Stay tuned for the sequel. I think it'll be called "Silver Shards". What do you think of that title and of my story overall? Thanks for reading!

Chapter 21

"What did you do?" Will demanded as I stepped back into the infirmary. "Where did you go?"

When I didn't immediately reply he marched up to me, grabbed my shoulders and shook me. I backed away from him, still bitter about the previous night and his harsh words from earlier.

"I told you to not touch me," I ground out from between my teeth. Something that looked surprisingly like insult flashed through Will's eyes but I knew that my mind was simply playing tricks on me. Will didn't care about me. What made it worse was that I, through some strange and bizarre means, had come to care for him.

"We're leaving tonight," I informed him, even though it was partly a lie. "We're free to go."

The surprise on Will's face was plain. "What do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I said I mean. We're being brought back to Maine tonight."

Will's already pale face went whiter. "What did you give him? What did you do to convince him to let us go?"

I brushed past him, sat on a cot and drew my knees up to my chest. "That's really none of your business, Will."

"Damn it, yes it is!" He yelled, hitting the wall so hard that it dented. I jumped and flinched away from him when he stalked towards me.

"What did you promise him?"

He grabbed my shoulders and shook me again. I pushed him away and jumped to the other side of the bed.

"Nothing!" I cried. "I didn't promise him anything! You should be thanking me—and besides, even if I did promise him something why would you even care?"

The fight seemed to drain out of Will.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I don't know why I care."

I snorted and folded my arms. "I'll help you out here—you don't care, Will. You just don't."

I turned away from him and made my way over to the window. Leaning against the cool, hard glass, I sighed. "I just want to go home, Will. Isn't that what you want?"

He was silent for so long that I almost asked if he would rather stay here and be killed but, with a loud exhale, he spoke.

"Yes. That is what I want."

"Well then, stop complaining," I ordered while turning around and offering him a small smile. "You'll be out of here in no time—we all will. Even Michael."

The lie soured my tongue like rancid milk but I could tell that Will believed every word that was coming out of my mouth. He still didn't look happy, but he dropped the subject and I was grateful because I didn't like lying. Orland walked in just then, looked at me, then quickly appraised Will.

"You look better."

Will simply glowered at the Silver Faerie and said nothing. Nice to see that some things didn't change. Orland rolled his eyes and trained them on me. "Did you check his bandages?"

No, I hadn't, mainly because I'd been too annoyed with him to bother making sure that he wasn't bleeding to death or something like that. When I approached Will, he looked at me as if I were holding a very large and very dangerous weapon.

"Oh, don't look like that," I said. "I'm just checking your bandage, not performing open heart surgery."

I knelt beside him and lifted up the bottom of his shirt. Unbidden images of the previous night flooded my mind as I saw his abdomen and thought about how I had run my fingers over it. Shaking my head, I focused on the task at hand—and swore.

"Will! Why didn't you tell me that you bled through the bandage? Are you trying to kill yourself?"

"I didn't feel like talking to you this morning," he snapped. I growled at him, got new bandages and set to fixing the knife wound.

"I liked you better when you were delirious. You were much nicer."

"You only liked me better because you got to make out with me," he muttered. I inhaled deeply, ignored Orland's raised eyebrows, and pressed hard enough against Will's injury to make him wince.

"I can't wait until I can get rid of you," I informed him.

"The feeling is mutual," he said pleasantly. I sat down on my respective cot, and Will and I promptly ignored one another until night fell and a knock on the door signaled that we—or rather, Will—was to leave. I went with him anyways, just to avoid him making a scene, and met Puck, Michael, and the king at the front of the castle. There was a long, winding path that led from the front entrance to the forest and on the path was a large, silver carriage drawn by black horses. Puck spotted us and came over. He looked even worse than before, with more bruises and ripped clothing.

"What happened to you?" I asked quietly as we made our way towards the carriages. He brushed off my concern.

"What I want to know is what you did to get us out."

I sighed and decided not to answer.

