Curse of the Fae (PA #3)

Prologue

Darragh, Millenia Ago

"Hestia!"

There's no response but the whistle of wind between the overgrown weeds. My best friend hides from me, traces of her presence in the flattened grasses before me and the woodsy scent in the air.

I cup my hands around my mouth, raising my voice ever higher. "Hestia, where are you?"

She's here.

She's close.

Still, she hides.

Our time is limited as is, so wasting precious minutes searching for her is mildly annoying. I have an hour at best before my mother will notice my absence.

As an Unseelie, maintaining a friendship with the Seelie princess is a game of risk. Especially this princess, the youngest of six children and the most guarded member of the royal family.

Hestia spends most of her days cooped up in her castle. She sneaks away for our meetings, usually locking her room and escaping through the window.

She doesn't fear death, and I suppose that makes her reckless.

The faint sound of stifled breathing redirects my course. I veer to the right, stomping through the underbrush until a Hestia-shaped pink lump comes into sight.

Her hand covers her mouth as the corners of her eyes crinkle with her happiness. It's difficult to affect a disgruntled mien when she looks at me like that.

Uncovering her lips, she greets me with a joyous hello.

"Why didn't you answer me when I called for you?"

"I was testing your tracking skills."

My arms cross. "Hestia."

"Darragh," she replies, matching my no-nonsense tone before smiling once more. "Sorry. But it's good to know I'll never be lost as long as you're around."

"Am I meant to be a compass?"

"And I'm your true north," she says, laughing as though it's untrue.

The sound trickles out when I don't join in, but she's used to being the sunshine in our duo. I'm the blood moon, existing only when she shines her brilliance upon me.

I squat down to be at her level.

Her eyes are alight with mischief and secrets. The former is expected but the latter is not. We don't keep things from each other.

She knows every minute detail of my life, and I can say the same for her. No thought is too big or too small to be shared when it's just the two of us.

"I'm planting these seeds," she confides, holding up a hemp sack the size of her head. It obscures her from view until she lowers it back to the ground.

"Did you steal those from Demeter?"

Hestia places a finger over my lips, and I ignore the responding tingles as I always do. "Shh, Dar. Stealing is a crime. Borrowing is perfectly acceptable. I borrowed these from my sister."

"Is she aware of this so-called borrowing?"

"The light elf that's courting her—you remember me telling you about him? This was part of his latest gift to her, and Dad says that I should get a portion of whatever my siblings receive because you know, so I guess I didn't really borrow these seeds either. I just took what was already mine."

You know.

She says it so nonchalantly.

I do know.