Page 34 of My Fae Lady

But the ache in my stomach had doubled.

“Father set strict rules for me about venturing too far into the depths of the house,” she said, staring off fondly into the distance. She giggled at the memory. “That didn’t stop me from exploring, of course. When he caught me, he’d send me to bed without supper, but his lessons never stuck.”

“Why is that?” Unseelie things could be quite unpredictable and often frightening, especially to children. Even amongst our own young. I understood her fascination, of course. I lived for the wild magic, the beauty in disorder, and the law of the forest. Giselle just didn’t look or behave at all like the sort of person who would appreciate such things.

“House always had a meal ready for me in my room in spite of his orders . . . Oh?” The cab lurched forward, then began to slow.

“What’s wrong?” I squinted out the front window but couldn’t see through the blanket of fog.

“Excellent question,” Giselle said, gripping her seat cushion. “For lack of a better explanation, House hasn’t been feeling particularly well. Its magic is . . . not what it used to be. I’ve been trying to figure it all out, but the cause continues to elude me. There simply are parts of the house I’m not able to access. Especially within its depths.”

I had some guesses. The house would need to be tended to when it was mine once more.

We made it out of the barrier fog and into Faerie. The coach continued to roll us forward but at a pace I could walk. I sat on the edge of my seat, peering out into the woods. Dusk gathered, darkening clouds overhead. The rain had stopped, but the fresh smell of it permeated the air.

Unease settled in my chest and brought out my claws. It was much too quiet outside, given the hour. The chirping frog song felt too distant.

“It’ll get us back,” she said with confidence, patting the side of the cabin affectionately.

“That’s not what I’m worried about,” I murmured as we passed through a copse of trees into deeper, darker woods. My woods. Unseelie woods.

“What’s the bother?” she whispered, matching my hushed tone.

“Moving this slowly will make us appear weak. Easy prey.”

“There hasn’t been a robbery on these roads in centuries. Highwaymen are a human condition, and they don’t dare come here. Not with, well, fae like you about, happy to eat them for their trespass. They’d have to be suicidal—”

“They won’t be human and they won’t be interested in robbing us,” I said. Muscles in my shoulders and neck clenched.

They’d want to trick us. How bad that trick was would depend entirely on the fae and our reaction to it . . .

Fourteen

Sylvan

⊱❀⊰

A stillness continued to hover between the trees. Even the wind seemed too quiet, and though the weather was temperate, a bead of sweat slicked down the back of my neck. I studied the woods, my head on a swivel. I watched for the fall of every leaf, listened for the creak of every branch.

The sound of wingbeats caught my ear overhead. I leaned out the window and looked up moments before a being cloaked in shadows and blurred by speed dove at the carriage.

“Brace yourself,” I warned, retreating into the cabin.

Giselle grabbed hold of my arm and buried her face in my shoulder. The fae landed hard on the roof, denting it. Hatboxes went flying. My trunk was sent hurtling off toward the trees. It broke open and scattered clothing amongst the underbrush. Gray Unseelie wings unfurled around the carriage, draping across the windows. They were thin and patchy—the wings of a young fae who hadn’t yet reached the age of majority at fifty.

I growled in warning, and the youth cackled at me in return. He leapt into the air with a gust of wind that nearly sent the coach onto its side.

Giselle let out a trapped breath. “That was close.”

“It’s not over,” I said through gritted teeth.

A bolt of gray shot by my window. We were struck again, this time on the foreside of the Hansom.

I scooped Giselle into my arms as we went rolling. We hit the floor, then the ceiling, then the seats, then the ceiling again as the carriage toppled into a ditch. I tucked my chin, and the back of my shoulders collided with the cracked roof. Pain shot through the old wounds on my back.

Giselle let out a yelp and curled against my chest.

“Are you whole?” I demanded.