The Fae King's Dream (Between Dawn and Dusk #2) - Jamie Schlosser Page 0,107

says, gazing at the trees. “No one else.”

As Damon helps us to the ground, he simply announces, “We’ll be back.”

Many of the soldiers remain unresponsive and stoic, while I see a few people from our original traveling party exchange concerned glances.

“Are you sure?” Quinn asks, wiggling like she’s about to jump off her saddle.

Kirian stops her, placing a hand on her shoulder as he shakes his head. Maybe he knows. Maybe he knew all along that Maisel wouldn’t make it.

Cradling her in my hands, I follow Damon into the forest. As we trudge through the thick bushes, he takes the lead, clearing a path by hacking away at the sticks and branches in our way.

It’s too quiet.

I don’t know what to say. My death row conversation skills are seriously lacking, and I’m afraid if I start saying goodbyes, I might not even manage a coherent sentence through my tears.

Tilting my face up to the sky, I will my eyes to dry up as I marvel at how it transitions from night to day in a myriad of colors down the middle. The rainbows are ever-changing. It’s like watercolor paints pooling on a soaked piece of paper. Purple bleeds into blue. Blue morphs into green. Red becomes pink, then yellow, then orange.

Maisel reclines on my palm, sharing the same view.

Careful of where I’m stepping, I start to talk.

“I saw the northern lights near my home once. It doesn’t happen often where I’m from, but the conditions were just right that evening. First the sky got kind of red. I thought maybe aliens were coming.”

Maisel doesn’t reply, but her quiet giggle lets me know she’s listening.

“My mom and I were on our way home from a shopping trip in the next town over. She’d seen Aurora Borealis before, so she pulled off the highway and stopped on a deserted road. We got out and sat on the hood of the car to watch. The red faded and green swirls appeared. They glowed so brightly in the dark sky. I thought it was magical, but it doesn’t compare to this realm. I bet you’ve been under these rainbows many times, huh?”

Maisel hums out a confirmation. “I hatched in this realm. It’s a good place to die.”

“I’m still going to build your tower on palace grounds,” I tell her, determined to produce as much good as possible from this tragedy. “If no one uses it, then that’s fine. But it’ll be there—a safe place for any sprite needing refuge.”

“That sounds wonderful. Will you name it after me?”

A tear balances on my lower lid. “We’ll call it Maisel’s House.”

Hugging my thumb, she sighs happily, like I just gave her the best gift.

New trees start to appear. Instead of leaves, yellow trumpet-shaped flowers sprout everywhere. I glance over my shoulder, but we’ve gone so far, I can’t see the road anymore.

“You sure we’re in the right place?” I ask as Damon lifts some of the hanging branches out of the way.

“Definitely,” he answers, pointing at the two-inch blooms. “These flowers are like a filling station for the sprites. Can you smell the sweetness?”

As a matter of fact, I can. It reminds me of apricots.

Plucking one, he offers it to Maisel. She drinks greedily before smacking her colorless lips. Although it doesn’t seem to improve her condition, she motions for another. And another.

Just as she’s finishing up, I hear a quiet buzzing sound.

Mid-gulp, Maisel pauses. “They know we’re close. I think they’re waiting for me.”

Nodding, I move forward. With Damon’s hand at my back, we keep walking. The buzzing gets louder, and a high-pitched chatter joins in as we get closer. A thick wall of vines stands in our way, and when Damon moves it to the side, my mouth pops open.

I thought the sky was magical, but a sprite village is unreal.

Tree trunks have been hollowed out at different levels, making apartment-like dwellings. A variety of colored lights shine from within, and when I squint, I realize they have little lanterns made from gems—jewels of all kinds.

Bridges constructed from twigs and vines run from one tree to the next, connecting the houses. There are pully systems, with baskets full of roasted meat and other goods. The forest floor is a work of art. Gems and gold make a circular mosaic, the spiral design stemming out from a large diamond in the middle.

Then, of course, there are the sprites. Dozens of them. Their wings are a blur of sparkles as they fly about. Some perch on the