Page 47 of Tempting the Fae Lord
And yet I can’t be sorry he’s come. I don’t want to let him go. I’m petting his hair and relishing his presence when a stuttering cough comes from the mage in the corner.
We break apart.
“Don’t hurt him,” says Gale. “Please.”
I thrust a finger at the mage but focus on Gale. “He’s the reason I’ve been stuck here. He attacks me nightly with his wretched, foul armies of rot. You can’t possibly expect to demand my mercy.”
Gale moves to stand between us. “I do, though.”
Of all the frustrating entreaties he makes of me, this one has got to take the cake. “And just how do you expect me to get the answers I need without a bit of persuasion?”
“You could try asking him.”
I pinch the bridge of my nose. “Get behind me, and I’ll consider it.”
He hesitates but eventually obeys. “I don’t think he’d hurt me. I’m not even sure he can in this state.”
“Let’s not take that chance.” I study the skinny man. Boy really. He’s quite young. A few years younger than Gale, perhaps. His dark hair hangs in clumps around his sunken face. He’s awake now, but not alert. His eyes are glassy.
Gale sidles up next to me. “He’s in really bad shape, sir.”
The “sir” sounds wrong from Gale’s lips. Too formal. Though he’s addressed me by that title his whole life, I consider letting him call me Ezra.
Perhaps I could be Ezra again.
For Gale.
Ezra wouldn’t torture this mage like I want to. Torture would be easier. Faster. But the longer I stare at the boy, the less I want to hurt him. His powers might rival death herself, but his body is failing him. Half-starved and jaundiced, he makes a pathetic foe, bound and captured on the floor of this dungeon.
I turn to Gale. “All right. What do you suggest I do with him?”
He widens his eyes, brows high. “You could start by getting his name, maybe.”
I nudge the toe of the boy’s boot with mine to rouse his attention. “What are you called, kid?”
The mage blinks and focuses. He looks as if a summer breeze could knock him over. He looks terrified. “Petru.”
“All right,” I say to Gale. “Now what?”
“Erm, we could take him home with us? Eulayla will know what to do.”
“Let me get this straight. Your suggestion is to nurse him back to health? You did see what he’s capable of, yes?”
Gale shuffles from foot to foot. “But Sonja made him do it. She won’t be on the other side. Unless…”
“Unless what?”
His cringe tells me I won’t like the answer. “Well, I sort of taught her how to cross through the gate.”
Red flashes before my eyes. “You what?”
“I didn’t know who she was at the time.”
“All the more reason not to reveal sacred information about the portal.” I shoot a glance at the mage. “You. Stay.” Then to Gale. “And you. Come.”
I lock the boy in the cell and lead Gale away, far enough for us to speak without being overheard, but close enough to guard the dungeon’s exit. We end up in a small sitting room off the long hallway.
With a flick of my hand, fairy lights illuminate the stuffy chamber. Dust-covered lounges, a wooden game table, and an elegant harpsichord fill the space.
