Shadowspell f-2

by Jenna Black

  The mountain was densely populated, the residents of Avalon having crammed as many buildings as possible into the limited space, and yet it still managed to be lush and green. Everyone here seemed to have window boxes overflowing with flowers, and ivy took advantage of every unpaved spot to take root and crawl up the façade of the nearest building. Practically every inch of the city was a postcard waiting to happen.

  Because of my unimpeded view, I was able to see clear down to the moat that surrounded Avalon, crossed by the bridge that led to the Western Gate. From up high, the moat looked as picturesque as anything else, despite its muddy brown color. However, a few weeks ago, my Aunt Grace had thrown me into that moat, and I’d discovered it was inhabited by Water Witches—nasty, malevolent monsters. I’d never be able to look at the moat again without remembering the feeling of being grabbed and dragged under. I don’t think Aunt Grace was actually trying to kill me when she threw me in. She’d hatched some kind of crazy scheme to use my powers to assassinate Titania, the Queen of the Seelie Court, and when her plans were foiled, she threw me in the water as a diversion while she fled into Faerie.

  My dad had great taste in restaurants. The food was fantastic. The conversation … not so much. I knew my parents had loved each other once, but that was a long time ago. Although Dad understood why my mom had kept me secret from him, he couldn’t seem to forgive her for it. And Mom couldn’t forgive Dad for any number of things, not least of which was her enforced sobriety. At this point, they couldn’t agree that the sky was blue, much less agree on anything important, like the current topic of debate.

  Mom wanted me to go to school like a normal girl in the fall. Dad decreed that school was too great a security risk, and that I should be homeschooled. Neither one of them seemed to care what I thought—they didn’t even bother to ask—but I knew that, in the end, my dad’s word would be law. He was my legal guardian, after all. Not that Mom had any intention of conceding the point.

  I tuned them both out, trying to enjoy the meal, the weather, and the view. I kept finding my eyes drawn to the moat, and to the bridge that spanned it, despite the unpleasant memories it dredged up. I kept forcing myself to look away, but my gaze always seemed to return.

  I was once again staring at the moat when I caught sight of someone running away from the gatehouse at a frantic sprint. It was a Fae man, dressed in a green tunic and tights like an extra in a Robin Hood movie. Even from this distance, I could see the terror on the guy’s face, and the blood that streaked his forehead. The sight made me gasp, and others around me must have followed my gaze, because a low murmur started up among the diners on the balcony.

  The Fae was about a third of the way across the bridge, still running headlong, knocking slower pedestrians out of his way, when I finally saw just why he was running. A tall door in the gatehouse flew open, and a nightmare figure burst through.

  He was dressed entirely in black, his face hidden under a grotesque black mask with a leering, fanged mouth and wickedly sharp antlers. His whole body was covered in shiny black armor peppered with vicious spikes. He rode an enormous black horse, also covered with plates of armor. Maybe it was some kind of optical illusion, but I could have sworn I saw the occasional glow of flames bursting from the horse’s nostrils.

  All around me, chairs were scraping back as people leapt to their feet, and the murmur had risen to a loud buzz of alarm. The horseman drew a gleaming sword from a scabbard draped over his back, and the buzz got even louder.

  “Oh no,” I thought I heard my father say, although it was hard to hear him over the steadily rising voices of the other diners.

  Behind the man in black, several more riders emerged from the door—which I belatedly realized must be the entrance to Faerie—each dressed in a slightly toned-down version of their leader’s attire. They fanned out into a V and galloped across the bridge behind him. There were several cars on the bridge, but the Fae riders didn’t seem to care, their horses dodging around them at supernatural speed, or just leaping over them as if they were toys, as brakes squealed and horns blared.

  “The Wild Hunt!” someone shouted.

  “The Erlking…” someone else said, voice cold with dread.

  I was on my feet, clinging to the balcony rail without remembering having stood up. I was aware of my dad calling to me, but I was too riveted by what I was seeing to answer.

