The Lost Fae (The Twisted Crown #3) - A.K. Koonce Page 0,39
that steams in the icy evening air. The moon pours all of its light down on it as if it too is the only thing it can focus on.
My eyes only briefly check over the trolls to make sure none of them spot me in the window before they are quickly drawn back to the fountain. Something in my stomach pulls at me... something whispers to my mind, suggesting that I need to go to it... that this fountain can... help me. I shake my head, knowing these thoughts are foreign. I can almost taste the magic of it on my tongue.
It's not just the fountain, though. No, it's what's in the fountain that intrigues me the most.
Her skin is a porcelain white, is marred only by the dark strands of wet hair that cling to her shoulders. The outline of her body is surrounded by a yellow glow that sparkles at her every movement as she washes in the water.
I go stiff as Anastasia turns to the side, careful not to make any sudden movements that would draw attention to me. She cups the water to her face and lets it run down her. I focus on her features and they sparkle as the water trickles down. She's totally naked, with her breasts exposed to the night. The watching trolls don't seem to bother her in the least as she carries on.
When the soft golden glow finally dries from her face, I press my lips together to keep from gasping. It's as if the clock is turning back. Or is this just my imagination? It can't be. When I saw her earlier today, I guessed her age to be in her twenties, not too much older than me. But the tell-tale signs of aging on the human face had been present, even if they were minor from her young age. I remember the small lines in her forehead, a few crinkles around her eyes, and even the soft lines around her mouth. None of which were deep enough or too unforgiving of her youth.
As she looks up to the moon, water glowing in droplets that run over the peaks over her chest and down toward her navel, there isn't a single line or crease. She looks... she looks.... seventeen? Like a teenager.
Is this... whatever it is... what all the humans here have been using? Is this how Captain Beatrice and her crew remain alive? They don't look young in the least bit... not like the queen... but the fact that they are still living is an unsolved mystery.
Is this the queen's secret? Or something we just have not learned about The Lost Court yet? Whatever it is... I need to tell Lincoln.
I press myself against the wall, ready to find my way back to our room. A figure steps into the hall, their face hidden by a low tilted hat. A few more figures file in behind them. Every muscle in my body locks up.
"Sneaky, sneaky Fae... What are you doing?" Captain Beatrice Ann tilts her face up, giving me a cruel cutting grin that slices across her face like a dangerous warning of what's to come.
Ten
Mind Diving
Johanna steps out of the shadows. She moves from behind the Captain with her head cocked as she watches me with a gloating expression. I grind my teeth together, knowing I've been caught. So what do the pirates know?
"I don't think Queen Anastasia would be pleased to hear that her guests are peeping on her." She takes another step forward and I lock my knees to keep from retreating back into the view of the window.
"And what exactly are you doing out of bed?" I keep my tone even and offer them a playful smile. It's all fun and games...
"We've taken to strolling the halls at night to make sure everything is as it should be." Captain Beatrice places her hand on the hilt of the sword on her belt. "A gift to our gracious queen who has been so kind to host us for the night. She was so pleased to meet you... but her opinion may change come morning."
All it takes is the smallest tip of her chin, and the gang of pirates run forward and seize me by my arms. Their fingers dig into my skin. Even without moving, I can tell how easily it will be to slip from their grip. I focus on my breathing and only offer them a look of confusion.