Page 83 of A Lady’s Guide to Fae Kings

“You are a light that shines without burning.”

“Kind of you to say, my lady.”

Pippa wiped mud off her cheek. “It has been a very trying day. I don’t suppose I could put you in my basket for a few minutes?”

Bartholomew blinked at her.

“I won’t hurt you,” she promised. “I only need to bring you to the bridge for a moment.”

“You’re going to see the knight!” the worm exclaimed. “I haven’t seen him in such a long time. Come on, then!”

Pippa could have wept with gratitude. Her legs were wobbly and she did not think she could roam the bog much longer searching for the last part of the riddle. “You are the kindest, most handsome worm I have ever seen.”

“Did he just smirk at me?” Lachlan muttered when Pippa gently placed Bartholomew in the basket.

“Mind the egg,” she said as he wrapped his silk thread around the handle, swinging happily.

“Don’t follow the causeway,” Bartholomew said. “It takes ages that way. Take a left there at the crooked willow.”

Pippa and Lachlan exchanged a glance. “Are you certain?” she asked gently.

“Lived here my whole life,” Bartholomew replied.

Lachlan led the way, dagger at the ready. He pushed the fronds aside and they were suddenly in a patch of sunlight. Bartholomew definitely smirked this time. “Told you so.”

The bridge was just down a grassy incline, made of round stones and thick with ivy. The leaves fluttered under a warm breeze. The wide, flashing river curled like a silver snake.

The knight waited at the mouth of the bridge. His plate armor was patterned with lichen and moss, from his helmet to his greaves. It meandered over his engraved chest plate, blooming with tiny white flowers over his gauntlets. He did not say a word as they approached, merely blocked the way. His sword was as tall as Pippa.

She held up her basket. “I believe you know Bartholomew. He is the light that shines without burning.”

“It is my new title.” Bartholomew showed off his glow.

The knight inclined his head.

Pippa pointed to the lizard’s tail. “A limb shed with no blood.”

The knight paused just long enough for Pippa to break out in a cold sweat before he nodded again.

“And the egg is an animal with no bones.”

The knight stepped aside.

Pippa exhaled with relief. “I just have to return the egg,” she said. Lachlan, the knight, and the worm looked at her. “I promised,” she insisted. “And it would be rude not to. Not to mention murderous.”

Lachlan shook his head, amused and mildly exasperated. “I’ll take care of it.” He held out his hand for the basket and stepped sideways. When he returned, there was a new scorch mark on his sleeve. “She was not grateful,” he said.

Pippa did not know if she was allowed to say thank you as they were already bound together, so she kissed his cheek instead. He stilled, his throat working.

All that was left was to step on the stone bridge.

It did not take them across the winding river redolent with wild mint and ringing bluebells, but back to the hill fort. The noise was deafening. The Fae were clapping and stomping their feet again, well pleased with their entertainment. The other Tithes looked as bedraggled as Pippa, mud-spattered, streaked with algae and blood. Roman spat out lily petals. Molly had acquired a magenta-pink snake.

The Hag nodded to them and vanished.

It took less than a full minute for gowns of moss and crowns of thistles to come flying off. A pair of breeches made of stitched oak leaves flew past Pippa’s shoulder, landing at her feet.

The moaning came next.

Pippa blinked. “Do all Fae gatherings devolve into orgies?”

“More often than not,” Lachlan replied. “Care to stay?”

She shook her head. After a moment of consideration.

After all, everyone appeared to be having a very good time.

“I saw that pause,” Lachlan said with a low chuckle. “I’ll remember that.”