Page 14 of This Prince Is Not Charming

“Fairwitch was always trying to kill Aoife’s spirit, but even they weren’t powerful enough to do something like that. Aoife fought until the end. Until she was killed in an uprising she led against the godwitches.”

Right. The Fair Folk had been created by the godwitches, meant to be their slaves, and that they’d rebelled. This had been their punishment from Fairwitch before they and all the godwitches left for the Otherworld—invisible to all, forgotten by humankind, who thought the Fair Folk to be nothing but myth. Until the faeries stumbled upon Fairwitch Isle, and we discovered we could see them, though we didn’t exactly know why. Some of our scholars surmised it was due to the castle’s powerful and unique magic.

Ambrose sighed. “The trials should be safe enough for those chosen to compete.”

I placed my hands on the table. “What does that mean?” These Fair Folk loved speaking in riddles, all packaged in their lovely little accents.

“I can help!” A pink wyrm with wings and the head of a dragon slithered up onto the table. He inched toward the book sitting in front of Fargus, and relief spread through me.

“Yes, please.”

Morton didn’t mince words. If anyone would give me the answers I sought, it would be him.

I’d had enough of these Fair Folk. Sometimes I wondered if they really wanted to be our allies. They had saved us two years ago when the Brotherhood of Magic had found our invisible city and were on the verge of attack. The Fair Folk appeared in our time of need and portaled our entire city to the top of Kiln Mountain, where their people resided. Since then we’d been trying to merge our communities, and it hadn’t been easy.

Fargus sighed and looked at Morton through the spectacles on the tip of his nose. “Do you truly have to devour the book?”

Morton paid him no mind as his mouth hinged open like a snake. Several of the Fair Folk looked away in disgust. He chomped the book, bits and pieces of paper and binding flying through the air, one hitting Fargus in the face. My adviser batted it away.

Finally, the book was gone, and Morton’s belly was distended and huge. He smacked his lips together. “Very old and stale.” He let out a loud belch that made Fargus flinch, and then the entire contents of the book came back out. A few of the Fair Folk squeezed their eyes shut like the entire ordeal was offensive.

The paper pieced itself back together with dizzying speed until the book was whole again, sitting on the table like Morton had never touched it.

“Well?” I asked.

Morton raised a shaggy brow. “Interesting. Very interesting.”

“Morton,” I warned, my patience wearing thin. The people were waiting for answers, waiting to understand what all of this meant, and it was my job to give it to them.

So I actually needed some damn answers from someone.

Morton raised his tail in the air. “Seven contestants. Six trials. Each one judged by the castle itself in place of Fairwitch.”

“What?” Fargus asked. “Where did it say that in the book?”

Morton’s shaggy brows furrowed. “It was an addendum. If I had to guess, it was added by Castle since Fairwitch is not here to judge. But their magic can still judge through Castle.”

I crossed my arms, not sure I liked this.

“What are the trials? When are they? How are the contestants judged? And are they in danger?” I thought of Ceri again, my throat growing tight.

“I’m getting there,” Morton said. “You know, you could do with a little patience.”

I stared into his glassy black eyes. “This is me being patient. Now get on with it.”

Morton harrumphed. “The trials are a surprise. Contestants will not find out what they are until the day they begin, when an appointed trials master will be there to explain the rules and make sure they are followed. If any contestant breaks a rule, the punishment is being locked in a room by Castle that may or may not disappear.”

My hands curled into fists.

“But I’m sure the rules will be followed!” Morton said, voice far too chipper. “When it is time for a trial, the contestants will be summoned.”

“Summoned how?” I asked. “And who’s summoning them?”

“I didn’t say I had all the answers. I only know what the book told me. I suppose we’ll find out when the first trial happens.”

“Maybe they get summoned by letter?” Wolfe suggested.

If I knew Castle, letters would be far too tame for its taste.