in Dante’s direction and takes a wide step back. “You’re a vampire?”

“Stars, how have you survived this long?” the green one sighs.

“That’s what I’ve been saying,” Dante remarks, as though this might help his case.

As much as I’d like to simply push forward, I have a sick feeling that we won’t be able to walk past these fairies without permission. While they tend to keep to themselves, there are ghastly tales of their abilities when they are threatened within their territory. I’d rather not provoke them and find out for myself whether they can transfigure unwanted guests into trees. The very thought of that particular legend sends a chill licking down my spine, and I eye the towering beeches around us with morbid curiosity.