by K. J. Sutton
Just as I had with his mother, I stayed. Time passed in our small corner of the world, and I didn’t look once at the alarm clock or out the window. My mind rewound and played back everything that had happened since the sun set. It lingered on the part with Úna.
“I saved myself tonight,” I told Collith quietly, skimming his forehead with the back of my wrist. His skin was slightly cooler, and I let out a breath of relief. “That’s how I know you can do it, too.”
Collith didn’t reply, but that was all right. Conversation wasn’t why I was here.
For the rest of the night, I stayed. Through every shudder and bad dream, I stayed. I stayed until Collith’s demons knew he wasn’t fighting this battle on his own.
I stayed until the dark wasn’t quite as dark anymore.
Chapter Twelve
Morning crept over the horizon.
I was already awake and waiting for it. My blankets and sheets were tangled and damp from my restless night. The moment the alarm clock on the nightstand went off, I threw them all aside. I didn’t work at Bea’s today—she’d been scheduling me less since my very public breakdown—but I had other ways to pass the time. Other ways to keep my mind occupied. I pulled a clean set of workout clothes from the dresser and put everything on as if I were late.
In the hallway, I discovered that Finn’s bedroom door was closed. He wasn’t in front of mine, which meant he’d probably changed forms and was sleeping it off. If Lyari found out I wasn’t being guarded, she’d be furious. Guess it’s a good thing Lyari won’t find out, then. The thought of more time alone was too tempting to resist. I tried to avoid the creaky spots in the floor as I made my way outside.
The air was strange when I stepped into the open. Charged. It wasn’t snowing, but it felt like the wind carried bits of glass on it, hurting every part of my exposed skin. Even this wouldn’t deter me from a run. I jogged down the steps, and the instant I reached the bottom, I saw them. My eyes widened and I froze, partly in terror, partly in awe.
The Wild Hunt was airborne. The riders and steeds ran through the gray expanse above, manes flying and weapons gleaming. Where there should’ve been the sound of pounding hooves, there was only the wind, whispering ancient secrets in my ear. They looked so free, so limitless. They didn’t think about things like paying bills or sitting on thrones. No one could hurt them. No one could touch them—not even faeries or demons. My heart ached at the thought, and suddenly I pictured myself among them, my smiling face turned toward the horizon, seeking sunlight and warmth. Our whoops filled the air and so did we. Simple rules like gravity meant nothing. I held the reins tightly, my knuckles sharp and white, as though I’d never let go.
Something moved in the corner of my eye, and the daydream vanished. Gwyn. Thinking she was trying to get the jump on me, I recoiled, a cry rising to my lips. But the faerie wasn’t even looking at me. She directed her gaze toward the sky, just as I had, and made no attempt to close the distance between us. I didn’t relax, though. Not for a second. “Lovely, are they not?” she asked in a conversational tone. A strand of golden hair blew across her lips.
“Yes,” I said, looking at the riders again. “But still not worth the price.”
I wasn’t sure how she would react—apprehension fluttered through my stomach as I said the words—but Gwyn just kept her gaze on the rousing horizon and smiled. There was something bittersweet about her expression.
“There are days I agree with you,” she replied. “When I asked the witches to perform the spell that made me what I am, none of us knew what the side effects would be. Nature always finds a balance, of course. I knew that, and I was prepared for the consequences. I thought becoming the ultimate huntress would lead me to Creiddylad. Alas, it didn’t work.”
The riders began their descent. As the horses hit the ground, many of them snorting with obvious displeasure, I faced Gwyn again. A sound like thunder rumbled through the yard. “Do you tell all your quarries this?” I asked. Though my insides quaked, there was no waver in my voice. Thank God for small favors.
Gwyn met my gaze. Her eyes were lined in kohl, which made the blue of her irises look brighter. “No.”
It suddenly occurred to me that the riders’ landing may have woken my family. I cast a furtive glance toward the house, searching for any lights—I didn’t want them to see Gwyn or her dark followers. That would lead to questions, which I would have no answers to. The tight sensation in my chest eased when I saw only darkened windows staring back.
