Page 10 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

I drew my sword and backed up closer to Calypso. After the spark of magic last time our skin made contact, I dared not distract myself by touching her. However, I had no intention of chasing a pooka all over the labyrinth as he took her for a wild ride because she gave in to his enticing allure.

The black stallion form the pooka had chosen barreled down on us, changing direction at the last moment to circle us, screaming like a frightened horse.

I moved around Calypso, keeping myself between the creature and her. “Calm yourself,” I ordered him. “Calm yourself and speak.”

The pooka tossed his head, showing us the whites of his eyes. “Ogre!” He breathed raggedly, nostrils flaring dramatically. He pawed the ground and wheeled on his back legs. “Ogre. A carnivorous ogre in that direction. Run!”

“There is nowhere to run,” Calypso informed him as she stepped around me, her attention far too fixed on the creature. “The passage comes to a dead end in that direction.”

The pooka appeared to come to his senses enough to realize she was a female. Striking a dramatic pose, he tossed his head again. “Then we are doomed.”

I snorted my disgust. “Drop the enticing glamor, fairy. I know what you are, and if you carry her off, I will hunt you down and make you wish you had never been born. I am far more powerful than any ogre. Do not test me.”

Showing the whites of his eyes again, the pooka backed up as he flattened his ears. “No harm meant, good sir. This is my fastest form. I have no designs on your lady.”

He gathered himself and in a blurring of mist and dust, he transformed into one of his only slightly less harmful forms—a human male. Tall, but not as tall as I, he boasted a physically capable form, dark hair and green eyes. Dressed like a common farmer in a coarse spun shirt with a kerchief around the neck, thickly woven cotton trousers, and heavy work boots, the pooka looked far from suave. However, he still oozed magical appeal.

“Why didn’t you stand and fight?” I asked.

“I am not armed.” He grinned sheepishly. “If I hadn’t been caught unaware when I was kidnapped, I would’ve armed myself. But, the attack being a surprise and all, here I am with only my good humor to defend myself.”

I grimaced. “Charming the ogre wasn’t an option, then?”

“Ogres aren’t my type.”

Behind me, Calypso laughed softly.

The pooka smiled smoothly at her, apparently not bothered in the least that I stood between them.

“So, you have been caught unawares twice. You must be a truly oblivious person.”

Calypso nudged me in the ribs. “What has he done to you that makes you insult him?”

“He is pooka, and you are female.”

The pooka cleared his throat. “Not all pooka live up to the reputation of our ancestors—running off with maidens and destroying crops and such. Some of us prefer a quiet life.”

I eyed him with suspicion. “And you are one of those?”

“I am.” He stated it flatly without a hint of guile about him. “I have yet to carry off a maiden, and I live on the northern edge of the Wild Woods, as far from my wilder cousins as I can get. They tend to let me be because I am boring by their standards.A high fae dressed in black appeared in my field while I was harvesting my crops. He used my true name to bind me to this labyrinth until a king breaks himself free of its bounds.”

“That sounds like the fae who put me here,” Calypso volunteered. Catching my sleeve as she had when interrupting my spell before, she asked, nodding to the pooka, “Might the fairy be able to help? The ogre sounds like a bit more than we can comfortably handle on our own.”

I groaned inwardly. I didn’t want to share her company, but she did have a point. Ogres, though often dull of intellect, were also tenacious—especially when hungry. If the ogre had been chasing down a pooka, it was more than a little peckish.

“Very well, pooka.” I sheathed my sword. “I need your sworn word that you will not betray us.”

“Only if you give yours in return, high fae. Your kind don’t exactly have a good reputation among my people either.” He offered his open right hand. “Bond of mutual need?”

“Aye.” I stepped forward, tapping into my magic as little as possible. Hoping I didn’t trigger the curse, I began the fae words of the bond as I clasped his forearm. The pooka mimicked my motions, his magic rising fast and powerful to meet mine. Together, we swore mutual protection and fidelity—a bond that I suspected neither of us felt. However, we knew that the pact would keep us honest.

Despite my hopes, the magic drain was too much. The curse triggered. I barely had time to finish the last phrase of the oath and release him before my curse flared.

I staggered away from him, gritting my teeth against the pain as my portal magic attempted to transport me in three directions at once. Sparks burst across my closed eyelids. The physical strain of my body being torn apart into tiny fragments and then smashed together at least a dozen times a secondripped through me. It took all of my focus to prevent my transportation away from my companions.

Then, as suddenly as the episode began, it stopped.

Dropping to my hands and knees, I struggled to breathe with lungs that moments before had been scattered in three different directions. My lungs burned as though they had been perforated by millions of shards of glass. I wheezed painfully, and black dots threatened to overcome my vision.

---