“Does that happen often?” I wasn’t sure how seriously I should take him. About any of this.
“Me thinking about your cottage?” There was almost a smile on his lips. “Never. And neither have I had this bad feeling about a place before.”
For a moment, Fergus Blackwood seemed almost human. Until I caught sight of those pointed ears poking between the strands of his black hair. He was fae, and I didn’t trust him. There was no danger at my home. Despite what he said, the king surely had much more on his mind than to waste his time thinking about me. “I need to go. I’ll do whatever you want of me after. Just, please, let me go back.”
Prince Fergus watched me, the growing moonlight casting half his body in shadow. Finally, he nodded. “You have to be careful, but very well. You can go.”
EIGHT
Before I could think twice, I threw my arms around him. “Thank you. I promise I’ll come back. You don’t have to worry.”
For a moment, his hands rested on the small of my back, then he extricated himself from my grasp, turned and walked along the trail toward his horse.
I stared after him as he disappeared into the darkness. Was that it? I could leave? He hadn’t given me directions, but I could manage without.
I hoped.
I started along the trail in the opposite direction than he’d gone, my step light, even though the full darkness of night now covered Faery. “Bria Tremaine.” Prince Fergus’s voice floated toward me.
I turned to find him sitting atop Obsidian. Only it wasn’t Fergus seated on the horse. He was Xion again, complete with skeleton mask.
“I am the leader of the Wild Hunt. If we’re to travel in the dark of night, we’ll travel as hunters.” He beckoned with his head, holding something white in one hand as he jumped from the horse.
“What about people seeing us?” I walked toward him, trying to work out if this was a trick. Using the horse would be so much quicker, yet he’d been uninclined to get off the ground earlier.
“It’s night. No one will question seeing the Wild Hunt out at this time of day. Our whereabouts are much less likely to get back to my father. Put this on.” The white thing in his hand was a mask shaped like a cat, its mouth open and teeth bared. He held it out.
“You’re giving me a mask?”
“I’m loaning you a mask. There’s a difference.” He waited until I took it. “It’s already spelled for you. Just hold it to your face and the magic will do the rest.”
I stared at it, unsure if I wanted to put it on. It felt like in doing so I would approve of everything the Wild Hunt did, and I could never do that.
Seeing my hesitation, Fergus’s voice hardened. “Put it on. Or we stay here.”
Suppressing a sigh, I held the mask to my face. This was for Mother.
The moment it touched my face, the mask attached to me, sucking my skin so hard it felt like my face might rip away from my body at any second, the sucking sensation worse by far than the stabbing pain of the ears attaching. It hurt so much I couldn’t breathe. Or scream. Then it stopped. Just like that. The pain was gone as if it had never been. I touched my face to find the mask in place, fitting perfectly to the contours of my cheeks and chin.
Fergus’ smile was sardonic. “You look … truly evil. Perfect for the Wild Hunt.”
Obsidian was a different horse with darkness surrounding him. He seemed unable to keep his feet still. Perhaps it was the night calling to him, or just the fact that he knew Prince Fergus would take him out to ride when the night grew deep.
Not only did Fergus provide a mask for me, but he magicked up a horse, too. From thin air. One moment it was just Obsidian stomping his feet in front of us, the next there was a slightly smaller version of Fergus’ enormous horse standing there. Apart from white rings around the bottom of her two front legs and her smaller size, the two could have been twins.
“Her name is Raven.” He indicated I should climb on.
I was an okay rider, but horses had never been a big part of my life. Had Mother insisted our patients pay us for our healing skills using coin, we could have afforded one each and a spare. But because people paid with whatever they had, we often had an abundance of the thing we needed least. And a lack of ability to purchase anything useful, including horses.
It wasn’t riding her that had me pausing just out of reach of Raven, it was that her back was without a saddle. I’d never ridden bare-back. That was an entire set of skills I had yet to attempt, let alone master. It had been fine with Fergus behind me on Obsidian. I’d actually felt quite secure. I shook my head. “I … ah … can’t we both ride Obsidian?”
A smirk settled on his masked face. “Because you prefer to be pressed up against me?”
