Cry Werewolf (Godhunter Book 20)

by Amy Sumida

  Earth fey crammed up around the edges of an oval courtyard of packed earth, wooden barricades barely managing to keep them separated from the men within the fighting area. Excuse me, men and woman. Among the candidates for the Earth throne was a female earth-sidhe, looking absolutely stunning in her leather armor, which was shaped to hint at the slim body beneath. She warmed up with the rest of the hopefuls, stretching her shoulders and rotating her limbs, but she was one of several faeries who weren't waving some kind of weapon about. Interesting.

  The brownie led us along the edges of the crowd, faeries nodding respectfully to us as we went. The was a festive feeling, strengthened by the scent of pastries and wine. Everyone was dressed in their finest, adorned with enough jewelry to fund a small nation. Bards strummed their instruments, practicing their fill-in-the-blank ballads in the hopes that theirs would be the song to forever remind the earth fey of this momentous day.

  We reached a set of stone steps which led us to the royal viewing veranda. It had all the luxuries you'd find on a royal dais with the addition of several sets of thrones. The first set we came to was taken by the King and Queen of Darkness... and their twin babies.

  King Rowan proudly held their son while Queen Liatris cradled their daughter. Darkness was the newest faerie kingdom, inhabited by the dark fey, and both were aptly named. The dark faeries had been formed from the element of Darkness. The dark-sidhe especially mirrored that fact. True black skin and hair like polished onyx. They all possessed those traits, and they all had some shade of blue eyes. Rowan's was deep cerulean while Lia's was tinted with lavender. Their twins though, had left the blue behind. Their eyes were fully lavender, and practically glowed amid the darkness of their skin.

  “Vervain,” Lia stood to hug me.

  It was strange to look at Liatris now. I had helped Faerie create these sidhe, allowing the Consciousness of the Faerie Realm to use my body to perform magic. We'd shaped the element of Darkness into these new fey, and somehow, a little piece of me had gone into them. That piece was most evident in Lia. She was a mirror image of me, the only difference being her coloring.

  “It's good to see you,” I said while I reached over to stroke the soft halo of hair on Sienna's head. “She's getting big.”

  “Isn't she?” Lia laughed and hefted the baby further up her hip. Sienna giggled and smacked her mother's chest. “Big and aggressive.”

  “Aggression is natural,” Rowan said as he joined us. “Don't you think, King Arach?”

  “Absolutely,” Arach shook Rowan's hand. “Your son looks sturdy.”

  “My thanks,” Rowan was immensely pleased. “Your boys look strong as well.”

  “Thank you,” Arach beamed. “Did you hear of Brevyn's third soul?”

  “Yes, congratulations on another dragon-sidhe son!” Rowan patted Arach on the back.

  “If you two are done posturing like peacocks,” I shared an eye roll with Lia, “maybe we could move on to our seats?”

  “Of course, Queen Vervain,” Rowan bowed, but caught my hand as I passed, and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it. “It's always a pleasure to see you.”

  “You too, King Rowan,” I smiled down at Prince Baidhen, “and he's beautiful. Just gorgeous.”

  “Thank you,” Rowan's free hand went to his wife, and the family took their seats together.

  I was relieved to see the Dark Royals so happy. It had been touch-and-go for awhile there, and when dark faeries get upset, things could get tense. But they had conquered the dark magic within them and were settling into their kingdom nicely. Rowan and Lia had especially made great changes, using the essence I had passed to them to become the first dark dragons in existence.

  My own dragon family continued across the silk carpets to greet the other royals in attendance. Our entourage, consisting of a red-cap unit and our carriage phookas, had moved to one side of the platform to stand with the other attendants. Isleen came with us though, and took her place behind our thrones, in case we needed her help with the children. The baskets were placed back there with her, but Dexter wouldn't stay hidden. He trotted out front, and laid across my feet. The Royal Foot Warmer.

  “It's lovely to see you again, Isleen,” Lugh said from my left.

