Page 11 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Calypso’s soft query wove through the pain as she knelt beside me.

On my other side, the pooka approached and loomed over me. “Portal magic?” His tone sounded far too innocent to be benign.

I shoved myself into a seated position and glared up at him. “What do you mean by that?” I demanded with far less force than I wished.

He raised his eyebrows and attempted an expression of harmlessness. “Only that portal magic is rare. I have only heard of one fae in generations possessing such a skill.”

I glared at him. The last thing I needed was for Calypso to discover who I was. The terms of breaking the curse were vague enough that I feared taking a wrong step now that I had gotten so close to breaking it.

“We all have secrets here, pooka. Best we don’t explore them too deeply, or we might harm our chances of getting out of here.” The wheeze making my voice falter undermined any impression of strength on my part, but it didn’t make me any less dangerous.

The pooka might be flirty and charming, but apparently, he wasn’t a fool because he shut his mouth.

Calypso edged around behind me, staring wide-eyed into the darkness. “Um, I think the ogre has found us.”

The pooka swore and spun around, changing into a black stallion mid-turn.

The ogre, an enormous creature who towered to at least a dozen feet tall, approached from the far end of the passage. He carried a flaming torch. The reek of the flame reached us before his personal body odor.

Behind me, Calypso sneezed and then gagged.

I reached for the storage spell. “Weapon preference?” I asked the pooka.

“Bow and arrows if you have them.”

I rolled my eyes. “Can you handle a short sword?”

“Well enough for this task,” he replied.

I amazingly didn’t fumble the spell and found the odd weapon I kept in there constantly as a backup.

“Here.” I tossed it to him.

The pooka transformed back into his human form just in time to catch it. Then the pair of us turned to face the monster who was sniffing the air in our direction. The ogre’s eyes squinted at me.

Calypso moved closer to me as the creature started for us. “Stay—”

“I know,” she whispered. “Stay behind you.”

“Ogres are notoriously shortsighted. If something happens to us, find the smelliest thing nearby, make yourself small next to it, and don’t move. There’s a chance it will overlook you and move on.”

“He’s coming!” the pooka called as he moved away from us, effectively drawing the creature’s focus to him.

“Ogres’ weak spots are the back of their knees, beneath their arms, and the back of their necks,” I pointed out as I drew my sword.

“Ugh!” Calypso gagged behind me. “What did he do? Roll in rotting carcasses?”

“Most likely.” The pooka tugged the cloth around his neck up over his nose.

“Why?”

Four

Calypso

I never got an answer.

“I’ll be the bait,” the pooka volunteered as he moved to the right. “This way, you big blob of lard!” He flashed an eye-catching spell toward that ogre that produced a cloud of sparkles.

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