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Authors: A.G. Stewart
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grabbed a photo in its frame from the wall, and transformed it into a stone. I tossed it straight at Maarten’s head.
A stone was too dissimilar from the photo for it to keep its form. It shattered against his skull, tiny bits of stone raining onto the carpet. From the dazed look in Maarten’s eye, it had still stunned him.
“Nicole!” Anwynn called out. “Behind you.”
I turned my head and saw, from the corner of my eye, two approaching sprites. They barreled into my back, little swords stabbing. “Anwynn,” I managed, trying to grab them with my injured arm, “I give you full permission to eat them.”
“Good,” she said. “I already ate two.”
And then Maarten had regained his composure. He sliced at me, forcing me back toward the wall. I grimaced as the sprites climbed over my back, stabbing as they went, as though I were a piece of land they needed to claim by planting as many sharp, pointy flags as possible.
I leapt from the console, ducking into a roll. The gash in my shoulder burned, but I felt the crunch as I managed to crush one of the sprites beneath me. The other one darted free in time. “Anwynn, could use some help here!”
“A bit busy at the moment,” she said. She turned in circles in the kitchen, trying to catch a sprite that had latched onto her tail.
Maarten strode forward with easy determination, his cloak billowing behind him. My living room was a mess of overturned objects, little spatters of blood, and broken glass. Those goddamned sprites had ransacked my place, and in near-record time.
I lifted my sword, ready to face him. And then I felt, more than saw, the remaining sprite fall into my pocket.
The pocket where I had the kelpie heart.
I reached into the pocket without thinking and immediately felt a needle-sword entering my palm, almost exactly where the other one had stabbed me earlier. I hissed with pain.
When I drew my hand out, it had a sprite attached to it. The sprite had its arm tucked around a small, brown stone. The heart. I shook my hand, and the sprite tumbled free, but she did not let go of the heart.
I couldn’t see Maarten’s mouth behind the scarf, but I knew that he smiled by the way his eyes crinkled. I leapt forward. “You are such an asshole!”
My blade caught the scarf again, and this time, it tore free.
The face beneath was not scarred or marred in any way. It was smooth, beautiful, with full lips and a strong, narrow jaw. It looked oddly familiar, though I could not place it. A drop of blood beaded at the corner of his mouth where I’d caught him with the point of my sword.
“You’re not Maarten of the Daelus family,” I said.
He reached up and wiped the blood from his mouth, a smirk beginning at the corners. “I never said that I was.”
His three remaining sprites flew to his sides.
We stared at one another for a moment, and then he darted toward the open doorway of the garage.
“Anwynn!” She’d already started moving by the time I called her name. She leapt for the sprite with the heart. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Her jaws snapped shut on empty air as the sprite shot up to avoid her.
The Sidhe man pulled something from inside his cloak, whirled, and threw.
I didn’t see the knife hit Anwynn; I only saw her on the ground, the hilt of a blade sticking from her shoulder.
And then, with a whirl of his cloak, the Sidhe man and his sprites were gone.
CHAPTER SIX
I DROPPED TO THE FLOOR BY ANWYNN’S SIDE , fearing the worst. I had no idea how long the blade was, or whether it had reached her lungs. “Are you okay?”
For a moment she said nothing, and fear flooded my belly. And then she cracked open one eye, her breathing labored. “Yes, never been better.”
“Really?”
“No. I have a knife in my shoulder, in case you haven’t noticed.”
I grabbed Anwynn’s blanket from the corner of the living room, knelt at her side, and put both hands around the knife’s hilt. “So this will probably
A stone was too dissimilar from the photo for it to keep its form. It shattered against his skull, tiny bits of stone raining onto the carpet. From the dazed look in Maarten’s eye, it had still stunned him.
“Nicole!” Anwynn called out. “Behind you.”
I turned my head and saw, from the corner of my eye, two approaching sprites. They barreled into my back, little swords stabbing. “Anwynn,” I managed, trying to grab them with my injured arm, “I give you full permission to eat them.”
“Good,” she said. “I already ate two.”
And then Maarten had regained his composure. He sliced at me, forcing me back toward the wall. I grimaced as the sprites climbed over my back, stabbing as they went, as though I were a piece of land they needed to claim by planting as many sharp, pointy flags as possible.
I leapt from the console, ducking into a roll. The gash in my shoulder burned, but I felt the crunch as I managed to crush one of the sprites beneath me. The other one darted free in time. “Anwynn, could use some help here!”
“A bit busy at the moment,” she said. She turned in circles in the kitchen, trying to catch a sprite that had latched onto her tail.
Maarten strode forward with easy determination, his cloak billowing behind him. My living room was a mess of overturned objects, little spatters of blood, and broken glass. Those goddamned sprites had ransacked my place, and in near-record time.
I lifted my sword, ready to face him. And then I felt, more than saw, the remaining sprite fall into my pocket.
The pocket where I had the kelpie heart.
I reached into the pocket without thinking and immediately felt a needle-sword entering my palm, almost exactly where the other one had stabbed me earlier. I hissed with pain.
When I drew my hand out, it had a sprite attached to it. The sprite had its arm tucked around a small, brown stone. The heart. I shook my hand, and the sprite tumbled free, but she did not let go of the heart.
I couldn’t see Maarten’s mouth behind the scarf, but I knew that he smiled by the way his eyes crinkled. I leapt forward. “You are such an asshole!”
My blade caught the scarf again, and this time, it tore free.
The face beneath was not scarred or marred in any way. It was smooth, beautiful, with full lips and a strong, narrow jaw. It looked oddly familiar, though I could not place it. A drop of blood beaded at the corner of his mouth where I’d caught him with the point of my sword.
“You’re not Maarten of the Daelus family,” I said.
He reached up and wiped the blood from his mouth, a smirk beginning at the corners. “I never said that I was.”
His three remaining sprites flew to his sides.
We stared at one another for a moment, and then he darted toward the open doorway of the garage.
“Anwynn!” She’d already started moving by the time I called her name. She leapt for the sprite with the heart. It seemed to happen in slow motion. Her jaws snapped shut on empty air as the sprite shot up to avoid her.
The Sidhe man pulled something from inside his cloak, whirled, and threw.
I didn’t see the knife hit Anwynn; I only saw her on the ground, the hilt of a blade sticking from her shoulder.
And then, with a whirl of his cloak, the Sidhe man and his sprites were gone.
CHAPTER SIX
I DROPPED TO THE FLOOR BY ANWYNN’S SIDE , fearing the worst. I had no idea how long the blade was, or whether it had reached her lungs. “Are you okay?”
For a moment she said nothing, and fear flooded my belly. And then she cracked open one eye, her breathing labored. “Yes, never been better.”
“Really?”
“No. I have a knife in my shoulder, in case you haven’t noticed.”
I grabbed Anwynn’s blanket from the corner of the living room, knelt at her side, and put both hands around the knife’s hilt. “So this will probably
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