Page 56 of The Shadow Fae Rhapsody
My heart dims with every failed cycle. The fae maintains the same intensity and pressure without tiring.
I pray to the Seventy-Seven. I pray to the Un. I pray to Death.
Let her live.
The wyvern’s raw struggle for breath filters through the air.
“Coral!”
My fractured heart beats again. I move to her side instantly. Coral coughs like a cat choking on hairballs. She trashes until she finds her way into my arms again.
“It’s me. You’re all right. I’m here,” I whisper in her ear over and over.
Her baying sound subsides as soon as she recognizes me. I thank the gods and the stars for saving her life. I turn around slowly towards her savior.
“You’re not from Tiamat or Kashran…” he muses, his voice deceptively soft. “Who are you?”
I don’t answer him.
His head moves as he studies me through the slit in his helmet, the slow motion making my heart race.
“Someone from Aelfheim…” he surmises after a while. “Perhaps you’re the so-called Valorian cultists working for your Elders. Bold of those bastards for sending you to my doorstep.”
“I am not an assassin,” I say quietly.
“But you’re an elf.” He withdraws a curved blade from his back, his movement smooth and precise. “Therefore, you must die.”
Cold fear settles in my gut. I don’t want to die. I promised Svenn I’ll come back to him.
“Why must you kill me?” I dare ask.
He turns his head and stares down at me. “You sneaked into my house, crashed my evening tea, terrorized my garden, stole my wyvern. I have every right to hunt and kill you.”
“That’s right… kill her, Master Landon,” the jester cheers, hanging up his mismatch socks in the panting to dry.
“Didn’t I tell you to shut it?” the Shadow Fae snaps, annoyance reeking his voice. He looks incline to shred the painting more than I do.
I silently thank the jester in my heart for the reminder.
“Spare me, Landon.” I call out the fae by his name. I put in as much strength as I can in that voice.
Lightning flashes at a distant, adding the effect to my command. That’s right.
There is power in a name,Jessica once said. Fae are obligated to obey you once you call them by their True Name.
“You cannot harm me or this wyvern. Turn around and leave,” I instruct.
He doesn’t say anything for a moment. Then, instead of obeying my command, his body trembles with laughter.
“You can’t seriously think that is my True Name?” He shakes his head with disbelief.
It’s not?
“Every guy who ever lived in that house over the long hill is called Landon,” he adds.
Oh.
Heat flares my cheeks. I do an abysmal job of hiding the embarrassment from my face, which only adds to his amusement.
