Page 8 of The Fae King's Labyrinth

“What was that?”

“The curse.” Azulin rolled into a seated position and rested his elbows on his raised knees, letting his head hang between them. A thick cluster of curling hair fell forward, obscuring his features. “The Unseelie king cursed me years ago, and each full moon, he compels my magic to drag me to a place where I am trapped for three nights. Usually, I am forced to ride in the Wild Hunt. He appears to be getting more creative.” He waved a hand limply at our surroundings.

Azulin groaned and rubbed his forehead, pushing his hair aside. A few stray strands persisted in curling across his brow. “If that was the only aspect of the curse, it would be tolerable. But the curse also plays havoc with my magic. It turns more volatile and uncontrollable as the moon waxes and then as the moon wanes so does the curse. Each cycle, the curse grows slightly stronger.”

“How? How can he do this?” I demanded.

He regarded me grimly. “He used my name.”

“Azulin?”

“No, my full, true name.” He grimaced. “Like a fool, I trusted someone, and they betrayed me.”

My chest ached for him. I knew how betrayal felt. “My childhood best friend did something like that to me. Such betrayal hurts.”

Amusement glinted in his eyes. “They stole your name?”

“No.” My face heated beneath his regard. Why had I shared that bit of information with him? Now I would have to explain. “We were to marry when we came of age. But when all the others shifted and I was unable, he married my sister instead.”

I rose and brushed off my kirtle. I didn’t want to see his pity.

“Why?” Azulin gained his feet with far less grace than before, turning toward his discarded cloak.

“Why what?” I asked. “I can’t shift. It simply is.”

Azulin paused and turned to frown at me. “It isn’t as simple as that. You have plenty of the right kind of magic, and as far as I can sense, there is nothing stopping you.”

I shrugged, trying to deny the growing pit in my stomach. It wasn’t as though I hadn’t tried to prove myself in the past decade of shame. However, no matter how I tried, I couldn’t shift.

“The elders refused to explain. Supposedly, those like me usually don’t have any detectable magic, yet I have plenty of it.” More than any other shifter in my generation, or so my parents had been told.

To my great relief, Azulin seemed to accept this and turned away once more to collect the cloak.

“Shall we continue onward?” I asked, staring into the heavy curtain of darkness ahead.

Azulin shook out the cloak. “We have little choice. This was for you.” He dropped the garment over my shoulders, engulfing me in cloth.

I stumbled beneath the weight as he walked past me. “This is too large,” I protested. “Besides, I will get it dirty.”

He looked back over his shoulder, arching his eyebrows at me. “It will keep you warm and quiet your teeth chattering.”

“My teeth weren’t chattering.” I tried to suppress a shiver.

“Keep up or you will be left in the dark.”

Gathering the front of the cloak so I wouldn’t trip on it, I let the rest drag on the ground. It served him right for forcing it on me. Then I hurried to catch up.

“So, what do I call you?” he asked when I caught up with his long strides. “Don’t give me your true name, though. We don’t know who might be listening.” He motioned to our surroundings.

“I am not sure what my true name is, so that won’t be a possibility. You can call me Calypso.” Managing the yards of unwieldy fabric distracted me, so his amused chuckle caught me by surprise.

“How appropriate.”

“Why?” I narrowed my gaze at him. “It is the name my parents gave me.”

“Do you know what Calypso means?” he asked.

“No.”

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