“But, even if you are family, you gave your Faerie bridegroom your name; I cannot overlook that as long as he lives.” The Faerie King finished with a slight tilt of his head that was all Mr.Hobb. She felt sick. His words took time to register.
“I don’t understand what you mean,” she said.
He leaned closer to her. He smelled of flowers but also, unnervingly, champagne. “You have bound yourself to him, even if it was done unwittingly. I cannot be seen as too lenient to potential rivals, especially in times like these. So, I shall give you a head start.”
“Do not hurt her,” Thornwood growled.
“Rest assured, I have not forgotten about you. Soon there will be some clever punishment for your treachery, but in the meantime…” The Faerie King waved his hand again, and Thornwood crumpled to the floor. His mouth opened in a silent scream. Strands of green magic flowed out of him and to the Faerie King. Thornwood’s skin lost its color, and he seemed to wither, like a rose left too long in a vase.
“Stop it,” Mouse said weakly, her stomach twisting. “Please.”
The Faerie King lifted his hand. Thornwood, powerless, went limp.
“For you, I will. Think of it as my wedding gift to you,” he said. “Now, I am sure you’ve heard of a game I enjoyed when I was last in power. I know, at least, that you have admired my stone prizes.”
Mouse’s head spun, and she tore her gaze away from Thornwood. “A game?”
“The rules are simple. Make it out of the woods before the sun rises or my hunt catches you. As I said, I shall give you a head start. We are family, after all.”
The world came to life around them. Dark figures took hold of Thornwood, lifting him. He disappeared among the guests, who bustled around the room. Transformed Faerie frogs hopped up and down the ballroom. Some brave Faerie guests scooped the frogs into their dresses and pockets.
The Faerie King melted into the crowd.
Someone grabbed hold of Mouse’s arm. She shrieked.
“My lady, it is me.”
“Mickelwaithe, I—”
“There is no time. Follow.”
He pulled her out of the ballroom. The closer they moved toward the doors, the fiercer the Faerie guests became. Their teeth lengthened, their eyes glistened, and their mouths leered, but they stayed away, merely watching them as they ran. Mouse caught glimpses of the passing rooms, but they were unrecognizable. She saw a silver stream running through the dining room, a rocky plain in the music room, and a lush jungle in what was once a receiving room, but Mickelwaithe tugged her past the doors before she could take it all in.
“When things are enchanted and become sentient, they can make their own choices. Remember that some of the things here may not be loyal to the Faerie King. Use that to your advantage,” he said.
They ducked into the entry hall.
“Do not stop running until you reach the edge of the woods. Do not look back. And no matter what you do, do not get caught. Better to turn to stone than to be caught by the Faerie hunt,” Mickelwaithe said. As he spoke, he bundled Mouse into a thick brown coat that ended before the edge of her dress.
“Is that what happened to you?” she asked.
He shook his head as though shaking her words away.
“I made a deal, and I lost my true name,” he said. “But Thornwood is stripped of most of his power now, and by extension all the ancientdeals his family made are collapsing like dominoes. In a few minutes, I will be free.”
Mouse struggled to keep his words straight as he spoke them. “Free? Does that mean you are leaving?”
Mickelwaithe tightened the coat around her shoulders. “You are experiencing the aftereffects of a spell. It is manifesting like shock, it seems. You were a nurse—you know about shock, don’t you? Focus on your task. You can push through the haze, but it takes work.”
“I can’t run anywhere in this,” Mouse said, taking in the gauzy white dress that so enchanted her before.
“No, you are right.” The air frizzled, and the skirts of her dress transformed to dark trousers tucked into thick-soled boots. The bodice remained, the high collar tickling her throat. “I cannot give you a light, as that would lead them straight to you. You will know the hunt has started its chase when you hear the horn. Follow the path for as long as you can.”
“Thank you, Mickelwaithe. I feel that I owe you my life.”
“You owe me nothing, my lady. But should you need me, use this.” He pressed something small into her hands. When she looked down, an acorn gleamed in her palm. “I cannot help you evade the Faerie hunt, but I can help in other ways. If you are in need, rub the cap. Now run. Run and live.”
He opened the door, and Mouse darted into the night.