She shook her head. “Not this time. We’ll have a better chance of surviving if we’re not cowering in that cramped space.” Mother strapped a belt around her waist and slipped three knives into it, as well as another small knife into each boot. Then she picked up a sword and moved to stand beside the front door.
“Why now? Why is this happening now? We’ve lived in this same cottage for sixteen years, and the fae king never hunted you before.” But as I spoke, I knew I was wrong. The king had hunted us. Father had died because of it. He’d lied that night. Told them Mother had died years ago. Had he sacrificed himself so the Wild Hunt wouldn’t keep looking for Mother or me?
“Did you go to Faery with him? With … your hunter?” She didn’t look at me as she spoke, she just flexed her fingers around the hilt of the sword. There was an accusation in her words. Like by going to Faery, I’d drawn the king’s attention.
“He’s not my …” I shook my head. She wasn’t listening, anyway. “He took me there, against my will. But we weren’t there for long. And I’ve been to Faery before—for the masquerade—and the hunters didn’t come for us that time.” If she thought I’d left a trail to our door by going to Faery, she was wrong. Fergus had been cautious. He wouldn’t have come back here with me if he really thought we’d meet the king or the Wild Hunt. He had too much to lose.
She nodded. “You could have gone to Faery a thousand times on your own and no one would have known or cared. But the moment you went through the Crossing with Fergus Blackwood, it set off a tracking spell on one of you.”
I swallowed, Mother’s earlier words no longer sounded like the confusion of a fevered mind. “You know who he is?” Fergus’ mask had stayed on his face the entire time. She shouldn’t know.
“Our paths have crossed before.”
“The night Father died.” I wanted it to be a question, but it didn’t come out that way.
She shook her head. “Before then.”
I stared at her, my mouth falling open. Why hadn’t Fergus told me? Why hadn’t she?
Mother sighed, selecting yet another knife from the table and adding it to the arsenal around her waist. “Sorry, my darling. What we’re about to face is my fault. I thought I’d done enough to keep us safe, but…”
“What did you do?” I whispered. I never imagined she could break any human laws, let alone do something bad enough that the Unseelie King would hunt her down.
“It’s a story longer than the time we have.” She smiled at me. I’d taken comfort from that smile every day of my life. “But after we fight them off, I’ll tell you whatever you want to know.”
The Hunt were almost here, and they never travelled with less than six hunters. Best case, they outnumbered us two to one—and that was only if Fergus fought against his own people, which didn’t seem likely. There was no way I would ever hear that story, unless she planned on telling me in the afterlife.
“Hide, Bria.” She nodded at the hatch that led beneath the cottage. “I’ll sort this out.”
I shook my head. I would not cower in the dark again while the Wild Hunt stole away another of my parents. I’d rather die.
Mother gave a nod as if she understood. Maybe she did. She’d been down there with me last time. She’d heard her husband die and could not help him.
My heart beat like thunder. The sound of the hounds barking was so loud, they must be mere moments away. I didn’t want to die. Especially when I had no idea what any of this was about.
My hands were slick with sweat. I wiped them on my pants, then folded my hand around the knife again. This was the wrong thing to do. We needed to get to the horses or those hunters in their terrifying masks would drag us from the only home I’d ever known.
My mask. That was the answer.
“I have an idea.” I pulled my mask from my pocket and held it to my face, hoping there was still magic in it. The mask attached to my skin like it belonged there, nowhere near as painful or as terrifying this time. I grabbed Mother’s hand to drag her out the back door just as the front door broke open and a hunter burst in.
“Stop!” The hunter’s voice was deep and echoing.
I pushed Mother outside but kept a grip of her wrist and turned to face him, enjoying the way his eyes widened when he saw my mask. “It’s okay. I have her and she’s not fighting. I’ll take her with me.” I wasn’t sure if it was my imagination, but it seemed as if my voice had taken on that deep echo that the rest of the hunter’s voices had.
