Thief of Fae: In a city built of iron, and run by witches, what could possibly go wrong? New Adult, A Post Apocalyptic Dark Urban Fantasy Dystopia with ... twist. (These Hallowed Hills Book 6) by S. L. Mason

Author:S. L. Mason [Mason, S. L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Quick Quill Publishing, LLC
Published: 2022-01-24T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Mercia

The sun went down, and Puca didn’t appear. I paced in my hidey-hole where I recounted my weapons and supplies. I sang for food and let the flittermice in and out.

The gators sunned themselves during the day and snacked at night, each doing their part to help me. My bayou spies took turns, watching the watery city. There was no sign of Nick. The witches went about their business, whatever that was, while the human slaves toiled under the yoke of magic. Nothing changed for days.

Puca was in Fae.

It should take him less than an hour there to get me what I need.

Yet, for me, weeks went by and I was unable to leave my treehouse.

My pacing wore a path on the floorboards. I screamed until my throat was raw from boredom and frustration. Hunger raged in my belly, and it wouldn't be quenched.

I didn't want food. That was easy to coax into a trap or conger. I wanted the hunt. I craved the freedom to free Nick.

Every day, the pressure to return the bowl grew, turning the command of my master into something more important than my feelings. He commanded me to retrieve the bowl before he commanded me to stay here. If he didn't return soon, the magic would begin to eat away at me until there was nothing left. Rather than let that march begin, I took matters into my own hands.

‘The worms go in, and the worms go out’ song rang over the water. I used that song to pull back the roots of my tree. The song was about an oak, but banyan trees can be just as strong.

Their roots are so numerous, it would take a human to kill them.

After the roots were free of the bank, I sang for ‘hot cross buns,’ and the magic wove them into a boat bottom.

I called on my Alice song for the gators to push the tree into the bayou after lacing it with ‘light as a feather’. Then, I called on Jack to make us all nimble and quick.

The cloak of darkness was my only friend, and I opened the shack door, so I could direct my floating palace. It was no different than calling a round.

The tree was too top-heavy, and I had to sing ‘light as a feather’ three times to lighten the crown.

The city light pierced the gloom far beyond, giving the fog that lingering halo.

I’ve read about the human idea of Angles. It was stupid really. They probably saw a Fae and thought it was something else.

Regular humans have a hard time processing magic and explaining it. And since the shine of a Fae resembled a halo, rather than thinking of fairies, someone said Angle.

And that was the end of that.

I knew that halos were only light refracting off of mist-filled air because momma explained all human weaknesses to me. I still believed some of it. Others she was dead wrong about.

Humans are every bit as dangerous as Fae.

The tree lurched to one side, and I sang to level it out.

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