  We were nearly at the end of the veranda. Guirmean and Nora, the Water Royals, sat to Arach's right, with Guirmean's son, Morgan. The High Family sat to my left, beside the pair of empty thrones for the soon-to-be Earth Royals. Then the Air Royals were to the left of the earth thrones, and finally, the Dark Royals. All of the monarchs looked at Lugh in surprise when he spoke to my chatelaine. It wasn't like he'd acknowledged her before royalty, we had all exchanged polite greetings as we passed, but it was kind of unusual for a faerie prince to speak intimately to another royal's attendant.

  “High Prince,” Isleen nodded respectfully.

  Lugh's mouth twitched. He knew Isleen couldn't respond in a similar fashion to him. If she did, it would be a public declaration of their relationship. I almost wish she had said something, it would clear up what was going on between them. The morning after the feast, I wasn't terribly surprised to find Lugh in the dining hall for breakfast, but I was surprised when I saw him again at dinner, and then at breakfast the next morning. The High Prince had remained at Castle Aithinne for four days. Granuaile had told me that it was Isleen who had finally made Lugh leave. So was this just a fling or was there something more brewing between them?

  “Father,” Lugh turned to King Cian casually, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Isleen stiffen. “Have you met Lady Isleen?”

  Everyone went quiet, even the courtiers below us, and we all turned to the High King to see his response. Lugh had tried to get Isleen to claim him, but when that failed, he had claimed her. Introducing Isleen to his father in such a manner was equivalent to standing up and shouting that Isleen was his girlfriend.

  Isleen blushed beet red. I've never seen such a reaction from her. Or seen her that color. On her pale, leanan-sidhe skin, her shame was vibrant. Obvious. High King Cian took mercy on her, smiling kindly, and waving her forward. Isleen went forward stumbling steps, and stood before the High King nervously. Arach watched her with open concern, his hand clenching on his armrest. But Isleen recovered fast, and made a perfect curtsy to the High King of Faerie.

  “High King Cian,” Isleen said as she rose, then nodded to the Queen, “High Queen Meara.”

  “I believe we've met many times,” Cian held his hand out to Isleen, and her eyes went wide as she took it. “You are in charge of the Royal Household of Fire, correct?”

  “Yes, High King,” she nodded.

  “She is my foster mother,” Arach declared, shocking everyone even more. None more so than Isleen, who looked at my husband with suddenly shiny eyes.

  Everyone knew Isleen had raised Arach since he'd been orphaned at age five. There were no dragon-sidhe left to look after the child prince, and so Isleen had taken over his care. But she was still considered a servant, a noble one, a lady, but not a part of the royal family. Arach and I have always regarded her as family anyway, but to make a public declaration of it was just not done.

  I suppose Arach was using Lugh's shocking behavior as an opportunity. No one could reproach Arach for honoring Isleen when the High Prince had just declared her to be his consort. Regardless of Arach's dragon tendency of using every situation to his advantage, his announcement was incredibly touching. And it also served a purpose. Arach was telling the gathered nobility, as well as the High King, that Isleen was worthy of Lugh. At least in his opinion. I was so damn proud of him.

  “Ah yes,” King Cian recovered first, sending Arach a brilliant smile before he lifted Isleen's hand to his lips and kissed it. It had the feel of a blessing. “You have our humble thanks, Lady Isleen. You did the Fire Kingdom, as well as the entire Realm of Faerie, a courtesy by raising such a noble king.”

  “Thank you, King Cian,” Isleen's hand was shaking when she took it back. “It has been my greatest honor to assi
st King Arach.”

  “Assist,” Arach scoffed. “I will always treasure the memories of my birth mother, but honestly, they are hazy. When I think the word 'mother' it is your face that I see. You have my love and loyalty forever, Isleen.”

  I may have started crying. Isleen sure did.

  “Iz,” Lugh stood and embraced her, shocking everyone even more. “Don't cry, sweetheart.”

  “Well, it seems that we have been remiss, King Arach,” Cian noted as the couple continued to embrace. “If this is your mother, she should have the title of Dowager.”

  Isleen pulled away from Lugh in horror, “No, High King, I cannot.”

  “No?” Cian chuckled, revealing that his humor wasn't all that dissimilar to his son's. “Well, can we agree on Duchess then?”

