Hunger Pangs

by Joy Demorra

  Nathan frowned. “Isn’t that where the fae steal someone away? Trick them into loving them and drain them of their youth?”

  Ursula laughed shortly. “I’m sure it felt that way to some of them. But no, we do not drain their youth. We extend it. Usually only for a couple of decades. But I struck my own bargain with the Fates.”

  “What sort of bargain?” Nathan asked curiously.

  For a moment, Ursula looked like she might answer, but then she shook her head. “It’s not important. I’m able to bind myself to the mortal realm. That’s all that matters. So, you see, when I say I am Alfbern Brandr’s ward, I am technically telling the truth. I am his ward against mortality, as he is mine.”

  Technically, Nathan thought. It always came down to technicalities with fae, at least that’s what the stories said. He frowned as another stray thought tugged at his brain. Holding his fingers up, he tried to count the number of Alfbern Brandrs he could remember seeing in the latest book Ivar had given him to read. He tallied four on his fingertips. He wondered if Ivar had been trying to tell him something. “Alfbern’s ancient, isn’t he?”

  Ursula nodded. “I’ve been with him the longest.”

  “How long?”

  The Sìdhe seemed lost in thought. “Eight hundred years. Give or take a few decades.”

  “Eight hundred years?” Nathan put his head in his hands. For some reason, this was the thing that broke him. Not even vampires lived that long… At least, he didn’t think so. Something niggled at the back of his mind, but he couldn’t focus on it right now.

  The sudden thought of Vlad outliving him by several centuries made his heart clench. He didn’t like the thought of that at all, so he pushed the feeling down, focusing on the immediate panic attack instead. He was sitting alone in a magical forest, with the only fae left in existence, talking about the ancient past as though it had happened only yesterday.

  This was fine. This was all fine.

  “So why are you and your eight-hundred-year-old werebear husband here?”

  “He’s not my husband,” Ursula corrected. “He’s my friend. And we came here hoping to find a living Ancestral Tree. Yours is the first I’ve found in almost a year. Even if it was succumbing to the sickness…”

  Nathan stopped breathing. “Ancestral Trees can die?”

  “Anything that lives can die.” Ursula sounded unreasonably calm about the whole thing. “One day even the stars will fall and burn to dust. But don’t worry, we’re not there yet.”

  Nathan ignored that last part. There was only so much existential dread he could handle. Vaguely, he wondered if this was how Vlad felt all the time.

  “Wait…” Nathan felt himself grow pale; a dizzying wave of nausea washed over him. “You said this was the first one you’d found alive. How many are dead?”

  Ursula turned away, seemingly unable to look him in the eye. “Twelve.”

  “Out of how many?”

  She shrugged and wrapped her arms around herself. “Seventeen.”

  Nathan blinked at her. The urge to scream and shout was strong, but he swallowed it down. “I see.” He cleared his throat. “So, what you’re telling me is that over half the magical trees we rely on to keep the world alive, and also keep the mad necromancer God at bay, are dead. Just, out of curiosity, this wouldn’t have anything to do with the blights and famine spreading out of Obëria, would it?”

  Ursula bit her lip until the skin turned white. “I can still fix this,” she insisted. “I can bring the forests back. All I need is cuttings from a healthy tree. It will take time, but I can replant them. They can regrow.” She sounded more desperate than certain.

  Nathan shook his head. “But you don’t know what’s making them sick?”

  “I… it’s whatever that black stuff is.” Ursula’s shoulders drooped. “I’ve found it everywhere I’ve gone. I’m not sure what it is. Some sort of… demonic fungus, perhaps.” She wrinkled her nose. “It makes the trees stink of rotten flesh when they start to decay.”

  Inhaling quickly, Nathan reaffirmed that all he could smell was the earthy scent of the forest. That, and the Sìdhe sitting beside him. Now that he knew what to look for, he could smell the magic trickling off of her even under the sweet perfume she wore. It made his eyes water, and he sneezed.

  “Bless you.”

