Could drinking and eating the Fae gifts possibly make things worse than they were already? What could happen to me that would be worse than what had already happened? Worse than the terrible, tender pain inside me where my tormenter had tried to tear part of me out by the roots? I would die if I didn’t get more water than the steady drizzle could provide.
Tears tried to spring to my eyes and I blinked them back ruthlessly, unwilling to waste whatever small reserves of moisture remained in my body. I pictured Caspian leering down at me, waiting with glee for my resolve to break. Anger flared like a raging fire, and I struck out with my arm. The impact knocked the gourd across the cell. I heard water glugging—either the container had cracked or the cork had come out, and now the water was seeping away to join the raindrops in the dirt below me.
Temptation removed.
I knocked the bread away next, though it didn’t roll very far. It didn’t matter. Even if the drizzle had dampened it through its paper wrapper, I was pretty sure I couldn’t swallow it successfully without some liquid to moisten my mouth and throat first.
My body shuddered from a combination of cold and exhaustion. The mud I was lying on leached the heat from my muscles, and I felt like I’d been awake for days despite the long hours I’d apparently spent unconscious. My chattering teeth aggravated the pounding headache throbbing behind my temples. I opened my mouth again to the rain to stop my teeth repeatedly crashing against each other.
I tried to take stock. It was difficult for me to feel much about my succubus nature when I wasn’t actively drawing animus from someone. For an instant, my mind flashed back to Rans, his eyes closed in ecstasy as he came inside me; the feeling of complete safety and satisfaction I’d felt in his arms on the handful of occasions after we’d pleasured each other. Again, tears pricked behind my eyes, stinging like acid.
Had Caspian and his lackey succeeded at whatever they’d been trying to do to me? I didn’t think so. If they’d really ripped out my magic somehow, that part of me wouldn’t feel so tender and abused. At least, that’s what I was going to continue telling myself.
I kept my mouth wide open to the rain as I pondered, hoping that only water would fall into it and not, y’know, bird poop or something. But now the shower was easing off, and the steady drip-drip-drip had barely been enough to wet my mouth, much less for me to swallow any appreciable amount of it.
Out of sheer desperation, I marshaled what strength I could and scooted around until my face was pressed against the wall. It was damp from the rivulets of rain dripping down, so I started licking. Not even the threat of splinters in my tongue was enough to discourage me from lapping up every resin-flavored drop of moisture I could reach.
A brief flash of worry that Fae rain might still count as a gift flickered across my thoughts, but it was clear the rain had been meant as another torment rather than a blessing. Besides, it was too late. Once the first drop slid across my tongue, it was done, one way or another.
Too late, it occurred to me that the cessation of the rain might herald something else. By necessity, I’d let my body fall back to the ground once I’d licked up all the moisture I could reach from the wall. My shivering was bad enough that I didn’t notice the return of my invisible, scurrying companions from the previous night until one skittered across the bare skin of my hand.
I would’ve shrieked, but all that emerged from my dry throat was a choked wheeze. Suddenly, they were all over me, and I was too weak to lunge to my feet and shake them off—whatever they were. I tried to flail, but just ended up flopping around a bit like a broken marionette. Panic clawed at me, the instinctive human fear of small things with scurrying legs.
The bread, I remembered. They were probably after the bread, not me.
Focusing what little strength I had, I shuffled toward where I thought the bread had ended up and felt around until my forearm brushed it, trying to ignore the scuttling around me. I grabbed the loaf, gritting my teeth when several somethings wriggled out from beneath my grip. I’d been right—the paper wrapping was gone and I could feel holes eaten through the crust.
I threw it across the cell, hearing a soft thump-plop noise. Though I hadn’t been trying to, I must’ve slam-dunked it right into the shit-pit. The idea was a bit stomach-turning, but I stopped caring about that when—a few moments later—all of the sounds of rustling headed for that side of the hollow tree and stayed there.
Whatever the things were, I hoped they all came down with horrible E. coli infections and died before morning.
With the excitement evidently over, I lay trembling on the ground in a fetal position, wishing desperately that I could fall asleep and knowing it was completely hopeless. As I had the previous night, I drifted in and out of a semi-aware state, dreading what the morning might bring.
* * *
Unsurprisingly, the morning brought Caspian’s return. A portal sizzled into existence, dragging my fractured awareness back to the here-and-now. The floating ball of light whizzed through, dazzling my exhausted eyes, and Caspian followed.
He did not make the gesture I’d noticed other Fae use to close the portal, but it snapped shut behind him nonetheless. I forced my sluggish mind to think back over my unpleasant association with the man in front of me, connections slipping into place.
I ran my tongue over the roof of my
