The Faceless Woman by Emma Hamm (i love reading .txt) 📕

people, to the Otherworld,” the Unseelie replied. “I thought that was rather painfully obvious. No?”

“You omitted going to the Otherworld. I can’t go there.” Her heart raced at the mere thought of that cursed faerie land. She rubbed her grumbling stomach that threatened to toss her meager breakfast onto the ground.

“That’s where I’m going, witch. And if I remember right, binding curses require the pair to be in the same realm, do they not?”

“You are correct, so it would behoove you to—”

He spun on his heel and leveled her with a glare so filled with rage it stopped her in her tracks. “I’m going to the Otherworld with or without you. I suggest you think good and hard about just how much you want to keep that head on your shoulders. I care very little if I live or die. Do you?”

Aisling gulped, feeling like a mouse being watched by a large cat. He stared at her a few moments longer, nodded, and then turned around as if he hadn’t just threatened to kill them both.

Faeries.

She glared at Lorcan. “Did you have to find a portal to the Otherworld? Of all places?”

He flicked his tail. “I’m on his side with this one. You’re bound to him, and I don’t like it. The sooner we break the curse, the sooner we can return to our normal lives.”

Normal? Since when had their lives ever been normal?

Aisling watched the cat sidhe disappear into the grass again. The only way she could track him was by the moving line that parted the rolling pastures. Lorcan liked telling people what to do, and now she’d have to deal with the fat head he’d get from ordering an Unseelie around like he was one of the cat’s subjects.

Lorcan guided them to a stream falling from a cliff high above them. White foam frothed on the ground where it struck, the water swirling with movement and life. The stones at the base were smoothed by years of runoff.

She tilted her head back and stared at the wild beauty. Sometimes it startled her how lovely the land was. Emerald green moss clung to the rugged stones, and speckles of color showed through where granite peeked through the dirt and earth. Ui Neill was a land untouched, pristine and pure.

“What is this?” the Unseelie exclaimed. “Some kind of jest?”

Lorcan sauntered to the stream’s edge and stuck his paw in the cold water. He flicked droplets in their direction and then licked his pads. “This is it.”

“Running water negates faerie magic. This isn’t a portal.”

“But it can be.”

“What are you blathering on about?”

Lorcan flicked his gaze towards Aisling. “She’ll be more useful in this situation than I am. Ask her.”

“Ask the witch?” The Unseelie planted his hands on his hips and turned toward her with a severe look. “What do you have to do with this?”

“Aren’t you glad we’re bound now?” She tossed her loose hair over her shoulder.

“You’d have to come up with a miracle for that to happen. Now, explain yourself.”

“I can open a portal to the Otherworld.” Aisling shrugged her shoulder. “Magic is wonderful like that, isn’t it?”

“You can open a portal to the Otherworld?”

“Yes.”

“A witch.”

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe it.” He rubbed the side of his head, scraping over budding feathers. “It’s not possible.”

“Correction, it’s very possible. I’ve done it before.”

Aisling thoroughly enjoyed watching him struggle for words. If he asked, she didn’t plan on telling him she’d opened a portal only once for a faerie-blooded lass. The woman had been kind enough, and all Aisling had done was let her slip through the portal and then sealed it behind her. She didn’t even know if the woman survived.

The Unseelie’s eyes sparked in anger, as if he could read her thoughts.

“Would you like me to show you?” she asked, fluttering her hand in the air with a pretend fan.

“How?” He dropped his hands to his sides, in all appearances giving up. “How did you learn to do that?”

“My grandmother. She had lots of books she shouldn’t have had and gave them to me to memorize. I'll admit, I'm bad at memorizing spells, but I did steal away a few them to keep for myself. She took whichever ones I finished back to where they came from.”

“Which is?”

“I never asked.”

“Why wouldn’t you ask? Some old woman gives you spell books that contain faerie secrets, and you don’t think to ask where she was stealing them from?”

Aisling pursed her lips. “I highly doubt she was stealing them.”

“Then how was she getting them?”

“Borrowing.”

He let out a growl so loud it made Lorcan jump. “What are you, a brownie? No one borrows spell books from the Fae!”

“Do you want me to open this portal or not?”

“Yes!” he shouted. Frustration laced his tones with a breathy quality that sounded far too sensual for her liking. She felt her cheeks burn and was glad he couldn’t see her reaction.

Why were faeries always so appealing? Why couldn’t they be ugly, malformed creatures who limped in the shadows? Well, she supposed this one was close to that. And he was still appealing!

She took a deep breath and sighed. “Fine. We’re in agreement that I’ll open a portal, and then we’ll go to the Otherworld. Where I don’t want to go.”

“Care to explain that?”

“Not really.”

“Secrets, secrets, and more secrets,” he muttered. “You’re an infuriating woman, you know that?”

“You aren’t the first to say so.”

“I bet.” When his hands opened and then closed, she heard the audible crack of his knuckles. “I need to clear my head. Just open the portal. I’ll be back soon.”

“It takes a while to open a portal. It probably won’t be done by the time you get back.”

“Don’t bet on it, witch.”

“You intend to be gone for a full day then?”

He glared at her. “Just get it done.”

Aisling stared at his back after he turned from her. Strong and lithe, the lines of his muscles should have been on a dancer, a soldier, even a prince. Not some unruly Unseelie who—

She gasped when