“Have you begun preparing them?” Gwyn asked, probably noticing how my attention had wandered, even if was just for a moment. Something told me there was very little she didn’t see.
Anger, hot and unexpected, flowed through my veins. I gave Gwyn a bitter smile. “And how do you suggest I do that? How, exactly, does a person ‘prepare’ her family for her upcoming murder?”
The faerie smiled, too, but there was nostalgia in the way her lips curved. “You’re so young. Speaking to you makes me remember. How long it’s been since I’ve cared about dying.”
“I’d be glad to put you out of your misery,” I offered without thinking.
Gwyn appraised me. “You truly mean that. If I asked, you’d cut me down, right here and now.”
It was my first instinct to deny it… but then my mind flashed to Ayduin. I saw his eyes widening, pictured the knife jutting from his body. My grip on it had been so firm, so unapologetic. I remembered how steam had risen between us as his body reacted to the holy water.
“It’s not like I go on killing sprees,” I snapped. It was easy to forget my fear of Gwyn in the face of this new worry—that she and I shared something in common. “I just rid the world of assholes, if a prime opportunity happens to present itself.”
The huntress smirked, and I knew she didn’t believe me. Her next words confirmed it. “There’s a darkness in you, Fortuna Sworn. ’Tis a pity I have to end your life. It would’ve been so entertaining to see how much that evolves.”
“Fine,” I said with a shrug, trying to hide my pang of fear. “If you’re going to kill me, the very least you could do is reveal who sent you.”
“That’s not how this works, my lovely queen. What would you give for that information?”
An incredulous laugh stuck in my throat. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. Fool me three times, and you might as well just remove my head right now, I thought. The day I made another bargain with a faerie was the day God sent a messenger to let the Fallen know all was forgiven, and we could come home.
My hands clenched into fists, and because my arms were folded, the movement was obvious. I knew I was showing too much emotion and playing right into Gwyn’s hands. If Lyari were here, she’d be glaring daggers at me.
“Should we just get this over with?” I asked, willing my eyes to be as cold as I felt, standing there in the early morning.
“I am not here to kill you. At least not yet,” Gwyn added, almost like an afterthought. “I thought a demonstration was in order.”
Dread felt like a heavy stone in my stomach. “A demonstration of what?”
Rather than responding, Gwyn turned away from me. One of her followers seemed to interpret this as a signal of some kind, and the cluster of horses and riders shifted. After a moment, a tall figure emerged. He was one of the loveliest faeries I’d ever seen, his pale skin a stark contrast against his dark hair. I had to force my gaze away from his face to take note of the rope he was holding. When I followed the length of that rope and saw what was at the end of it, the dread in my stomach changed to panic.
“Your Majesty, I’d like you to meet Mizuki of the bloodline Ito. She is a courtier of the Seelie Court,” Gwyn said. Her eyes gleamed with undeniable anticipation.
When I saw that, it felt like the ground dropped out from beneath me. I was weak. I couldn’t save anyone. But something told me Gwyn’s demonstration would make me want to try anyway.
A moment later, the dark-haired faerie threw th
e female—Mizuki—at my feet. I only knew she was female because of the ragged remains of her gown and the long, dark hair that rested on her shoulders in snarls and knots. Her face was unrecognizable. Not because I had never met her before, but because it was a mass of bruises, cuts, and swollen skin. Both of her eyes were so damaged they couldn’t open.
The Hunt didn’t always ride through the sky, because it was obvious they’d dragged her behind the horses all night. Not even her accelerated healing had been able to keep up.
“What was her crime?” I asked tightly, unable to tear my eyes away from Mizuki. She didn’t have enough strength to lift her head, and her breath came in faint rattles. Unless a healer was summoned, she wouldn’t live much longer. Her body had endured too much during the long night.
Gwyn lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Angering the wrong person, I suppose. Someone who could afford my fee.”
