Page 15 of A Fae in Finance
“This is ridiculous,” Jeff said. “We’re bringing you progress. And your lands are just the inside of Central Park, which isn’t yours.”
I slouched down. Maybe no one would notice I was a human.
The nymph turned to the Princeling, as if to sayWell?He looked around the table again, at his people. No one looked pleased.
I wasn’t an expert in faerie politics, but this altercation appeared not to have gone his way.
“Jeff, your presence at this meal has illuminated for me many things. I excuse you.”
The nymph, message delivered, turned and sauntered back into the darkness.
Next to me the Gray Knight stood. I stood as well.
“Not you, Miriam Geld.”
“I—what?” I put my hands on the table. Glanced at Sahir, who was staring at the Princeling. “I thank you for your hospitality, my lord, but I must leave with Jeff.”
Two horses appeared over a ridge, their hooves clacking on the stone embedded in the hill. Neither was Sparkles.
The Princeling shrugged, still slouched across the arm of his chair, his wings dangling beneath him. “You partook of our food and will remain in our lands.”
“Sorry?” I asked, my hands convulsing on the wood. I could feel twelve sets of eyes on me, strange alien eyes. My heart began to thump rapidly.
“You consumed faerie food, Lady of the True Dreams.You are ours.”
My body locked up, and I took stock of myself: no new sensations, nothing out of the ordinary beyond a panicked emptiness growing in my stomach.
“No I didn’t! I had a grain bowl, for fuck’s sake,” I said. This was perhaps not my proudest moment. I looked at Jeff, my eyes watering. “Jeff, tell him—”
I couldn’t believe I’d eaten the food—I’dknown better. There was asubway educational campaign.
“Look,” Jeff said, turning to the Princeling, “you can’t take her, she’s the only junior on our deal team.”
The Princeling raised an eyebrow. “You will fulfill the terms of our bargain, Jeff. You will complete our transaction.” He didn’t move otherwise. A small part of my brain felt immense envy at the menacing way he lounged.
Jeff held his hands up in a placating gesture. “Yes, but it would be easier with Miri.”
Thiswas his argument?
“She is ours.”
Faeries couldn’t lie.
I stared around the table and saw a dozen strange faces grinning back at me. So this was the play, then. This was the power move, and I was the pawn.
“Jeff, please,” I said, and my voice cracked.
“Miri didn’t eat your food,” Jeff said, staring at the Princeling. “She had a, what was it, a grain bowl. You didn’t eat anything else, right, Miri?” He sounded bored and annoyed.
“What? No, of course not.”
Jeff shrugged. “I don’t know. You like snacks. You eat a lot of those—what are they called? The corn chips.”
I gaped at him.
“Tortillas?” one of the faeries at the table asked, a man with wings so white they glowed against the night sky. Everyone turned to stare at him, and he shrank in on himself. “They’re called tortilla chips,” he said, doubling down even as his chin dipped. “Do you like go-hawk-a-molo?” he continued, directing this question at me.
The emotion I felt at this moment has no name.
