Ferrous (Fae's Folly Book 1)

by Valerie Mars

  “Well met, Brooks,” he all but howls.

  Bash hollers from Pebbles. “Mallory, did you break him?”

  I sure hope I did.

  12

  Mallory

  I didn’t break him. It isn’t long before his detached mask slips back into place, and it’s all I can do to muster up the question he owes me. By now it’s probably been an hour, and I’ve had plenty of time to consider what I’ll ask.

  Originally, the War of the Ancients was at the top of the list. Then it was Underfae, and where exactly in society they sit. The name doesn’t have kind connotations, does it? I haven’t heard it uttered with the same disdain as when people mention Techies, though. The Techie resentment makes another rung on the list, but I suppose it’s only natural that two factions living so differently would butt heads sometimes.

  There are other words or phrases I would ask of, but I’m wagering those are things Bash or Kai would speak of freely with me. Why waste a question with Ryland on something I can hear elsewhere? Of course, there’s no telling if he’ll actually honor any question I ask, but I owe it to myself and this lonely horse ride to think of something good.

  His low voice interrupts my thoughts. “You keep sighing.”

  A caveman-like grunt escapes me. “I’m only moderately aware. I’ve been going over all the questions I could ask you, trying to narrow it down to one.”

  “And what such queries are these?”

  “These are statements, not questions, by the way.” At least I’m familiar with genie lore. “I’ve been wondering if pumpkins grow as large as Cinderella here, who the Underfae are, why you hate humans, and maybe why you didn’t notify me I had stolen your bed. Just to name a few.”

  “Hmm?” he hums, the vibration shooting down my spine.

  Damn these ASMR-sensitive ears. “I’d have gladly slept on the couch, you know.”

  “At that point, the bed was already ruined.”

  I thrust my tongue into the side of my cheek and take a long drag of oxygen in hopes it’ll render me less stabby. I can’t remember the last time someone made me lose my cool so quickly, and I literally get shat on for a living. Still, I’m curious if there’s anything redeeming hidden behind his pewter glare. Even Liam’s step-dad has something going for him, I’m sure.

  Yep, my mind is made. “Who’s your favorite person?”

  His reply is immediate, and I have no cause to doubt his veracity.

  “My sister.” Then his leg nudges Brigit into a canter and I yelp. Holy guacamole, I am not prepared for this. The ground looks so far away suddenly as my mouth grows dry. I was foolish to feel comfortable. My palms moisten Ryland’s wrists as I dig my nails into him without a shred of remorse. Mercifully, his arms lock around me to prevent my tumbling to the earth.

  And at some point in my terror—I’m not sure when—I get it. It’s not as bad as I thought it’d be. Hell, it might not even be as bad as the trot. My back straightens and I find support from my abs I didn’t know I have left. I begin to respond to the rolls the same way Ryland does behind me, and then we’re navigating the waves in unison. Wow, that sounds repulsive.

  Kai and Bash catch up and ride on either side of us. Kai’s face is one of fury when he shouts to ask if I’m alright. It’s uncharacteristic and kind of hot; I almost crack up amid everything.

  “I think…I’m getting…used to it,” I gasp between bounces. But my boobs still aren’t. The dainty handkerchief of a bra underneath my sweater is holding on for dear life, my melons lacking even a butterfly’s whisper of strength to sit through the horse’s movements. Okay, they aren’t melons. They’re closer to Granny Smiths, minus the granny part. Either way, my lady lumps are tumbling like a sack of fruit being put through the dry cycle.

  I’m not the only one who notices. Bash, concerned moments ago, now stares at my chest like it holds the secrets to the universe. I try to shoot him a disgusted look, but my face is already twisted from focusing on how to not fall off the horse. Not that he’d notice. His eyes are nowhere near my face.

  “Ankerstrand!” Ryland barks. “You’re distracting my passenger. If she falls and we’re made even more late by stopping to mend her, I won’t hesitate to inform the council of what caused our delay.”

