Page 7 of Fae Trials

“And disguise yourself.”

“Wait.” I rushed over to my sister. “You’re panicking. It isn’t so bad.”

“You’ve attracted the attention of one of the Fated.” She lowered her voice to a whisper. “These things are vicious and have long memories. If you don’t do something, she’ll torment you until you die of old age.”

I shook my head, even though the beginnings of hysteria burned the back of my throat. Sicily was right. Lady Gala had been itching to curse someone and only left so she wouldn’t lose out on an iPad. I could picture that twisted creature somehow blaming me for not getting a computer and finding creative ways to make the next few decades of my life miserable. Some fae could be that petty.

Sicily balled her fists and flung herself onto the daybed. “None of the people living in the human world have to put up with this crap.” She punched a cushion, loosening its stuffing. “The United bloody Nations could find us somewhere else to live, but they keep us here and make things worse by making everyone wish to live their perfect lives.”

I lowered myself into the seat next to my sister. She was talking about the television sets, DVDs, and magazines delivered in those crates. The old humans said that having alternative forms of entertainment distracted the fae from tormenting us, but it also showed us what we were missing.

“But those women on the reality shows are miserable,” I said without feeling an ounce of conviction. “They can wear what they want, eat what they want, and go anywhere, but they’re always fighting.”

Sicily swiped away fresh tears with the back of her hands. “It would be different with us. If we lived in America, we’d be grateful for our lives.”

“Yeah,” I said with a sigh. “Although I’d prefer to live in a cabin with the Four Lumberjacks of Switzerland.”

“Wouldn’t they tire you out?” she wiped the last of her tears.

“No way.” I shook my head. “I’d want them and all three of the Hemsworth brothers. One for each day of the week.”

Sicily placed her hand over her mouth to hide a giggle. “You’re so bad!”

My heart lightened at the sight of her smile. The chances of us ever leaving the Isle of Fae were nil, but I hoped that the box really did contain iPads. If Lady Gala was distracted by the shiny, new technology, she wouldn’t come hunting to finish what she had started.

I glanced at the timer on our DVD player. It was off. Probably because the solar panel had disconnected itself from the battery again. Later, when Elijah arrived, I would ask him to fix the electricity and update me on the situation with the curse-happy Lady Gala of Nevermore.

Chapter 3

Neither of us dared to venture outside in case Lady Gala decided to return with the drake. Instead, we spent the morning wrangling with the batteries of our solar power system. It took us a couple of hours to do what Elijah could achieve in ten seconds, but we got the electricity running again.

After a late breakfast, we blotted out the morning’s events with highlights of Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. It made for hypnotic watching. Here on Fae Island, humans aged faster than they did in the outside world, or at least that’s how we looked compared to the people on the DVDs. Very few people had cosmetics or Extreme Makeovers.

I leaned forward in my seat and let out a wistful sigh at the rich bitches on the television. Our grandmothers were virtually indistinguishable from hags, except a hag had magic and could outrun a horse when sufficiently angered.

In this episode, one of the women held a dinner party fit for faerie royalty with gold-patterned plates and gilded crystalware. When they brought out the food, my mouth watered. It wasn’t like we were hungry here, as the fae allowed humans to work on their lands and keep a fraction of what they produced. The UN also brought in food from the outside world, but we couldn’t put ingredients together to create spectacular and varied dishes.

One of the housewives fed a lapdog from a gold-rimmed glass. Sicily huffed. “Even the dogs eat better on the outside.”

The camera switched to the stony face of the woman who owned the glass. “Uh-oh. I think another fight’s going to break out.”

Sicily leaned forward. “This’ll be good.”

Someone knocked on the door.

Panic exploded across my chest, and both our heads snapped up. What if it was Prince Rory and Lady Gala, here for round two of my punishment? I placed my hand on the armrest and pushed myself up.

Sicily grabbed my arm and hissed, “Don’t answer that.”

“But she can break the door down,” I whispered back.

“If that’s her, she won’t be able to enter without an invitation.”

I gulped. Sicily was right. The magic that King Oberon set up to protect humans from faerie mischief meant that the fae couldn’t barge into our dwellings. It didn’t stop them from tricking or bargaining with a human to kick down the door and drag us out.

“Get in the bedroom,” she whispered. “I’ll see who’s there.”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the other door. “Let’s both hide.”