Page 113 of A Fae in Finance
“Now imagine stepping through a doorwayintothe vacuum of space, and seeing in the far distance another doorway, which will bring you home if you can reach it.”
“Oh,” I said. I stared at my own knees. “I don’t get it.”
“Faerie food is a manifestation of faerie magic, and its consumption destabilizes…” He trailed off, presumably regretting his life choices. “It does not matter, child. I will not explain the biochemistry to you.”
“Well, it kind of does matter,” I said, but he spoke over me.
“I speak truly, and with the knowledge of my father and his father, and the magic of the moon in my blood,” Roman said, staring into my face. His features had taken on a noble cast, stronger and sterner. “If you stepped through a portal, you would not die.”
I couldn’t breathe. I could hardly hear over the rushing in my ears.
“I wouldn’t be bone shards and blood mist?”
“You would not,” he agreed, sage and serene. “You would emerge whole, and could enter and exit Faerie at will.”
“Is this all?” Sahir asked, coldly. “Is this your answer? There is no explanation. There is noproof.”
Roman didn’t look at Sahir. “I owe him no answers,” he said, twirling my ring between his fingers. “But I will tell you this. Faerie will call to your blood.”
Ominous.I shrank inward.
Luckily, I didn’t have to reply, because Sahir was full of indignation.
“Why do you speak in these riddles?” he growled. “Why do you not tell us plainly?”
“I do not owe anyone my allegiance,” snapped the Builder.
“Why will Faerie call to my blood?” I asked, my voice thin and weak.
“It calls to the blood of anyone who consumes Fae magic,” he said with a disinterested shrug.
I wanted to let it go; he clearly wanted to be done talking. But I also didn’t want to traipse through a portal without a little bit more information.
“How do you know I won’t die?”
For a long moment it seemed as though he wouldn’t answer. The Builder stared down at me with implacable, pitiless eyes and an expression as carved as the stone around us.
But then Roman held the ring out in the palm of his hand, as precious as water. “This is a wedding band, child,” he said. “A wedding band my father made. If the women of your line wore it, then a man of your line must have gifted it.” He made a strange noise, almost strangled.
Sahir whipped to his feet like a ballerina in a music box. I’d seen Draculas rise from their coffins with more knee action than that. He clenched his fists, looming over Roman. “You risk her life onconjecture,” Sahir exclaimed, looking ready to perform a murder.
In a stroke of good fortune, the Queen’s soldiers chose this moment to burst through the spaces between the jagged pillars.
Chapter 18
In Which I Am Royally Screwed
Twelve soldiers in crimson jackets surrounded us. Sahir stepped in front of me. I covered my head with my arms.
“Getup,” someone said above us. I rolled my eyes up to the extent possible without moving but only saw a knee.
“Miri, get up,” Sahir said, slightly less rudely than the attacking soldiers.
I stood, staying behind him. This only mattered for those soldiers in front of us; there were still six at our backs.
The soldiers had found Gaheris and Lene. I knew this because Gaheris and Lene stood between two soldiers, their hands in the air, their packs on the ground, and their expressions more resigned than afraid.
I stared into the snake eyes of Kamare, my would-be poisoner. She was flanked by two other faeries, each of them wearing crimson clothing.