  The leader of the horsemen was steadily gaining on the fleeing Fae. Everywhere, people leapt out of his way, and there was no sign that the border patrol was making even a token attempt to stop him or the rest of the riders. The man in black pulled even with the Fae. He rose up high in his stirrups, easily keeping his balance despite his horse’s breakneck speed. Someone screamed as the sword flashed in the sun and began to swing down at the Fae man.

  I didn’t see what happened next, because my mom came at me from behind and slapped her hand over my eyes. But the screams and gasps around me gave me a pretty good idea without having to see with my own two eyes.

  Mom turned me around so my back was to the railing. Dad threw a handful of cash on our table, then grabbed both my mom’s and my arms and began dragging us away.

  “We have to go,” he said urgently, and I can’t tell you how terrifying it was to see the fear in his eyes. As far as I could tell, my dad wasn’t afraid of anything, and if he was, he was a master at not letting it show. What did it mean that I could see the fear in him now?

  People from inside the dining room were pushing their way out onto the balcony to see what was going on. My dad shoved his way through the gathering crowd, using magic of some sort to knock people out of our path. I might have objected to the rough handling, but remembering that black rider with his sword raised made me want to run and hide.

  * * *

  My dad made about a million phone calls as he frog-marched me back to the safe house. Mom walked at my side, her arm around my shoulders. Her face was deathly pale, and her eyes a little too wide.

  “What’s going on?” I asked her as my dad continued with his calls. “Who were those guys?” I really hoped they’d turned around and galloped back into Faerie after they’d … I tried not to think about what had happened.

  My mom shook her head. “That was the Wild Hunt,” she said in a breathless whisper, as if saying the words aloud would somehow make them appear out of thin air.

  I waited for her to explain, but she didn’t. Maybe I was supposed to know off the top of my head what the Wild Hunt was, but there was a lot I didn’t know about Faerie. Mom was born and raised in Avalon, and sometimes she forgot that Avalon wasn’t like other places.

  “What’s the Wild Hunt?” I asked.

  We’d entered the tunnel system to begin the trek back to my safe house, and I guess Dad must have lost his signal, because he finally put his cell phone away.

  “They are the nightmare of Faerie,” he said in a tense, clipped tone. “A pack of horsemen who live only to hunt Fae and mortals alike. Their leader—the Erlking—is the only man the Queens of Faerie are said to fear.”

  “That would be the guy with the sword?” I asked in a small voice.

  Dad dipped his chin in a curt nod. “Yes. All the Huntsmen are dangerous, but none more so than he.”

  I frowned, belatedly hearing the nuances of what my dad had said. “Wait a minute. You said the Queens of Faerie fear him, plural. But he’s Unseelie, right?” All of Faerie is divided into two Courts, each with its own Queen. The Seelie Court had the reputation of being the good guys (though since Aunt Grace was Seelie, it’s obvious the reputation doesn’t always hold true). The Unseelie Court is the Court of monsters and bad guys, but that was a generalization, too. Ethan and Kimber were Unseelie, and they were pretty decent most of the time. The Erlking seemed to fit the Unseelie stereotype to a tee. “If he’s Unseelie, surely the Unseelie Queen isn’t scared of him.”

  “He is neither Seelie nor Unseelie,” my father said. “He is outside the Courts altogether, a power unto himself. He c
onsiders himself a king, although he has no actual kingdom.”

  “And he’s allowed to just ride into Avalon whenever he feels like it and kill people in broad daylight?” I’d seen evidence before that the border between Avalon and Faerie was dangerously porous, but I had at least hoped that it was better defended than that.

  “No. He is not allowed to hunt in Avalon. It’s just that if someone he’s hunting in Faerie comes over the border, he’s allowed to pursue.”

  We were moving so fast I was beginning to be a little short of breath, so I decided to hold my questions for the moment. When we passed out of the populated section of the tunnels and into the lightless path that led to my home, Dad cast some kind of spell that created a ball of light, which hovered over our heads and showed us the way. My neck kept prickling, and I kept looking behind me. Not that I really expected to see the Erlking bearing down on me on his fearsome black horse, but I was completely freaked out. I’d never have admitted it, but I was glad my mom had covered my eyes. I’d already seen enough things here in Avalon that would haunt my sleep. I didn’t need one more.

