A Thief of Nightshade(51)

Given had never heard of this before.

“That’s how he turned them into statues?

You think he’ll use one against Aubrey?”

Ian shrugged. “I cannot say for sure.

We may be too late to save either one of them, but if he does then you’ll need to consider what we must do to pull them from it. They’ll be battling their own demons. You’ve sent us to quite an engagement, I fear.”

Oberon nodded. “Use your glamour if you must, but remember that in the Glass Mountains your magic is weaker and your spells will not last.”

Oberon turned to Given then. “Be careful, child. Come back to me,” he whispered lovingly.



“I will take heed, Uncle. I promise.”

Jullian listened to his echoing footsteps as he walked across the icy floor of the palace courtyard. The sounds of revelry and celebration surrounded him as all those in the Winter Court of Neath prepared for his succession to the Fae throne. For a few brief moments, he seemed to have been forgotten by those who’d been his constant shadows for the past few weeks and for the first time he was truly alone with his thoughts.

He could not understand it, nor could he explain it, but something had come over him this afternoon. It was like waking from a recurring dream that was always close enough to remember the feeling it had brought, but never the dream itself.

The dream had taken root in him, wrapping around his heart and wrenching from him any sense of contentment he’d had. And yet, had he been content?

Strangely, he began to wonder if it wasn’t the dream that clung to him, but he who clung to the fading remnants. That thought stayed with him the remainder of the evening and into the night as he readied for sleep and finally closed his eyes— along with the hope that his slumber would somehow bring him closer to seeing clearly what so tormented him from afar.



Aubrey woke to the sound of gnashing teeth and Aislinn holding her so tightly she thought he might break her arms.

Two stoic goblins stood at arms just inside the doorframe. The one on the right wore a smirk, as if party to a private joke.

The other looked stupidly onward with his clumsy, fat hands twitching at his sides.

“Come near us and I’ll tear your eyes out,” Aislinn roared.

“There’s no call for such hostility. I can’t see that I’ve been anything but exceedingly kind to both of you.” The smooth voice was soon matched to the butter-soft leather of the Goblin King’s dark green pants as he entered the room.

He smiled serenely as he waltzed past the two guards and came to stand bravely in front of them.

Aislinn growled and Aubrey had to fight to keep from crying out. His metal arm held fast about her waist, curtailing her ability to breathe. “You call this kind?”

“Why do you think you’re here and not in the dungeon?” the King asked casually.

“I don’t care,” Aislinn snarled.

“That wasn’t all they had planned for you.” The King gestured to Aislinn’s arm.

“I spared you what was to come. For now, anyway.” He then looked directly at Aubrey, a telling expression on his face.

He was bargaining.

“What will it take for you to let him go?” Aubrey asked timidly.

“Shut up, Aubrey!” Aislinn threw her behind him. “You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“What would it take? Well, I do love games and things have been rather dull around here,” the King said. “But, what’s in it for me? I can easily take whatever I wish from you. Hardly seems worth my time.”

“Because you can’t take what I can offer. Love can only be given.” Aubrey conjured every sympathy for the Goblin King she could. He reminded her oddly of Grant, alone despite his veritable kingdom of society friends and his fortress of a home.

“No! Aubrey, are you listening to yourself?” Aislinn snarled.

“You would love me if I gave you the chance to win his freedom?”

“You’ll never know if you don’t give me that chance.”

The King looked at Aislinn, who seemed ready to come out of his fur. “If a game is what you wish to play, a game it shall be. But I will warn you—I won’t have any control of it once you start playing. You’re on your own.”

“If I win, you’ll let Aislinn go?”

Aubrey asked.

The King nodded. “You may have my word on that. If you lose, however—”

Aislinn interrupted, “Aubrey, I don’t like this.”

“I know. But I have to do something.

My life is already forfeit. I won’t sacrifice yours as well.”



“Be ready in one hour,” the King said simply. “You’ll find appropriate clothing in the wardrobe.”

Aislinn stared at Aubrey quietly. He’d just watched her emerge from the washroom.

“You’ve provoked him and you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I haven’t provoked anyone,” she said. “What else would you have me do?

He isn’t going to let both of us go. You can go for help.”

Aislinn huffed. “Yes, Aubrey, you have. Just because he isn’t angry yet doesn’t mean he won’t be when he finds out you didn’t really mean what you said.