I glared at him and eyed Raven again, my cheeks heating. “Surprisingly, no. I thought you might be concerned about me escaping on my own mount.”
Fergus chuckled. “Sure you did.”
With little choice—because there was no possible way I was ever riding with him again after a comment like that—I called Raven over to a fallen tree just off the trail. Trying to look like I wasn’t completely out of my depth, I hoisted myself onto her back and took hold of the reins.
I was barely seated before Raven took three steps along the trail and then pushed up into the air. I wrapped my arms around her neck and squeezed my eyes shut as the canopy of treetops loomed, but somehow Raven found a space between branches and only a few leaves brushed my arms and legs as we passed through. When I cracked my eyes open, we were high in the sky, the woods a block of darkness below. She ran as if she were on the ground, as if there was earth beneath her hooves. Magic held me on her back. Not the magic that had gripped me tight when Fergus brought me into Faery, but magic that held me as secure as if I were seated on a saddle. I sat up, using the reins rather than Raven’s neck.
“Hold on tight,” called Fergus from over my shoulder. “There are some good updrafts above this part of the woods.”
Wind pulled at my hair and clothes, and the ground raced by so fast it stole my breath. Still, I couldn’t close my eyes. I didn’t want to miss anything—Faery from up here was stunning. Where the woods ended, lights of every color twinkled. No one in Faery had to live their nights in darkness, terrified the Wild Hunt would come for them. I wanted to hold it against them—him—and I probably would once my feet were on solid ground again, but right now all those colors against the darkness of the night were mesmerisingly beautiful, and the wind on my face was such a rush, I couldn’t hold anything against anyone.
Raven swooped down without warning and my stomach dropped. I gasped and though I wanted to scream, a laugh burst out of me instead. I wasn’t sure I’d admit it to anyone, but riding Raven was exhilarating and invigorating in a way I’d never experienced before.
Fergus and Obsidian appeared beside me. He leaned forward, speaking above the rushing of the wind. “Did you just … laugh?”
“Yes!” I laughed again. I wasn’t even embarrassed at the giggle that escaped my mouth. “Did you expect me to wrap my arms around Raven’s neck, close my eyes and scream in fear?”
He watched my face—my mask—a moment before he answered. “Well … yes.” Mild amusement flashed across his mask.
I shook my head. “I’ve never felt anything like this. The wind rushing past, the power of the horse beneath me, the view—”
“The wonderful company.” He grinned. Somehow, his mask didn’t look quite so scary right at this moment.
I held back my grin, debating whether to tell him that the company was the least amazing thing about this. “It’s so freeing!”
All traces of laughter left his face and his mouth dropped open. He recovered himself after a moment, giving a single nod. “It is the most freeing thing I’ve ever done.”
Travel via the horses of the Wild Hunt was fast, the ground rushing past at a speed I’d never before encountered, and we were at the Crossing in no time. No one needed to
tell me we’d reached the border—it was plainly obvious. From Faery, the border was a sparkling glass wall as high as the eye could see. Even at night, lit only by the moon, the wall twinkled. “It’s beautiful,” I whispered.
“Doesn’t quite look the same from Iadrun, does it?” Fergus asked.
I shook my head, as Raven drifted down toward a three-meter gap in the wall at ground level. She landed softly on the ground, galloping a few steps before slowing beside a stone gatehouse where the guard who’d let me through the night of the masquerade sat reading by torchlight. He glanced up and waved us through, putting his head down to read again, the look on his face saying he did not want another interruption tonight.
Fergus sat tall and straight as he directed Obsidian along the trail, leaving me to follow behind. I watched his stiff shoulders before calling, “Do you really think the king will be waiting at our tiny cottage?” It seemed like an over-reaction to me. Nothing looked out of place. Certainly there was no reason for his tensed body and grim face. I still had trouble believing the Unseelie King would take an interest in my home. But then, until a few moments ago, I’d never imagined I’d ride a horse through the night skies of Faery with the leader of the Wild Hunt who was also a fae prince, so what did I know?
