I step closer to her, still cloaked in shadow.
She places her hand on her throat. “You mean my singing?”
“Singing.” I know that word; I have just never heard the sound that it applies to. It has always been an abstract concept to me until now. “Is that what you call that?”
She’s angry at me. She thinks I am toying with her for my own enjoyment. She will leave if I don’t do something. I step out from my hiding spot in the dark.
She takes a step back, as if nervous. I don’t want her to go.
I try to reassure her as I come closer.
“I just wanted to know what that was you did with your voice. And with that.” I point at the object she holds. “I’ve never heard anything like it before.”
She gives me a confused look, and I wonder if she does not understand my question. I want to explain further, but I am distracted by her nearness. Energy pulses through my body, stronger than my heartbeat. The sunlight streaming through the canopy of the grove glints off her golden hair, and the curves of her body make my hands prickle with heat that is unlike what I normally experience before a surge of lightning. Her blue eyes, brighter than the mortal world’s sky, meet mine.
I stand still, letting her look at me. I can feel the fire swirling in my eyes. Finally, I blink, unable to bear the intensity.
“Are you real?” I ask her. I have heard stories of mystical creatures that can enchant men with their voices. It is one of the reasons this singing—music—is forbidden in my world. And she is unlike any mortal female who has ever been brought to my realm.
I have also heard stories of sprites that can create mirages.
I raise my hand toward her face, wanting to touch her to see if she is real, but I hesitate, not quite wanting to know the answer. She lifts her hand toward mine, and I can feel electricity pulsing into my fingers. I look from her eyes to her mouth and then lower. A golden pendant sits in the hollow of her neck.
It spells something in English. It takes me a second to translate it. “Daphne?” I ask, dropping my hand. Can I really be reading that correctly? Can it really be her? “You’re Daphne Raines?”
“Yes,” she says.
The energy coursing through my body intensifies with her positive response.
I cannot believe my good fortune. For once in my life, the Fates have smiled on me. I have followed my impulses—no, my instincts—to this place, and here she is.
I’ve found her. My Boon. My prize. My destiny. Just waiting here to be plucked, like an asphodel blossom. With the gate, pulsing with life, only a few yards away, at that. This couldn’t be more perfect.
An idea strikes me like an arrow hitting a bull’s-eye. Why wait six months to do what I can accomplish right now?
I could be the fastest-returning Champion in the history of the Underrealm. Surely that would warrant glory and honor like no one has received before me. Rowan could not call me a failure again. My father would not look at me as though I am a disgrace.
But at the back of my mind, a worry pulls at me, making me wonder if the situation is too good to be believed. Why would Dax implore me to be patient if my quest were this easy to accomplish? I hesitate for a moment.…
No, I must act.
I reach for the girl’s hand. “Will you come with me?”
She pulls away. “Um, no.”
“I need you to come with me,” I implore.
“I need to leave,” she says quickly, hitching up the long object she’d been strumming on a few moments before. It did not seem dangerous then, but now she holds it as if it can be used as a weapon.
It doesn’t frighten me.
“Say you’ll come with me.” She has to say it. I know that from the Oracle’s instructions. She has to go willingly. I need to convince her. I advance toward her. I can be persuasive like Rowan. “You have to say you’ll come.”
“Get away from me, perv!” She backs away. “Creep!”
I reach out again, trying to clasp her wrist. Electricity surges into my arm, and before I can stop it, a spark of lightning escapes my fingers. She yelps with pain and twists out of my grasp. I reach for her again, and her fist—thankfully not the one holding the wooden object—goes flying at my face. I am so surprised by the action that I don’t have time to block the blow before she punches me. Hard. In the jaw. I stop, completely stunned, and clasp my hand to my face. I’m not injured. It would take more than her small hands to hurt me. But I am still shocked. I did not know Boons are capable of violence.
I don’t regain my composure quickly enough to stop the girl from getting away. She grabs an object, which I recall from Simon’s monologue is called a bicycle. She glances back at me as she flees, fear dancing in her blue eyes.
chapter twelve
DAPHNE