Signs of Cupidity (Heart Hassle Book 1)

Gravity reaches up with both hands and snatches me down like the needy bitch she is. I fall through air and clouds, keeping my body as tight as possible. Ronak suggested I fall for a good distance so that I don’t tire myself, but I’ll need to use my wings to gain control soon. According to Sylred’s map, the gwyllion fae’s banishment island is directly below. Arachno has been there for nearly a century. When I asked what she’d done to be banished, the guys wouldn’t tell me. I have a feeling I don’t want to know.

As I’m falling, I notice a strange feeling come on deep inside my gut. It’s almost like I want to hurl, almost like I’ve been stabbed, but it’s neither of those sensations at the same time. It must be because I just tossed myself off the side of a floating island. How do I get myself into these situations?

When I start to see something below me in the distance, I unfurl my wings and catch a wind drift. After a bit of maneuvering, I start to soar on the breeze effortlessly. It’s the first time I’ve been this high up since I fell from the prince’s castle, but this time, I actually have some control over what I’m doing. All that practice has paid off. For a few moments, I simply enjoy coasting through the air. With the wind at my wings and the sun at my back, I’ve never felt so free before. Tilting downward, I soar all the way down to Arachno’s island. It’s small and has a rocky, sparse terrain, very different than the guys’ island.

Once I get closer, I circle around it, searching for a space that the gwyllion might be holed up. She doesn’t like the sunlight, so the guys believed that she’d be somewhere protected by the elements. When I see a larger rock formation, I head for it, passing through the barrier. I wouldn’t even have noticed it if I weren’t looking for it. I fly down to the ground, proud of myself when I manage a perfect landing.

I let out a big breath and try to fix the wayward hair that ripped out of my braid as I take in my surroundings. “Okay, Emelle. Find the creepy fae, get glamoured, get out. You can do this,” I whisper to myself.

Except the weird pain in my stomach seems to expand just then and a strange sensation trickles down my left arm, all the way to my fingers. I lift my hand in front of my face in horror, and I watch as my palm disappears from view. “What the…?”

I frantically move my hand around, as if I can shake it back into visibility like a reverse Etch-A-Sketch. I watch as it flickers back into view.

I blink at it, my panic forcing my breathing to quicken. Maybe it was a trick? Maybe my hand didn’t really disappear? Except, if Arachno is as powerful as she’s claimed to be, then perhaps she has some sort of spell over the island that’s causing my stomach pain and the weird vanishing act? Whatever it was, it seems to have passed for now. Although the weird ache in my gut is still there, but I mentally shove that away so I can deal with my task. I’ll just hope my hand stays visible for the remainder of the visit.

I approach the mountain of rocks as I warily look around. Unlike the guys’ island, this one is eerily quiet, with all sounds of wildlife oddly absent. It’s an unnatural, forced kind of quiet, and its abnormally colorless here, too. The trees are sparse, the ground is hard, and even the wind doesn’t seem to want to touch down here.

The atmosphere is downright freaky and it sets me on edge. As I tentatively make my way toward the rocky mountain, I feel the hair on the back of my neck rise up in warning. Following Ronak’s instructions, I carefully clear my throat to announce the scripted words. “Arachno, I’ve come to make a trade.”

My voice comes out shakier than I would have liked, but hell if this place doesn’t feel haunted. I wait, looking around the rocky hillside, trying to see into the hidden nooks and crannies that are shielded by endless shadows. Nothing happens.

I walk further around the hillside, nearly tripping over the jagged, jutting rocks that make up the ground. “Arachno, I’ve come to make a trade,” I say, louder and steadier this time.

I wait for a few minutes, but still, nothing happens. I start to worry that maybe the gwyllion fae has been released from her banishment, or maybe she’s died, or maybe the guys were wrong about this being her island. I feel panic stir inside me. If I can’t get a glamour to hide my obvious appearance, than there’s nowhere in the entire fae kingdom that I can hide where Prince Elphar won’t find me.

Maybe I can fly to another nearby island and find someone else to help? Maybe I can—

My trail of thought is cut off when I suddenly scream at the figure before me. She blended in so well with the gray rocky expanse of the hillside, that I don’t even know how long she’s been standing there watching me.

She has gray skin that perfectly matches the rocks, and long, stringy gray hair that reaches her knees. But it’s her eyes that really freak me out. Instead of two, she has many, taking up the entire expanse of her forehead. They’re small, beady and black, like a spider’s. They all blink at different times. For some reason, I get really hung up on this fact and catch myself trying to follow each one blinking in succession like it’s a game of Simon.

“A-Arachno?”

The fae woman raises a hand and curls her bony finger to me. With a hard swallow, I make my way toward her. As soon as I’m moving, she turns around into a hidden fissure between boulders, disappearing into the side of the hill. With one more look behind me, knowing I might possibly never see the sky again, I follow her in.

She takes me down through small, rough warrens until we reach a hollowed out cave. It’s obvious by the interior that this is where the fae lives. There’s a fire in the middle with a bubbling cauldron on top, and from what I can tell, it doesn’t look like she’s cooking dinner. There’s a mess of random objects around, all of them dirty, all of it mismatched and strange. A pile of blankets sits in one corner, and there’s a wall covered in a strange, white stringy substance from floor to ceiling. I can’t tell what’s behind the strings, but it’s bumpy in certain spots and looks like there might be something trapped behind it.

But perhaps the most alarming of her possessions are the jars of floating…body parts. There are dozens of them. Maybe even hundreds. Some of them look animal, and some look fae. A cold sweat breaks out over my body like I’ve been doused in water and I quickly avert my eyes.

She stands in front of the cauldron, watching me with her many eyes, still not saying a word. “Arachno, I’ve come to make a trade.”

