Curse of the Troll, Emma Hamm [books to read to increase intelligence TXT] 📗

and filled the plate with enough food to kill a horse. The training had made her hungry. Turkey, pig, and roasted squash on the table filled the air with aromas that made her mouth water. She wanted to devour everything in front of her, and would have if there weren’t more pressing matters at hand.

She attacked the food with knife and fork as she would have liked to have done with the issue presented. Go with the bear? Live in his castle for a year and do…what? Elva had already lived a life where she wallowed in a palace with a faerie prince.

It hadn’t ended well for either her or the prince.

Scáthach ate her own food in silence while she watched all the women in the hall. Her gaze lingered on the new women who had arrived, particularly on one whom Elva remembered had shown up more black and blue than skin colored.

“Do you know why I started this camp?” she asked.

Elva nodded. “Because you wanted all women to feel safe.”

“That’s what I tell people, and it’s as good a lie as any other.” Scáthach shrugged. “But that wasn’t the reason. I started it because someone told me I couldn’t be a warrior. They said women were meant to heal and to take care of the home. I never wanted that. I’d seen female warriors on the battlefield before. So I dedicated my life to becoming the best warrior to ever live. And then to teaching other women they, too, could be the same.”

Elva wasn’t certain where the story was going. What did this have to do with the bear? What did that have to do with asking Elva to leave the only place that felt like home?

“Scáthach—”

“I’m not finished yet.” She waited until Elva fell silent before continuing. “These women show up on my door, battered, bruised, wanting to learn how to take revenge. Such teachings are not in my way. I will teach them to defend themselves, but I’m not going to help them destroy the thing that had nearly destroyed them.

“You arrived here as one of my most difficult protégés. You had a chip on your shoulder that even I had a hard time knocking out of you. But I succeeded. I gave you your life back. The one you wanted more than anything else in this world. Now, I’m asking you for something in return.”

Elva had known there had to be a catch to this place. The first time she’d walked in and Scáthach had offered to help, she was certain this had to be some kind of faerie trick. But Scáthach wasn’t a faerie. She was human. And, therefore, Elva had been tricked.

Her hackles rose. This was something she knew how to deal with. She’d grown up with women like this taking advantage of her. It still stung that someone she’d trusted with her entire being would betray her like this.

Setting down her fork, she cleared her throat. “Understood. I’m very familiar with favors.”

“Not like this one.” Scáthach glanced her way finally, her hand curling around the knife she held. “This bear asked for almost an exact description of you. Care to tell me why?”

“I don’t know anyone who’s cursed like that.”

“Your family?”

“Also doesn’t know anyone cursed. If they did, then they wouldn’t be using that curse to get to me.” Elva reached with her free hand and grabbed the goblet. The other, she slipped underneath the table, still clutching the knife.

“Are you certain of that?”

“I haven’t talked to them in years, Scáthach. If they wanted to speak with me, they would have reached out. They could have reached out to my sister, to Bran, to the Seelie King. There are far more people who know more about me than you do. They wouldn’t use a cursed bear to get me to come home.”

Scáthach grunted and lifted her own goblet to her lips. “Then perhaps this is merely fate.”

Elva didn’t believe in fate. She believed in cause and effect. The bear asking for her in particular was troubling. Not a single person in her past would have stooped so low to ask one of the cursed to drag her back to the Seelie Court.

Who else could it be?

“Why was he asking for me?” Elva questioned.

“I couldn’t get that out of him. I was hoping you would know.” Scáthach shrugged. “I don’t think it really matters in the end. You’re going, whether you want to or not.”

“To save a cursed bear? I could think of a few other things I’d rather be doing with my time.”

“Saving? Whoever said anything about saving?”

Elva turned slowly toward her mentor and tried to figure out what the woman was getting at. Why else would she send Elva? She was the only person here who had firsthand experience with faerie curses. And it had to be a faerie who had cursed the bear.

She drew down her brows. “Why else would you send me? That curse reeks of fae magic, of which you know I have much experience with. You, of all people, know that I’m not just fae.”

“Yes, your gift for the magical arts will likely help you with this, but I don’t want you to save him. That bear… Well, I won’t tell you who he is because that will only make this more difficult for you. Let’s just say that his existence is not good for the faerie courts. Wandering fae without allegiance are dangerous, especially in the human realms.”

“Scáthach,” Elva said, her tones mocking in their surprise. “I didn’t know you were involved in faerie politics.”

“We’re all involved in faerie politics, whether we want to be or not. This is the first opportunity in years that I have someone at my disposal who can actually be around one of the cursed faeries. Someone who knows the limitations of such a curse.” She lifted her goblet into the air between them. “I want you to survey him. To learn what he knows, who he is, and how he came