Fae Games

by Sofia Daniel

  I glanced around for signs of McVittie, but couldn’t find him slinking from trunk to trunk. The cat was maybe a hundred years old and had probably curled up somewhere and fallen asleep. It made me wonder if he had considered if breaking the curse would turn him into a withered old man, too weak to support his body weight.

  As we crossed a meadow and approached a copse of trees, a figure paced in the distance with hair that looked ruby-red in the light of the setting sun. It was Prince Bradwell, dressed in blue breeches and a matching jacket instead of the usual academy uniform.

  Two guards stepped out from behind a kissing tree. The taller of the pair said, “Who goes there?”

  “It’s only Puke, the overgrown moth,” said the shorter one.

  Keeping close to Pokeweed’s side, I clenched my fists and clamped my lips together. What was it with these bloody guards needing to act like overgrown dicks?

  “Hey, Puke.” The taller guard swaggered over to Pokeweed with his chest puffed out. “Have you seen Unity Quayle?”

  Pokeweed walked past them, acting as though they were invisible.

  “Hey,” said the taller guard. “I was talking to you.”

  Pokeweed gave them the barest glance over my shoulder. “Then perhaps you should address me by name and not with an insult.”

  “Have you seen her or not?” the other faerie snapped.

  “Not for at least a day.” Pokeweed continued toward Prince Bradwell, who turned toward us and frowned.

  I stared ahead, hoping Prince Bradwell would intervene. These assholes acted like they were trying to pick a fight, and I didn’t want Pokeweed to get into more trouble after he’d turned those other guards’ dicks into mushrooms.

  “How do we know you’re not lying?” sneered one of the guards from behind.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” Prince Bradwell snapped.

  The two guards stepped away from Pokeweed, and the shorter of them cleared his throat. “Your Highness—”

  “Idiots like you bring the king’s guard into disrepute.” Prince Bradwell strode toward us, his hands clenched into fists. ”If you wish to make inquiries, do so without insulting innocent folk.”

  The shorter male frowned. “With all due respect, Your Highness, half-bloods—”

  “Deserve as much respect as anyone else.” Prince Bradwell’s nostrils flared. “Or would you like to contradict me?”

  The guard lowered his head. “No.”

  Pokeweed walked away, his shoulders hunched, and his arms shaking with rage. He’d been so much calmer when that guard had pissed at his feet. I stared after him, piecing together the events of the day. I guess a strong faerie like him didn’t like the thought of being rescued.

  “Get out of my sight,” said Prince Bradwell.

  The two guards turned back toward their hiding place. With the greatest of care, I crept toward him and placed a hand on his chest. He drew in a sharp breath through his teeth but remained silent. As the guards disappeared around the kissing trees, I stepped on his feet and wrapped both arms around his neck.

  Prince Bradwell’s wings extended, and he soared into the dark sky.

  My stomach lurched, and my lips parted for a noisy gasp as we rose above the treetops. The only thing keeping me from falling to my death was the strength of my grip around the prince.

  “You’re safe, now,” he murmured.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “To the font of the Spring Court.” He wrapped a strong arm around my back, securing me to his front. “The place I go to recharge my magic. I think there’s something there that you need to see.”

  Chapter 18

  Passing the academy wards in Prince Bradwell’s arms was painless, and we traveled over woodland, over lakes and over frost-covered peaks to the east of the island, away from the setting sun.

  A few birds flew close by, including an owl and a peculiar looking albatross that Prince Bradwell explained worked for Queen Titania, but nobody bothered us throughout the journey.

  “What do you mean by a font?” I wanted to wrap my legs around his hips, but the skirt of my gossamer dress didn’t allow for much movement.

  “Each type of magic on the Isle of Fae has a source,” he replied. “The Winter Court magic is high in the north up in a frozen cave somewhere, there’s a hot spring close to the academy that connects to Summer Court magic, and the Autumn Court’s font is somewhere in the Justice Forest.”

  “And the Spring Court?” I asked.

  “Hold on tight, and I’ll give you a tour.” His wings sliced through the air like a sword, and a gust of warm wind propelled us over the mountaintops.

