Page 21 of Fallen Court

Her touch was featherlight, skin cool and soft on mine. No pain came. I pried open an eye to find Ilsa studying the ring, but she didn’t touch it. Instead, she began a low chant in a strange language. Hairs pricked on the back of my neck as the energy in the room shifted, her voice weaving through it until delicate threads of light appeared all around us. They shimmered, winking in and out of sight. I opened my eyes entirely, unable to resist their hypnotic pull.

Oberon drummed his fingers on his arms behind her, sighing heavily. Marin’s eyes widened, and she cleared her throat ever so slightly. How could they be so blasé in the presence of magic?

Ilsa’s eyes lifted to mine, and she gave a slight, nearly imperceptible shake of her head. My mouth opened, questions poised to jump out at her, but she dropped my hand before I could say a word.

“It’s an old binding spell,” she announced, turning away from me.

“Unbind it,” Oberon snapped.

She answered with a serpentine smile. “It’s not that simple. The ring is bound to her. Only she can remove it.”

“But I can’t,” I blurted out, cheeks growing hot. “I tried.”

The last thing I needed was for Oberon to think I was trying to screw him. I tugged on the ring, yanking with all my strength until I found myself gasping from the pain.

“Either she is a very good actress, or you’re wrong,” Oberon said.

But Ilsa shrugged. “I’m not wrong, and she is not acting. Only she can remove it, but only when its conditions have been met.”

“What the hell does that mean?” I glared at her. It wasn’t enough that I needed to get this stupid ring off, that doing so would break my promise to Lach, that giving it away would mean surrendering the only tangible link to my parents. Now I had to pass a test, too?

“Something is holding you back from removing it,” Ilsa continued. “You do not wish to remove it, so you cannot.”

“Oh, I wish to remove it.” And then I was going to jam it down someone’s throat.

“She looks positively violent.” Oberon’s laugh grated on my fraying nerves. “I think I believe her.”

“There may be another way. If you are interested?” Marin directed the question at Oberon.

He nodded. “That would be useful.”

Ilsa tensed but didn’t interrupt as Marin went on. “It’s old magic, which means it will play by old magic’s rules. In the past, magic often attached to specific people.”

Oberon beckoned her to continue more quickly. “Just tell me what needs to be done. I don’t need a history lesson.”

“There is another old binding spell that might trick this one. A handfasting might convince the ring that you are her.”

My stomach flipped, words failing me. She didn’t mean…

“Explain.” Oberon didn’t look nearly as disturbed as he should.

“When a witch’s handfasting is blessed by the goddess, the couple ceases to be two individuals in the eyes of magic.”

“And the two shall become one,” he murmured. His lip curled, and my stomach sank further. “So, I marry her, and the ring thinks I’m her?”

I couldn’t just sit here and act like I was okay with this. “Absolutely fucking not. That is not part of the bargain.”

They ignored me, Marin nodding. But Ilsa shook her head. “She would have to prepare like a witch. It won’t work if she doesn’t perform the sacred rituals to the goddess. The union must be blessed.”

“And how long will these rituals take?”

Marin seemed undeterred by her companion’s objection. “Three nights of rituals. The third must be performed at midnight under the moon.”

Laughter bubbled inside me, a hysterical edge taking hold. “You can’t actually be serious.” I glared at Oberon. “I’m not marrying you.”

But he continued to ignore me. “Make the arrangements.”

Ilsa cast one final glance at me, sadness in her eyes. Maybe she felt bad for selling someone out to save her friend, but it wasn’t going to stop her from doing it. Hate welled inside me, even as I could admit I didn’t blame her. “We will return tonight to perform the first ritual.”