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The fear—the panic—was false. A spell. Some disgusting magic, no doubt placed here centuries ago by the Alytherians to stop the humans from leaving.
Then she had a thought and couldn’t help but laugh to herself. Instead of pulling, she pushed.
“I don’t see any ladies here. Just a little mouse with a shockingly filthy mouth.”
“My favorite stories are the ones I can escape into. The ones where I can leave behind this bleak existence and be somebody else, even if just for a little while. Someone braver than me. Someone with the power to change their circumstances.”
When she opened her eyes, she spotted a fox sitting at the edge of the garden wall. Its bright, keen eyes followed her back and forth, back and forth.
Isla threw up her hands. “He is the worst! Lore, never have a twin.” “Chances are slim I will ever acquire a twin,” she said.
“Yes, I did.” Finndryl’s voice was quiet as he spoke. “And I’ll kill you for touching her.”
His grin was feral, reminiscent of a cougar playing with its prey right before crushing its head beneath its paws.
Right. She’d forgotten for a moment that Finndryl was an ass.
“We can speak about this more when I return. Just don’t leave m— Don’t leave again.”
