by S H Cooper
“A cart pony,” he says slowly. “It’s not a bad idea. We can hide Mary in the back beneath our things. No one's looking for us and there’s nothing suspicious about three men traveling alone. We can get a few cheaply made swords or daggers, pass ourselves off as blacksmith apprentices if we’re stopped.”
Joseph is at his best when he’s weaving a story. I nod along enthusiastically, but our brother isn’t as easily won over by the idea.
“And with what money do you plan to do all that, lad?” Drake asks. “We’ve barely got two coins to rub together, and as much as I love the idea of selling Loleck off at market, I don’t think he’ll fetch a fair price.”
“Well.” Joseph chews his lower lip and studies the ground. Unfortunately, no answers appear written at his feet and he finally shrugs.
“I believe I can help with that,” Torren pipes up from my shoulder. “Have you ever heard of fairy gold?”
“The stuff that vanishes after a day?” Joseph replies uncertainly.
“The very same. I think I have enough in me to conjure what we’d need.”
“But that’s stealing!” I blurt. If our parents ever heard that we were even considering becoming thieves, we’d be sleeping in the barn with only cold porridge to eat. And not even in Raider’s well-tended stall. This is a hay loft level offense!
“Think of it more as a loan,” Torren says brightly. “We’ll borrow what we need and return it on our way back. We’ll even make sure your parents pay them. Your father is High Captain! He’s good for it.”
“But —” I can practically feel the scratch of rough hay against my skin.
“I don’t like it either,” Drake says. “But it’s necessary. Anyone else would do the same, Mary.”
“It won’t be hurting anyone,” Erik adds, to my surprise. I had thought that he, always so caught up in rules and regulation, would have been against the idea.
“Sorry, Mary,” Joseph smiles sheepishly. “I have to agree with them.”
If they’re all for it, how can I argue? And it’s not like Erik is wrong, exactly. No one will be hurt. There will just be a merchant without his valuable wares and no money to show for it. What if he has children to feed? What if he’s taking care of elderly parents? What if selling off that pony is the only way he can afford…whatever it is he needs to live?
I stop my quickly snowballing thoughts and inhale deeply through my nose. Apparently Joseph isn’t the only one in the family who can come up with stories.
“How far is Gladfife from here?” Drake switches the topic quickly, probably to keep me from saying any more about our plan to “borrow”.
“It’s a good four day’s journey from Moorsden,” Joseph says. “And that’s with a horse. Probably closer to a full week by foot.”
“And there’s nothing closer?” Erik asks.
“We can look, but not that I remember. Hand me the map, Drake.” Joseph holds his hand out expectantly.
Drake just looks at it.
“Map? I thought you grabbed it,” he says.
“Why would I have grabbed it? You said you were going to!”
“No, I said we should take one! Do you mean that you packed books, but no map?”
“Well you packed extra sausage rolls! Aye, I saw you, don’t even try to say you didn’t!”
“You’re both hopeless,” Erik groans.
Both my brothers whirl on him.
“Where’s your map, then?” Drake growls.
“Yeah,” Joseph echoes. “You’re Lord Always-Prepared, after all.”
“I was following you,” Erik stammers in the face of twin wrath. “Why would I have one?”
“You’re all hopeless,” Torren smacks her palm to her forehead.
While they carry on, I crouch, unnoticed, and picture Father’s map. I’d sat in front of it for so many hours, pretending I was planning all kinds of adventures, that I can picture it as if it were before me now. I clear the ground in front of me and drag my finger through the dirt. I don’t know how to spell out the names of the towns and villages, but I mark each one with a rough x and add the dotted lines between them, just like Father had on his.
I don’t realize it’s gone quiet until I look up and find the other four staring down at me.
“What’s that, lass?” Drake asks, his brow furrowing,
He doesn’t even recognize it. I should have known I wouldn’t be able to do it. Feeling silly for trying to draw a map when I can’t even read or write, I duck my head and shrug. I start to try and wipe it away, but Joseph quickly steps in to stop me.
“It’s a map,” he says softly. “It’s Father’s map, from his study. These are the routes he takes when he travels.”