A second hunter pushed through the doorway, closely followed by a third.
“How did you get here so fast?” one of them asked.
“Caught some good updrafts.” Stars, what a lie. But those were the words Fergus used on our way here, so it must mean something to the hunters.
The first hunter’s eyes narrowed. “Where’s your stead?”
I pointed with my head out the back door toward the woods, trying not to flinch as hunters four, five and six tried to push through the door. “We should go. Before anyone has the chance to notice we’re here and comes to her rescue.” I was already backing out the door.
Mother pulled against my grip like she was my captive, and the first hunter’s shoulders relaxed a fraction. Perhaps we’d convinced him.
“Help me!” Mother yelled.
I slapped a hand over her mouth and dragged her out the door. Calling for help might be taking things too far. Although ours was the last house before the woods, Selina’s family were still neighbors. The last thing we needed was Selina or her mother coming over to check out the noise.
Shutting the door behind me, I whispered. “Run for the woods.”
Mother was sprinting before I’d finished speaking. I followed behind, searching for Fergus and the horses among the trees. I couldn’t see them.
Mother slowed when she reached the shadows of the woods. The night time woods looked blacker than they ever had. “You go first. I can’t run if I’m looking over my shoulder to make sure you’re all right.”
I was selfishly okay with that. If one of us was going to be close to any chasing hunters, it might as well be her. I knew how horrible that made me sound, and I still couldn’t make myself refuse her offer.
I sprinted through the woods, searching for Fergus, with Mother’s footfalls close behind. Wherever he was, he wasn’t showing himself. I tripped on the rough path, jumping back to my feet. We just needed to make it to the second bend. After that, the trail split in four different directions. We could hide if they didn’t see which trail we took.
More footfalls sounded at my back. I pumped my legs faster, my chest tight and my breathing heavy. I couldn’t let them catch me. I would not be dragged to Faery again.
Behind me, Mother let out a grunt. I turned to find her scrambling to her feet, the first hunter behind her with his sword aloft. If only I’d grabbed my hunting bow.
Before I considered doing it, I threw the knife from my hand, aiming for his chest and wishing I knew how to use these weapons. It sank into the hunter’s neck and he growled in pain. I stared for a moment, unable to believe I’d hit him.
He dropped his sword, his hands grasping the knife.
I glanced at Mother. “Are you hurt?”
She shook her head, drawing her sword and bringing it down on the hunter’s neck. Blood sprayed everywhere. Over her, over me, over the forest floor. I gagged and backed away. Mother was a healer, not a killer. How was this even happening?
Mother’s face was grim. “Grab his sword. Unless that horse you promised is nearby, we have to fight them.” She pulled my knife from the hunter’s neck and tossed it to me, handle first. “You’ll need this, too.”
Blood dribbled down the blade and over the handle to my fingers, sending a shiver up my spine. Not because of the blood. I’d seen plenty of that in my life. Usually, I was the one stopping the flow, not causing it. With hurried steps, I crossed to the side of the trail and slid the knife across a wide leaf on th
e nearest bush. When it was clean—or cleanish—I slipped it into my waistband. Then I ran back to the hunter on the ground and picked up his sword. By the time I’d done those three things, Mother was bringing her sword down on another hunter, and behind him, two more ran at us, just a few paces away.
The closest of them advanced on me. I threw my knife again, hoping for the same luck that landed it in the other hunter’s neck. To my surprise, it hit just below the chest and he dropped to the ground like a stone. I threw my last knife at the second fae. He saw it coming and dodged it.
I wrapped my fingers around the sword hilt. I couldn’t do anything with this weapon until he drew closer. Even then, I wasn’t sure I trusted myself to use it. It didn’t matter though because he didn’t make it that far. Mother hurled a flat-bladed star at him before he could reach me. It hit the hunter’s neck and blood was already spurting from his arteries by the time he hit the ground.