  Tightening my hold around Prince Bradwell’s neck, I glanced down at the scenery. The pointed tops of pine trees jutted out to us like dagger-tips, but they soon gave way to trees with a rounded canopy. As we progressed across the land, the foliage became more and more sparse until we flew over what looked like a graveyard of skeletal trees.

  An unpleasant shudder traveled up my spine. “What’s this place?”

  “The border,” he replied.

  I was about to ask for more information when a faint floral scent curled around my senses, and I glanced down to find pale buds shining like beads of gold in the light of the setting sun.

  “Is this Spring Court territory?” I asked.

  “We’re getting close.” He spread his wings wide, and we glided through the air.

  With each passing moment, the buds grew larger until the trees bloomed with blossoms of pink and white and violet. By now, the sun dipped behind the mountaintops on the west. The moon slipped out behind the clouds, bathing us and the trees beneath in a mix of orange and silvery lights.

  My heart quickened, and my breaths became shallow with excitement. A mix of warm and cool air swirled around us as though the weather couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be winter or spring.

  “This is gorgeous,” I said.

  Prince Bradwell swooped down toward the treetops. “Wait until we reach our destination. ”

  As he descended through the branches, I squeezed my eyes shut, expecting them to tear at my clothes and flesh. Instead, petals caressed the exposed parts of my skin, and a floral cherry scent filled my nostrils, making me open my eyes again.

  We flew under the canopy of giant trees that lined a vast pathway strewn with pink petals from where the blossoms overhead had fallen. Light streamed through the tiny flowers, making the space brighter than it had been outside. Sweat slicked the palms of my hands, which threatened to slip off Prince Bradwell’s neck. I had no idea something as breathtaking as this place existed on the island.

  “Is this it?” I whispered.

  Prince Bradwell chuckled. “This is just the boulevard. Where we’re going is straight ahead.”

  At the end of the tree-lined passage stood a four-story palace consisting of four spired towers on each corner and smaller ones at the side of its entranceway. It was probably white, but the light diffusing through the blossoms turned the building a shimmering pink. While it wasn’t anywhere as vast as the academy building, it would probably house fifty families.

  “Who lives over there?” I asked.

  “No one until I rule my court,” he replied. “But we’re going to what’s at the bottom of the garden.

  My heart thrummed an excited beat, and I pressed a kiss on Prince Bradwell’s cheek. “Thanks for taking me out of the academy.”

  “No one will come after us here,” he replied. “Not even Her Majesty.”

  “Why?”

  “Her power isn’t aligned with seasonal magic.”

  “Ah.” From the looks of that shrew, I wondered if she was a distant relative of the dead faerie who cursed me, but then I remembered what McVittie had said. If Prince Lugh was Queen Maeve’s son, he was also Prince Bradwell’s uncle.

  He flew around the Spring Palace, over a manicured garden of small cherry trees, and landed in front of a thicket of saplings with branches overgrown with
leaves that rattled in the faint breeze. Birds chirped from its depths, their song mingling with the burbling of running water.

  “This is it.” After setting me onto the hard ground, Prince Bradwell entwined his fingers with mine. “There’s a spring I often visit to connect deeper to the magic of my court. I can’t wait for you to see it.”

  We walked down a curving path that meandered through the tall saplings and deposited us at a clearing carpeted with bluebells. Butterfly-like creatures swooped overhead, their glowing wings illuminating our way.

  “What are those?” I asked.

  “Lanternflies.” Prince Bradwell squeezed my hand as we walked through the clearing. “Benevolent creatures that sleep through the day, absorbing the magic of the sun in their wings, and play throughout the night. You’ll find them in all the courts except winter, where the nights are pretty bright because of the snow and ice catching the moon’s reflection.”

  “Sometimes, it’s hard to imagine Prince Caulden among all that ice.”

  “He has a warm heart.” Prince Bradwell paused in the middle of the bluebells and gave my nose a playful tap. “And he told you to call him Caulden. You should call me Bradwell.”

