Her pulse drummed in her temples. As she rose to join Alice inside, the old woman stepped out carrying a tray of steaming mugs and spicy-smelling ginger cookies.
Esme accepted a mug and blew across the surface, while the shadows disappeared deeper into the woods. The mile home to Holly Cabin seemed much farther than before.
Chapter Four: Chrysler Airflow
Thayne stepped out of his hillside chambers through the mighty oak’s tall crack, which led into the Grand Ravine. Fae of his court flitted in all directions over roots and into alcoves, exchanging whispered gossip. Not that the telling of tall tales wasn’t a usual occurrence. But this time, their chatter, which hung over him in the twilight’s freezing mist, hummed an octave higher and many decibels louder. His six-foot height allowed him to see above most of his court. Thayne stood silent, taking in the revelry, unusual at a month before Winter Solstice. A quartet of fiddlers and banjo players tuned their instruments. Servers from the cook’s root-framed dugout passed jugs of spearmint wine among those gathered in the ravine. The commotion centered around his two guard captains, Shade and Cobweb, who’d been on patrol today.
Thayne zipped his black leather bomber jacket against the cold and set a path toward the pair. The crowd of at least fifty fae parted before him. “Shade and Cobweb, be welcome and enjoy this new chill in the air.” The recent change in the weather elevated Thayne’s spirits as well. He’d taken extra care in dressing for the evening’s normal Ravine gathering. Thin braids on either side of his face decorated the metallic silver streaks of his black hair. A long silver earring dangled from his left ear.
The tedious days before Solstice, when the Winter Court gained its seasonal power, always brought Thayne and his fae stress. War initiated by the smaller Autumn Court, the secondary court of the dark year, could erupt at any moment, often incited by their overstrung temperaments. Yesterday’s sudden shift to cold weather that favored the Winter Court might trigger the Autumn Court to attack. During this tremulous time, it was Thayne’s custom to let stubble grow over his jaws, becoming more ragged until he could finally smell the sweetness of approaching Solstice, a time of celebration and renewal.
But tonight he’d shaven the scraggly mess early into a tidy black goatee and mustache. His black combat boots, new for the winter season, gave a pleasant crunch against a few clods of earth frozen with last night’s frost. The cool night stirred his blood, and the mirth of his winter fae brought a smile to his lips.
“My King.” Shade whipped off a ragged pork pie hat brimmed with a twisted holly branch as he bowed his six-and-a-half-foot lankiness from his thin waist. His shoulder length dapple-blue and gray hair hung in matted strands. Most likely from some heated exertion, since the day’s precipitation fell only as morning frost and the current icy fog. Shade’s gray Carhartt jacket touted a stain of sepia brown blood on one cuff.
Cobweb lowered her head and gave a slight curtsy, sufficient to demonstrate her fealty without toppling her diminutive plumpness into a somersault. “The early winter sure is welcome, King Thayne.” She rose with a sly grin that twisted the corners of her silver lips and set the pointed tips of her ears wiggling through the gossamer white hair, which gave the faery her name. She and Shade comprised the Winter Court’s most reliable and respected scouting pair.
“Cobweb, you look to have swallowed a songbird the way your mouth is twitching.” Thayne laughed and chuckles from all around met his remark. “I’m expecting you have news worthy of this unrest. The din here in the ravine is enough to unsettle the Autumn Court into warring against us.”
“My King.” Cobweb jumped up and down, her fine hair catching and lifting in the mist. “We know why winter has come early, ’cause we saw the young woman who did it, and she’s living in Grammy Flora’s Holly Cabin. The cabin belongs to her now, and she’s moved in, which might be what brought us winter, since it’s the only change I can see.”
“Is that be Esmeralda, Flora’s granddaughter?” Sire Relic leaned hard on his cane and held his chest to ease his wheezing lungs. “Does she have long brown wavy hair that curls into ringlets at the ends?”
“Yes, that’s her,” Shade replied. “Pretty lass.”