  “Ugh, thank you. Well, can’t you just do what you did here?” He gestured expansively with his hands. “Go fwoosh and scare the living daylights out of it. Or whatever the hell you did.”

  She looked like she wanted to laugh, but her smile fell apart before it was even fully formed. “No. Whatever it is, it feeds on magic. The first time I found it, it had devoured the heart of the Oakshield tree. It almost killed me. This is the first time it’s been weak enough for me to fight it and keep the tree alive. But I have no guarantee it won’t come back. Not without knowing what’s causing it.”

  Nathan nodded. “All right then, what do we do?”

  “We?”

  A burble of hysterical laughter escaped his lungs. “You’ve just told me the world as we know it is about to die, and you don’t think I’m going to offer to help? Fuck that. I live here. The people I love live here.” He jabbed a finger emphatically at the ground. “If you tell me what to do, I’ll do it. Whatever you need.”

  Her golden eyes creased in a weary expression of gratitude. “I appreciate that. Truly. But…” She slumped back against the trunk of the tree in defeat. “I’ve tried everything I know. So, unless you know someone who’s an expert in rare, magical, and possibly demonic plants, I’m afraid we’re stuck.”

  Reflexively, Nathan opened his mouth to argue that there must be something else they could do, then paused.

  “Well… actually…”

  CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT

  “A vampire!” Alfbern bellowed, punctuating his words with his hands. Nathan sighed, glad that the stone walls of Lorehaven were as thick as they were. The werebear could have woken the dead with his blustering. “You want to leave the sanctuary of this forest and go visit a bloodthirsty vampire?!”

  Nathan held up a finger. “Actually, he mostly abstains—”

  Rounding on him, the werebear jabbed an angry finger at him. “You! Be quiet. You’ve already done too much.”

  “Alfie, be nice.” Ursula tapped her foot on the flagstones. They’d retreated to her chambers after their return from the forest. Alfbern had been waiting for them. Or rather, her. He hadn’t been pleased to see Nathan.

  The bear growled, taking a step forward. Folding his arms over his chest, Nathan lifted his chin. He understood that the other man was upset. He even understood why, but he wasn’t about to let the werebear intimidate him in his own home. “You’d think after eight hundred years you’d have taught him some manners.”

  “You insolent pup.”

  “Alfbern,” Ursula snapped as she planted herself squarely between them. She rattled off what sounded like a fairly severe warning in a language Nathan didn’t understand, but it seemed to have the desired effect because the other man finally lowered his gaze. “Enough. Please,” she pleaded, switching back to Imperial without so much as a pause. “This subject is not up for discussion. I am going, and you cannot stop me.”

  “You are my ward!” Alfbern thumped his hands against his sizable chest. “You are my responsibility. I cannot just let you wander off on your own.”

  “But I won’t be on my own,” Ursula countered. “I’ll be with Nathan.”

  The bear rounded on him again, and this time Nathan did take a step back. “Him? Little Bear, look at him! He’s crippled! His own family sent him away to an island full of vampires to be rid of him.”

  “My family didn’t send me anywhere,” Nathan ground out. “I went to Eyrie of my own volition. And I like it there.”

  Snorting, Alfbern motioned incredulously at him with an open palm. “That’s worse; it makes you a simpleton as well. Ursula, please, see sense. We’ll find another way—”

&nbs
p; “And what if we don’t?” Ursula asked, folding her arms under her chest as she stared him down. “What if all the trees die, and I spend what’s left of my life on this earth without you, wondering if this might have helped? Would you have me risk the entire world, Old Bear? The whole world, for your stubborn pride?”

  “Not pride! Worry! These are the very creatures we have spent lifetimes keeping you hidden from. What if they find you out, what if—”

  “Vlad would never hurt Ursula,” Nathan interjected. “He’d never willingly hurt anyone. It’s not in his nature. And besides, we’re not going to Eyrie. We’re going to Ingleton.”

  “Ingleton? That southern cesspit…” Alfbern grumbled. “Why there?”