  There was a ranking system in Faerie, as there was in all monarchies. Most kingdoms had duchesses and dukes, which ranked directly below the ruling family. These were usually relations to the monarchs. But all of Arach's family had died, and there were no such individuals in our kingdom. It skipped down to Count and Countess, which was the title Isleen held. The proper address for anything below Duchess was still “Lord” or “Lady”.

  It kept a lot of unavoidable offenses from occurring. Even though the fey didn't believe in all that business of honorifics like “Your Majesty” or “Your Grace”, it was still too much work to remember all the numerous nobles of Faerie and their titles. So technically, we could have called Isleen “Countess Isleen” every time we spoke to her, and it would have been completely proper. Annoying, but proper. Instead, she was usually referred to as Lady Isleen or just Isleen. Unless you were Lugh, who evidently called her Iz. An inappropriate choice in my opinion. I kept seeing a large man playing a ukulele.

  “I am happy with my current rank of Countess,” Isleen subtly reminded everyone that she was already a noble. Good for her.

  “I am not,” Arach said to the High King. “I would be honored, King Cian, if you would rectify things.”

  “Of course,” Cian stood, and waved his son away from Isleen. “Kneel, Countess Isleen.”

  Isleen dropped immediately to her knees, and stared up at the High King with wide eyes. Cian placed a pale hand upon her head.

  “May all gathered here bear witness; I acknowledge the service Countess Isleen has done Faerie and in respect to that, bestow upon her a new title. From this day forward, she is Duchess Isleen of the House of Fire.”

  The cavern cheered, a roaring of sound that vibrated off the stone walls. The High King bent, and helped Isleen to her feet as the cheering slowly died away. He leaned forward, still holding her hands, and whispered something into her ear. My enhanced hearing, and my proximity, allowed me to eavesdrop.

  “You two have my blessing,” King Cian said.

  Poor Isleen, no pressure or anything.

  She curtsied again, and tried to make a hasty retreat, but Lugh caught her hand and kissed it lingeringly. She blushed again, and he smirked at her as she escaped. Isleen hid behind my throne while Lugh resumed his seat.

  “Talk about putting her on the spot,” I whispered to Lugh.

  “It was the only way to get her to commit,” Lugh shrugged, completely unrepentant over forcing Isleen's hand.

  “And you wanted a commitment?” I asked. “After only four days?”

  “When it's right, you just know,” he looked at me steadily. “Do you not, Queen Vervain?”

  “You do,” I glanced at Arach. “I suppose four days is plenty of time.”

  “Exactly,” Lugh cast a blissful look back at Isleen.

  She steadfastly ignored him.

  “Well, now,” King Cian stood again. His voice quieted the cavern. “I think it's time we...” he turned to look at me and ask, “What is it the humans say?”

  “Get this show on the road,” I supplied.

  “Yes, quite!” Cian laughed. “It is time we get this Tournament on the road to royalty! Bring forth the candidates!”

  The contestants came forward to stand before the stone dais in a horizontal line.

  “I have personally met each of you, and have given my approval on your entry into this rare Crown Tournament. May the faerie meant to rule Earth be victorious today, and may that faerie bring honor and joy back to the Earth Kingdom. I have hopes that the echoes of trauma shall fade from these halls, to be replaced by laughter and love!”

  The crowd cheered again, even louder than they had for Isleen.

  “May the tournament begin!” King Cian declared, and resumed his seat.

  Chapter Fourteen

  There were twenty-six entrants. A nice, even number, which was good since they needed to pair off and fight until it came down to just two. It still left an extra fighter every other round though. This extra fighter didn't get to just sit it out and have a nice rest. The entrants were paired off by draw, and then the remaining entrant had to fight one of the last round's losers. This made for some interesting matches, since the loser tended to want to redeem himself. One of them actually did, and his unfortunate opponent got eliminated from the tourney.

  The tournament took all day. Some of the fights went on for a good half an hour. That may not sound like a long time to you, but when you've been sitting there, watching it for hours, it was. Though it probably seemed even longer to the contestants who had to actually fight. And they weren't your average sword fights either.

  As I mentioned before, a lot of the entrants weren't using traditional weapons. In Faerie, when someone was the strongest, it didn't necessarily mean they were physically strong. It didn't matter how good you were with a sword, if you couldn't reach your opponent to use it. And it became very evident, very soon, that the faeries with weapons wouldn't make it very far.

