by K. M. Shea
I couldn’t see the other monarchs anymore, but I could faintly hear them.
And now we wait.
I held my breath as Comet stood in the shadow of a massive tree. The shades paced for a little bit, settling farther down the trail.
The sounds of the hunt grew closer as hounds bayed and sun stallions neighed.
“What happened?” Birch shouted above the chaos.
“Something spooked the stag, it’s running west now.”
Well done—we’re doing great.
Something crashed down the path, snorting in its effort to breathe. A flash of white, and the stag passed us.
“Comet!” I shouted.
My night mare took off after it, the shades falling in behind us as we neatly cut around to the front of the hunt, blocking Fell and the others.
“Leila? What the—” Fell broke off into a string of expletives that were actually the sort of thing I’d like to scream at him as I shook him until his teeth jostled loose.
But violence is never the answer! Until it is, anyway.
Unlike Fell, Comet and I kept pace with the stag, practically riding on his tail.
The shades with us surged forward, creating a half circle behind the stag as they kept pace.
I saw the stag move to follow a much more narrow trail that broke off to the left, and I shouted “Block him!”
Whiskers leaped from a tree, his body stretched long as he released his angry goblin scream. He landed in the center of the path that split off, and the stag veered straight again.
“Hey, hey, hey!” I called into the forest.
Please be there. Please be there!
Three night mares emerged from the dark patches of the forest, streaking ahead to box the stag in.
They didn’t stop him—we couldn’t risk him slipping out of our trap because this was likely going to be the only chance we had.
But with the stag completely surrounded, we could more easily control what direction we wanted him to go.
The trick was finding a spot where we could corner him.
Come on, Eclipse. My heart pulsed in my throat as I looked over the formation.
Faintly, I heard the high pitched, glass-shattering scream of a night mare.
“There!” I shouted. “Next left!”
The night mares obligingly parted, creating a slight gap in our formation.
When the stag charged left, they let him zoom up the path, running shoulder to shoulder with him.
Please, please, please, please. My breath hitched as the stag almost left our careful circle.
Like shadows, Muffin, Patches, and Fluffy surged out of the underbrush, screaming at the stag as their fangs gleamed in the faint light of the forest.
The stag jerked back, falling back into our formation as we moved in the direction Eclipse had called from.
We did it. The trickiest part of our trap was over. Now for the most dangerous part.
I loosened my death grip on my reins and ignored Fell—who was still complaining loudly somewhere behind us.
I could see the bright line ahead where the forest opened up into another field. A smear of black marked out Eclipse.
We bore down fast on the field—the stag’s breath sounding more and more labored.
Once we burst out of the forest I had to blink in the early afternoon sunlight to adjust my eyes, then I saw the giant rock formation.
A pile of massive boulders the size of cars had been clustered in a curving line, creating a sort of rock wall.
That was our target.
“Drive him!” I shouted.
The night mares opened up at the front, creating a clear path to the rocks, while the glooms pressed hard from the side.
My shades started snarling and howling behind the stag, driving it into a frenzy. Frantic, the stag turned toward the rock formation.
The night mares held back just long enough for the stag to get closer to the rocks before they surged ahead, cutting the stag’s path off to the left.
Eclipse barreled across the field, joining the glooms and neatly pinching off a gap between the boulders and the cats—who couldn’t move as fast as the night mares—blocking the right side.
Flanked, and with no way to run, the stag backed into the rocks, its hide twitching and quivering as it struggled to catch its breath.
Behind us, the baying of the other monarch’s hounds grew closer.
And this is where the danger begins.
I slipped from Comet’s back and shoved my prism into my right glove.
It was bulky and made the glove uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to have to worry about holding it with what could possibly come next.
“Easy, boy, easy,” I called to the stag, hoping against everything that my natural magic for animals would be able to calm him despite the scare we’d put him through.
The stag stamped a foot and shook his head, his dark eyes glassy with fear.
“How could they do this to you?” I murmured as I took a few steps closer to it, my hands held up to show I was unarmed—which would help if the stag was as smart as I suspected it was.
I thought my Court was bad. These bloodthirsty monarchs are a new level of horrid.
With a perfect sense of timing, Fell and Birch popped out of the trees.
I heard the creak of wood, and I activated my prism and threw up a barrier.
An arrow pinged harmlessly off the surface.
“Leila, that’s cheating,” Fell said tauntingly. “You’re breaking the rules.”
“I was unaware you actually cared about that sort of thing, since you broke the rules by shooting at the prey I have cornered,” I said.
Fell and his hounds cantered closer to us, and I eyed Muffin and Whiskers, who were slowly closing in on the stag.
“Easy,” I warned them.
“Perhaps,” Fell called out to me. “But you can’t stop another monarch’s hounds or animals from approaching with magic,” Fell said. “You are about to lose control of the prey anyway.”
“Oh, that won’t be a problem,” I said sweetly.
I waited until the hounds—who were now baying so loudly I couldn’t have heard anything the King of Autumn said—were about a horse-length away before I shouted. “HOLD!” I yelled, putting every ounce of strength I had in the command.