  That seems to work, for his gaze lifts to mine. “You didn’t ask for my flattery, but you have it all the same,” he says with a bow of a nod. “My apologies, Mallory.”

  It’s rare for him to use my entire first name. How formal. “Forgiven, Sebastian.” And I am somewhat flattered. I never thought much of my chest, but any chest would look more magical on horseback, I reckon.

  “And don’t let the King of Hot Air fool you into thinking he doesn’t realize he has the best damn seat in the house!” he adds.

  “Now you do flatter her,” Ryland counters. Rude, but it meets expectations.

  I look to Kai, whose blank stare says he’s as over this as I am. “I wish I had listened to you sooner in that field.” Then I could be on his horse, listening to him babble about Middle-earth or something as I take in the scenery.

  He responds by waving his bandaged hand at me with a tight smile.

  We cover more distance by intermittent canter, but the day is unending. I long to ride with Kai or Bash, but know my place with Ryland is for the best when clusters of buildings begin to freckle the terrain. We’re entering fae suburbia.

  Kai and Bash pull in close when we reach the borders of a sizable town. It’s late morning or early afternoon now, and the streets bustle with fae. Most are busy and pay us no mind, but some pause to taste the air. Ryland’s muscles tense under my grip on his wrists so reliably that it becomes a tell of when my scent is catching notice. Still, none of the busy fae are curious enough to investigate.

  At one point, Kai flags Ryland’s attention, pointing to the town’s infirmary. A mother carries her child inside, his stomach too swollen for his small frame. Ryland looks to Bash, who nods in return. It’s no wonder they pay me less mind. They probably think I’m another sick fae.

  It’s convenient for now, but I can’t imagine my iron-rich perfume will escape notice with ease if this condition proves to be massively infectious. And if they blame the Techies? The thought makes my gut clench. I smell like both. Bash is on the money in saying I need to get out of here.

  The next town we drift through doesn’t seem to be experiencing anything out of the ordinary. Several more fae sample the air, one spitting on the ground and muttering “sep” as we pass. Charming.

  Bash stops at a market, and we continue past town until finding a stream to water the horses. He meets us ten minutes later with an armful of apples and carrots, along with sandwiches made of honey and some variety of nut butter. I nibble on my sandwich while watching Kai feed the horses chunks of apple and carrot, enjoying the afternoon sun and peaceful babble of the creek. No later than twenty minutes after, we’re on the road again.

  I expect the suburbia to thicken into a city, but the terrain defies my expectations by decreasing instead. The buildings grow more and more sparse until we’re surrounded by rolling fields. For miles around, there’s nothing. Not a single farm house or crop to be seen; just miles of yellowed fall foliage. At one point we crest a hill, and from it I’m able to see to the top of the next hill—or maybe it’s more like a plateau. A massive white wall gleams at the top, the peaks of the many towering structures behind it just barely visible from our vantage at the bottom of the slope. I don’t envy our horses.

  “You’ll remain quiet,” Ryland orders. My shoulders tighten in response.

  “I just want to go home.”

  “And you will, provided you play along and,” he reaches a hand back and pulls my hood on, “keep your head covered.”

  Oh, right. My ears. The road is nowhere near as crowded as they predicted, and the afternoon sun was getting warm. “Thank you,” I mumble begrudgingly.

  The next five minutes follow in agonizing silence, feeling like an eternity as we march tow
ard a gap in the wall guarded by three men and a female.

  “State your name and purpose!” one of the males calls from afar.

  Ryland speaks calmly, his voice aided by wind. “Ryland Everhart, Sebastian Ankerstrand, and Kaiser Varigarde with a Separatist, if it please you.”

  I dart a look to Kai and he cringes. What an unfortunate name. If his horse Berenger is any indication, Kaiser was also his father’s choosing. Where’d he pick his names from, Mein Kampf?

  “Mister Everhart! Welcome back. You may approach. We only need to inspect the sep.”

  “Certainly.” His fists tighten around the reins and elicit a squeak of protest from the leather, but his voice betrays no tension.

