by Logan Jacobs
“Huh?” the hunter asked her, a look of confusion on her face.
“When you told Edora you wanted to see your dad, she said ‘last time you,’’’ the dwarf hissed. “Last time you what?”
Boone, the elf who I had fought against earlier, suddenly burst out into bouts of uncontrollable laughter ahead of us.
“Oh boy,” he started to say, “last time--”
“Shut up, Boone,” Maaren gritted out from behind her teeth. Quicker than a leopard, she reached down to the ground and snatched up a small rock, which she then launched at the back of Boone’s head and struck him just below the nape of his neck.
“Ow!” he exclaimed. “That wasn’t necessary, ‘Your Highness.’”
Maaren ignored him and looked at Kalista with an embarrassed grimace.
“Last time I saw my father, I might have implied he was a soul-sucking demon sent straight from the depths of hell to be the absolute worst dad possible,” she said quietly.
“She did more than that,” Edora called back with a cackle. “She told him, in front of the entire Unseelie court, that he had no business procreating and becoming a father, because he was a soulless bastard that had been raised from hell with the sole purpose of ruining her life.”
“I was sixteen!” Maaren cried out in protest. “Doesn’t every sixteen year old say that?”
“No,” we all said in unison.
“That’s intense,” Kalista said with a chuckle. “I had some blowouts with my dad, but I don’t think I ever told him he’d come straight from hell. I think the worst thing I ever called him was a ‘scum-eating swamp dragon’ when he insisted I do a photoshoot for my senior pictures.”
“Did your dad try to pull you from the only place you’d ever known and induct you into the Unseelie court?” Maaren asked.
“Nope, can’t say he did,” Ariette laughed.
“Well there you go!” the hunter cried out dramatically before she completely stopped in her tracks and stared straight ahead of her.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as I turned to follow her eye line.
In front of us, a huge clearing had been cut into the forest. It was at least as big as a football field, and I could see a few leftover tree stumps dotted around the edge. Other than that, the ground was completely bare. Grass and flowers had been planted around the edge, and in the center of the clearing, two long, low buildings stood opposite each other. They were vastly different than the enormous Seelie guild and looked to be made from dirt and clay that had been slapped together to create walls. The roofs were made of thatched saplings and flexible branches, and the doorways were nothing more than open archways. Behind the buildings, toward the edges of the clearing, small round huts stood dotted about. They were made of the same material as the buildings, but had crude doors made from sticks.
There was a bustle of Unseelie life in the clearing, not unlike the main entrance to the guild at home. Unseelie, dressed almost solely in human clothes, without a single Fae tunic or outfit in sight, dashed about. Some had armfuls of sticks and twigs, others carried dead rabbits and deer, and still others bore wicker baskets filled with all sorts of berries and plants. There were tall elves with skin that ranged from very light blue that almost looked like Seelie skin, to the same deep, dark blue of Maaren’s skin. Dwarves, all with teal blue skin and dark brown hair, bustled about, as did a few tiny fairies.
A couple of young elven boys played a game of tag on one edge of the clearing. Their happy laughter bubbled out and blanketed the space in a sense of joy and contentment, but the whole space felt oddly sad.
“This is where the Unseelie live?” I asked in shock.
“It didn’t used to be,” Danira grunted as she absorbed the little town. “This isn’t part of their territory.”
The Unseelie had always been more like a whispered story than real people to me, but I’d always imagined they had huge cities built somewhere off in the nether realm, with tall black skyscrapers and all sorts of interesting technology that kept them separated from the rest of us. But this little village looked like something straight out of the past, like a peaceful way of life that could never be achieved in the big city, where giants came down from the mountains and genetically modified trolls robbed banks.
“They’re supposed to be in the nether realm, right?” I asked.
“So we thought,” Danira growled angrily. “This is an outrageous breach of the treaty.”
I recalled my first day at the guild, when Ariette had explained that the Unseelie existed in the nether realm, and only in the nether realm. But even if the Reiner Forest bordered the nether realm, it was still very much a part of Seelie territory, and therefore off limits to all Unseelie according to the treaty.