“I hope not,” he answered, his voice soft.
The moment the cottage came into view, I wriggled off Raven, ripped off my mask and ran toward it.
“Bria!” The prince’s voice was low but contained enough urgency to stop me mid-step.
I turned, unable to keep the frustration from my voice. “There’s no one here. Everything looks exactly as it always does.” I turned back, desperate to check on Mother, then thought of something. “Unless you can magically tell there’s someone here?” I had no idea what he could do with magic, but given the way he made the horses fly, it seemed as good a reason as any for his reluctance to move forward.
He shook his head. “Magic can’t tell me that. And I agree, there seems to be no one else here. But something’s … off. Can’t you feel it?”
I couldn’t. The cottage doors and windows were all closed, the way they should be at this time of night. No light escaped from the rooms within either our cottage or Selina’s. Everything was exactly as it should be. And he was stopping me from seeing Mother with his worrying. “Perhaps you’re just not used to entering a house where someone is about to die without your assistance.”
He grimaced, shifting on the back of his horse and looking at his hands. “Perhaps that’s it.”
I spun around and started for the cottage at a trot.
“Bria!” Selina sprinted out her back door and across the yard and wrapped me in a hug. “You’re okay! I’ve been so worried about you. I didn’t know what to do.” She pulled back, reaching down to grip on of my hands. The moonlight shone in her eyes. “I have so much to tell you.”
I glanced between her, my cottage and Fergus, sitting on the back of Obsidian at the edge of the woods. I couldn’t talk to Selina at the moment. Not with the leader of the Wild Hunt so close. I needed to keep her safe almost as much as I needed to be with Mother.
I extracted my hand, trying to ignore the crestfallen look on Selina’s face. “Can we talk later?”
“S-sure. I just never got the chance to tell you earlier, but I saw Tobias’ grave.”
My heart disintegrated. It couldn’t be true. Even if Tobias really was dead, his final resting place would be in Faery. There was no chance she’d ever see it. “Are you okay?” I’d have given anything to make her a cup of tea and sit down to talk about it with her.
She nodded, more light in her eyes than I’d seen in weeks. “It was in the woods next to a sparkling tree with fiery leaves. I’ve tried to find it again since, but I keep taking the wrong turn. I won’t give up though.” She held up the picture book she loved so much as she moved back toward her cottage. “I want to read to him, one last time.” She glanced at the back door to my cottage. “I checked on your Mother. She’s the same as she was.”
“Thank you,” I whispered, relief washing over me.
“You’ll come and see me in the morning? Once you’ve finished with your patients?”
I nodded, guilt filling every pore of my body. There would be no patients. Just me sitting with Mother as she died, and then a promise that would pull me back to Faery. I called to her back. This could be the last time I saw her. “I love you, Selina.”
She turned with a smile, walking backward as she spoke, “Love you, too!”
I stumbled into the cottage, my mind only half on the danger Fergus had mentioned. The rest of my thoughts were taken by Mother. And by Selina thinking she’d found Tobias’ grave. Her description of the grave sounded like it could be in Faery, but that made no sense. Fae didn’t bury their dead, they burned them. If Tobias were already dead, no one in Faery would have taken the time to bury him. But I couldn’t remind her of that, because thinking about what else they might have done to him was worse than pretending he was already in the ground.
As I ran in the back door, the front door of our cottage flew open. I tensed, searching the room for a weapon. Fergus had been right. It wasn’t safe here.
It took me a moment to realize it wasn’t the king, or anyone from the Wild Hunt bursting into my home. It was Mrs. Plimmer. She marched inside without waiting for an invitation, pointing at me as she advanced. “Thief. No good half-breed thief!”
“Mrs. Plimmer.” I sighed. Now was not a good time. I wasn’t even sure I could remain civil. “You need to leave. Come back in the morning.”
She pulled herself up straight. “Leave? Not without my property, you ugly-eared pretender.”
Anger rose inside me, but I pushed it down. She’s baiting you. I could hear Mother’s advice as clearly as if she were standing beside me. People like her just want a reaction, then they want to use that reaction to drive us away. Don’t react, Bria. You’re better than that. I smiled at Mrs. Plimmer. “Your property?”