"Well," the king started as we stopped in front of the carriage. "It's been far from a pleasure having you all here."

He looked at Will. "Tell mother I said hello."

Will sneered and stepped towards the king. I grabbed his arm and tightened my grip until he relented. My eyes found Michael and it frightened me to see that his only golden eye was silver on one side. It was good that he was getting away from here—from the influence of the Silver King.

Puck got into the carriage first, then Will. He turned around to help me in but I quickly bent down and pretended to tie up my boot. I became aware of a person in front of me and, when I looked up I saw that it was Michael. He braced himself against the carriage opening but, instead of getting in himself he slammed the door closed and locked it from the outside. I gaped and swirled around to face the king.

"You promised that you would let Michael go!"

"I did," he agreed. "And he didn't want to go."

"What do you mean?" I demanded, whirling around to face Michael. "What the hell? Do you like being forced to do things against your will? I did this mostly for you, you idiot!"

Michael just stared at me with his mostly silver eyes. Blinking back angry tears, I shook my head and stepped away from him. It was then that I heard Will yelling my name from inside the carriage and that, surprisingly, brought the tears out.

"Just bring them home," I muttered, wiping my eyes. The king yelled out an order that I didn't pay attention to and, with a loud crack of a whip, the horses dove into action and the carriage sped away down the path and into the gray forest. I watched it go and wondered why it felt like a section of my heart had departed along with it.

"Well, my dear," the king said as he took my hand and forced me to face him. "I held up my end of the bargain. Now, it's your turn."

"What do you want me to do?" I asked, my voice watery and thick. The king appraised me thoughtfully, then smiled.

"For now, a kiss would suffice."

Then he bent down and gave me what could only be described as a chaste peck on the lips. It was the type of kiss that you gave family members, and certainly not the kind of kiss I'd expected from the Silver King. Not that I was complaining. I wanted his lips, his body, and just himself as a whole as far away from me as possible at all times.

When he pulled away he was smiling and that grin reminded me so much of Will that I couldn't stop a few more tears from trickling down my face. The king reached out and caught one on the tip of his finger.

"You know," he started. "You are the only female I have yet to encounter who only looks more lovely when she cries."

At that, I turned my face away from him and wiped my cheeks dry. He seemed unaffected by my lack of response and, after placing a hand on the small of my back, led me back towards the castle. I could just barely hear Michael trailing behind us, like a lonely, lost puppy. A stubborn puppy that refused to let anyone else help him because he was too lost to realize that he needed saving.

I realized then that the king had been speaking to me, and that I had been completely ignoring him. I was about to reply with my trademark "what" but, considering this man was in charge of my life for...a very long while, I forced myself to be polite.

"Sorry? I didn't catch that."

"I was saying that it seemed unfair that I knew your name, but you didn't know mine."

"I thought Fae didn't like to give their names."

The king laughed as if I'd just told an insanely hilarious joke. "Why, of course I won't be giving you my full name. Only idiots do that. But I'll give you my first name—unless you rather call me "master". I wouldn't mind that."

I shook my head, only half-paying attention to the king. The other half of my mind was in the carriage, with Will and Puck. It was with Michael, behind us. It was with my family, and my friends. It was anywhere but here, because putting my full self into the clutches of the Silver King would cause me to cry pathetically.

"Are you paying attention, Jezzamyn?"

I jumped and looked at the king. I hadn't even realized that we'd stopped moving, and the low, dangerous tone to the king's voice made me anxious.

"Sorry," I murmured in what I hoped was a shy voice. "You were saying."

"That my name is Damien."

He reached out and gently stroked my face. "You and I are going to have so much fun together. I can just tell."

Fun? Fun was an afternoon of sledding down a hills and an evening of watching fireworks. Fun was late night movies with friends and watching the stars with your boyfriend. Fun was not being trapped in a castle made seemingly out of silver under the control of an insane king who enjoyed filling dead bodies with silver. I was certain that staying her would be a lot of things, but fun wasn't high up on my list of adjectives that I would use to describe my stay at the Silver King's castle.