“Wait here,” Edora ordered us. Maaren opened her mouth to protest, but the redhead raised a hand. “I’m going to go tell your father you’re here before you go barging in on him and give the king a heart attack.”
“Fine,” Maaren sighed, and we all paused just beyond the edge of the clearing.
We watched as Edora disappeared through a doorway in the middle of one of the buildings, followed by the rest of her crew. Maaren huffed out a few long sighs next to me, and her feet kicked at the dirt agitatedly as her hands fidgeted together. I glanced over to see she had crossed her arms in front of her chest and stared at the ground. It was all very un-Maaren like.
“Families are tough, huh?” I asked her softly as I reached out a hand to rub her bicep gently.
She didn’t even look up at me.
It was a very genuine question, since I’d never exactly had a family of my own. I didn’t count the foster family I managed to stay with for an entire year when I was twelve. It must be a strange experience, to be tethered to people without having a choice in the matter. To not like those people on top of that would be an even stranger experience.
“Tough is an understatement,” she sighed out. “I haven’t seen him in almost fifteen years. And the last thing I said to him was … well, you know. He’s not evil. Not good, but not evil.”
“I may not know much about families, Maaren, but I do know one thing,” I replied softly and waited until she glanced up to meet my eyes before I continued. “I can’t imagine anyone being unhappy to see you.”
She snorted out a laugh and shook her head, but I caught the slight purple blush that tinged her cheeks.
“Whatever you say, Milton,” she chuckled.
“So, uh, when did the Unseelie cross into our land?” Kalista demanded suddenly.
I turned to my right to see the small dwarf with both hands planted firmly on her hips. Her violet eyes were narrowed as she watched the Unseelie go about their business, like she thought that at any moment, one of them might unsheath a sword and try to run us all through like a shish kabob.
I briefly reminded myself she could be totally right.
“I don’t know, but it had to be within the last fifteen years,” Maaren shook her head. “Did any of you know about this?”
Ariette and Danira both shook their heads at her.
“They clearly haven’t bothered anyone,” I pointed out. “This would have been big news if they’d moved into our territory and started robbing and pillaging towns.”
“Good point,” Ariette said. “Still, it’s a huge violation of the treaty. I doubt the Seelie king knows anything about this. I wonder what he’d do if he did.”
“Probably start a war.” Maaren shrugged, and Ariette stared at her with wide eyes. “What? You know it’s true.”
“Maaren?” a creaky old voice called out at that moment.
The hunter inhaled sharply and closed her eyes for a brief moment as I patted her arm comfortingly. Then, her green eyes flew open and turned to look toward the far end of the clearing.
An older elf crossed toward us, followed closely by Edora and her identical team members, whom I’d now dubbed “the triplets.” The king’s posture was stick straight, and he had a purposeful stride just like Maar
en. However, his face was lined and wrinkled, and his lips had long ago thinned to almost nothing. For an elf to look that aged, he had to be at least a thousand years old, if not more. He had dark, midnight blue skin, and a shock of snow white hair that grew out from his head and flopped over rather awkwardly. He was the only Unseelie I’d seen so far who wore traditional Fae clothes. The king wore a long, gray robe with blue stitching, and worn out leather moccasins on his feet.
“Hi, Dad,” Maaren said in an almost monotonous voice, but I could see the way her upper lip quivered with emotion as she looked at the elder Unseelie.
I couldn’t imagine what that must feel like. Just like me, Maaren hadn’t grown up with parents. She was fortunate enough to be raised by her own grandmother, but I knew she had felt the same longing for shared blood I did. When she finally found the elf who had donated half of his DNA to her, she had been forced to choose between two different worlds. Put in that situation myself, I wasn’t sure what I would feel if I saw that man again. Especially now that I knew what she’d done the last time.
“Your dad is old,” Kalista whispered in astonishment as she stared at the Unseelie king in shock.
Ariette nudged her gently, and the dwarf whispered a hurried “sorry.”
