Page 81 of A Lady’s Guide to Fae Kings

Chapter Twenty-One

Three women approached them through the bog, veils of white secured over their faces by circlets of lilies. The lace floated around them, and the perfume from the flowers covered the scent of green things rotting under the water. Pippa had to call back her moth, who had already drifted closer. She wanted to follow.

“The Lily Maids,” Lachlan said grimly.

“And the Owl King, the Owl King,” the first Maid sang in her light, clear voice. “Come to hear us sing.”

“No.” Lachlan’s jaw clenched. Pippa swallowed nervously. He had taken on a firebird and a Jenny Greenteeth with barely a blink of an eye.

It did not bode well.

“Come closer, word eater,” the second Maid murmured. “Thorn Queen, Owl Queen, choosing to be unseen.”

“The rhyming is unnerving,” Pippa whispered to Lachlan. “As is the fact that I cannot seem to move my feet unless it’s toward them.”

Lachlan reached for her hand. “They’ll pull you under.”

“Well, I didn’t think they wanted to analyze poetry,” she said.

“Oh, I like her, sisters, I like her,” the third Maid sang. “I think I’ll keep her.”

“Like hell,” Lachlan said.

“We only want to pass through to the bridge,” Pippa said. “We mean you no harm.”

The Lily Maids laughed as one. The bright, sparkling sound sent a shiver down her spine. Her fire turned to banked embers, equally uninterested in being drowned. Pippa had never feared the water before.

She feared it now.

The Lily Maids had made no threats, and offered no violence, but every part of her wanted to run. Her leg muscles twitched. Her joints ached, pressing against invisible chains.

“A word and a sword.” The first Maid was singing again. “First you must choose, which fire will you lose?”

Lachlan tensed. “Leave her be.”

The Lily Maids drew closer, pale petals drifting down, down, down. “You first, then, Owl and Thorn, Owl and Thorn. The red book or the red ribbon? Which will you choose?”

He barked out a laugh. “Is that all you’ve got? I choose her.”

Some of the invisible chains drawing Pippa toward the water loosened.

The Lily Maids turned to her. Pale green eyes glinted behind their veils. “If you leave him to us, we can chain your magic, push him in, quick, quick!”

Pippa did not find their singing so beautiful anymore. “I am not murdering him!”

“Pity, pity, but we’ll wait, and you’ll see.” Their voices changed, darkened, scraped like claws. “You’ll see.”

The visions hit her at once, just like being pulled under the water.

She was in the Library, wearing the pin of a Head Librarian. It was familiar. Home. Shelves lined with books and carefully rolled scrolls, the statues looking on. The demanding ghosts. The vanilla smell of paper. Her carefully curated life. One she loved and missed, the way a sunflower would miss the sun.

She wielded fire, confidently, easily. Not a single page smoldered. Not a single book cover crisped. She was a matchstick, a candle, a wick. She was in control.

“Give up, give up, take your bow, and we’ll give you everything you want right now.”

She didn’t need a Faery wish. She could have it all. Right here and right now.

“Drown the king, drown the king.”