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

creatures,” Merlin said and his smile broadened.
    I held back a groan. “Wild and brave Seelie fae,” I said, and gave them my deepest scowl. “We ask permission to grace your presence and parley.”
    “We are here because we have heard you need our help,” Merlin added.
    As one, the faeries that surrounded us hissed and raised their tiny weapons higher. More gathered every second we stood there. Some of them clapped their hands together, igniting faerie magic in their palms. Others opened up bags of faerie dust.
    “Dust them,” hissed a fae with purple hair and a sugarspun dress. “Dust them and keep them, why not? Do it.”
    “We are here to help,” Merlin said. “We were asked here by your trusted friend, to help with the creature.”
    “The slave ran,” said a fae with lop ears and clawed hands.
    “The slave lied,” added a nymph with silver wings and black teeth.
    “We will hunt him. We will eat him from brain to bone and back again,” another, one of so many, stated.
    All the faeries giggled.
    “Dear creatures,” Merlin blundered. “Perhaps there’s been some mistake. I—”
    “Quiet and say nothing,” I whispered to him and turned in a slow circle, letting myself see and be seen. I do not want this to end in battle, I thought. There was no need, and no easy outcome for either side.
    Besides, despite their terrible cruelties, I'd always had a fondness for fairies.
----
    In my youth, my mother and sisters had always told me faerie tales. So when I was twelve and newly come to Camelot and miserable, I had gone looking for one.
    The King’s River flowed high and wild in early spring, with water full of chunky mountain ice. I stood on the cold bank for a long moment, and then strode in. The water bit into my ankles with a coldness that seeped up my legs.
    A girl seeking faeries should look to the flower gardens for daphnaie and dryads. Or she should search in forest glens for the shy will-o’-the-wisps, blushing and fleet. A girl should not stand on the waters and call out again and again, “Come great Kelpie. Come.”
    But I was young and full of foolishness.
    The kelpie arrived on the crest of a frothy wave that crashed down on me and pulled my little girl legs into the water. Legs that I had felt so sure were strong enough to face anything. In truth they were made of string bean muscles and wish bones. The kelpie clamped onto my ankle with her sharp teeth and made a whirlpool around us with her thick body, spinning us in circles. I was dragged through the water, gasping and trying to keep from inhaling liquid into my lungs. I flailed and tried not to scream. I tried not to cry out for my mother like a child.
    The kelpie let go of my ankle and flung me into the middle of the magic-fueled whirlpool. It kept spinning, wilder and higher as we sat in the still middle of it. The great fae water horse stared at me with solemn yellow eyes.
    “You called. I am here. You are young to seek the watery death.”
    Up close, her huge face was all I could see. Her mouth was full of ragged and bleeding teeth. Her skin was flecked with foam and drops of water. She was a faerie and a horse, and I'd always loved horses. I reached out a hand, trembling and cold, to touch her cheek. My shaking hand dropped before I dared touch her. “I w-w-wanted to meet a faerie,” I said.
    “Who is the child who cries out for the kelpie and not the pookah nor the brownie?”
    “I-I-I'm Morgan le Fay.”
    The great horse faerie laughed. Her spittle hit my face. “Le Fay, you say. Where did you get that name, child?”
    “From my mother. And my m-m-mother's mother,” I stuttered. “On Avalon.”
    The great beast slowly blinked her burning yellow eyes once, twice, and again. “You are far from the isle of apples, child of man.”
    I nodded.
    “I have a sister there, that lives … ”
    “In the river Melys. My mother spoke of her. She always said on my twelfth birthday she would introduce me to her and today is my