The king suddenly stopped in his tracks about two feet from Maaren, and he just stared at the gap between them like it was an enormous chasm he was afraid he couldn’t cross. His lips parted and shut like a goldfish, and his bright green eyes slowly crossed the chasm to land on Maaren’s shoes before he abruptly glanced around at the many, many pairs of Unseelie eyes on us all.
I could almost feel the tension in everyone’s bodies. Danira rocked forward like she wanted to say something, but then threw a quick glance at Maaren, shook her head slightly, and rocked back on her heels. She probably figured this was Maaren’s territory right now. We could all let her navigate it the way she wanted, at least for the moment.
“Why’d you move?” Maaren asked suddenly.
The king looked up at her in surprise. “T-The Phobos took over the nether realm,” he said slowly. His white eyebrows crept together until they furrowed into a deep frown. “Didn’t you get any of my letters?’
“Uh, no,” the hunter said uncomfortably. “I didn’t know … I expect Hasen intercepted all of them.”
“That does sound like him,” the king replied dryly. “So, then, I’m guessing this isn’t a social visit to your elderly father.”
“No,” Maaren said quickly before she yanked me toward her. “It’s about the Phobos, actually. Dad, this is the Racmoth.”
A myriad of emotions crossed the elderly king’s face, and an audible gasp escaped the mouths of the Unseelie close enough to hear Maaren’s words. The king’s green eyes flicked from Maaren to me, and his expression evolved from shock, to disbelief, to excitement, to absolute wonder as he stared at me like I was one of the statues in the Jefferson City Museum.
I shifted uncomfortably under his sharp gaze and squared up my shoulders.
“So it really has come to this,” he breathed out finally.
Even though he was still looking directly at me, I felt as if the old man no longer really saw me.
“I’m Milton,” I finally said and stuck my hand out in greeting.
The king glanced down at my hand and let out a harsh laugh.
“How very human-like,” he said, his tone amused as he reached out to shake my hand. “The only other person who’s ever offered their hand to me was my daughter. I am Orion, King of the Unseelie. And I believe you have my son’s Hand.”
I grimaced involuntarily, even though I knew this would come at some point. Maaren had once told me Fae could sense the Hands of Power of the people they were related to, even after the transfer had occurred. Plus, it would be a pretty big coincidence for me to just suddenly have a Hand of Blood right at the same time his son, who had the same Hand, passed away.
“I do,” I said evenly. “Your son was very brave. He did a great service to me, and to the world. The Racmoth wouldn’t exist without his sacrifice.”
The king sighed heavily, and a nostalgic smile crossed his face.
“My son always did want to be on the side of justice,” he replied slowly. “Just like my daughter.”
“Look, Dad, as much as we’d love to keep chit-chatting, we are on a mission,” Maaren interrupted his musings. “You said the Phobos pushed you out of the nether realm. How did that happen? They must have been fairly powerful to defeat you in battle.”
“Not strong in the mind of the Seelie,” Orion considered, “but our numbers are small. We did not want to risk the loss of lives if we fought back, so we agreed to move out willingly.”
“So, let me get this straight,” Danira finally spoke up from behind me, her voice gruff. “You don’t want to take the Phobos’ side?”
“I imagine you believe all the Unseelie are a bunch of tricksters who’d like nothing better than to see the world go up in flames? Or, as my daughter so gracefully put it to me, that we are evil beings sent straight from hell?” he questioned the commander. There was no judgement in his voice, but rather a tone of resignation, like this was a stereotype he often corrected.
“Not exactly what I’m saying,” Danira muttered. “The relationship between our peoples hasn’t exactly been the most stable.”
“Nonetheless, to answer your question, my Seelie friend, we are not just and good the way your kind are. You want absolute peace and for every small crime to receive swift justice. We may not want those things, but we do not want to see the world ruled by terrible, malevolent elves,” Orion answered her calmly. “That does no one any good.”
“Good to know,” Danira replied, her tone icily calm.
