We showed up at the glade for the feast of friends, me hoping that we wouldn’t find Jake on the menu at this point. A long table sat to either side of a dais of mossy stone. Gauzy fabrics in a rainbow palette of soft tones fluttered from the trees, the chairs, and around the viney bower. Tiny golden orbs floated above our heads, flickering like candles.

  The fae host was there, dancing in the center between the tables or feasting at the tables. Upon the throne sat the Heartland Lord, Ashwynn. He resembled Cerunnos, the Horned Lord of the Hunt from myth, pale, wild, and dignified, regardless. The throne itself was made of twisted grapevines, lush with fruit hanging from the armrests and back. The lord twirled a crescent of bronze in his fingers like some kind of fidget spinner.

  The rope tugged my hand. Aran pulled towards the table where a lot of unattended carving knives lay. I slowly reeled him back towards me. “No touching knives for you, Aran.”

  He staggered backward until he ended up beside me. His dull eyes turned to meet mine, and he released a soulful breath. I felt bad for him, with his face all puffy and covered in nicks from the Riddle Willow.

  I spotted Jake sitting at a table, stuffing his face with a lamb shank in one fist and a goblet in the other. I didn’t see Urstana. Son of a bitch. Wait, son of a sprite was more appropriate, since these people sucked.

  Akilah nudged me, then went around behind the table where Jake sat. A few elves glanced up at us and conveniently vacated their seats so that we could sit between Jake and some other elf stuffing her face with the same blank gusto our demon companion was.

  The elf, Elora, barely spared us a glance; she was too invested in stuffing her cheeks with grapes. I sat beside her, planting Aran in the space between myself and Akilah. She sat next to Jake and gently nudged him.

  His red eyes shifted her way, a flicker of recognition crossing them.

  “How’s the feast going, Jake?” Akilah asked conversationally, though her tone had an edge.

  Neither of us trusted this setup anymore.

  “Geath,” Jake mumbled around his food. He chewed and swallowed, chasing it with wine. When he could speak again, he added, “Great. I’m stuffed, but this food is so good, I can’t stop eating!”

  I shifted uncomfortably on the bench seat, then glanced at Elora, who seemed almost mechanical in her devouring. Squinting at her, then up at the dancing folk, I began picking out the PC from the NPCs in the crowd based on their inability to stop participating.

  The host’s whispering chatter was barely heard, but their laughter crackled, sharp as broken glass.

  Sprites twirled past us in the air as the band struck up a new tune. From the throne, Ashwynn encouraged us all. “Eat, drink, dance!”

  The players were locked into automatic behavior by some kind of spell effect. The place setting before me vanished, and a fresh plate and goblet appeared before me, untouched.

  From the dais, Ashwynn’s voice rang, low and alluring. “Revel, my friends. You must dance for me, sing for me, and enjoy the bounty of my table.”

  Super. The food looked enticing. The rich, meaty aroma from the slab of prime rib on my plate steamed up to my nose. Vegetables glistened with sauce, speckled with savory herbs that lured my salivary glands into overtime. The dark red wine in my silver goblet promised to quench my thirst.

  It was a snare. The lore about eating fairy food and drink was clear: you eat it, they own you. But, to complete the task, we had to do it. I raised my drink to the Lord and took the tiniest sip. Instantly, I wanted to down the whole thing. It took all my WILL to resist swallowing it. I spit the wine back into my cup as subtly as I could.

  Akilah’s eyes went large, glistening with concern. She saw the trap, too. I put my cup down quickly. At the taste, I wanted more. All of it, but if I did, I would just suck down everything they gave me. By will alone, I resisted.

  The mage sat as if petrified, hands in her lap. I stabbed a vegetable and put it in my mouth, chewing with a nervous thrill. I didn’t dare swallow it. Spitting it out seemed too obvious a move. I held the glazed carrot against my tongue, not swallowing as I looked around.

  This had to end. I didn’t know how to stop it yet, but I hoped I’d figure it out before my friend’s stomach burst or one of the players dropped dead from exhaustion. The mush of carrot in my mouth felt like it would slip down my throat any second.

  Inventory. Yes! I shifted the mush into one of the few slots left in my inventory. Sneaking my hand under the table, I shifted the item [chewed carrot] to drop.

  A wet splatter hit my foot. Cute.

  I usually sold junk to vendors, never tossed anything, so I had to spend a moment figuring out how to toss it away from me. Group chat would have been fantastic. I could have shared my solution with the other two.

  With my workaround figured out, I put food in my mouth and tossed it beneath the table. I drank, and wine slicked the grass beneath my feet. I kept up appearances.

  Ashwynn didn’t look at me, which told me I got away with my ruse.