“You’re right,” Drake looks mystified. “You drew this from memory, Mary?”
“Aye,” I reply. Shyly, I point to home. “The big mark is for Moorsden. There’s Gladfife, over by your foot, Drake. Eoman’s Reach is here. I think we passed it last night.”
“She’s right,” Joseph nods along, as surprised as our brother. “Those cliffs were the Reach. And there’s Eirnandale, Hollow Watch, even the ruins of Cragsbride. How did you do this?”
“I don’t know, I just remember it,” I say. I don’t add that anyone who had spent as long as I had in front of that map would have been able to do the same.
“Did you say Cragsbride, lad?” Torren flutters to the ground and studies my crude map with her hands on her hips.
“Aye, it’s an old fortress about a day’s walk from Moorsden. We went there once with the men, remember, Drake? There’d been rumors that bandits might have set up —”
Torren interrupts with an amused laugh. “Bandits? Human ones? In Cragsbride? Are you mad?”
“It’s not unusual for bandits to seek out ruins,” Drake says.
“Ruins and bandits. You lot really don’t know much of anything do you?” Torren strolls around the map, eyeing it carefully. “Cragsbride isn’t a human settlement, lads. It’s a fae one, and if we can get there, I think I can convince my people to help us on our way.”
Chapter Eleven
It’s still a half day’s journey to Cragsbride, and that’s at a good, steady pace I can’t match. Over Erik’s protests, Drake divides up his things between the two lads and crouches with his back to me.
“Come on, lass,” he says. “Climb up. It’ll be quicker if I carry you.”
“But Erik said it’ll just make you tired,” I reply. I know I’m holding the group back enough as it is, but we need Drake. He’s the biggest, strongest, and best fighter we have. If we’re set upon again, we’ll need him at his best.
“And since when do you listen to Loleck over your brother?” Drake holds his hands out behind him and waves them. “Come on!”
“We’ll take turns, Mary, don’t worry,” Joseph says.
Reluctantly, I climb on Drake’s back and he lifts me with ease.
“You’re hardly heavier than carrying Father’s things for an overnight venture.” He laughs. “I could go along at a jog like this, easy.”
“Save your energy, lad,” Torren says. “We don’t need you showing off.”
Drake snorts, but strolls ahead. I keep my arms linked loosely around his neck, careful not to strangle him. We cross more quickly through the woods like this and, true to his word, Drake doesn’t tire. Torren is in front, using the sun to guide us.
“It rises in the east and sets in the west,” she explains when I ask how she knows how to follow the sun. “If you know that, and where it sits in the sky at any point in the day, you can figure out what direction you need to go in.”
I look up through the leaves for the sun, but it’s almost behind us, still in the eastern mid-morning sky.
We pass the time with stories. Torren tells us of her family. She had parents and an older sister, Cathalian. They lived in a circle of hollowed out trees surrounded a circle of thorny bushes. To hear her tell it, there was always music and, every night, a feast. The entire court would
gather in the center of their tree-circle and lay out tables and tables of food and drink. The dancing would last through the night, and come morning, it would be cleared away just long enough to see to the daily duties.
“It sounds wonderful,” I tell her.
“Aye, it was,” she says fondly. “I’ve been following your kind for so long, I almost forgot what it was like.”
“My father used to bring us a wild boar once a year,” Erik offers unexpectedly. He’s caught up in the moment and smiling just slightly at the memory. “Mother would roast it with herbs in the fire pit while we played cards. After we’d eaten our fill, we’d walk the village and offer the rest of the meat to anyone who wanted it. He was very generous that way.”
“Second Captain Loleck?” Drake asks, puzzled. “I don’t recall that.”
“It was a long time ago.” Erik’s smile vanishes into his usual sour pout. “We were young.”
“Father has said Loleck was a different man when his wife was still alive,” Joseph says to help soothe Erik’s ruffled feathers. “We probably just don’t remember.”
Erik leaves it at that. He keeps his lips pinched shut and pulls the hood of his cloak low over his face. For a moment, it almost felt like we were all starting to get along. I just wish Drake had chosen his words a bit more carefully, and that Erik didn’t take everything so personally. Our conversation feels awkward now, and we slip into silence.