“Can you tell us more about them?” Maaren demanded. “The Phobos. Milton’s been talking to a dragon--”
The king raised a single hand about two words in to Maaren’s second sentence, and she trailed off slowly. Fire lit up her eyes, and I watched her jaw clench in annoyance at the trivial way Orion had silenced her. Yet she paused all the same. It was a stark contrast to the Maaren we all knew. If anyone else had done that, she would have bitten their head off.
“My child, I have not seen you in years,” Orion said quietly. “Would you not do me the honor of a meal before you demand answers from me. Unless, of course, you still believe I was raised from the depths of hell.”
“It’s under debate,” the hunter muttered through gritted teeth. She glanced over to me and tilted her head in question.
I looked toward the rest of the team, who all nodded slowly, before I shrugged to Maaren.
The king and Edora watched our exchange with eagle eyes.
“One meal,” Maaren finally agreed, “but you have to answer all of our questions.”
“It’s only fair.” The king smiled back at her, and I got the sense he found joy in the bantering and bargaining with his daughter, regardless of how annoyed it might make her.
Chapter Eleven
“Follow me, then,” Orion proclaimed, and he spun around on his heel in a way that reminded me of Maaren whenever she got an idea in her head. “It will be a feast for the ages.”
“Follow him, then,” Maaren reiterated with a slightly mocking tone. She rolled her bright green eyes and swept her hand forward dramatically as we all stepped into stride behind the king and Edora.
Our newfound Unseelie allies led us into the nicer of the two structures, and we found ourselves surrounded by an archaic-yet-elegant interior. There were a few pictures hung haphazardly on the muddy walls, and any furniture present was made of sticks and hay.
“Sooo, do you guys eat, like, normal food?” Kalista asked Edora as she bounced ahead of the rest of us. “I just need to prepare myself in case you’re going to serve roasted cockroaches or shellfish that come out of a tree. I saw this documentary about old human tribes who use to crack open an entire, rotting tree stump and pull worms out of it. And then they ate the worms. Totally raw. I haven�
�t been the same since. Nightmares for weeks, let me tell ya. So I just want to mentally ready myself to go toe to toe with some giant tree worm at this meal, ya know?”
Edora flipped her red curls over her shoulder and cast a sideways glance at the dwarf. She curled her lip and smiled snidely.
“Of course we don’t eat worms,” Edora sneered.
“Oh, thank God!” Kal cried out as we turned into an archway about halfway down the second building.
“We much prefer the green horned beetle to forest worms,” Edora finished off quickly, and I saw the entire back of Kal’s body shrink down in horror.
“They don’t eat bugs, Kal, don’t worry,” Maaren assured her. “Way to make friends, Edora.”
“That’s never quite been my talent, as you’ll recall,” the redhead shot back calmly.
I turned my attention from their conversation to survey the room we’d just stepped into. It was sparsely furnished, and a far cry from the glorious dining hall in the Seelie guild, with its overflowing buffets full of fresh, hot food. There was a single, long communal dining table in the center of the room that looked as if it had been carved from a tree trunk, with fifty or so mismatched chairs around it. In front of each chair was a plate with a fork, knife, and napkin next to it.
Against the far wall, opposite the door, was a long countertop and a single, wood burning stove. A few baskets of fruits and vegetable sat along the middle of the table in four foot intervals, and two roasted rabbits had been placed at one end of the surface.
The walls were all made of the same mud that the outside of the building was made of, but I could see patterns and designs had been drawn into the mud before it had dried. Some of them were extremely well done, with looping spirals and nearly perfect lines. Others looked like they’d been drawn by children. There were flowers and people, and those suns that kids always draw with a huge circle and a bunch of lines stuck out of it.
Orion took a seat at the head of the table, right in front of the rabbits, and motioned for the rest of us to sit as well. Edora was quick to follow her king, and she sat at his right hand instantly. I didn’t miss the victorious glance she threw at Maaren, but the hunter herself didn’t seem to care. Instead, Maaren took a seat as far from her father as she possibly could without leaving the group.
