Spellbinder (Moonshadow #2)

Snatching at it, she fumbled to get the top open and drank thirstily until the flask was dry. When she finished, he took the flask from her, then grasped her fingers to guide her hand forward and down to what felt like an open canvas bag or backpack.

“Last time I was in a hurry to get here as fast as I could. This time I came better prepared,” he murmured. As he talked, his hand guided her fingers to each of the bag’s contents. “There’s more bread and fruit—grapes, cherries, and an apple. There’s also boiled eggs. They’re already peeled. There’s a soft cheese you might enjoy with the bread, half a roasted chicken, and a honey-and-nut pastry. I also have a few more flasks of water. You can save food for the daytime, especially since you can throw the scraps down the privy, but I can’t leave a flask or the bag with you, so you should drink as much as you possibly can.”

The too-easy tears slipped down her face again as she felt the largesse inside the bag. Grasping one of the eggs, she bit into it, chewed and swallowed. It was indescribably delicious.

She whispered, “I saved the grapes to eat during the day, because they carried so much moisture.”

“That’s smart thinking,” he told her. “If you hold on to the fruit, it will help you get through the day.”

“I don’t know what to say, except again, thank you so much.” She crammed the last of the egg into her mouth.

His light touch withdrew from her wrist. “As I said last night, don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do.”

She started on another egg while she considered that. Maybe it was true. Maybe it was partly his fault she was here. But mostly, she thought, it was her kidnapper Robin’s fault. And the fault of every Light Fae she had met since arriving at their encampment.

“You didn’t have to do anything,” she pointed out. “And I would still be here, trapped in the dark, eating and drinking terrible food. I’d probably have dysentery by now. So yes… thank you.”

“All right, then,” he replied with a kind of grave courtesy that sent warmth running through her. “You’re welcome.”

She hesitated, thinking. She had things to say to him, and things to ask, but she was still hungry and didn’t want to sour her only enjoyment. Finishing the second egg, she considered what to eat next.

Sweets could make one thirsty, so she should eat the honey pastry while she still had access to plenty of clean drinking water. Locating the pastry, she bit into one corner and almost moaned. It was flaky, buttery, and the top had been sprinkled with pecans. It was utterly delicious.

As she ate it, she said, “Where did you get the food? This is fresh.”

“There’s a night market in the city,” he told her. “Certain stalls are open until midnight.”

That sounded lively, intriguing. In an Other land, a market like that would be filled with exotic sights and sounds and interesting merchandise. She might want to go shopping there, if she didn’t already want to burn Avalon with hellfire.

Carefully, focusing all her attention on the pastry, she finished it and sighed. “That was wonderful.”

A smile entered his voice. “I have a fondness for them too.”

So he liked sweets. Along with the fact that he had magical ability, it was virtually the only thing she knew about him.

She ate a chicken wing, and when she was done, she walked carefully over to the privy to toss the bones inside. Another question occurred to her. “Do they ever dig out the contents of this?” If they did, it must be beyond horrible.

“The privy? No. The hole goes to an underground river. There are grates over the river where it flows to the sea, which is why you can’t shove anything like the flasks or the bag down the hole, or eventually someone will find it.”

Even though he couldn’t see it, she nodded, thinking. The rats probably used the underground river system to get around. She hadn’t heard them since her benefactor had arrived. Perhaps he’d scared them away.

She said, “If I had the Power to shapeshift into something small, say a mouse or a rat, I could go down that hole.”

“You could, if you had the stomach for it. It would have to be something small, or the grates would catch you and you would drown. But you don’t have the Power to shapeshift.”

“No.” Now she knew a third thing about him—he knew a lot about the underground prison. She turned away from the hole and made her way back to the cot.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes.” Taking a deep breath, she braced herself to start asking the more uncomfortable questions, but he forestalled her.

“I have something else for you.” The bag on the floor rustled as he rummaged in it, then he took hold of her hand and pressed something into it. Then something else.

She felt the items curiously. One was long, thin, and had bristles at one end, and the other felt like a tube. “Oh, my God,” she whispered. “You brought me a toothbrush and toothpaste.”

“I have a jar of lavender mixed with arrowroot that you can rub through your hair and brush out. It works like a dry shampoo. The arrowroot soaks up the oils, while the lavender adds some freshness. And there’s a container of wet wipes.” Even though she didn’t know him, she thought she could hear a smile in his voice. “It’s not the same as a shower or a bath, but at least it’s something.”

The tears came back, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. When she did, her whisper came out thick and choked. “Now I’m beyond words.”

“I know how you feel,” he said gently. “A long time ago, I spent some time in one of these cells.”

Her breath caught. “You did? How long were you down here?”

It was so hard to tell expression from a whisper, but his reply seemed flat and expressionless as he told her, “Over a year.”

A year. She was going crazy after just a few days, and he had spent over a year down here in the dark, without extra food, water, or comfort, and he still sounded sane. She would not survive a year down here, even with his help.

Her lips trembled. “I can’t imagine.”

A small silence fell. Finally, still in that flat, expressionless tone, he said, “One day at a time, Sidonie. That’s all either of us can do.”

He had flasks, from Earth, wet wipes, and tubes of toothpaste and travel toothbrushes. That meant he had access to the crossover passageways. And he had spent over a year imprisoned, and he’d not only survived but he’d been set free again. That meant Isabeau valued him, and to some extent, despite his imprisonment, she trusted him.

Her shoulders tightened, but she was still not yet ready to start asking the tougher questions. Instead, she turned her attention to the treasures he had given her.

She asked, “And you can’t see me, right?”

“I can see better than you can,” he said. “I can see where you are, and your general posture. I can tell if you’re standing or kneeling, but you’re nothing more than a shadowy shape to me.”