Tam stood utterly still as two faerie maidens swirled about him. One fixed gilded oak leaves to the front of his tunic while the other wove a cloak of cobwebs about his shoulders. The faerie glade was glittering with excitement, but none of it touched him. He felt as if there were a layer of fog between him and the world. Between his thoughts and his heart.
In the shadows, Bard Thomas strummed his guitar. Silvery riffs of music blended with the laughter and motion of the fey-folk, and the words of Thomas’s song lilted to Tam.
“Tonight so mirk and deep we ride,
Depart unseelie from the glade,
This Hallow’s Eve the Hunt will bide,
To pay the tiend the Faerie Rade.”
Half of it sounded like gibberish, but it was clear the faeries were getting ready to go somewhere. And taking him wit