“Aye. ’Twas a pretty child all the years I worked as a boundary patrol.” Relic pulled on one of his red suspenders attached to his dungarees as leverage to straighten some kinks from his hunched spine. A smile lit the retired guard’s grizzled whiskery jowls. “Esmeralda had magic tucked inside those curls and never know’d it. She’d lay in the garden paths, mind full of wonderin’ how plants grow. That’s when I’d pull out a curl to drop its magic onto a sprout behind her. Such great fun to hide and watch her discover the new unfoldin’.”
Mist clouded the old faery’s eyes. “She must be all grow’d up now. She was always fond o’ her Grammy. A fine root worker, who’ll be sorely missed. Good to know her granddaughter’s livin’ here and carryin’ on the old ways.”
Thayne tapped a finger to his temple trying to place the woman they discussed. “I should remember her, but can’t seem to.”
“I can, though have to think back before the long war with the Summer Court,” Shade replied. “Your father kept many of us busy the past few decades bringing back our peace. Rest his soul.”
Though marveling at the description of an intriguing mortal who’d been unbeknownst to him, Thayne bowed his head in reverence to his father. With dogged focus, Father had insisted Thayne learn the subtle manipulations necessary to keep the Winter Court superior to the Autumn and Spring Courts, and in constant contention with the Summer Court for supreme power—the ultimate goal. As the Winter Prince, Thayne had little time to explore his own interests, or even decide what those might be. While being commander of such a noble court was a desirable position, at times he longed for simple pleasures that passed him by. His choices in life had been determined at birth.
While a chorus of respectful wishes were paid to the former King, Cobweb twisted the bell sleeve of her gray woolen tunic. “There’s more we saw.”
“Please continue,” Thayne replied with a nod and prepared to decipher Cobweb’s difficult rambling style of communication.
“The ice we all saw yesterday turned blood red behind Holly Cabin and drew Esmeralda into the woods, to the site where a crime was taking place, but I smelled the stink of revenge in the air long before her and drew some webs to block her path into the danger.”
“That noxious odor wafted even as far as this ravine, traced with acrid murder.” Thayne glanced from Cobweb to Shade.
“It was murder.” The tall guard drew up. “The heavyset councilman, Oscar Burnhard, did in Eugenia Trustwell with a sledge to the head, though I don’t rightly know why. Something ’bout her going to spread incriminating news on him and someone else running for council office aiming to take his spot. I brought down a crash of thunder to set the gal chasing back to Holly Cabin without Oscar knowing she were even there.”
“Good. I’m glad she’s safe. You both did well.” Thayne placed his palms together and bowed his head to the pair. “Is our court involved in the crime in any way?”
“No, my King, only so far as to keep Esmeralda safe.”
Thayne gave a single nod. “Captain Cobweb, please delegate the proper condolences to be made to Eugenia’s kin by your staff.”
Cobweb touched Shade’s arm. “You tell the rest.”
“Esmeralda buried offerings where her grandmother used to, and the autumn fae didn’t take kindly to her gifts. Like she did as a child, she left pine cones and pennies.”
“A wonderful offering from any child,” Thayne replied.
Shade’s sneer lowered his blue muttonchops. “Well, apparently the autumn fae were offended since she’s not a child any longer.”
Cobweb’s face turned pink and words tumbled from her mouth. “I wish we’d been the ones allowed to accept her gifts at this time rather than those snout-faced boars, who should be able to remember a thing or two from offering sites they�
�ve rooted in for years and not be so fussy like you’d think they were princesses.”
“I thought I was telling this part?” Shade winked at his animated partner.
“Oh. Sorry. Go ahead.” She pulled her fists into the long sleeves of her tunic.
“When I saw they’d smeared their dung on the cones and left them at the sites, I knew we had trouble brewing.” Shade adjusted his hat lower on his brow. “I waited from a hidden lookout station. When Esmeralda checked the spots this morning, an autumn fae shifted into a badger and hurtled for her. Claws out, the critter grunted that Esmeralda had to die for what she’d done to the weather. I raced after the faery and snapped his rodent neck long before he could drop his shape. Died as a badger.” He lifted his brown-stained sleeve as proof of the autumn fae’s death.