  “Because that’s where he’ll be,” Nathan explained patiently. “He’s his father’s steward, and he’ll be there for the reopening of Parliament. He’s expecting me to report to him there.”

  Which was a roundabout way of saying they’d agreed to meet in the city again before returning home to Eyrie together. It made his stomach clench, to think of bringing this world-ending bombshell into… whatever it was they had together. But he was certain Vlad would help them, if not for Nathan, then certainly for sheer curiosity’s sake. He was like the cat that satisfaction had brought back, just undead and only slightly less prone to knocking things off of flat surfaces to get attention.

  “He cannot know the truth,” Alfbern warned.

  Nathan felt his stomach twist even tighter.

  “He need not know the truth.” Ursula countered as she stepped around the other man to retrieve what appeared to be her one good dress from where it hung on the wall. She flared it out over the bed before rolling it up into her meager pack roll. “I just need him to identify what the black stuff is and tell me how to deal with it. We don’t need to mention anything else.”

  “And how do you plan to do that?” Alfbern asked.

  Ursula nodded, and Nathan reached into his pocket, pulling out the folded-up napkin he’d used to wrap her breakfast in. He pulled back the folds to reveal a sample of the needles and berries he’d scraped from the ground with his pocket knife. The berries oozed a sickly smell like festering meat, and Alfbern wrinkled his nose.

  “Here, let’s get them sealed away,” Ursula said, procuring an empty glass jar and handing it to Nathan.

  He set it down on the table and pulled out his knife again. Once the sample was sitting safely at the bottom of the jar, he sealed it tight. Nathan eyed his blade for a moment, noting where the slimy substance had already pitted the metal. He’d probably be better off throwing it in the blacksmith’s forge than trying to salvage it. Pity. It had been a good knife.

  “I still do not like this,” Alfbern muttered, but he was starting to sound more resigned than enraged. “And I do not see why you cannot let me come.”

  “What’s more suspicious?” Ursula asked, “the Bear Lord and his ward running off to Ingleton for a few days, then returning North in a hurry, demanding access to their grove? Or his flighty, pretty ward running off with one of their sons for a few days before returning without him?”

  “So, you intend to play the whore and let them think ill of you?” Alfbern asked as he sank into the one vacant chair in the room.

  Snorting, Ursula wrinkled her nose. “If they think ill of me for spending time with their son, I’m not sure I’d want them to think well of me anyway.”

  Nathan rolled his eyes. “I don’t see why we even need to let them think that at all.” But they would, Nathan realized. Especially Miles, who’d leered at their disheveled appearance when he’d spied them sneaking back through the castle gates. But no one would say anything, save his mother, who might hopefully inquire what Lady Ursula thought about children, and possibly how she felt about summer weddings.

  “What do you mean?” Ursula asked.

  “I mean, you’re supposedly training to be a Sister, correct? There must be lots of learning involved in that. Why don’t we just tell them you heard about an exhibit you want to see in Ingleton? There’s always something going on down there.”

  “And you offered to take me, seeing as how you’re already going that way.” She tapped her lower lip with her thumb. “That might work. If you’d prefer me not to sully your good reputation,” she said with an impish smile.

  Nathan flashed her a lopsided grin of his own. “Trust me, I ruined that myself a long time ago.”

  “Interesting, you must tell me how.”

  Alfbern made a low warning sound in his chest, and Nathan wiped the smile from his face. “And just how do you plan to get there?” the other man wanted to know. “And how do you plan to get back? It’s a two-day journey either way, at least.”

  “Not if we take the new train lines. Those only take eight hours each way.” Nathan didn’t mention that he’d yet to try using them himself.

  “See?” Ursula said as she gave the bear a reassuring pat on the arm. “I can be there and back in a full day, if we’re lucky.”

  “If,” Alfbern repeated, holding up a finger. “If you are lucky. And our luck has not been good.”

  “On the contrary, I think we’ve been very lucky since we got here. We found a living Ancestral Tree. It was sick, but not so sick that I couldn’t save it. We’ve met Nathan, and we know him to be a good, honorable sort—”

  “Do we?” Alfbern muttered.