  The last battle came down to two contestants who were both relying solely on their elemental magic. And the woman was one of them. The crowd was rippling with excitement, practically bouncing with it. Animated murmurs circled the cavern, creating moaning waves of sound. Not a single faerie looked away. I could have torn off my flaming dress and did the funky chicken without anyone noticing. Well, maybe Arach would have.

  The earlier entrants had been removed from the fighting area, so that it was only the two earth-sidhe, and a massive spriggan, standing upon the fighting field. The spriggan, puffed up to his biggest bulk, was there as a monitor. I'd call him a referee, but there weren't any rules in the tournament. You had to knock out your opponent to win. Period. Killing was generally frowned upon though, and there had been no deaths so far. Nor would there be in this final round.

  That is, unless one of the opponents had secretly entered because they wanted to kill their spouse.

  Yep, husband and wife faced off across the field. Technically, they could have just called it a day since they were already the next King and Queen of the Earth Kingdom. But they'd decided to play it out to the end just for funsies. I couldn't believe it, but Arach told me it was necessary. They needed to establish who would be the dominant ruler. A couple could rule together, but usually one had the power of veto. For example, in my marriage to Arach, I let him run the show. But that was simply because he knew more about Faerie than I did. With the previous Earth Royals, it was obvious that Queen Aalish ruled above her husband. And the gathered earth faeries were anxious to see if it was about to be more of the same.

  They didn't go easy on each other. The ground trembled, rocks flew, and plants erupted out of the soil to form living lassos. The couple dodged attacks as they cast out their magic viciously, causing the crowd to cheer more than a few times, and gasp even more than that. I slid forward to the edge of my seat, nails digging into my palms, and even Brevyn sat up, and started bouncing on my lap.

  Finally, in a bizarre move, Ruari, the male contestant, flung his hand out dramatically. Purple and white petals, in the exact same shades as his multi-hued hair, rained down upon his wife, Bronagh. Bronagh, briefly distracted by the floral fallout, batted the petals out of her face, and lost her foc
us. Ruari used the opportunity to whack her with a tree. Yep, a whole tree. It burst from the ground beneath Bronagh, and spun, knocking the woman to the dirt, unconscious.

  The entire cavern surged with victorious shouts, a roar so echoing that both of my sons began to scream in protest. Arach and I bounced them, and tried to calm them, as the sweetest, most romantic part of the day unfolded. Yes, even more romantic than Lugh's little con on Isleen.

  Ruari ran to his wife, and fell to the ground beside her. He slid her unconscious body into his lap, and cradled her to his chest, rocking her like a child as he wept. The cheering subsided to an awed silence, and then a reverent one, as the new King of Earth kissed his bride tenderly, and wiped the hair back from her face, mourning his own violence against her, even though they had both agreed to it.

  There wasn't an unmoved heart in the cavern. Couples clung to each other, women sighing and sniffling. The bards nearly fainted from pleasure. A fight was food for song, but one that ended in love was sustenance for centuries of music. There wouldn't just be ballads written tonight, there would be plays.

  Ruari embraced his wife until a healer came out onto the field, and brought Bronagh back to consciousness. She was sort of plain for a faerie, when you gave her only a cursory glance. Hair an average brown, skin a human tan, body as slim as any sidhe. Nothing special, nothing that would mark her as fey. Next to her husband, with his snowy hair shifting to deep purple, his vampire-pale skin, and his blazing yellow stare, Bronagh seemed even more plain. Except for her eyes. They were a glittering green, like faceted peridots, and they cast light across her cheeks when she smiled.

  Bronagh opened those amazing eyes to find her husband holding her, and came to the conclusion that he had won. Instead of being bitter about it, she smiled brilliantly, her gaze lighting the space between them. She lifted her head to kiss her husband, and things got a little hotter than expected for a public display. The earth fey nearly lost their damn minds, clapping, stomping, and shouting enough to shake the cavern. Then Ruari stood, keeping hold of his wife, as if she was some princess whose hand he'd just won, instead of the opponent he'd just defeated. He set her on her feet, and they walked up to the stone dais together.