Seraiah swallowed hard, but did not respond.

“I will give you the information you seek,” the Summer King said slowly, “but only you, seer, will be able to see it.” He cackled at his own joke. “Yes, yes.” He scrubbed his hands together. “I will give you a vision of your precious queen.”

Seraiah waited. She knew there would be something he wanted in return, and that was what she was dreading.

“But you must do something for me,” he continued.

She caught a glimpse of Kestrel out of the corner of her eye, looking ready to protest. Kestrel had promised Kai she would keep Seraiah out of this, but Seraiah knew there was nothing Kestrel could do or say now. It was too late.

Much too late.

“I hear the dragons are shedding their scales this time of year. I would love to possess one of those beauties. A golden one.” His eyes lit up with delight. “Yes, seer, bring me a golden dragon scale, and I will give you your vision.”

“No,” Kestrel spoke for the first time. The minute the word left Kestrel’s mouth, Seraiah knew it was a mistake.

The Summer King whirled on her. “No one asked for your opinion, elf.”

He turned back to Seraiah. “Let’s make this more interesting, shall we? Bring me the dragon scale, and I will give you the vision and your friends back.”

“And if I refuse?” she asked nervously. Kestrel had said they didn’t have to accept any deals. They could walk away. She knew it would be safer for all of them if she declined, and they tried to seek the information elsewhere.

“And if you refuse . . . you and your elf friends will remain here with me, as my honored guests.”

He did not need to add the forever part. Seraiah understood he had no intention of letting them go.

“Think carefully, seer. Enjoy my court for the night and give me an answer in the morning.”

If they could slip away, maybe they could get back to Nyrene before anyone noticed they were missing.

“Don’t even think about it, human. You would never make it.”

Kestrel bowed. “Your Majesty, thank you for your hospitality.” She spoke as though they had been having a pleasant chat about the weather, and he had invited them to stay for tea—as though he hadn’t just given them a death sentence.

The others bowed as well, and Seraiah forced herself to bend at the waist before Kestrel grabbed her arm and pulled her away. She led their group off the dais and back into the revelers.

The music was no longer pulling Seraiah to dance.

They followed Kestrel over to the edge of the circle, into the shadow of a building. “This was a mistake,” Kestrel hissed when they were hidden. “We shouldn’t have come here when we don’t have enough leverage to use for bargaining. I was hoping they wouldn’t know how desperate we were, but of course, they did.”

“Well, it’s not like we can leave now,” Seraiah said. “The second I thought about it, he knew like he’d read my mind.”

Kestrel snorted. “He can’t read minds. He only wants you to think he can.”

“Then how did he know I was trying to think of ways out of here?”

Kestrel folded her arms over her chest and leaned back against the side of the building. Her eyes roved over the dancing crowd. “He’s lived an incredibly long time and knows how to read people. We might think we’re unique, but he knows better. It’s why he’s difficult to bargain with. He can play the game far more successfully than we could ever dream of.”

Seraiah had known all this before she’d agreed to come, and yet she’d still hoped that Kestrel could outmaneuver him. “So what are we going to do?” she asked.

“You’re going to accept.”

Before she could protest, Kestrel continued, “We do not have a choice. If you accept, we at least have a chance of leaving here with the information we need.”

They both knew it was a very slim chance. Seraiah knew next to nothing about the world she was in. She didn’t have the slightest idea where to find a dragon. And if the faery king couldn’t get a dragon scale himself, how was she, a human, supposed to retrieve one?

“Maybe I could go back to Nyrene and get some help,” she suggested.

Kestrel was already shaking her head. “They aren’t going to allow you to go back to Nyrene. You’re going to have to do this on your own. You wanted to come here even knowing what might happen. Now you must deal with the consequences of that choice.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Well, I hope you like the Seelie Court because this will be your new forever home.” Seraiah did not miss the hopeless looks on the others’ faces at her words. It hadn’t been their choice to be dragged into this. They’d only been doing their job as they’d been ordered.

Kestrel grabbed her shoulders and shook her hard. “Listen to me. You can do this. There are others who will be willing to help you. The faeries might block any help from the elves, but they will not limit anyone else. Seek out those who will help you—who would help Sterling. You can and you will do this. Not only Sterling’s life is at stake. Remember the failing portals? Think about the family and friends you left behind in Ratha. They need you to do this. They need you to protect them from this.” She gestured to the dancing fae.

Kestrel had likely meant her speech to be encouraging, but it was anything but. The weight of responsibility settled heavily on Seraiah’s shoulders. Was this what Kai felt like taking care of Nyrene? She did not envy him.

“I will do it,” she said. “But what about you? What will you do while I am out there?”

“The only thing we can do,” Kestrel said. “Stay here and try not to piss off the faeries and maybe get some intel of our own while we are here.”

