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A SMALL FROG-CREATURE hopped out of the crowd, its throat bulging with each croak. It was half Hallie’s height, standing like a man and dressed in white and gold, but under the human clothes it was fully frog.
“Follow me,” it said in a deep voice.
Hallie glanced over at Wyn, but the cold anger—the fear—in her friend’s eyes kept her from responding. But she needn’t have said anything. Wyn tugged on her arm, pulling her after the frog-man. Wherever they were going, Wyn would keep them safe. Right?
The frog-man half walked, half hopped down a path dappled in honey-gold sunlight, morning fog drifting around the tree trunks and muting the colors of the forest. The frogs in the distance croaked softly, and Hallie briefly wondered if they were kin with the frog-man.
Everywhere she looked, there was too much to see, too much to take in. Every color was brighter than in the human world, the smells stronger, the sounds sharper. It was as if every one of her senses was turned up so high she could hardly bear it, and with every step she took, she felt her heart accelerate. Her breath became gasps, her eyes darting from tree trunk to tree trunk.
This world was alien. She didn’t belong here, no matter how much she had wanted to learn about the Fae Courts. What had she gotten herself into?
Suddenly the frog-man stopped, and she ran into his back, stumbling backward as her mind jerked her away from the sensory overload and back to Wyn and the creature.
The frog-man swept a hand toward the gap between two thick trunks, their branches draped in sage-green ivy dripping tiny white flowers. “This is where I leave you.”
Hallie turned back, raising her hand to ask him why here, as if she were in class, but the frog-man was gone faster than she could blink. She shuddered.
Wyn’s nose twitched, and she reached her head forward toward the gap. For a moment, her forehead wrinkled in thought, then a bright smile overtook her face.
“What?” Hallie said, her heart still pounding. “What is it?”
“A demesne!” Wyn responded, then stepped into the mists.
And vanished, enveloped in the swirling vapor.
“Wyn?” Hallie called, her voice high and strained. “Wyn, where are you?”
For a few heartbeats, there was nothing but the distant, quiet call of the forest, then Wyn’s silhouette reappeared, antlers reaching to the sky.
“Come on!” she called, her shadow beckoning Hallie forward.
Cautiously, Hallie stepped forward. The grass bent underfoot, quickly giving way to soft, spongy moss speckled with those white blossoms. The farther she went into the trees, the stronger their sweet scent grew, something like jasmine and tea, and her anxiety began to calm.
And then she broke into a clearing free of fog, thickly bordered by trees and honeysuckles on every side. A swing draped in vines and jasmine swayed peacefully on one side, and across from it stood two twin-size beds, each made up with the brightest white linens, the natural wood headboards covered in creeping lichen. Moss covered the floor, creating a natural, soft, cool carpet under her bare feet. Birdsong was louder here, and unlike on the path outside, Hallie found herself slowly relaxing, almost as if this forest room was made just for her.
“What is this place?” Hallie breathed.
Wyn grinned and flopped onto one of the beds. The soft linens pillowed around her, and she sank into their depths. “Our accommodations for the week, owned by the master of this Court.” She flipped over and inhaled against the pillow. “Oh, I’ve missed this.”
Hallie’s eyes lingered on her friend. It was like Wyn had come home, as if she had always belonged here. She could practically see the glow of contentment radiating from the Hart. She’d thought Wyn liked living in the human world, but...
No. Wyn wouldn’t just abandon her, and even if Hallie failed, at least it would be a peaceful, pretty prison. Though this wasn’t what she had wanted when she entered the folklore program; she wanted the safety and peace of the research, not the danger of the Fae themselves.
She had to figure this mess out.
She stepped across the springy forest floor and sat on her own bed, facing Wyn. Just like her friend, she sank deep into the mattress. It called to her, beckoned for her to lie down and rest her eyes, promised her the best rest she’d ever have.
But she couldn’t give in yet. “So now what?”
“Hmm?” Wyn looked up dreamily, then shook her head, her ribbons fluttering, and sat up straighter. “Oh, right.”
“Any suggestions?”
Wyn’s face morphed from dreamy pleasure to concern. “Well, first off, stop making bargains with Fae! What in the Four Courts is wrong with you, girl? How long have you known me? How many times have I warned you about dealings with Fae?”
“But you don’t understand!”
“I understand you think so little of my opinion that you’d ignore my advice!” She bolted to her feet and began pacing from one end of the demesne to the other. When she looked back at Hallie, hurt filled her eyes, tears pooling like the crystal water of a spring. “How could you? How could you risk yourself like this? I mean, I knew you had an unhealthy interest in Fae bargains, and there was that whole nonsense about summoning a Fae, but I never thought you’d actually go through with it!”
Hallie threw herself backwards on the bed. “I had to, Wyn.”
“Why? What was so important that you had to make a bargain?”
“I never got in to Sabine.” Hallie covered her face with her hands.
Wyn paused. “What? But you told everyone you did, even your parents!”
Hallie sat back up, slapping the linens. “And that was the problem! How could I tell them I hadn’t made it? That all the pride they had in me was misplaced?” Tears pricked her eyes, and burning shame spread across her skin. “How could I let everyone down like that?”
Wyn wandered back to her bed, taking her seat slowly. “You would never have let anyone down, Hal. No one but yourself, that is.”
And that much was true. How many anxiety attacks had she suffered after her exams? She’d desperately hidden every B from her first-year classes, even though she knew her parents would be proud of even that. She couldn’t bear the thought of anyone thinking her less than gifted, of any possibility of disappointing those who loved her.
But in reality, Hallie was the only one. She knew this, though she couldn’t accept it. She couldn’t fail. She just couldn’t.
Wyn sighed. “So what did you agree to give away?”
“My ‘academic firstborn,’ as he put it.”
Wyn quirked an eyebrow. “Which is?”
“My first discovery.”
Her friend’s face smoothed. “I see. And I assume this is the same discovery you’ve been slaving over? Care to share what it is now?”
Hallie bit her lip. “Resurrection.”
