by Zoe Chant
Tadra drew back. Behind Robin’s court of honor, Cerad was standing, his arms crossed. He wore red and raven black. Her eyes were used to the glory of the world now, and she could see that he looked wistful, hanging back in the shadows of the flowering trees.
She went cautiously to greet him, leaving Ansel with their shieldmates.
“Kevin,” she said when she stepped into the dappled shadows with him.
“I go by Cerad again,” he said. Then he knelt and offered his palms up. “I know it has been longer for you than it has for me, but I will owe you compensation until faery itself crumbles of age.”
He’d stolen the key bond she’d been meant to have with Ansel.
He’d destroyed her world and dethroned Robin.
He was the reason that her firebird was barely the size of a moth.
Tadra slowly smiled, because none of that mattered now.
“You were not yourself,” she said, drawing him back up to his feet. “And if you had been, I would never have been a knight, would never have been entrusted with the firebird magic, would never have found the love of my life in another world. Ansel told me what it was that he gave you that brought you back to who you are, and I believe that you have suffered more than I have by now.”
Cerad bowed his head, and Tadra impulsively took his face in hers and put her forehead to his. “Use your new heart to love this world while I am away,” she charged him. “That will be your atonement forever.”
“It is done,” he agreed. Then he looked over her shoulder and winced. “But your consort may not agree with your forgiveness.”
Ansel’s hand slipped into her own. “Kevin,” he said cautiously. “Cerad.”
Fabio did a frenzied lap of them all, Trucker at his tail, and they were pursued by the crown sighthounds, prancing and playing.
“Your work was well done,” Cerad told Ansel with a bow when the dogs had returned to frolic with the main party. “Our world has never been so alive. It has more now than it ever did, new imagination and vision. There are parts that we still haven’t fully explored: gardens of memories ripe for picking, deep caves of crystal inspiration, hills where sunlight casts no color.”
“Magic has its own life. I just got it started,” Ansel said humbly, but he looked pleased, and he shook Cerad’s hand when it was offered. “Robin said they have something for us,” he told Tadra. “They wanted all the knights to come.”
“Hurry, Tadra!” Trey called. “We are all waiting on you. Again!” The other knights sometimes liked to tease her for the time they’d spent looking for her ornament.
Tadra hastened with Ansel back to where Robin stood near the portal, summer on their side, winter still dark on the other. Cerad came behind them, more slowly. They were met by an honor guard of dogs; Vesta was holding her own with the larger canines, even the winged ones.
Her shieldmates were standing in a semi-circle before Robin and Tadra fell into the final open place, Ansel dropping back with Daniella, Heather, and Gwen. Robin gestured Ansel forward. “This will be for you, also.”
Ansel stepped forward to stand at Tadra’s side, glancing at her curiously. She shrugged. I don’t know.
They often still spoke in their secret language that wasn’t quite sign. It gave them an excuse to gaze at each other, and say things they might not in front of other people. I love you, she signed, though by now, everyone knew that one.
Robin cleared their throat and Tadra dutifully turned her attention forward again.
“You were each ready to sacrifice yourself to save a world you’d known only a short time,” they observed. “There is no payment I can make to you that is equal measure. But while you are here…”
Robin spread their fingers and Tadra felt the magic of faery surge up into her, familiar and fond.
Tadra realized at once what they were doing and she spread her wings in delight, making Ansel duck in surprise because she was not her hummingbird size at all, but her firebird in full glory and power. She streaked up into the sky like a comet, spilling sparks behind her and opening her beak to cry out in joy.
She did a tumbling roll, then returned to backwing into her place before Robin, who looked patiently amused.
They turned next to Rez. “I know that you have always wanted wings,” they said simply, and then Rez was unfolding great blueish wings from his sides as he tried to prance in place and look back to see them, all at the same time. He nickered and tossed his head, his golden horn flashing.
“We’ll have to teach you how to use those,” Henrik teased him, stepping back from an awkward wingstroke that threatened to knock him over. He had to dodge a kick and turned it into a leap into the air in his gryphon shape, his full size like Tadra’s.
Trey barreled after them with a powerful leap into the air, and his wings blocked out the golden sunlight for a moment.
Ansel was watching all of this with amusement, still clearly unsure of his role in this pageant. Tadra had a sudden guess and settled beside him to face Robin with her beak clacking.
“Ansel, crown-for-a-time, you served us better than any of us had any right to ask you to. You were ready to sacrifice the only form you knew for a world you could only imagine. You were able to do what none of the rest of us could.”
Tadra shivered back into her human shape solely so that she could clap her hands with glee as she realized what was happening.
Ansel could see that the knights were happy to have—for this short time anyway—their full power back. None of them ever said a word of complaint, but it was a hard fall from mythical hero to mostly human...even if they could still take a tiny, diminished version of their magical shape.
He should know.
Ansel sometimes wistfully remembered the power that had surged through him, and what he’d been for that time. He’d been something greater than human, had a scope of vision and an understanding of all the things that comprised life and reality. Everything had been greater and grander and more glorious.