  Ursula ignored him as she continued to tick off the good things on her fingers. “And he knows a vampire who grows weird, magical plants in his spare time. Personally, I’d say things are looking up.”

  “And what do you expect me to do in your absence?” Alfbern grumbled. “Twiddle my thumbs and sip tea?”

  Smiling sweetly at him, she patted his arm again. “If you’d like.”

  Alfbern snorted at her, the mustache of his thick beard bristling with annoyance. “Don’t forget, you still have to bind his tongue.” He jerked his head irritably toward Nathan.

  The werewolf felt a sudden chill go down his spine. “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to just take my word?”

  With an apologetic twist of her lips, Ursula said, “Would that I could. But it’s safer this way. You can’t accidentally give anything away if you’re bound. So, Nathaniel James Northland, what boon would you ask in exchange for your silence?” She held her hand out, a faint magical glow evident at her fingertips.

  Nathan bowed his head in thought. There were many things he could ask for. But only one truly mattered. He reached out, letting the magic envelop his hand, and said, “I want to help you save the world.”

  Startled, her fingers twitched against his. “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.”

  She appeared unfathomably old and surprised all at once. “Deal.”

  Nathan’s hand tingled like the afterglow of a lovely evening or the warmth of a cheery fire in winter. It was surprising. As it turned out, being bound to an ancient fae wasn’t as unpleasant as he’d thought it would be.

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  “I just don’t see why you have to go so soon,” Nathan’s mother fretted as she twisted her hanky between both hands. “We only just got you back.”

  “I’ve been here almost two weeks, Ma,” Nathan said, leaning down to press a kiss to her cheek. “But I’ll be home again soon. I promise.”

  “I think it’s very sweet, offering to take Lady Ursula to the Winter Exhibit like that,” his sister Elayne said, prompting Gwen to giggle into her teacup. “You must have had quite the walk through the woods yesterday.”

  “Oh please, I’m only being kind.” Nathan rolled his eyes. He’d barely gotten to spend any time with his huge family, and he’d missed the hunt yesterday. But, he supposed, there would always be next year.

  Provided there was still a world left next year.

  He smiled, leaning down to give his niblings some love. “Be good. And take care of each other. That goes for you too,” he said as he leaned in to give first Gwen then Elayne affectionate nudges. “Look
after each other. And take care of Ma.”

  “We always do,” Gwen said.

  A loud cough came from behind them, and Nathan winced. “Better add Da to that list too. I swear I’ve never known him to catch a cold like this before.”

  “Ach, he’s fine.” Elayne waved her hand dismissively. “If you ask me, it’s that rotten pipe he smokes more than anything else.”

  “What’s that?” Nathan’s father barked, still sounding out of breath as he approached. “What are we all whispering about?”

  “Nothing, Da,” the two women chorused sweetly.

  Nathan’s father eyed them skeptically. “Huh. A likely story. You’re off again so soon, Nathan my boy. Don’t forget your duties to the clan while you’re away.”

  “Da,” Nathan said, surprised when his father wrapped him up in a staggering bearhug.

  “You stay safe on that island,” he murmured as he gave Nathan a hearty thump on the back. “And keep getting better.”

  “I will, Da.”

  “And remember what we talked about.”

  Nathan withdrew from the hug. “I remember.”

  “No matter what you hear, how big or small, I want to know. The politics of vampires are intricate. And anything could be a warning sign. Understand?”

  “I know, I know.” Nathan sighed. “I’ll send a letter if I hear anything else.”

  Not that Nathan had decided if he actually would. The thought of spying on the Count through Vlad made him sick to his stomach.

  “Be sure you do. Now, go find your uncle. He wants a word before you leave. He’s out in the courtyard.”

  With one last parting wave and a hug from his mother, Nathan slung his kitbag over his shoulder and stepped out of the great hall. To his surprise, Miles was there lingering in the doorway, a mug of something hot steaming gently in his hand.