  “Not Brad?” I asked with a smile.

  “I’ll make that allowance just for you.” He squeezed my hand, and we continued toward the sound of the running water. “Come on. I want to see your reaction.”

  Warmth bloomed in my heart and radiated across my chest. It was stupid. A few words from the Prince of the Spring Court, and I was on the verge of giddiness, but it felt so real this time. He had heard all my secrets, that I was once human, and been used by an untold number of faeries for sex, yet Prince Bradwell treated me like I was special.

  We approached some trees laden with blossoms the same shade of cerise as Prince Bradwell’s hair, which he explained made the sweetest peaches on the rest of the island. After passing underneath their canopy, we arrived at a vast stream that reflected the silver moon.

  In the middle was a tiny islet with a table and two chairs and above them, a white canopy illuminated by lanternflies.

  Swallowing hard, I whispered, “What’s this?”

  “Dinner by the source of my magic,” he said. “I thought that if you enjoyed the atmosphere, you could tolerate me.”

  A laugh huffed out of my chest. What was there to tolerate? A gorgeous prince who cared for others and didn’t mind sharing me with his brothers? It was beyond a dream.

  Two wood sprites emerged from the trees clad in togas made of bark. I stiffened, remembering the time I got rooted to the ground and needed to be rescued by Coltrane the centaur.

  “Don’t worry about them.” Prince Bradwell stroked my hair. “They’ve just come to serve dinner.”

  The wood sprites both bowed low and walked back behind the trees.

  “Oh.” I placed a hand on my chest. “It wasn’t so long ago that I had a run-in with them on my way back from the pyre stone task.”

  “That would have been Salix’s doing. He scooped me up in his arms and flew me over the stream. As soon as we reached the islet and he set me on my feet, he pulled out the chair in the way fancy gentlemen did on DVDs.

  I lowered myself into its soft seat, feeling like a princess. As he sat, I asked, “Why didn’t Lady Salix try to mate with you and Lady Gala mate with Caulden?”

  “It’s rare for people to find those with similar magic attractive.” He tilted his head to the side and stared up into the silk canopy as though looking for a better way to explain things. “I suppose it’s like being the brother to a stunningly beautiful female: immune to her charms.”

  “Right,” I said.

  A sprite flew in from between the trees, holding a corked bottle. He opened it with a massive pop and poured a sweet-smelling amber liquid into narrow flutes.

  “This comes from the nectar of a persimmon blossom.” He raised his glass. “I hope you like it.”

  Realization slowly dawned, and my pulse fluttered within a rapidly drying throat. This was a date. It was just like the women in the outside world enjoyed, but with lanternflies instead of candles and nectar instead of champagne. We clinked glasses, and I sipped the sweet, refreshing liquid.

  Prince Bradwell frowned. “Is it not to your liking?”

  “It’s lovely,” I said. “Only…”

  He leaned across the table, worry in his amber eyes. With the overhead illumination, the cerise strands of hair curving around his high cheekbones looked more beautiful than the cherry blossoms. “Only what?”

  I dipped my head. “This is my first time doing anything like this.”

  “Being courted?” he asked.

  I nodded through shallow breaths.

  “Unity.” He walked around the table and knelt at my side. “You might not believe it, but you’re worth a hundred of the spoiled females who would rob a friend of her magic to cheat fate.”

  “Thanks,” I murmured.

  His lips pursed with frustration. “I mean it. Your story is incredible. There isn’t a single person I know who would go to such lengths to support her sister and a friend she’d only known for a few days. Even though your encounter with the dark ones resulted in tragedy, I’m glad that you arrived at our academy,= cursed with glowing wings.”

  “There’s a way to help Helen and my sister,” I said.

  Two forest-green wood sprites flew in from between the trays, holding dishes covered in domes. Prince Bradwell returned to his seat and beckoned them over.

  They crossed the water and served us roasted peafowl with wild rice and baked artichokes. When they left, he leaned forward. “Are you referring to the ritual the seeing hag gave us?”

  I hook my head. “The wishbone.”