  We stop before the checkpoint and two of the males step out to meet us. One with short brown hair, the other’s long and dark as night. Two Winters, maybe? Or a Summer and Winter?

  The same voice from before sounds from the brunette. “We expected your party a day ago, Mister Everhart.” He looks at me, and I press on a small smile. “A sep, eh? We’ve had many recently, but she looks to be in better shape, eh Perry?”

  “Her condition looks reversible,” the other male agrees, “but she’s definitely fresh,” he says with a wrinkled nose.

  “We found her outside Appelton,” Ryland states. “Wretched thing came from the forest, nearly faint with dehydration and covered in scratches. We called upon a Healer Bryce and took the day to patch her up.”

  “Didn’t even teach her to ride, did they? May the capital city treat this Spring flower better than those savages,” Perry spits. Aww, the beautiful fae guard thinks I’m beautiful.

  I nod with a mask of shyness, trying very hard not to break Ryland’s no talking rule.

  The brunette looks at Kai. “Mister Varigarde, may I trouble you to relay a message to Master Varigarde?”

  “Of course.”

  “Some of our soldiers traced their heritage deeper, discovering higher aptitude. We will need more Underfae personnel to fill their positions if they are to participate in the matching, sir.”

  “That’s what we’re calling it? I will make sure your soldiers have relief, Lieutenant.”

  “Thank you, sir,” he says with a salute before shouting back to the remaining guards. “Clear!” Their forms relax at their posts, as does mine. The Lieutenant and Perry part to either side in permission.

  Ryland dips his head to both. “Enjoy your afternoon, gentlemen.”

  The wall we pass underneath has to be at least ten feet thick. The several trapdoors and booby traps I imagine along the way would be more entertaining if this were a tour of castle ruins and not one that’s live and armed. Judging by the creaks of movement overhead, the traps likely exist and are fully operational.

  “This is the Winter Quarter,” Kai says. His breath hangs in the air, and my skin pebbles at the sudden drop in temperature. Fresh snow crunches underneath our horses’ hooves as he continues. “While we are free to reside anywhere we choose, like calls to like. Over time, the outer rings of the capital city divided into four quarters representing each season. The inner ring houses the citadel which tends to follow the realm’s natural cycles due to the variety of fae that conduct business there.”

  My hands are getting cold already. “Can we go to another quarter or stick me with Bash?”

  “I knew you missed me, Mally-girl,” he says, waggling his copper brows.

  “You can call it whatever you want if it gets me warm.”

  Our horse hangs a right. “Autumn it is,” Ryland declares. Kai and Bash fall in behind. We wind through several market areas and alleys, the fae on the street a sea of black and midnight and white. Many of their cloaks are trimmed in fur, and one female shopping for feathers has the softest looking white fur cowl wrapped around her shoulders. She looks like a marshmallow princess from Siberia with her icy features and rosy cheeks. Her dainty nose crinkles as we pass.

  We travel beneath a smaller gate, this one only about five feet thick and manned by two fae. They salute Kai as we enter.

  “He’s well respected,” I whisper.

  “And don’t let him tell you it wasn’t earned,” Bash remarks. The only secrets around fae ears are those left unvoiced.

  My pulse quickens with every step toward the citadel as my mind buzzes. I still have so much I want to ask before the portal home, even if I wake up in the alley swearing I’m hungover. Maybe we can negotiate a few extra days to answer questions and investigate whether Bash can make the perfect s’more.

  Entering the Autumn Quarter provides instant relief. It’s still less than comfortable, but the sting on my cheeks and nose is already melting away. The trees in this quarter cling to their last few leaves, months in the past compared to the frost-encrusted branches that line the streets of Winter Quarter. The fae here wear many dark earth tones, with periwinkles and lavenders mixed throughout. I wish I knew the story on that, because purple doesn’t really scream fall to me. I don’t begrudge its existence, however, when my eyes linger on a lithe male with silver hair falling to his waist. Yummy.

  “Eyes on the road, Brooks,” Ryland murmurs with a hint of amusement.

  “Gotta take in the sights while I still can,” I say shamelessly.

