The King's Leash (The Fay Morgan Chronicles Book 7) Read Online Free PDF

They were easy enough to endure since we were aware of their purpose. The bright pink door was covered in locks. We knocked five times, and then five times again.
    No one answered.
    I pulled a bundle of shriveled tea roses from my cloak. I held it to the wooden door. “ Agored,” I whispered.
    The dried flower caught flame and burned bright.
    Before they had turned to ash, the Faerie door swung inward.
    “Once again, we stand on the edge of the unknown,” Merlin said with a hint of mischief threaded through his voice. “I've needed an adventure. With you.”
    “Aye,” I said, for I felt lifted by the day’s events as well. Nice not to dwell on that which I could not change. Nice to worry about someone else’s problems. “Faeries, come take me out of this dull world, for I would ride with you upon the wind,” I said, quoting Yeats.
    “Run on the top of the disheveled tide, and dance upon the mountains like a flame,” Merlin added, finishing the quote.
    We smiled, held hands, and stepped through.

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Chapter 4
    Seren
     
    It is a strange thing to step inside from a sun-filled day and emerge into a room brighter and sunnier still. But that is often the way of a faerie place, at least among the Seelie. And surely by the neon pink hibiscus blossoms that flowered everywhere and the thick scent of cotton candy, this was a realm of the Seelie. We stood in a bright-lit garden full of fruiting trees and trellised vines. Wrapped around every tree trunk were bright streamers, and strung between the trees were dozens of lines of flashing Christmas lights. Glow sticks sat pushed into the ground next to circles of dandelions. It had the look of a celebration gone on too long and lasting into the pitiless brightness of day. All faerie hills had different influences, and this one seemed enamored of glowing tchotchkes from the dollar store.
    “Are we late for the sylvan rave?” Merlin whispered.
    “Not late. Not allowed here,” a voice hissed somewhere above our heads.
    Something small and bright moved as quickly as a falling star across the ceiling.
    Somewhere, perhaps under this very hill or nearby, would be the opposite sort of place where the Unseelie dwelled. Faeries were a twinned species of light and dark, and only existed near their counterpart. Some made the mistake of thinking Seelie and Unseelie meant good and bad, when in fact it had more to do with impenetrable and ancient political schisms and aesthetics. But though a Seelie hill was a lovely place, make no mistake: a tiny slip of a flower nymph could drag you under and enslave you to her every whim as well as a warty bogle.
    “Get away while you can,” a deep voice said to our left.
    We searched the land, but whatever spoke remained hidden, likely behind a fallen tree covered in bright strands of lichen and glitter.
    Merlin and I walked forward into the faerie glen, and within a dozen strides faeries appeared on all sides of us. None stood taller than our knees. Dozens of fae with glassine and pastel butterfly wings flew around us in wide circles. They wore jauntily placed johnny-jump-ups on their heads and had spindly fingers that ended in needle-sharp nails. A handful of brownies buzzed around with them, making clicking noises with their strong jaws. There were faeries that resembled sentient bunnies and squirrels, with strange eyes and miniature weapons that they raised toward us.
    I tensed, thrust my hands into my pockets, and glanced at Merlin to make sure he was ready for whatever came next.
    He… smiled at them? As though he found them cute? And they were cute, of course, but that was one of their deadliest diversions. I had a sudden ill-feeling as I watched my wizard that he had never had a run-in with faeries in Wales. I searched my memories of every story he’d ever told me, and could think of no faerie tales. Damn the Queen and England. I should have asked him. I had assumed—
    “Greetings, gentle