“Yes, you smug little harlot. You stole our chicken.” Mrs. Plimmer puffed out her chest as if she’d dealt a winning blow.
My eyebrows shot up. I’d expected Mrs. Plimmer’s anger because I’d fixed Jonty’s arm. I hadn’t expected her to be upset about a chicken. Nor could I find it inside me to care. “I did no such thing.” With each passing second, it was growing more difficult to remain pleasant.
“Trinity Archer saw you place our chicken in your coop. Right, Trinity?” She turned to look through the open front door and I realized she’d brought people with her. Five stood outside, arms crossed and waiting. For what, I was unsure. Probably for a chance to hurt me. Or at least have me confess to thievery so they could drag me to the village gaol.
Trinity stepped up to the threshold, but not over. “Yes, ma’am. I was in them woods over there. Saw it with my own eyes.”
“And did you also see Jonty pick the chicken up as he left and take her home with him?” I turned to Mrs. Plimmer. “Did you check your own chicken coop before marching over here?” There was a bite to my voice that I didn’t even try to contain.
“Listen here, you foul-looking tart. My chicken was seen—”
The back door of the cottage flew open, banging against the wall behind it, and a man strolled in, his casual movements at odds with the slamming door. He was tall and broad with a balding head, and wore black pants, a black cloak and knee-high boots. His concerned eyes met mine, and it took a moment to realize this was Fergus Blackwood in disguise. His face looked different, but his build and clothes were the same. And the eyes, they were definitely his. It had to be him.
The anger on his face made everyone take a collective step back. He stalked over to Mrs. Plimmer, graceful and predatory, stopping so close she had to tilt her head back to see him. “What … did you just call Bria?”
Mrs. Plimmer’s chin lifted. “I called her what she is, a foul-looking tar—”
“Take it back,” Fergus bellowed, his vo
ice suddenly so loud, I jumped.
Mrs. Plimmer jumped too, but her eyes remained defiant. She lifted her chin higher. “Or what?”
“Or I make you.” The level of his voice dropped to become soft, daring her to deny him. There really wasn’t any space between the two of them, but somehow Fergus moved closer.
Whatever she saw on his face was enough for Mrs. Plimmer. She yielded a step, quickly followed by a second. Another couple of steps and she’d be out the door and gone.
Fergus must have thought so too, because he stalked after her, his voice menacing. “Take. It. Back.” He was different tonight from how I’d seen him in the past. As Xion, he was cold and calculating, yet always calm. Tonight, Fergus was angry, and it was white hot and volatile.
Her tongue shot out over her lips and she glanced my way. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled.
“Pardon me?” Fergus put a hand to his rounded and human-looking ear.
Mrs. Plimmer’s nostrils flared, and a red dot appeared on each cheek. Her eyes shifted between the two of us. “I’m sorry for calling you such awful names.”
He looked at me and I nodded. “Bria accepts your apology,” he said. “Now leave. And don’t come back for her help unless you’re dying, and you have coin to pay.”
Mrs. Plimmer shot out the door, her friends already gone.
I shut the door at her back and turned to find Prince Fergus looking as he usually did, black hair falling over his shoulders, brown eyes glowing with anger. He glared at the door as if he could see through it and was still staring at Mrs. Plimmer. “You shouldn’t let her talk to you like that.” His voice was strained.
“Yes, well, it isn’t as if I have much choice in the matter.” I enjoyed working as a healer. I was good at it. If I didn’t take the insults, I didn’t get the work.
He stepped toward me, leaning down until his face was hovering above mine. His voice was soft. “You didn’t even try.”
I looked away because he was right, I hadn’t tried to stop her. But the moment Fergus arrived, I’d stepped back and let him handle it. And I’d done it because I enjoyed seeing terror on my tormentor’s face that I’d never been able to inflict—even during those fist fights at school, I might win, but no one was truly scared of me. It had been nice to have someone on my side for once.
Kingdom of Yesterday's Lies (Royals of Faery Book 1) Page 9