Slowly, her thin lips stretch out into a smile. I expect her teeth to be rotten or missing, so I’m thrown off-guard when I see a set of dazzling white teeth, even if they are a bit sharp. It doesn’t match with the rest of her haggard, unpleasant appearance.

“The little bird wants to make a trade,” she says. Her voice is as rough as gravel and deeper than any woman’s I’ve ever heard.

I nod. Ronak warned me to only speak when absolutely necessary, and I intend to stick to that. This woman may look old and grotesque, but I have no doubt that she’s incredibly powerful. Even the guys seemed frightened of her, and they don’t frighten easily.

She motions for me to sit down on one of the jutting rocks beside the fire, and she sits on another rock across from me. I’m secretly relieved to be sitting. The pain in my stomach has only grown since I first felt it, and I wrap my arm around my front to try and ease the discomfort. I check my hands, too, just in case. Still there. Whew.

“So, the little red bird thinks she has something to trade Arachno?” she rasps. “The little bird crossed into Arachno’s barrier. The little bird comes alone. The little bird carries something she thinks Arachno will want. But the little bird is so scared, she wants to fly away,” she says, ending on a cackle.

I watch her guardedly as she laughs, keeping my mouth shut. She really likes to speak about herself in the third person. I have to sit on my hands to keep them from shaking. I hear a scuffling noise on the far end of the room behind the stringy mess of a wall. I think I see one of the bumps moving, but I draw my eyes back to Arachno.

Reciting the rehearsed words, I say, “I need a glamour, and I have hair from genfin tails to trade for it.”

I pull out the pouch Ronak gave me. Without looking away from Arachno, I reach in and pull out the hair from the guys’ tails. There’s a mixture of black, blonde, and brown haired tufts. Arachno’s beady eyes zero in on the hair in my hand and she slips out a dark purple tongue to lick her lips hungrily. “Arachno has not had hair of a genfin tail. Arachno will accept this,” she says.

When she reaches for it, I close my hand around the hair and pull back. “Glamour first,” I say.

Arachno opens her mouth and cackles again. “The little bird is a fool for coming here, but maybe not such a fool after all.”

“The glamour,” I say again firmly, wanting to get out of here. Every second I’m here feels like I’m getting closer to my death.

“Stand,” Arachno says, getting to her feet.

She steps forward and I have to force myself not to move back as she reaches toward me and clamps onto my arms. A bright blue glow of magic bursts between our touch, but she’s barely touched me when she suddenly snatches her hands away again, shaking them as if my touch hurt her. She narrows every single one of her beady little eyes on me. Her voice turns angry. “What is she, Arachno? This little red bird has strange magic on her. Glamour will not work on her, no. Glamour cannot hold onto little bird, just like barrier could not keep little bird out,” she says, talking to herself. “Some magic does not attach to the little red bird. But why? What is the little bird?”

“I—I…”

I was instructed by the guys to never, under any circumstance, tell her what I am. I have no idea why some magic works with me, and some doesn’t. Other magic, like when Evert heals me, and the cries of the banshees, has worked on me. But the barriers and the glamour don’t. I have no idea why.

“I am…different,” I finally decide to say.

Arachno sneers at me. “Arachno knows little bird is different. Arachno’s eyes can see that little bird is different, the little fool! The little, lying fool thinks she can trick Arachno!”

I shake my head adamantly and hold my hands up to appease her. The last thing I want to do is piss her off. I was warned against making her angry. “No, no tricks,” I promise. “I am different, but I only need to blend in better. No trick, Arachno. A trade. Just a trade.”

Arachno stops pacing to look at me again, tapping a bony finger against her pointed chin. “Arachno cannot glamour little bird. Glamour does not stick to little bird. But Arachno can let little red bird hide her wings.”

“Hide my wings?”

Arachno nods, making her stringy gray hair fall over some of her eyes. “Oh, yes. That magic should work on little bird. Different magic. But it will cost more than genfin hair. This is bigger magic, oh yes. Much bigger.”

I carefully consider her words, worrying that this is a trick. “You’ll do something to make it so I can hide my wings and bring them back out whenever I want?”

Arachno nods. “Arachno can do this.”

Hoping I’m not going to regret this but unable to see any loopholes, I nod. “Then I can trade you genfin tail hair, and the tongues of banshees,” I say, reaching into the pouch again. I pick up the tongues that are rolled inside a strip of cloth and hold them out for her to see. She smiles with delight, her eyes locking onto the repulsive tongues. Much to my horror, Arachno bends down and licks one of them. Gross.

She straightens up and gives me her sterling grin again, seemingly satisfied. “Arachno will make this trade with the little red bird.”

The fae turns around and starts digging through some of her possessions strewn throughout the cave. She starts systematically tossing things into the boiling cauldron, most of which I can’t see. Jars shatter inside, stoppers full of liquid go next, a box of ashes from a trunk, and a whole mess of other things I don’t get a chance to see before she tosses them in.

        Then she comes over and plucks a red feather from my wing without warning, eliciting a small yelp from me. She tosses that into the cauldron, too, and then begins to stir it all in a strange pattern, doing methodical types of mixing as she works. The mixture starts spitting and then begins to emit a bright red glow.

Finished, she tips the cauldron and pours the mixture into a jar, handing it to me. I close the lid and start to put it in the pouch at my hip, because there’s no way I’m going to drink this here with her. There’s no telling what it really is or what it could do to me. I’d better wait and do it in the company of the guys. Besides, I think I’m going to be sick. My stomachache is getting worse and beads of sweat have collected at my hairline from the pain. But before I can stow the jar away, Arachno shakes her head, stopping me. “No, little bird. Drink now, or it will not work. You drink. We trade.”

Dammit. If I die from drinking this, I’m going to be so pissed.