  Prince Bradwell paused, his face going still. “Such a thing exists but is only given to the queen upon her coronation. Even if you accepted me and managed to win over August, it might take centuries for His Majesty to relinquish the throne.”

  “Oh.” My brows drew together.

  Throughout the meal, Prince Bradwell and I made conversation about what life was like as a human living in Doolish. In exchange, he described the workings of the Royal Court, which consisted of those aligned to weather, such as Queen Titania whose father ruled the Court of Lightning, and the seasonal courts, which had been unoccupied since the fall of Queen Maeve.

  I couldn’t help thinking about the wishbone. Pokeweed spoke as though it was something I would obtain soon after mating with all four brothers, as did McVittie. I wondered if they were mistaken, or they knew something that Prince Bradwell didn’t.

  After a desert of cloudberries and meringues with a rich coffee made from roasted hazelnuts, my pulse quickened at the memory of milking Prince Bradwell to a shuddering climax. He seemed like too much of a gentleman to allow me to touch him like that after the first date, but I held up my hopes for a steamy night.

  He stood, and the pulse between my legs exploded into action. “The sprites have prepared you a chamber in the palace.”

  “Where will you sleep?” I whispered.

  He swept his arm toward the source of the water. “Further up the stream is a waterfall, and behind it is a cave. I have a bedchamber set up there.”

  I pulled myself onto legs that wouldn’t stop trembling. This whole romance thing was new to me, and I was probably ruining things by not playing coy. Even with this supposedly untouched, fae body, I longed for that flesh-to-flesh connection.

  Tamping down the butterflies in my stomach, I asked, “Can’t I stay with you?”

  His face blanked. “Unity, are you sure about this?”

  I walked around the table and placed a hand on his chest. “Please.”

  The word seemed to light a fire in his eyes. That, or he’d been staring at the lanternflies for too long. Without a word, he picked me up and soared over the water. This time, the only lurching was my hungry core, yearning to be filled.

  The stream curved around the foot of a tall hill covered in low
bushes of white flowers that glowed in the light of the moon. As we rounded the corner, the sound of running water became louder, I turned around in Prince Bradwell’s embrace.

  Water roared out of an opening in the hill, hitting the stream in a cloud of foam. The light reflecting off the spray caused a rainbow effect that was more romantic than it was magical.

  Prince Bradwell raised a hand, and the waterfall parted to reveal a deep cave. He flew inside, and the water closed as we landed on the hard, stone floor.

  “My chamber is further in,” Prince Bradwell shouted over the noise of the waterfall. “It’s not as well-appointed as the suite in the palace—”

  “It will be fine.” I grabbed his hand. Our stone house in Doolish was one of the nice homes, but it looked like a hovel compared to the remedial dormitory. I doubted that anywhere Prince Bradwell stayed could be unimpressive.

  We walked through a narrow passageway that muffled the roar of the water.

  “That’s better.” Prince Bradwell paused and placed both hands on my shoulders. “Unity, I want you to know I’m not expecting anything tonight.”

  I placed a kiss on his jaw. “What if I had needs?”

  His breath quickened. “In that case, I will endeavor to satisfy them.”

  The words made my nipples tingle. No one had ever talked about satisfying me. It was either mutual or one-sided, but I was lucky. According to Mrs. Yates’ magazines, I was one of the few humans who didn’t need much to climax.

  Prince Bradwell cupped my cheek. “You’ll let me know how to please you?”

  “Have you done much with a girl?” I placed a palm over his frantic heart.

  “A few chaste kisses. The young ladies in the royal courts aren’t disposed to any kind of sexual activity outside their heats.”

  I wrapped my arms around his neck and joined our lips in a peck. “Leave it with me, and I’ll show you the way.”

  Prince Bradwell scooped me into his arms and carried me through the echoing hallway into a domed room with polished stone walls. A pathway of pink petals led to the middle, the location of a bed carved out of the same stone with four posts stretching toward a vast ceiling of transparent crystals that hung down like chandeliers. Instead of a mattress, there was a white platform that looked like compressed clouds.