“So you’re not a huntress,” I said, desperately trying to think of how to help Mizuki. The sight of her reminded me too much of myself, bleeding in that dungeon, surrounded by endless darkness and pain. I lifted my chin and glared at Gwyn. “You’re just a mercenary.”
The faerie made a soft sound, something partway between a sigh or laughter. She lowered her chin to her chest, wearing a thoughtful expression now, and began to walk. She was circling us, I realized, like a predator toying with its prey. I waited for Gwyn to speak, but she remained silent. Probably waiting for one of us to break or bargain with her. Losing my patience, I bent down to take Mizuki’s hand.
“Don’t,” the dark-haired faerie said, his voice sharp with warning. I paused, and I hated myself for it. A month ago, I would’ve completely ignored him and helped Mizuki to her feet. Now I watched my fingers curl into a fist, and I straightened. Mizuki didn’t see any of it—her face was pressed to the frozen ground, not out of relief or submission, but the inability to hold herself up. A trickle of blood ran into the snow. I caught myself staring at it and wondering if there was someone hoping for her safe return, at this very moment.
Gwyn stopped at my back. I felt her presence like a child senses a monster in the closet, watching from the deep black, its malicious intent filling the air. More than anything, I wished I were young again just so I could call for my parents. Fear swelled in my throat. Even now, my mind worked desperately to think of something I could offer or trade for Mizuki’s freedom. But how could I save her when I couldn’t even save myself?
“Would you like to know what they always ask for? The ones I hunt?” Gwyn whispered in my ear. Her breath swirled through the dawn. Apparently it was a rhetorical question, because she didn’t give me a chance to respond. “They beg for more time.”
She stepped back and I heard the unmistakeable sound a sword being unsheathed. Gwyn’s armor creaked as she moved to stand over the faerie still bleeding into the snow. For one of the few times in my life, I didn’t know what to do. Horror and helplessness rendered me unable to move, unable to speak. Every instinct in my body screamed to look away, but I couldn’t. Even now, as Gwyn put herself into an executioner’s position, I tried to think of how to stop this. Please, God, no more death. No more blood on my hands.
Despite Gwyn’s words, Mizuki didn’t beg. Instead, she tried to stand. Her legs gave out before she could fully push herself up, and she made a small sound of pain. I started forward, thinking to lend her my strength, but the dark-haired faerie touched the hilt of his sword in a silent warning. Fury burned through me, and I imagined drawing the gun I hadn’t brought and shooting him in the face.
“For whatever it’s worth, I commend you for facing your death honorably,” Gwyn said to the faerie at her feet. There was no regret or reluctance in her expression—only mild interest, like a great cat peering down at the animal pinned beneath its paw.
I looked away as she brought her sword down.
Either her sword was sharper than it looked, or the huntress was incredibly strong, because it only took one blow. A jarring, wet sound burst through the stillness. I didn’t see Mizuki’s head hit the ground, but I saw a spray of blood stain the snow around my shoes. My stomach heaved, and I knew I was moments from vomiting. I spun and stumbled away. There was a prickly sensation in my throat and an acrid taste on my tongue. I stood very, very still, eyes squeezed shut, and willed the nausea to pass. That terrible sound echoed through my memory again and again.
Weak, a cruel voice whispered. You’re so weak.
I could feel all those eyes boring into my back. Ancient. Cold. Judging. I took a brief, shuddering breath before I turned toward Gwyn, being careful to keep my gaze on her face. She looked back at me… and grinned. Her straight, white teeth glowed in the sunlight pouring over the trees. In that moment, I wanted nothing more than to tear through her mind and locate the fears she kept so well-hidden. I wanted to see the huntress on her knees, tears streaming down her face, begging me for more time. While I glared at her, another hunter came forward and handed Gwyn a rag. She used it to clean her sword.
“What was the point of all this? Is more time a possibility?” I rasped as she drew near again. The dark-haired faerie moved to retrieve Mizuki’s head, but I didn’t so much as glance in his direction. My mind didn’t need more fodder for bad dreams, and Oliver had enough to worry about these days—he couldn’t handle yet another nightmare to keep out of the dreamscape.
