Page 5 of Ties of Bargains

Whatever Father had in mind, Harm wasn’t going to protest.

Harm strode the two steps to his father, even as his father stepped to him and, inexplicably, embraced him.

He stiffened, his arms at his sides. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been hugged. Grown men didn’t hug. Women didn’t even hug all that often. Tulpenlanders simply weren’t the type.

As his father leaned close, as if to share a few parting, emotional words, he whispered, “There’s an iron knife tucked into the back of my belt.”

Harm hesitated only a heartbeat before he brought his arms around his father as if to return the embrace. Trying to keep his movements slight, he patted his father’s back until his hand closed on the knife. As he pulled it free, he could feel straps for securing it to an arm or a leg, if he had the chance.

For now, he simply had to hide it as best he could.She’d already searched him, so hopefully she wouldn’t think to search him again.

Harm stuffed the knife up the sleeve of his coat, tucking the hilt into the seam at the end of his sleeve to hold it there as best he could. With a pat to his father’s back, he stepped out of the hug. “Look after Gijs. I will come back as quickly as I can.”

Father slid his hands free, as if reluctant to let Harm go to the fate that awaited him in the land of thefeeënvolk. He didn’t sayI’m sorry for trading you to thefeeënvolk.NorI love you. Instead, it was a stiff, “Take care of yourself.” But that meant the same thing.

Harm faced thefeeënwoman again and strode toward her, his heart hammering in his throat as he was all too aware of the iron knife up his sleeve. “All right. I’m ready to go.”

“Hold out your arm.” She gripped the shimmering, roughly ten-foot long cord in both of her hands.

She knew about the knife. Heart roaring, Harm held out his other arm, the one not hiding the knife.

Instead of ordering him to reveal the knife, she slipped the loop at the end of the cord over his hand and pulled the slip knot tight around his wrist. It didn’t seem like a secure way to tie his hands—he could simply loosen the knot and slide his hand free—but he wasn’t going to argue with her.

With a glance at him, she stuck her hand through the loop on the other end of the cord and pulled it tight.

In a flash, the cord became more transparent, though it still appeared as a string of sparkling moonlight running between them.

“What—” Harm stumbled back, staring at his wrist. When he moved his arm, the soft fibers of the cord rubbed against his skin, even though it didn’t look so much like a rope anymore.

“Come.” She spun on her heel and snapped her fingers.

Harm picked up his pack, swung it onto his back, and trotted to join her.

As he reached her side, she gave him a glare. “I wasn’t talking to you.” She patted the top of her dog’s head before she held up her wrist with the tether. “I haveyouon a leash.”

In other words, her dog had more freedom of will—and thus the need for a command—than he did right now.

So that was how it was going to be. Harm forced himself to merely grin back at her. The most annoying thing he could do was give her a dose of his Tulpenlander cheer. “I see. Your dog must be very well trained.”

“Yes, she is.” Thefeeënwarrior shot Harm another sweeping glare. “I have yet to see how well trained you are.”

Ouch. She left no doubt where he stood with her.

She strode straight toward the still glowing silver circle inside the white tulips, her dog trotting faithfully at her side.

Harm cast one last glance over his shoulder at his father, taking in his lined face, the agony in his eyes, the slump to his shoulders, before the cord tightened around Harm’s wrist and he was yanked into thefeeëncircle.

Chapter Three

Valeria of the Wild Hunt had been saddled with a puppy.

Not her dog Daisy. No, Daisy was a mostly mannerly, somewhat trained, useful kind of dog.

No, the puppy trotting at her side was the far-too-pleasant, naïve kind of puppy that made one rather sorry when one had to kick him. Not that she ever kicked actual dogs. But people puppies? She was a fae mercenary; she kicked those all the time. It was just part of the job, and she did her best not to feel too guilty about it. But occasionally there came along a puppy that made her just the tiniest bit sorry for what she had to do.

Val rested a hand on Daisy’s back as the two of them stepped into the faerie circle. The whirling disorientation of walking between the realms tore at Val, and she would have struggled far more to move, much less breathe, if she hadn’t been touching the fae dog.Animals had an easier time moving between the realms than people did.

Before she could drag in a breath, she and Daisy popped out onto the other side, the warmth and magic of the Fae Realm closing around her with a familiar weight after the strange, magicless feel of the Human Realm.