  He stared at Akilah, who hadn’t moved. Dammitall. She probably thought I was a big dumb idiot that fell into the trap. I didn’t dare try to tell her otherwise.

  The Heartland Lord rose from his throne.

  He stood taller than me, and leaner. Even without the sprawling stag horns sprouting from his wild golden hair, he would have had a few inches on me. He wore a cloak of wolf fur draped over his shoulders, his waist draped with the same, barefoot and wearing nothing else.

  The sheer command this guy had was intense.

  He stopped in the center of the trampled grass between the tables, his eerie gaze fixed on Akilah. The dancers parted for him, their circuit widening to whirl around his regal figure.

  What was it like to be just that cool? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. Still, irritation rose as he called out to my new friend.

  “Dance with me, Akilah.”

  I mean, I’d have had a hard time saying no. Not that he’d pick me, in the avatar I chose. A moment of jealousy came and passed. This wasn’t some sweet moment where a girl gets a romantic interlude with the fairy lord.

  Find this and other great novels on the author's preferred platform. Support original creators!

  Akilah’s gaze told me everything I needed to know. A moment of struggle as her WILL fought his—and lost. The distress in her eyes faded, and the swooning softness of a woman charmed set in. She climbed over the bench and swooped around the table to take his outstretched hand.

  I howled on the inside.

  Food stuffed in my mouth, I tried to think of how to get us all out of the snare. Aran sat sullenly beside me, not touching his plate. At least it wasn’t lethal, or the curse would have compelled him to chow down. Poor kid.

  Maybe Jake’s stomach wouldn’t burst, after all.

  Aran.

  I blinked. He knew this quest. Aran wasn’t eating.

  I leaned toward him and whispered, “How do we stop this?”

  The young elf’s shoulders sagged, and he sighed, “It’s complicated.”

  “What a surprise,” I grumbled.

  The rope tethering him sat between us on the bench. I whipped it around the wood frame and tied it there in case he got an urge to ruin my quest chain by getting himself dead. He’d have a hard time wandering off a cliff with a bench attached to him, and he wasn’t motivated enough to actually untie the complicated knot.

  Dance, eat, drink, and sing. Those were the commands the Heartland Lord gave. I got up and on a whim, swiped an arm around Elora’s waist to lift her up from where she sat, hoisting her like a bag of potatoes. Alga would have been proud.

  “Hey!” She cried, dropping her goblet and turkey leg.

  “I don’t know you,” I said, carrying her around to where Jake sat, “But we’re finishing this task, and you’re helping.”

  She dangled there, grabbing at my leg, my arm, anything she could, thrashing as I squeezed her against my side. Her struggle slowed after a moment, and her head tilted so she could see me through the tumble of her tawny hair.

  I grabbed one of Jake’s horns and yanked his head back just enough to force him to look at me. “C’mon, loser. We’re gonna karaoke this damn place. What’s your song?”

  “Song?” He asked, jagged teeth speckled with meat.

  “Yeah, something everyone knows.” Engage his brain, shake him out of his reverie, and then do the same with everyone else. My big plan.

  Elora seemed to be snapping out of the food glut, but, just in case, I shifted so she couldn’t reach the table.

  “ABBA, Dancing Queen?” She suggested, blinking at the strands of hair caught in her eyelashes.

  “I know that one,” Jake mumbled, lifting his goblet toward his lips.

  I let go of his horn, smacked the cup out of his hand, and deadpanned, “Whoops, my bad.”

  “Can you put me down?” Elora patted my shin insistently.

  I gave her a doubtful look. “Can you resist grabbing more food?”

  “I—I doubt it. Carry me away,” she groaned, green eyes slipping up to longingly ogle the bountiful delights on the table.

  Jake—halfway to shoving a popover into his mouth—held out the crispy roll and waved it in my direction. “Try these, Dath, they’re so good!”

  I snatched it from his hand, popped it in my mouth, and slipped it into my inventory. Grabbing his wrist, I dragged him off the bench, nearly tripping over his damn wing. He stumbled, twisting to fall, held up by his arm, cloven hooves scrambling to get beneath him.

  “Up you go, buddy,” I hoisted his arm higher until his flailing became actual standing.

  Jake tugged toward the table, as if to grab one last morsel. Hell with that. I led him over to the spot where the musicians played some fancy-sounding dance music from some time of yore. I set Elora down, keeping an eye on her, but I didn’t risk letting go of Jake’s arm. His eyes were still on the table.

  I called loudly to the musicians. “Hey, bardcore guys! Can you play ABBA? Dancing Queen? We want to sing for his lordship.”

  The nine fae musicians all looked at me. They kept playing the tune they were on, but they cast glances at each other. Maybe they couldn’t stop. Maybe they were ignoring me for being rude. It was probably the latter.