I stared at Mother in disbelief. The other fae—the one she’d been fighting—was lying in a bloody heap at her feet. That was four of them, dead or injured. If she could fight like this, why had we hidden before? Why hadn’t she saved Father’s life?
The final two came at her. She threw another of the flat bladed stars, but the first fae brushed it away without touching it, his magic doing the work for him. He advanced on Mother. She raised her sword, but compared to this hunter, her movements looked slow and sluggish.
I glanced at his face to find he was the only one not wearing a mask. He wasn’t a hunter.
Mother was facing off with King Aengus.
He was clearly stronger than any of the hunter’s had been, plus he still had a hunter working with him. Even after all our work to get out of this mess, Mother and I were still badly outnumbered.
I tightened my grip on my sword. I had to sneak up behind the king and the hunter while they were preoccupied with Mother. If I could bring myself to swing my weapon into one of their backs, Mother would have a better chance of getting away from the other. Even if the other was King Aengus.
I crept forward, watching them as I moved and quietly pleading that their attention not shift my way.
There was a blur of movement and Mother screamed. By the time I turned my attention from her attackers to her, she was on the ground. “No!” The word spilled from my mouth before I could stop it.
I ran toward her, but I was too slow. These last two fae moved so much faster than the rest. Before I could cross the short distance between us, the hunter had thrown Mother over his shoulder and was heading back up the trail toward our cottage. He followed along behind the king, whose long strides would have them at the edge of the woods in moments. Mother kicked and screamed, but the hunter’s grip was strong.
“Stop!”
“Bria!” She paused her struggling, her eyes falling on me. “Run! You must go to Rhiannon.”
Rhiannon? The Seelie Queen? Mother must have hit her head as she went down because that was the only way she’d ever suggest I visit Seelie.
I stalked after the hunter until I was close enough to touch him. Adjusting my grip on the handle of the sword, I lifted it high and slammed it into his side. My sword slid down his ribcage before finding purchase and slicing into his abdomen. His scream split the woods. He dropped Mother and clutched his side. I lunged for her, wrapping my fingers around her wrist. Our eyes met. We were okay.
The king turned at the screams. Alarm lit his eyes and he pounced, taking hold of Mother’s other wrist. With a growl, he jerked her out of my grasp and dragged her from my reach.
The king was tall and slim. Looking at him, he shouldn’t be strong enough to drag Mother away from me. But his age and his body shape hid his strength well. He’d taken Mother from me when I hadn’t expected him to.
He held up one hand, his palm facing me, and an invisible force—his magic, I guessed—blasted me backward and into the trunk of a tree. The air whooshed from my lungs and I slid to the ground, gasping. I tried to sit up, to suck air into my lungs, but I couldn’t move. All I could do was watch as a seventh fae—where had he come from?—ran toward me. The king didn’t even spare me a second glance. He just threw Mother over his shoulder and stole her away.
Black edged my vision.
I was going to die.
That hunter in his grotesque mask running at me would make sure of it. I pulled my knees up, and pushed to my feet, trying to draw in that much needed breath of air.
Wind moved across my face followed by a blur of movement.
The hunter who had come after me a moment ago was suddenly lying at my feet with a sword through his heart.
Fergus stood beside me, his mask in hand. “Are you all right?”
I nodded, the smallest taste of beautiful air sneaking back into my lungs.
He touched my back with his fingertips and warmth flooded my body. My lungs expanded as if there had never been any reason for them not to.
“Mother.” I struggled to get up, but he placed a hand on my shoulder.
He shook his head. “It’s too late. She’s gone.”
“She can’t be.” I pushed him off and clambered up, panic making my voice shrill.
“She is. But we’ll get her back. I promise.” His eyes searched my face, and then my body, checking for injuries. Once he was certain I was okay, his focus shifted to the surrounding woods, and to the carnage we’d left behind. His eyes moved, from one body to the next. He let out a long sigh. “You killed some of my best men.”