A faery girl passed by them with a tray of drinks, holding it out in offer. Kestrel picked one up. The liquid in the glass sparkled as she took a small sip of it.

“I thought you said we weren’t supposed to eat or drink anything while we were here?”

“It doesn’t matter for us anymore. We are stuck here unless you get that scale. Try this.” She held the glass out.

For a moment, Seraiah had a flashback to Eostre and her vow to never take drinks from Kestrel again.

But that was before I knew I’d be playing a faery game and likely about to die. One little sip couldn’t hurt anything.

To her surprise, the drink was warm and slid easily down her throat.

“Like liquid sunlight,” Kestrel said. “It’s extremely addicting, and the Summer King is the only one who has it.”

Seraiah quickly passed the drink back to Kestrel, resisting the urge to take another sip of the golden elixir. Kestrel polished it off and deposited the glass on another server’s tray as they passed by.

“Feel like dancing?”

Seraiah shook her head. “I just want to be away from here.”

“Soon you will be.” Kestrel gave her a small smile, but there was a hint of sadness in her eyes. Maybe Kestrel wasn’t as confident in her abilities as she had wanted Seraiah to believe.

“One dance for old times’ sake, and then we will go find the rooms the Summer King has granted us.”

Seraiah knew Kestrel was only trying to distract her, so she allowed Kestrel to pull her into the swirling bodies.

They danced for half of the night, and Seraiah was exhausted by the time they retired to their designated room.

The smart thing to do would have been to make sure she was well rested for whatever came tomorrow, but there was no way she would have been able to sleep.

Kestrel flopped face down onto one of the small beds in their shared room. It was a simple room—very similar in style to the one they’d shared at the inn in Baromund. Seraiah was just glad she would not be alone.

Sitting down on the edge of the other bed, she tugged off her boots. By the time she had them off, Kestrel was sound asleep. Picking up the blanket from the foot of the bed, Seraiah laid it over Kestrel, tucking her in, before crawling into her own bed.

----------------------------------------

Morning arrived much too quickly.

A loud banging on their door roused Seraiah from sleep. It had been such a lovely, deep, dreamless sleep, and it took a moment for her to remember where she was.

Kestrel stumbled out of bed and opened the door to reveal Maescia. The young faery skirted around Kestrel and entered the room.

“It is time for your decision, seer. The Summer King is waiting,” Maescia said, staring at Seraiah with those cat-like eyes. “Oh, yes. We are all waiting.”

“Can you give us a moment to get presentable?” Kestrel asked, still holding the door open.

Maescia huffed. “You have a moment. I must retrieve your companions as well. When I return, you will be ready.”

It was not a question.

They stayed silent as she skipped from the room, and Kestrel shut the door behind her.

“Must be nice to be a faery who can dance all night and look fresh in the morning,” Kestrel grumbled, patting down her hair where it was sticking up from the back of her head.

Seraiah would have said the same thing about Kestrel. This was the first time she had seen her look anything less than perfect.

She pulled herself out of bed and shoved her feet back in her boots. Finger-combing her hair, she re-braided it as best she could. She was finishing up when another knock sounded on the door.

Before either of them could answer, the door swung open and Maescia came in. “Your time is up,” she announced. “Up, up, up. Let’s go.”

Seraiah could see the other two elves over her shoulder. They looked as tired as she felt.

“We’re coming,” Kestrel grumbled at the faery.

Maescia led them back to the same courtyard they had been in last night. Now, however, there was no music or dancing, but all the faeries were still there. Maescia hadn’t been jesting when she’d said they were waiting. The faeries circled the throne at the center where the Summer King lounged, waiting for them—waiting for her.

“So, seer, what will your answer be?” he asked, as they approached the throne. “Will you play our game?”

Seraiah cast a glance at Kestrel—her mouth set into an unhappy line—before looking back at the King.

“Yes,” she said, “I will play your game.”

The crowd of faeries watching the exchange erupted into cheers after Seraiah gave her answer. A wide grin spread across the Summer King’s face as he regarded her, and she could see that Maescia was also smiling at her response, putting her pointy teeth on full display.

“Excellent,” the King crowed, sitting up straighter on his throne. “I knew you were smarter than the average human. Pity I might not get to keep you.”

He snapped his fingers, and another faery appeared holding a small vial, which he swiftly handed over to the King.

“Drink this,” the King commanded, holding out the vial to her.

Seraiah hesitated a moment, looking to Kestrel again for guidance, but Kestrel appeared as lost as she felt.

Seraiah accepted the vial, careful not to brush the King’s hand with her own. Her skin still burned where he had touched it the evening before.

The vial was small, no larger than her thumb, and filled with a bright blue liquid.

“Drink it,” the Summer King said again, leaning towards her eagerly, “and let the game begin.”

The crowd chanted behind her as Seraiah uncorked the vial, brought it to her lips, and downed the contents.