He wasn’t sorry to be human now, but he knew that he’d never be the same again. It was like remembering a few bars of a beautiful song, compared to sitting before a swelling orchestra. It was having the perfect meal and never being able to recreate the mix of spices for it again. The tiny magic he had now was a faint echo of the real thing, and the memory itself was bittersweet.
Ansel bowed his head to Robin. “I was glad to do it.”
“For a time, you had all the magic of my world inside you, and that isn’t the kind of thing that leaves you untouched,” Robin observed. “Like the deep magic left an impression in each of my knights, you have an imprint in your soul.”
“I can make faery lights,” Ansel said. “But I can’t do portals or scrying or change into a magical creature.”
“That is because you didn’t recognize your magical creature,” Robin explained and Ansel had a little thrill of hope.
What would he be? he wondered. A dragon? There already was a dragon. What was left? He felt like he was waiting to be picked for a sports team, and all the best roles were already taken.
The magic settled into him like it was coming home, not the burning rush of trying to control too much, but a measured wave of pleasant power. Ansel realized he’d been bracing himself for pain and let out a breath he’d been holding.
He felt different.
“What am I?” he asked. He didn’t appear to be changed in form, but he could feel it, crackling all around him like a friendly campfire. Was he a phoenix? A firebird like Tadra? He craned his head to look behind him and found a confusion of wings.
Tadra was grinning at him, ear-to-ear, with delight and joy.
He still had hands, if slightly glowy hands, and legs and, when he tested by touch, he seemed to have his own face.
Fable, Tadra signed at him when he looked at her with all the questions in his face. You are a fable!
“It was my power that you took up to save our worlds,” Robin said, “and I am afraid that at the time y
ou suffered all of its troubles and enjoyed none of its pleasures.”
It wasn’t like it had been before, seeing too much, feeling everything without buffer or meter. Ansel could see all the filmy layers of reality, but wasn’t overwhelmed by the maddening amount of information. It was the difference between being tumbled to pieces in a vicious ocean curl and floating on a gentle swell of surf.
A fable.
Which meant… “How do I fly?” he asked, after he’d turned in a circle trying to make sense of his wings. Were they feathered? Stained glass? He couldn’t tell; they teased at the edges of his vision.
“I’ll show you,” Tadra said. She leaped into the air and spread sparking wings.
Ansel laughed and followed her without thinking, climbing into the air behind her as easily as if he’d been doing it all his life.
It wasn’t like he’d imagined flying as a child, arms outspread until they ached. It was more like running, breakneck, down a hill: thrilling and a little out of control.
The other knights joined them after a few cartwheels and swooping arcs through buttery clouds, even Rez, who had taken to his new wings with the same kind of ease that Ansel had once he trusted them.
The five of them did lazy chase-and-laugh games for a time, then went separate ways, Tadra’s shieldmates returning to their keys as Tadra and Ansel went to explore what they could of the renewed faery world that Ansel had built. They spent some time in the vast canopy of a golden jungle, and walked over crystal mountaintops that overlooked valleys of rainbow patchwork, landing at last in a forest grove next to a floral-scented pool of water floating with glowing orbs.
Beautiful, Tadra signed, when she shifted back to human form. You have the eye.
They made love there, in a carpet of soft, musical moss, and the very best sound was Tadra’s voice, saying his name with passion.
They drowsed together for a short time before Ansel began to feel anxious to get back.
“We could stay here,” he offered, as he had before. He traced the long lines of Tadra’s body with one hand where she stretched happily in the moss. It was hard to imagine returning to mundane life after wonders like this. He sat up to pluck a bud from the tree beside them, and made it bloom and change color and chime like bells before he placed it in Tadra’s hair, where it started to purr.
“What is power without purpose?” Tadra said, sounding perfectly content. “I would be bored with perfection and ease. I was chosen as a knight because I love challenge and there is none left here.”
“My world, on the other hand…” Ansel started wryly.
“Our world,” Tadra insisted, sitting up. The flower in her hair grew wings and fluttered away. “We are entangled. I would love it because you love it, but I have come to see all of its beauty through your eyes. It is a world worth the labor.”
Ansel leaned in and kissed her. “My friend James thinks I should run for office.”
“Office?” Tadra said in confusion.
“Local assembly or something,” Ansel said. “Nothing fancy. It’s...just a place to start doing some real good.”
“You are good at systems, at solving problems,” Tadra agreed, nodding. “And you are already working to change the world. You should have a title for your efforts.”
“Assemblyman Ansel?” Ansel chuckled. “It’s alliterative.”
Tadra squinted at him. “Maybe Lord Mayor Ansel,” she suggested. “Or Governor.”
“I don’t know about that,” Ansel said. “That’s probably setting the bar too high.”
“You are the savior of two worlds,” Tadra said with a laugh. “You are a shieldmate of the crown! You are a fable! Your ambitions are too humble!”
“You save the faery world just once, and all of sudden there are all these expectations,” Ansel complained in jest. “Anyway, I’m sure that an opponent would have no trouble dredging up bad press about the eccentric Norwegian hippy commune that I run.”
