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give you one more chance. Both of you tell me where the castle is, where it really is, and I won’t throw you so far you learn what bird’s feel like before you hit the ground.”

“I don’t think you’d do that,” the bodach replied.

Elva let all her rage seep into her eyes. She squared her jaw and squeezed the fabric in both hands, twisting until the faeries grasped at their throats. She waited until their faces turned red before she snarled, “Please, try me.”

Releasing her hold enough so they could breathe, she watched as they tried to get their bearings. They had no idea who they were dealing with.

And that wasn’t kind of her, now was it? She tilted her head to the side when they didn’t speak immediately. “Do you know who I am?”

“A faerie witch,” the cailleach grunted. “Put us down, now!”

“Oh no no. I’m not a faerie witch. I’m the wife of the first Seelie King. Fionn the Magnificent, I believe he made everyone call him. I was there when he was dethroned. I was there when he was banished. And yes, I did help the King of Underhill take back his throne, find his wife, and kill Carmen, the mother of all witches.” She brought them both closer to her face. “Do you really want to see what I can do with two little faeries in a forest so far away from anyone? No one will hear you scream.”

The bodach swallowed audibly. “The castle is that way.” He pointed the way his wife had originally pointed. “Follow the path.”

“I don’t think I trust either of you.”

“I wouldn’t lead you wrong, mistress.”

Elva arched a brow.

He swallowed again. “Highness.”

“I want to clarify, bodach”— she nodded at the woman in her other hand—“cailleach. If you have pointed me in the wrong direction, I will come back here. Don’t think you can run from me. I’ve hunted things larger than you and far smarter than you. I will come back. I will find you. And when I do, I am going to rip every single hair from your body, pull out all your fingernails, and feed you to my wolves. Understood?”

The bodach nodded. “Yes, highness.”

She looked at the cailleach. “And you?”

The woman eyed her and frowned. “We’re here to watch the forest. We make sure no one gets to the castle, even the ones who want to get there. That’s our job, miss.”

“Is it? And who employs you?”

Shaking her head, the cailleach replied, “Can’t tell you, miss.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Can’t.”

Which meant it was a particularly powerful faerie who had employed them. This place had just gotten significantly more interesting. Elva shook the cailleach a little. “Why don’t you make my journey a little faster then?”

The sullen look on the cailleach’s face made it clear she wanted to deny Elva’s request. The faerie didn’t want to help Elva at all. Although, she really couldn’t blame the tiny faerie. Elva was holding her by the shirt collar.

Raising a hand, the cailleach snapped her fingers. A great swirl of movement made the entire forest shift under Elva’s feet. It appeared as though she was moving at a great speed, or perhaps the forest was moving on its own, but she was standing still.

Senses whirling, she held onto the faeries for dear life until the movement stopped. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she looked at her new surroundings.

A castle towered above her. Ice pillars gleamed in the sunlight. Stained glass windows cast rainbows across at least ten towers that were both beautiful and wickedly dangerous.

She swallowed. “So this is Fuar Bheinn then?”

The bodach snorted. “You’ve been walking in Fuar Bheinn for hours. That is the ice palace.”

“Ah. Home to the cursed bear, I assume?”

The cailleach shivered in her grasp, then nodded. “The beast of Fuar Bheinn.”

Interesting that the faeries were afraid of him. She hadn’t seen any reason for such a visceral reaction to the creature. The bear was certainly a problem. He was powerful and capable of doing much harm, considering there was a human mind inside such a beast. But that didn’t make him frightening. Only the soul inside the creature could be that terrifying.

She stared at the ice stairs and sighed. That was going to take her a while to maneuver, and she hadn’t really expected to deal with climbing this early in the trek.

Deirdre had been right. Fuar Bheinn created its own kind of cold that frosted the air and made her breath puff in front of her face.

“Thanks for the help,” she muttered, then tossed the faeries onto the ground. “Now, off with you.”

The bodach helped the cailleach up, dusting off her backside and making snide comments about faeries with fat heads. “We won’t help you again, you know,” he muttered.

“I think you won’t have a choice if I need help again.”

“Try us.”

Elva turned around and placed a hand on her sword. “Try me, faerie.”

He snarled. The little thing could probably bite, but he was so old, chances were he’d end up only gumming her. Elva didn’t have time to deal with ridiculous faeries who didn’t know a Tuatha de Danann when they saw one. They wouldn’t even be allowed into the courts if they tried to enter.

When they were far enough away that she knew they couldn’t bother her anymore, Elva set her pack onto the ground. She flexed her shoulders to try to rid herself of the discomfort. It had been a long time since she’d traveled like this. Perhaps too long considering the stiffness in her back and neck.

Rubbing the muscles, she reached into her pack and pulled out the straps for her boots. Small nails had been hammered through the leather. It wasn’t much, but it would help her grip onto the ice.

A few moments later, she was ready to try this next piece of the journey. The castle looked faerie made, she mused as she picked up her pack again.

The nails in her boots sank into the ice like claws. It was slow

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