“Perhaps,” Gwyn said, halting once she was close enough to touch. She smelled like a campfire.
I found the courage to raise my face. At this proximity, her perfection was only more prominent. Her features weren’t dainty, like Lyari’s, but the strong lines and startling colors only lended an ethereal quality to her ferocity.
“Nothing comes free with the fae,” I said. Surprisingly, my voice was steady. “What do you want in exchange for not killing me right now?”
Gwyn tilted her head, pretending to consider this. Her tone was speculative as she answered, “You are Queen of the Unseelie Court—you have access to the old ones. The heads of the bloodlines. Command them to divulge where they hid Creiddylad, then come here in three nights’ time and tell me what they said. I can’t call off the Hunt, but I can delay it. You could have years to live, instead of days.”
Silence wrapped around us. Faeries were excellent liars, but their large, vibrant eyes usually gave something away. I searched hers while I thought about her proposal. “This isn’t something you’ve just thought up. This is the reason you haven’t killed me yet.”
She didn’t confirm or deny it. “Do we have an agreement, dragon slayer?”
“Don’t call me that.”
The faerie clicked her tongue. “You’re so concerned with names and labels. Haven’t you figured out yet what truly matters?”
Another rhetorical question, because she was still waiting for an answer to her proposition. Making bargains with the fae never ended well for me, and for once, I didn’t say the first thing that popped into my mind. “Look, I need some time to—”
“No,” Gwyn said, shaking her head. “I’m not interested in letting you stall or delay. As the humans say, it’s now or never, my lovely queen. And I’ll do the honorable thing by telling you that there’s no need for silly blood oaths or magical ceremonies—a promise made to me in any form is binding.”
I didn’t want to admit it, but her demonstration had affected me. Facing death was one thing; knowing exactly how it would be done was another. I couldn’t resist a glance toward the spot where Mizuki died. There was a bloody stain on the snow, the blue already turning black. Someone must have come and taken her body, because it was no longer there.
“Fine,” I said, forcing myself to meet Gwyn’s piercing gaze. “We have an agreement.”
“Excellent. I shall return in three days’ time.” Her expression didn’t change, but I still felt like I’d just made a terrible mistake. Gwyn swung away, and she walked over the bloody spot in the snow without slowing. She bellowed into the stillness. “Hunters! We ride!”
; She leapt into an empty saddle with effortless grace. Her horse tossed its head and the air erupted with more thunder, cries, and snorts. Within seconds, the Wild Hunt ascended into the sky. They made it look effortless. I stood there as they vanished into the horizon like a flock of strange birds.
The silence returned, settling over the yard like a fog. I shook myself, trying not to think about the ramifications of what I’d just done, and turned my back on that bloody spot in the snow. Remembering how furious Lyari had been the last time I delayed telling her something about Gwyn, I pulled out my phone and typed a brief text. If she was at Court, she wouldn’t see it until she returned aboveground. Made a deal with Gwyn. We need to find Creiddylad. Explain more later.
Right now, though, I needed to find Collith. It seemed likely that, out of anyone, the Unseelie King would know where Creiddylad was. Pocketing my phone, I turned around and hurried up the steps.
It started ringing at the same moment I reached for the doorknob. I pulled my phone back out, knowing whose name I’d see on the Caller ID before I looked at the screen. “Good morning,” I said, bracing myself for a lecture.
“Nuvian branded two Guardians this morning,” Lyari said instantly.
I frowned, turning away from the door in case anyone could hear me. “Why the hell would Nuvian brand anyone?”
There was an impatient sound on the other end. “It’s like a human solider getting a dishonorable discharge. Nuvian brands a Guardian with the Enochian symbol for shame, and they are a Guardian no more. They will carry that shame with them for the rest of their immortal life. All Nuvian would tell us was that they committed treason and Úna is banished. Now he’s in such a foul mood he won’t talk to anyone. What the hell happened last night? Where are you?”
