FROM A DARK, DAMP DUNGEON full of promises of suffering and death, Nahtaia stepped into a grassy meadow. The shackles unlocked and fell to the floor. Lerth and Greng, who followed hesitantly behind, didn’t bother trying to replace them.
Wildflowers swayed in a cool breeze that smelled of lilac and calmed the faeries’ senses. Nahtaia looked back at the sentries whose faces held no hope of an answer as to what happened to the dungeon.
“Men of the faery realm,” the words were not spoken with a solid voice but as a whisper on a new breeze. “Return to your world.”
Lerth and Greng exchanged disappointed glances, then when a strong wind blew against them, hurried back from where they came. Nahtaia swallowed hard, not sure whether she was nervous or glad to see them leave. She was alone now. Ju