  When we finally got to the safe house, Dad asked my mom if she would make us all some tea while he and I waited in the guardroom for Finn to arrive. It came out sounding more like an order than a request, but my mom didn’t object.

  The guardroom wasn’t as cozy as the living room in my suite, but there was a reasonably comfortable sitting area. I plopped down heavily on the couch, but my dad was too agitated to sit.

  “Okay,” I said. “What’s the scoop on the Erlking? Why did we have to head for the hills as soon as you saw him? You said he wasn’t allowed to hunt in Avalon.”

  “It’s complicated.”

  I snorted. “Like anything in this place is simple. Come on, Dad. Tell me what’s going on. Don’t I have a right to know?”

  He let out a frustrated sigh, which seemed to release some of his tension. He stared at the floor as he spoke, and his jaw was tight with strain.

  “Once upon a time, the Erlking and his Wild Hunt were the scourge of Faerie. This was a long, long time ago. They would hunt the members of both Courts, slaughtering them at will. Those they didn’t kill were forced to join the Hunt, slaves to the Erlking’s will. Sometimes, the Hunt would ride out into Avalon and wreak havoc among the mortals living here. Mortals who were forced into the Wild Hunt invariably died, their bodies pushed to the breaking point as they tried to keep up the relentless pace of the Hunt.”

  My mom entered the guardroom, carrying a tray with the tea. I was more of a coffee girl myself, but the people of Avalon apparently couldn’t live without their tea. I was learning to tolerate it in the interest of being polite. Mom put the tray on the coffee table, then poured out three cups as my dad continued.

  “Eventually, the Queens of Faerie were able to make a deal with the Erlking, a deal they sealed with magic. The Erlking agreed that he would no longer hunt members of either Court without permission of that Court’s Queen. Ever since, he and his Wild Hunt have been the Faerie Queens’ assassins and executioners. Still a nightmare, but a leashed nightmare.”

  I frowned as I thought that over. “What did the Erlking get out of this agreement?”

  Dad stirred his tea with studied intensity. “He gained the privilege of hunting the Courts’ outcasts.”

  My frown deepened. “But he was hunting them already, right?”

  My dad didn’t answer.

  “I think there was another part of the deal,” my mom said, surprising me. “The Erlking lives for the hunt. It’s part of his elemental nature, and yet he allowed the Queens to put limits on him. He must have gotten some advantage out of it. But it seems that the Fae who are old enough to remember are under a geis not to speak of it.”

  “What’s a geis?”

  “It’s a restriction that’s enforced by magic. The spell was cast by both Queens and binds all the members of their courts. The Fae who are old enough to remember literally can’t talk about it.”

  Dad continued stirring his tea, round and round and round. I looked back and forth between him and Mom.

  “Are you old enough to remember?” I asked my dad.

  He nodded, but said nothing.

  “And you’re not allowed to talk about it?”

  He turned his head and looked at me, but he still didn’t speak. He didn’t even nod or shake his head.

  “It must be a very powerful geis,” my mom said. “They can’t even tap dance around the truth. They just flat out can’t talk about it. They can’t even admit that a geis exists, even though everyone knows it must.”

  “And no one has any idea what they’re hiding?”

  Mom shook her head. “There are lots and lots of theories, but I don’t think any one is more likely than another to be true.”

  I digested all that for a while, frustrated that I couldn’t get the whole story. Obviously, I’d seen more than enough evidence that the Erlking was one scary dude. But I still didn’t get why Dad had reacted as if the guy was a direct threat to me.

  “If the Erlking can’t hunt in Avalon,” I asked my dad, “then what are you so worried about?”

  Dad finally took a sip of his well-stirred tea. “He can’t hunt in Avalon. That doesn’t mean he can’t kill. Or worse. There is a geis on him that prevents him from attacking anyone within the borders of the city—with the exception of people he chases here from Faerie. The geis does not prevent him from defending himself, however, and he’s free to do whatever he wishes to anyone foolish enough to attack him or his Huntsmen.”