Thayne stroked the bristly hair of his new goatee. “You did well to keep the badger from her. That killing could mean real trouble from the Autumn Court. With their spite inflamed, King Raclaw will come after her or us or both. Is she protected now?”
“She’s wearing a talisman.” Shade touched a hand to the bloodstone amulet at his chest, one he kept charged and relied on during many battles to stop bleeding. The captain knew a bit about crystal magic. “So’s her cat. Both of witch’s black amber which absorbs energy, ’specially negative. She charged it with strong ditchwater so it should work right for her.”
“Or against her.” Thayne’s jaw clenched. “That alone will draw Raclaw to act. To help him widen his path of death, he’d certainly want that talisman, filled with all sorts of power—including hers. Black amber when worn can take on the witch’s own powers. I’m assigning you two to guard and protect her with additional support as needed. Also, find out if she’s going to Bentbone or some coven function. I’d like to meet her and assess how much and what type of energy she’s storing in that talisman. The threat of war might hinge on that fact.”
Thayne’s gaze locked on Shade’s and conveyed more to his head guard captain than he wanted to say aloud. Thayne wanted to keep the woman safe, but he also wanted to keep his fae safe. His father had trained him to hold that paramount to all else. Even if that meant securing and utilizing the black amber for his own good. One of his goals as a new king was domination over the Summer Court. Perhaps that charged gem could be a useful tool in his endeavor. Hopefully his plans wouldn’t harm Esmeralda, who many of the older members of his court held dear.
Thayne plodded out of the ravine and along its rim, followed by four of his personal sentries, who stayed closer than usual given the captains’ news. His thoughts weighed heavy upon him as he trod over a precarious layer of new frost. The ground crackled and gave way under his weight. Angered by its lack of reassurance, his footprints froze the earth.
***
The next afternoon an overcast sky spat glorious fat snowflakes, which Thayne hoped meant he’d have good luck. Unable to determine a correct course of action from the information Shade and Cobweb had presented, Thayne needed luck to be on his side.
At the edge of the Winter Court’s forest, his willowy personal sentry, White Eagle, transformed his near six-foot height first into the raptor and then a brilliant red 1930 Kissel White Eagle four-door sedan.
The shapeshifting fae beamed whenever Thayne needed to travel by car. The guard kept his automobile form in perfect order: whitewalls clean, chrome gleaming, and engine purring. In other capacities, he served the king with mundane tasks that didn’t place him in danger because his particular role as a vehicular shifter was highly prized. Only a few of the Winter Court possessed that capability, and only White Eagle’s alternate form resonated as a Thirties-style car, often necessary in Coon Hollow Coven.
Thayne sat in the driver’s seat. While he could drive, one privilege his father deemed a necessary skill, White Eagle navigated for him.
During the fifteen-minute jaunt to the nearby village of Bentbone, Thayne applied his chosen mask of human-like glamour. Considering Esmeralda was said to be pretty, a handsome appearance could grant him time to flirt while attending to his true purpose of determining more about her talisman. He darkened the silver streaks at the sides of his face to black like the rest of his hair and tied it all in a neat ponytail. He broke from his usual preference for black and leather to casual khaki pants with a pine green crewneck sweater. The black leather bomber jacket stayed, as did his new combat boots. No jewelry on this mission. Even though plenty of free-dressing artist types lived in the small town, his goal was to look clean and acceptable in order to do his job.
When White Eagle turned onto Bentbone’s main street, Thayne said, “Total Automotive and Used Car Sales is on East Jefferson. Turn right at the post office.”
“I got it, my King,” the guard’s happy voice rumbled from the dashboard. He pulled into diagonal parking in front of the converted gas station and cut his motor. “As always, I’ll be here for whatever my king needs.”
“Thanks. I don’t see Esmeralda’s blue Prius. We’ll wait.”
During the next ten minutes, body shop workers poked their heads out eyeing the rare vintage car. “They’re watching us,” White Eagle murmured.
“Not us, you. Your vehicle is so damned rare—”
“And in mint condition.” The sentry muffled a chuckle as a worker with a head of blond curls approached.
Thayne pushed out from the driver’s side and greeted the man.