  He snorts. “Shall we take the long road, then?”

  A male with crimson hair narrows his eyes in my direction. “Maybe not.”

  “There’s survival instinct in you, after all.”

  “Psh, you should have seen me in the field. I had them laying on their stomachs.”

  “I don’t think that’s entirely truthful,” Kai interjects.

  “I’m sure it was a sight to behold,” Ryland replies.

  We continue through the trade district of Autumn Quarter, winding through the streets as they lazily slope upward. As to be expected, the shops and markets give way to residences, which increase in quality and size as we ascend. Even in the fae world, rich people get the best views. Still, I’ve yet to notice anyone like Bill.

  Branches of lush green just over a wall call to me like a siren: Summer Quarter. I long to feel the blazing sun after so many hours of Autumn air, but we continue upward until we meet another enormous wall encircling the citadel. The arch of the gateway is embellished with carvings of stags overlooking craggy ravines, but the images are barely decipherable beneath the metal screen fastened overtop. A measure taken to protect them during battle, maybe? What a shame.

  This gate is also staffed, but no one attempts to question our party. I guess we’re deep enough into the city by now. A few standing vigil do welcome Ryland and Kai, one whispering to the others. “Is that August Ankerstrand?”

  “His younger twin, sorry to inform,” Bash says in a tart tone. Holy shit, Bash has a twin? I try to imagine two of Bash running amok, causing problems in one instance and fixing them with a charming smile in the next. Their mother must have the patience of a saint.

  “Please send your brother our regards!”

  “Aye,” he says with a wide smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

  When we cross the threshold, the makeup of the road shifts. The horses now clip-clop over a mosaic of white flagstone and glossy, marble-like slabs. The milky slabs sprinkled throughout the flagstone carry dusty purple striations like I’ve never seen. It’s stunning.

  I speak over my shoulder as best I can. “What’s the stone on the road with purple bits?” Of course it hits me afterward that speaking over my shoulders was entirely unnecessary with bat ears behind me.

  “Lavender jade. To represent Autumn.”

  Isn’t jade soft? “How do you guys get away with letting horses walk on it?” Foot traffic alone would wear paths into it over time, I imagine.

  “Our gifts allow us to strengthen the material so it may be enjoyed for centuries to come. You’ll find many things are improved compared to your own realm.”

  His statement is matter-of-fact, but carries a familiar bite. “So do the other quarters have their own fancy roads leading to the
citadel?”

  “They do.” He doesn’t elaborate, but by now I’m used to it. Kai jumps in.

  “Spring has a lovely rose quartz, Summer roads are a glittering citrine that looks like gold, and Winter has boring gray marble that was a compromise between obsidian and white marble, I believe.”

  “Dreadful,” Bash agrees.

  I wish I had my phone for the Spring road, because the rose quartz mosaic would light up social media. What would those girls who go crazy for a rose quartz water bottle do if they saw a city paved in it?

  The Autumn theme holds until we reach a four-way crossroad at the center of the city. An imposing, castle-like structure with countless spires sprawls before us, reminding me of Emerald City except 150% less phallic. The citadel sits stark white, but several panels of multi-colored quartz acting as natural stained glass soften its austerity. The glare of it all in the late afternoon sun has my eyes watering.

  I drag the back of my hand across my eyes. Damn, that’s bright.

  “I’m surprised mortals can be moved by the beauty of fae craftsmanship,” Ryland mutters overhead.

  “Hush, Eversmart.” I really hope the way he carries himself isn’t indicative of his father and the council’s disposition.

  But who am I trying to kid?

  13

  Mallory

  “No, you’ve done enough,” I say, ducking Ryland’s assistance in my descent from Brigit. Bash catches me as I ooze off the horse into a puddle of bruised flesh and ego. The stable hand’s jaw slackens at my insolence toward Saint Everhart. Remind me to dye my hair lavender the next time I visit, because apparently it’s the golden ticket to having your dick sucked around here. Bash ropes me into a bear hug not a moment after my toes touch the ground, cutting through my irritation with salty smoke.