I followed his gaze, nausea rising from my gut. Bodies littered the ground. Some had died because of me. I put a hand over my mouth to keep from throwing up. I was a healer, not a killer. My eyes landed on the hunter with my knife in his chest. No, not anymore. I was a killer now too. “They attacked us.” My voice wobbled. “I couldn’t find you. Or the horses. We had to fight.” My head was spinning. I’d killed one of them, but the rest of the deaths had been down to Mother. How was that even possible? I’d never once seen her raise a hand in anger. Trying to shift the blame, I said, “You killed one of them.” If he cared about his men so much, why would he do that? He could have stayed hidden and let me die. “Why?”
He shook his head. “He wasn’t mine. That one was a servant of my father’s. The rest of them though…” He shook his head again.
“Where were you?” That was what I really needed to know. Had he run off when he realized the king was here, only to return once he thought it was safe? I needed to understand so I could work out what to do next.
“Trying to distract the king.” He moved slightly, and I saw the sleeve of his shirt was cut open and blood dribbled from a long wound.
I looked from his arm to the mask in his hand. Not his usual skeleton, but a bear. He hadn’t wanted the king to recognize him. “You’re hurt.”
He lifted one shoulder. “He saw me coming.”
I took his arm and pulled the damaged shirt apart. The wound was long and deep. His black top hid how much blood he’d lost—his shirt sleeve was dripping, and there were red smears on the bushes behind him. I drew in a breath. “How are you standing up?” I glanced along the trail toward our cottage. “I can clean and stitch this. I just need to get my things from home.”
Fergus shook his head. “It’s only a sword wound.”
“Only a sword wound? Have you even looked at it?” I suspected there was muscle damage as well.
“Careful, Bria. Someone might think you were worried for me.” Before I could come up with a smart retort, he added, “I agree, it looks bad. But it wasn’t made by magic so I can get someone to heal it. Once I get back to Faery.”
“Why wait?” The wound was bad. There was a steady drip on the forest floor as blood ran from his body. “You should heal it now.”
He shook his head. “I can’t. I’m low on magic. I have to return to Faery.”
Suddenly, everything came into sharp focus. “We have to return to Faery, you mean.” I’d traded my life to se
e Mother a final time. I was pleased I’d done it, since Fergus had saved her life, but now Mother was captured. I needed to free her, and I wasn’t sure that would be possible under the deal I’d made.
Fergus blew out a breath, a shaft of moonlight falling across his lips. “I will not force you to come to Faery, Bria. But you should come, anyway. You need somewhere safe to stay, and I can offer you that. The king doesn’t like loose ends, and that’s what you are at the moment.”
I dragged my hands down my face finding the hard surface of the mask beneath them. He wouldn’t force me to go. That should be good news, but it felt like the opposite. “I was wearing a mask. The king couldn’t have recognized me.” At least, if he was human, he couldn’t. But he was the King of Unseelie. He was fighting with the Wild Hunt. Who knew what he did or did not know about me? I shook my head, my voice small. “No one in Iadrun knows the king is part of the Wild Hunt.” Somehow, that made the Hunt even scarier.
Fergus’ voice was soft. “He’s not part of us. Not officially anyway.”
I met his eyes. I wasn’t falling for that. “And yet he was here, fighting with them, just a moment ago.”
Fergus licked his lips. “The Wild Hunt is old. Older than the oldest fae. There are things about it none of us understand. And other things my father knows better than anyone.” He looked down at his hands before continuing, his voice growing softer. “Father found a spell to link himself to the Hunt. Before him, the Wild Hunt never reported to anyone. Before him, the Hunt were heroes in Faery, our magic could bring bumper crops or make it rain or protect our borders. Before him, all fae had to be chosen to become one of us and many wanted that honor.”
Kingdom of Yesterday's Lies (Royals of Faery Book 1) Page 11