“Sweet ride. Mint. Seen this car ’round town a time or two but didn’t know who owned her. Almost a crime to take her out with this spittin’ snow.”
“Agreed. I’m here waiting on a friend to help her buy an old car, something from the Thirties. Decent quality.” Thayne didn’t know much about cars, leaving that to his sentries, and hoped he could get the man talking to kill time.
“Well, we don’t have anything of this caliber if that’s what you’re lookin’ for.” The hulk of a man, who looked to be in his mid-twenties, thrust out a grease-stained hand. “Name’s Harley Hinks, manager. I’m sure we’ll have some cars for you to take a look at. Give a holler whenever you’re ready.”
Harley walked around admiring White Eagle as the Prius drove up beside them.
Esmeralda stepped out, not dressed as Thayne had expected in a flowing skirt and sensible shoes like most coven women. Instead, she wore skin-tight jeans, heeled ankle boots, and a cropped jacket that showed off her hips but couldn’t offer much warmth. Shade and Relic were right. She was pretty, with dark brown waves of hair spilling over her shoulders.
Thayne felt unprepared and rubbed a hand across his brow to steady the jerking effect that rippled through his nerves. He reminded himself to check for her talisman. Luckily her jacket hung open allowing the black amber to dangle in full view.
Harley gave her a nod. “I’m Harley Hinks, shop manager. What can we do for your Prius, ma’am?”
“Oh. Nothing. I’m here to look for a vintage car, one I can use in the coven.” Underneath the directness of her request, her voice trembled with a hint of apprehension. Had the Autumn Court made more attacks upon her? Wouldn’t Shade and Cobweb or their staff notify Thayne?
“What type model are you lookin’ for, ma’am?” Harley asked.
“Please call me Esme.” She glanced at Thayne’s shining red sedan. “Nothing that fancy. I’m on a budget.”
The burly manager waved her to the sales lot.
Thayne gestured to her and asked, “Do you mind if I give you some opinions to help out?” For his kind offer, he expected a minute or two of polite conversation that would allow him to examine the talisman. Deals with humans usually worked well, mortals being so polite they didn’t think to cheat.
“Umm. I think I’m okay.” Her gaze flashed at him and revealed a hesitancy to trust. Esmeralda set a quick pace toward the manager. Thayne didn’t expect a decline of his offer. He stared after her, dumbfounded. But the small backset wouldn’t keep him from gaining the information he needed. He strode after the pair.
In the gravel
side lot, the manager pointed out various models. “I have this here tan Buick Century from 1936.”
Esmeralda shook her head. “Ugh. It’s as long as a hearse.”
He stepped to the car behind. “Here’s a Buick Roadmaster from the same year. Price is reduced to $30,000.”
“Holy cow! That’s more than I paid for my Prius.”
“We can offer you a fair trade for it.” Harley filled his wide chest with air and held it there.
“No. I’m keeping it for long trips out of the coven.”
“Smart idea.” Harley puffed out a breath and opened the burgundy hood. “She’s got lots of features here, including some modern upgrades.”
“Do those pass coven regulations?” she asked.
He shrugged, but Thayne identified the man’s lie by the slight way his eyes darted to one side, nothing a mortal could detect with their limited senses.
Thayne stepped near the engine, careful not to touch the steel which was toxic to fae, and studied parts he couldn’t name. He shook his head and tried unsuccessfully to pull his gaze from the dancing colors of Esmeralda’s bright-blue eyes. “No, these changes won’t pass inspection if the Council conducts a screening.”
“Thanks. Good to know.” She flashed him a tentative smile, just enough to show the dimples in her cheeks, just enough that he forgot to capture a look at her crystal. She looked to the manager. “It’s more than I wanted to pay anyhow. Do you have anything else?”
He walked a few paces past newer cars to a smaller blue sedan. “This just came in and is in clean condition. A 1934 Chrysler Airflow.”
“It looks like a Volkswagen Bug in the front, both its hood and fenders. I love it!” Naïve in the art of the deal compared to fae, she chased around the car.
Thayne tried unsuccessfully to slow her enthusiasm and keep the manager from upping the price.
Coon Hollow Coven Tales 1-3 Page 68