They laughed together and plotted a future as the light overhead turned golden and then violet. The song from the moss turned to a musical bass murmur.
“We should go back,” Tadra said with a sigh. “The portal will close soon.”
“Will you miss it?” Ansel asked anxiously, as they got to their feet. He sometimes worried that Tadra was giving up too much to stay with him, that she would regret leaving faery for a dingy human world.
She put her arms around his neck and kissed him. “No,” she said firmly, drawing back. “You are my world. You are my key. You are my everything.”
Her key, Ansel thought with a jolt of utter contentment. Who needed a title, or a faery world, or fable wings, when he had Tadra in his heart?
I love you, he signed in the small of her back because his mouth was busy.
I love you, she signed back against his shoulders.
They returned to the party again in a flash of fable intention through an instant portal. Ansel had no regrets leaving the power behind as all of them went back through the portal to their own world and let the veil shut again across cries of farewell and promises for the next year.
It was cold and dark, very suddenly, and fireworks exploded overhead as the old year turned into a new one.
Trucker, at Tadra’s feet, whined and tucked his tail in. Ansel bent to ruffle his ears. It was slightly weird not to have wings, but he would get used to it again.
“Let’s go home,” he said, and he walked back to the cars with one hand in Tadra’s, a single faery light leading their way.
I hope that you enjoyed the conclusion of Fae Shifter Knights! I really needed this book right now, and maybe you did, too. Be sure to join my mailing list for updates about my new books, or join me in my Reader’s VIP group on Facebook.
A Thank You from Zoe
Thank you for reading! I really loved writing about Tadra and Ansel, and I hope you enjoyed their story.
If you’d like to be emailed when I release my next book, please click here to be added to my mailing list. You can also visit my webpage, where I have a complete book list by series, or follow me on Facebook or Twitter. You are also invited to join my VIP Readers Group on Facebook, where I show off new covers first, and you can get sneak previews and ask questions.
This cover (and the bookmark above) were done by Ellen Million. The ornament on the cover was commissioned specifically for this book from A Touch of Glass. Their webpage is: glass4gifts.com.
I always love to know what you thought – I would love to read your review at Amazon or Goodreads or Bookbub, or email me at [email protected]. I love to hear from my readers!
Readers like you are why I write, and I am so grateful for all of your support.
~Zoe
Other Work by Zoe Chant
The Royal Dragons of Alaska (writing as Elva Birch): A fascinating alternate world where Alaska is ruled by secret dragon shifters. Adventure, romance, and humor! Reluctant royalty, relentless enemies…dogs, camping, and magic! Start with The Dragon Prince of Alaska.
Shifting Sands Resort (writing as Zoe Chant): A complete ten book series - plus two collections of shorts. This is a thrilling shifter romance set at a tropical island resort. Each book stands alone but connects into a great mystery with a thrilling conclusion. Start with Tropical Tiger Spy or dive in to the Omnibus edition, with all of the novels, short stories, and novellas in my preferred reading order!
A Day Care for Shifters (writing as Elva Birch): A hot new full-length series about adorable shifter kids and their struggling single parents in a town full of mystery and surprise. Start the series with Wolf’s Instinct, when Addison comes to Nickel City to take a job at a very special day care and finds a family to belong to. A gentle ice-cream-straight-from-the-container escape. Sweet and sizzling!
Green Valley Shifters (writing as Zoe Chant): A sweet, small town series with single dads, secret shifters, sweet kids, and spinsters. Low-peril and steamy! Standalone books where you can revisit your favorite characters. Start with Dancing Baref
oot!
Suddenly Shifters (writing as Elva Birch): A hilarious series of novellas, serials, and shorts set in the small town of Anders Canyon, where something (in the water?) is making ordinary citizens turn into shifters. Start with Something in the Water!
Birch Hearts (writing as Elva Birch): An enchanting collection of short stories and novellas. Unconstrained by theme or setting, each short read has romance, magic, and heart, with a satisfying conclusion. And always, the impossible and irresistible. Start with a sampler plate in Prompted 2 for fourteen pieces of sweet-to-sizzling flash fiction, or dive in with the novella, Better Half. Breakup is a free story!
The Book I’m not Writing
She's got one life to live
Anita takes a chance at a job she's not sure she can handle and she's tickled pink when the gorgeous billionaire picks her little bakery to cater his big charity event. But what was supposed to be the opportunity of a lifetime turns into the storm of a century.
He's got one leg to stand on
Frank Wilson has built his reputation and his world-spanning lawn ornament business on one tenet: honesty. There's nothing fake about Frank Wilson -- not his fabulous fortune or his amazing physique.
...or his inner flamingo.
Trapped together with his fated mate in his big empty office building with two thousand gourmet cupcakes and no power, Frank is sure that -- finally -- nothing will stand between him and everything that he'd ever wanted, in the arms of a curvy woman wearing an apron. The only problem is, she's not interested in settling down to join his flock.