  “Ooh, the Saltarello,” Jake said, like he’d only just noticed the music.

  I rolled my eyes at him because he literally knew all the facts everywhere, but also because it was ancient. Giant nerd. “Is ABBA not old enough for you?”

  “ABBA is older than my mom,” Jake quipped.

  “So your mom is ancient,” I riposted.

  Elora clasped her hands, turning big, hopeful eyes on the band. “Please play it for us?”

  The band looked at each other, shrugged, and shifted their musical gears. The beat changed, causing the dancers to falter in their ever-flowing motion to adjust to the new meter. For some PCs, that was all it took. Players broke free from the grip of their dance partners, shaking off the charmed compulsion.

  Akilah still danced, held in the fae lord’s arms, gazing up admiringly at his admittedly attractive face. He was smooth as silk, taking on the new tempo without a step missed. I couldn’t wait to ruin his perfect style with my voice.

  My old human one had been alright—nothing special, but not grating. This voice? Ha. Harsh as stones ground under boot heels. When we started singing, it was over.

  The Heartland Lord’s gaze snapped up, away from Akilah, targeting me with an irritated stare. I belted out ‘Dancing Queen’ horribly off-tune, grinning like a fool. Jake and Elora joined in, singing and laughing. I grabbed their hands, spinning them wildly in a chaotic dance.

  The charmed dancers fled the feast, leaving no one behind. Except us.

  At the song’s end, I dragged Jake and Elora into a bow.

  “With our deepest respect and sincerest desire to share kindness with our fae brothers and sisters, we sang ABBA,” I announced as I straightened up.

  “Dancing Queen,” Elora added, beaming.

  The Heartland Lord had already ceased dancing.

  Akilah wiggled out of his arms, stepping back toward us. She turned her face to the side, arms wrapped around herself, her steps short and cautious. I couldn’t see her face, but I could guess what she was feeling.

  I stepped forward, releasing Jake and Elora’s hands to circle in front of Akilah, positioning myself to shield her with my body. I threw my arms wide and bowed again. “My Lord, our thanks for a truly charming time.”

  The Heartland Lord inclined his head, his gaze shifting from irritated to thoughtful. His lips curved up in a cunning smile. This intense figure of an elf lord made me more twitchy than that crazy, lying willow tree could have. I suddenly felt like a deflated windsock. My HUD flickered CHARM AURA.

  “A pleasure to meet such a wild and untamable creature, Dathai Orc-kin. A true delight,” his voice dripping with royal airs and elegance.

  With his gaze on me, my palms began to sweat. This fae lord was the most bewitching person I’d ever encountered. Not even the sphinx could match Ashwynn’s charisma and that incredible body. Damn. I was really sorry I picked a male avatar. Something inside me started to waver, to melt, and I wanted—the fuck was I doing?

  It didn’t make sense. Fae hoodoo bullshit, is what it was.

  I took a deep breath and coughed, adjusting my belt—more accurately, my pants. My eyes dropped, pretending deference. Anything to break away from his gaze and avoid embarrassing myself in front of my friends.

  “Anyway. We should go. I have a lamb to find. Thanks, though. This feast was enlightening,” I said, shifting from one foot to the other.

  “Quite so,” Ashwynn replied, his chin rising. His smile never wavered. I knew because I dared a quick glance up at him. “Don’t forget Aran.”

  His lordship gestured at the skinny kid moping at the table, alone now that everyone else had scattered. Oh, shit. I almost did, too. I nodded, then scratched my temple and haltingly turned toward the table. The worst part was that I wanted to turn back around and ask the lord a question. Say something. Keep his attention.

  Bad half-orc. No crushing on the fae lord, no matter the rizz. That way lay madness. Don’t be stupid. Did he have all his stats dumped into CHA? Damn.

  I pushed myself to resolutely go to Aran and untie the rope from the bench. Patting his shoulder gently, I said, “Come on. Let’s look for your girlfriend.”

  Aran flopped backward off the bench and lay on the grass, looking up at me. Tears welled in his eyes, and he whimpered, “She wants me to die.”

  “Only because she thinks you’re a cheater. C’mon, we’ll fix it.”

  I grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him up, feeling some of the seams pop as I lifted. Once I got him back on his feet, he wobbled there, about as ready to go as he could be. I specifically avoided looking in Ashwynn’s direction—dreamy fucking bastard—and I waved at the others.

  “Elora, you coming?” I asked.

  Jake and Akilah glanced at each other, then at the new elf girl.

  “Um, sure,” Elora said, palms up, as if to say, why not?

  We headed out past the dais, towards the path that would lead us to the faun missing a lamb. I couldn’t wait to see what kind of twisted disaster was coming next.

  Really.

  -ARCHIVE-