  “Still not getting it,” I said. “Who’d be stupid enough to attack him when they know that allows him to kill them?” Certainly not me, which should mean he was no threat to me whatsoever. “Besides, won’t he just go back to Faerie now that his, er, hunt is over?” Once again, I had to fight off the image of that black rider on his black horse raising his sword to kill a helpless, unarmed man.

  “The Erlking has a unique ability to provoke people into acting against their own best interests. And no, I very much doubt he’ll go back to Faerie. Every time he’s pursued someone into Avalon, he’s stayed for at least a few weeks. He even maintains a household here.”

  I shook my head. There were a lot of things about Avalon I liked—if somewhat reluctantly—but the weird-ass details of its treaty with Faerie weren’t among them.

  “Why even let him into the city in the first place?” I asked. “You won’t let Spriggans and other Unseelie monsters cross the border, and he seems way scarier than any of them.”

  Dad’s smile turned wry. “Indeed he is. Which is why the city had to make a deal with him. It was either agree to terms by which he could be allowed to come to Avalon, or go to war against him. Most of the Fae are immortal in that they won’t ever die of natural causes. But as far as anyone can tell, the Erlking is literally immortal. Back in the days when there was open warfare between him and the Courts, a Seelie Knight actually managed to behead him in battle. The Erlking picked up his head, put it back on his neck, and killed the Knight. It behooves the people of Avalon not to make an enemy of a man who cannot be killed.”

  I saw the sense in it, but I couldn’t say I liked it. It seemed to me that there had to be a better solution. Never mind that I couldn’t imagine what it was. I guessed that considering how powerful the Erlking was, we were lucky he’d allowed any limitations to be imposed on him at all.

  What the hell had the Faerie Queens given him to persuade him to stop hunting their people? Whatever it was, it had to be huge. And I very much doubted it was anything good.

  Dad put his teacup down and turned to face me on the sofa. He didn’t have the most expressive face in the world, but I got an immediate “uh-oh” feeling even before he opened his mouth. My hand tightened on my own teacup, and I held my breath.

  “It’s not impossible that one or both of the Queens may have sent the Erlking here to assassinate you,” my father told me, and the bottom of my stomach dropped out.
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br />   Okay, I already knew the Queens wanted me dead. I mean, Titania, the Seelie Queen, whose Court I was technically affiliated with—I refused to say I belonged to it—would have been satisfied if I’d left Avalon never to return. But because Mab, the Unseelie Queen, would hunt me to the end of my days whether I stayed or left, my dad had decreed I was better off staying. They worried that my powers as a Faeriewalker—like, say, my ability to carry a working gun into Faerie—made me a danger to their thrones. Considering my aunt Grace had wanted to use me to assassinate Titania and usurp her throne, the Queens weren’t just being paranoid.

  But even knowing the Queens wanted me dead, it was still a shock to hear that they might have sent that terrifying immortal creature—and his pack of Huntsmen—after me. I was just a kid, for God’s sake! It was like using a cannon to kill a fly.

  Unfortunately, Dad wasn’t finished. “I know this will be an … inconvenience, but I think it’s best for all concerned if you remain in your safe house for the duration of the Erlking’s stay.”

  “No!” The word was out before I had a chance to think or in any way tone down my reaction. I shot to my feet and put some distance between my dad and myself.

  “Seamus,” my mom said tentatively, “maybe we should…” Her voice trailed off at the cold look he gave her. It was beginning to seem like what backbone she had was fueled by alcohol. Right at that moment, I wished I had the stubborn drunk back.

  I shook my head and folded my arms across my chest. “No way are you keeping me trapped down here for however long the Erlking decides to hang around!” I managed to keep myself from shouting, but just barely.

  “It’s for your own safety,” he said, trying the same cold stare on me that he’d just used on my mom.

  My will has always been stronger than hers, and it would take more than a look to make me back down. “No way!” I repeated. “You said yourself that he can’t attack people unless they attack him first. If you think I’m going to attack that guy, you’re nuts. He can’t hurt me, and you can’t lock me up in this dungeon like a prisoner.”