The night mares, glooms, and shades screamed, hissed, and snarled as they swung around. Facing out of the formation, they snapped and growled at the hounds.
The hounds pushed forward—driven by the bloodlust Fell had stupidly predicted in my animals.
Patches smacked a hound in the face with enough force to send it sprawling.
Larry—more than double the size of the hounds—grabbed another by the scruff of its neck and tossed it.
Two hounds tried to rush Nebula, and they narrowly avoided being crushed when the mare stomped at them.
The glooms screamed—their throaty howls made the hounds whine and turn away.
Even the sun stallions freaked. Birch almost fell off his as it burst sideways, fighting to get away from my pets.
“How?” Fell demanded as he fought to control his sun stallion. The way he glanced behind him as Solis and Verdant popped out of the woods underlined just how aware he was that the stallion’s true master was watching.
“Ahhh, King Fell. Sweet, simple King Fell.” Although I spoke to him, I was watching the stag.
It swung its head from the left to the right as it watched the night mares, glooms, and shades fighting to protect it.
Fell snarled and unsheathed a sword.
It didn’t have magic, but with the enraged glower he was giving me, I didn’t think the Autumn King intended to use any magic on me. He just wanted to kill me.
“Look out!” Solis shouted.
The sun stallions freaked.
Birch’s threw him with ease, popping him over his front shoulder before prancing away. Fell had to drop his sword and cling to his mount like a monkey as the stallion’s fl
aming tail and mane flared and grew so bright I could barely stand to peer at him.
Verdant’s horse surged up from behind him then screeched to a halt. Verdant slammed into its neck over the abrupt stop as the horse trumpeted.
Heck, Solis sounded so panicked and terrified, even I swung around to look at him.
The Day King was perfectly fine. He was sitting as calm as could be on the back of his mount, observing the chaos his cry had thrown the majority of the hunting mounts into.
“Oh my. I’m deeply embarrassed,” Solis said, his melodic voice unreadable. “I’m afraid the stallions still react to me when I have heightened emotions. How untimely.”
Birch wheezed on the ground, and Fell struggled to hold on as his horse continued to lose it.
I waved my thanks to the Sun King, then turned back to the stag.
He’s bought me time—I have to use it.
The stag was looking past Fell, but it finally swung its gaze toward me.
“I’m sorry,” I crooned to it as I carefully approached it. “I didn’t want to scare you, but I didn’t know how else to stop you. It’s going to be okay.”
I slowly approached him, aware my window of time to act was quickly closing.
“Solis!” Fell snarled. “What was that?!”
“What was what?” Solis asked, sounding bewildered.
I tuned out Fell’s sharp reply and stepped closer to the stag, stretching my hand out in front of me. “I’m here to help,” I said. “We’re going to get you out of here.”
My stomach twisted nervously in my gut as I drew close enough to the stag that I could touch him.
The stag still eyed me with fear, but its breathing had slowed a little.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said. “In fact, I promise no one will hurt you. Can you trust me enough to get you out of here?”
The stag snorted, but I could feel it when my natural magic started to reach him. He relaxed; the muscles in his neck and shoulders were no longer rock hard.
When I touched him, his hide twitched, but he didn’t retreat or try to knock me over—which he easily could have done.
He was gigantic. I wasn’t aware just how big he was until I was standing in front of him, his impressive antlers stretching high above my head.
“You’re beautiful, aren’t you?” I cooed. “So noble and well cared for—someone loves you very much, don’t they?”
I sank my fingers into his soft coat and released a sigh. “One of my night mares is going to take you home. Blue Moon?”
The gelding stopped snarling at the hounds and trotted into the protected semi-circle. He swished his tail, then struck the ground with his hoof.
A door—one made of a stone archway with a fancy wrought-iron gate—formed. The gate swung open, revealing its misty innards.
I smiled at the stag when he peered at me, his eyes finally soft.
“Go on,” I said.
The stag stared at me for a moment that seemed to stretch on. I could hear my heart beat, the muted buzz of Fell’s angry protests, and the howls of the hounds.
The stag reached out and pressed his lips to my forehead, and there was a moment of silence, before magic ripped free around me.
I felt the warmth of sunshine after what felt like the eternity of cold, my head filled with the song of birds welcoming the first flowers, and I could feel the soft caress of new grass.
Magic poured through me, so concentrated I could taste it—sweet and fresh. And for a few moments I lived and breathed spring—the birth of a fawn, the melting of snow, the world waking up from its slumber.
The magic didn’t leave me, rather it seemed to settle deep into my bones. Once it had made a place for itself it released me, and I jerked with surprise.
I stared wide eyed at the stag. It breathed in my face, then walked shoulder to shoulder with Blue Moon through the gate.
I relaxed, until just before the gate shut, and I thought I saw a flicker of massive trees and a carpet of flowers through the mist.
What? I told Blue Moon to take him home—I meant the Night Court! That was not the Night Realm, or any of our properties!
“No! You—” Fell wordlessly howled his frustration. “You!” He snarled at me. “You cheated—there’s no way you won the hunt in your first year.”
