Page 5 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

Then he squatted down and his flame followed him. A moment later, the glimmer dropped.

He stood again. This time, the timing was more instantaneous.

“That was odd,” I commented.

Instead of answering, the fae started attempting a spell. Magic flared fitfully around him, sending out electric tingles that made the hair on my arms stand on end. I stepped back to give him room to work.

“No. Stay right where you are,” he ordered. Then, from a pocket of nothing, he pulled forth a sword. The blade glowed and hummed as he whipped it around. Stepping in front of me, he took up a defensive position, facing the strange glimmer. “Reveal yourself, mimick!”

Compulsion magic flowed from him. I stepped back anxiously before I realized it wasn’t directed at me. To my astonishment, he stepped backward with me.

“Stay close behind me,” he ordered in a low voice without turning his narrowed gaze from studying the darkness. “Mimicks are dangerous creatures. Don’t underestimate them just because they’re small. They prey on the uninitiated’s softer sensibilities.”

“What do they look like?” I asked, scanning the tunnel ahead. The glow had disappeared. A squeak came from the darkness. A small gray mouse skittered out into the open space. It stopped just short of the brightest ring of our circle of light, settled back on its haunches, and began furiously cleaning its whiskers.

My companion glared down at it. “I know what you are. Face your fate with dignity. You have not caused us harm yet, and there is still an opportunity for me to extend mercy.”

The mouse lifted its nose and sniffed the air.

“Are you sure it is a mimick?” I asked. I wasn’t a fan of mice, but killing one out of hand…

The mouse suddenly dashed across the dirt floor toward our feet. My companion muttered something under his breath, jostling me backward in an effort to keep between me and the creature. I stumbled and fell, landing hard next to his booted foot.

In a flashy puff of magic, the rodent transformed into a viper and lunged at my exposed ankle, fangs out and ready to bite. I shrieked and tried to pulled my leg in toward my body, but before I moved my heel an inch, the fae severed the creature in two. His glowing sword stopped mere inches from my leg.

“Still think it is an innocent mouse?” he asked as he kicked the snake halves away from me.

“No.” I clambered to my feet, trying to compensate for my wobbly knees. “Whatever that was, it was not just a mouse.” I shivered. “Thank you for the intervention.”

He paused in the midst of wiping the creature’s blood off his sword to regard me contemplatively. “Not what you expected a fae to do?”

“Not the fae that put me in this…” I motioned to the corridor. “Whatever this is.”

“A labyrinth.” He grimaced. “The Unseelie king is getting unusually creative all of a sudden.”

“But why? Why you? Why me?” I frowned into the darkness. “And how can we get out?”

“I can answer some of those questions, but not all of them.” Fiddling with the spell he had used before, the fae somehow produced a sword belt, complete with a sheath. “Would you hold this while I strap on the belt?” he asked. Resting the tip of his sword on the dirt between my bare feet, he handed me the hilt.

I reached out to take it, only hesitating once he had let go. The leather grip between my hands hummed with magic, radiating warmth up my arms, as though I held a living thing, not a sword. “Are you sure you trust me with this?”

The sword was almost taller than I was. The hilt came level with my eyes.

He lifted his head while buckling the belt around his waist. “Why wouldn’t I?” he asked mildly. “If you kill me, my light disappears with me. Unless you’ve changed your mind about being alone in the darkness?”

“No.” And I suspected the sarcastic fae knew it. “But if I tried?”

“Vorpalus won’t let you.”

“Who?”

He nodded toward the gigantic weapon I was holding. “My sword. It wouldn’t cooperate. A weapon that has allied itself to a fae tends to not work with anyone else. There are some rare exceptions.”

“Allied?” I eyed the weapon in my hands. “You speak as though the sword were sentient.”

“In a way, it is. It acts as though it were, but it also isn’t.”

“That was as clear as a stagnant pond.”

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