The shadow reached into Robin’s shirt and slowly eased the lamp out. Once it was well and truly in his hand, the shadow—who Robin now knew could be none other than Thrane—forced Robin’s fingers across the length of the lamp, and then ran like a wraith across the bridge and up the side of the hill toward the camp. And just as Nixie had said, Maurice came into view a moment later, a fight ensued between the two of them, and Nix stood off to the side looking at them in a confused daze.
“Robin?” she’d asked, frowning at the bodies lying on the ground beside her. Only to then glance over and gasp in shock as John woke and, without even a word of warning, tackled her down to the ground.
Robin was breathing heavy by the time Danika’s image melted away. His eyes found John’s and for the first time in his life, he wanted to physically break his friend. Wanted to shove his sword through the man’s gut for daring to hurt her in that way.
John would not look back at him.
The brothers looked down at their feet before Thrane whispered softly, “I was overcome.”
Maurice never uttered another word, but there was a look of shame overtaking him.
John groaned. “Bloody hell.”
And though Robin heard the remorse, it didn’t assuage his fury.
“How?” Robin asked Thrane. “Did you drug me?”
Danika’s wings buzzed impatiently. “That’s a right dumb question, Hood. You know he has, or they both have. What does it matter? You’ve seen what they’ve done, and now you know what you must do.”
She sounded not just irritated, but angry, and if Robin had to guess at why, it was because of the way his men treated the genie. The fairy was right: there was only one thing left to do.
Nixie rubbed her left bicep in a repetitive up and down motion, as if to soothe herself. Robin wanted to tug her into his arms, wanted to promise her it would never happen again.
“Genie, we must speak.” Robin looked at the rest of the group. “Alone.”
Patting the genie’s arm, Danika nodded. “I should leave, love, I just…”—she shot a meaningful glare at the men—“I couldn’t let them blame you for something you hadn’t done. And know this, Robin Hood.” The tiny fairy twirled on him. “I’m always watching. You treat her right or I’ll sic my witch on you.”
For all that she was tiny, the wee fairy had an aura about her that seemed larger than life. He wasn’t afraid, but he knew she’d not given him an idle threat.
Fairy godmothers were generally considered to be gentle and motherly, yet another lie perpetuated by themselves and their masterful storytelling.
Giving the genie a kiss on the cheek, Danika whispered, “I’ll let your parents know how you are, dear. ‘Tis good to see ye back among the living.”
With those final words, she vanished.
Turning to look at John, Robin clipped his head. “Stay here, all of you.”
John’s eyes narrowed as he drew a hammy fist through his hair. “I did not know.”
As far as apologies went, it was weak. Robin was still too angry to accept it. With a glare at his men, he shook his head.
His men wanted her. John was too prone to wanting to kill her. Robin had hoped by keeping their camps separate an incident like this would never happen, but now he saw he’d need to waste a wish after all.
Bloody hell.
“All of you make your way back to Sherwood. The genie and I travel separately,” he snapped.
Robin was sure it was only John’s sense of duty that made him obey. Turning on his heel, the big man walked over to the brothers. “Get up then, you bloody bastards.” He slapped Thrane in the back of the head forcefully.
Crooking a finger at Nix, Robin swiped up her lamp and tucked it beneath his shirt, back where it belonged. Some of his anger immediately calmed when the cool metal rubbed against his heat.
The genie sidled over to him, so close that the fabric of her clothes brushed up against his arm. He took several deep, steadying breaths to bring his tumultuous emotions back under control.
When had Thrane drugged him? When he’d gone up to their camp earlier for the rabbit? She’d eaten the rabbit too and had seemed to suffer no ill effects.
Then he recalled the bit of wine he’d had when Thrane had thrust his pouch in Robin’s face. He’d never thought to say no. Never thought it was anything other than a simple offering of wine.
Money had never come between he and his men before, thieves they might all be, but he’d always somehow thought them honorable when it came to their own.
Now he knew, all men had their price. Even the most loyal.
Her skin looked pale, the whites of her eyes red.
“You need sleep.” He said it low, feeling suddenly terrible that she’d yet again been made to suffer at the hands of men he’d thought he’d known.
“What I need,” she whispered back, “is to be freed of this curse. But since that’s not likely to happen anytime soon, then I’ll just settle for you making your wishes so I can get the hell away from here.”
He flinched and she closed her eyes, rubbing her fingers over her clavicle.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered, “I shouldn’t have—”
He grabbed her hand until she opened her eyes. “Yes, you should. You have every right to be angry. At them. At me. We’ve all treated you poorly.”