“You’re being a sore loser, Fell,” Solis said.
“I am not! She’s nothing! It’s impossible that she won—she used night mares!”
I exhaled; all the tension that had been holding me upright was leaving me in a strength-sapping wave. “I checked—there was nothing in the rules that said my ‘hounds’ had to be dogs. Using the night mares and glooms was totally legal.” I leaned against Comet before I slid my foot into the stirrup. I smacked into her back, unable to fully heft myself over her, and had to scramble to right myself. “Sorry, Comet.”
Comet tucked her chin and turned her head, gently lipping my boot.
“You turned this into a mockery of what the hunt is supposed to be—it was a laughingstock,” Fell sneered.
I made myself sit up tall in the saddle. “Really? Who is laughing?”
“I’m not,” Rigel said from right behind Fell.
Fell actually twisted in the saddle and audibly gulped when he found my consort at his back, casually cradling a loaded crossbow.
“I’m not laughing either,” Solis said. “You’ve lost, Fell. Accept it.” The Day King was in his element in the bright afternoon sun—particularly with Birch’s horse nuzzling his thigh and Verdant’s sun stallion crowding his other side.
The Spring Queen was clinging to her horse, her face buried in his neck. I was a little curious why she hadn’t sat up or anything—her horse was obediently standing there as it was gazing at Solis with adoration.
Is she scared of her own horse? I mentally shrugged—it wasn’t my problem.
I whistled to my animals and started back in what I thought was the direction of our base camp. “Someone should check on Birch,” I suggested. “He probably has a concussion.”
“I do not have a concussion,” Birch complained.
“You have no way of knowing that. You just thumped your head into the dirt and couldn’t talk for like five minutes. You should have worn a helmet.” I tapped mine for emphasis. “Just saying.”
Birch staggered to his feet and veered in his horse’s direction.
“Though the hunt is over, I refuse to recognize the Night Court as the winner,” Fell announced.
“Nobody cares, King of Fall,” I said.
“I’m the King of Autumn!”
“Nobody cares about that either.” I leaned back in my saddle and glanced around.
The shades were happily trotting among the night mares, their tails wagging wildly as their tongues hung from their mouths—it made them look a little scarier than normal as it meant the shadows of their fur seemed extra ethereal, but they were happy!
The glooms were just as content. Whiskers was practically strutting through our little pack, and Muffin’s purrs sounded like a chainsaw.
“Thank you,” I whispered. “I couldn’t have done that without you.”
The night mares twitched their tails, the glooms chuffed, and the shades panted happily. But in the back of my mind, I wondered…where had Blue Moon taken the stag?
My question was answered when we got back to the base camp.
I hopped off Comet and had just enough time to pat her neck and step back before Queen Verdant threw herself at me.
For a wild moment, I thought she was trying to kill me. Her arms were around my neck and she was squeezing me hard.
And then I heard her sobs and felt her tears as she cried into my neck. “Thank you. Thank you!” She repeated again and again, her voice trembling as she held tight.
“Um?” I looked to Rigel for help, but my consort was purposely caught up in rubbing Steve’s head and wouldn’t look at me.
Thankfully, Skye and Indigo were not so shy.
They
approached me, looking from the crying monarch to me. Indigo’s eyebrows were impressively high up her forehead, and Skye was patting her pants pockets—looking for her tin of antacids.
“I have no idea what’s going on,” I whispered. “I caught the stag and had Blue Moon take him to safety and now this?” I patted Queen Verdant’s back.
Skye briefly tilted her head back, then nodded. “I see.”
“Do you? Because I don’t.” I spoke a little louder this time, because Queen Verdant didn’t seem to mind. She was still crying, though her hushed thank yous had become more sobs—of relief, I think?
Indigo took Comet’s reins and led her off, but Skye remained behind.
“You saved him. You saved him,” Verdant said once she could breathe again—though she still hadn’t let me go. “Thank you!”
I opened my mouth to ask who I had saved when Skye—the best steward ever—explained.
“I believe she is referring to the stag,” Skye said.
“Oh?”
“Yes,” Skye said. “Because it is from her Court.”
I had to digest that for a moment. “What do you mean?”
“Just as the night mares are important to the Night Court, and the sun stallions matter to the Day Court, so do the spring stags belong to the Spring Court,” Skye said.
“But the sun stallions and the night mares are Court treasures,” I said.
“Yes.” Skye waited until I met her gaze. “As are the spring stags. Queen Verdant has a stable of them. According to gossip, they are her mount of choice for Court outings.”
All the thoughts careening around my brain quieted as I struggled to piece together what was happening.
If the white stag was supposed to be treasured—like my night mares—then the act of hunting one, of chasing it down and killing it was a thousand times more brutal than I’d thought.
There was no way it could be viewed in a good light. And suddenly Verdant’s desperation to win the hunt, Fell’s and Birch’s snippy comments at her, they all started to make sense.
And that forest—Blue Moon didn’t take him to our home. He took the stag to the stag’s home!
I twitched, barely holding myself in check as my anger stirred. Steady. Find out who is doing this first.