The sun continues to climb overhead, then begins to slowly descend into the west. The trees are thinning around us into sloping green hills ahead. They stretch as far as I can see, broken up only by the occasional, low stone wall or little smudges of white in the distance that I assume are sheep. There’s only one building standing up against the orange sunset: a tall, mossy ruin that looks like it was abandoned long ago.
We stop at the edge of the trees and Drake lowers me to the ground. Erik and Joseph quickly shove his belongings back at him.
“That’s it,” he says. “Cragsbride.”
“Home to the Kilkaraban court,” Torren says reverently. I almost feel like I should bow. “They are a proud people. Valley dwellers of the first dawn’s light.”
“Meaning?” Drake asks.
“Meaning that they are very old, very powerful, and very mistrustful of outsiders,” Torren replies snippily. She’s got her arms crossed and is drumming her fingers anxiously along her upper arm. “If you want to get in, let me do the talking. Maybe Mary, if they ask questions. Joseph, only if absolutely necessary. You, Drake and Erik? Mouths shut. Don’t even breathe if you can help it. It’ll be best that way.”
“A real fae court.” Joseph is so fixated on the ruins, I doubt he even heard Torren.
I imagine this is like walking into a dream for him. He’s gone wide-eyed and can’t stop grinning. I’d join in if I weren’t feeling so nervous. I look to Torren.
“It’s alright for us to be here, right?”
She’s chewing her lower lip and gives me an absent nod. “Aye, I’m sure of it. Mostly. Kind of. It’s just been a while since my people had any real contact with a court of the first dawn’s light. We were of the lingering dusk court, not much to talk about. You know how it goes.”
“No, I don’t.” I hug myself. “You seemed so sure before.”
“Well, I’ve learned sounding certain gets you lot moving a lot quicker than not sounding certain!”
“Should we go?”
“No, no, it’s fine. They are still fae, after all. We are sworn allies in trying times, regardless of court.” She waves jerkily at me to calm down. “Besides, they’d have spotted us ages ago. No point in running now.”
My eyes flit to either side. I half expect an army of fae folk to surround us, tiny weapons at the ready. The lads have also become wary. Drake’s hand has strayed to the hilt of his sword. A lonely wind whistles across the hills, but there are no fae.
“What do we do?” I whisper.
“Just keep your hands where they can see them,” Torren says with a short, bracing exhale.
No sooner has she finished speaking than a figure appears halfway between us and the ruins. I don’t know where he came from or how he’d gotten so close without us noticing, but he’s approaching at a leisurely, unconcerned pace. As he gets closer, it becomes clear that he’s a tall, slender man, taller than even Drake, with dark skin and long, silken hair that’s fiery red color makes mine look dull in comparison. His clothing, a doublet and trousers in green and gold, are finer made than any I’ve ever seen. He regards us coolly, like a lord who’s just found mice at his supper table. He’s not like Torren at all.
Drake bristles beside me and I grab his sleeve to keep his arm steady. Joseph has gone completely still on my other side, his mouth open in an “o” of wonder, while Erik skulks somewhere behind us. Torren zips in front of us and hovers just beneath the other fae’s eye level. She bows her head respectfully, her hands clasped in front of her at her waist, and waits.
“You have crossed into Kilkaraban land, little evening sister,” he says in a melodic voice that’s more song than speaking.
“Yes, sire of the dawn,” Torren replies. She’s never sounded so subdued before.
“And you have brought mortalkind with you.” He glances at us, a single, disdainful look, then back to Torren.
Drake, despite the tension in his arm, holds himself in check. It can’t be easy for my proud brother when we’re being talked down to like this.
“Yes, sire,” Torren dips her head in a courteous nod.
“Explain yourself, evening child.”
Torren lifts her gaze to meet his and squares her shoulders proudly. “I am Torrenthalian, of the Dhomnal court of Lingering Dusk, may its name not be forgotten.”
“May its name not be forgotten,” the red haired fae murmurs softly. He lifts his right hand, curled into a fist save for the first two fingers. After kissing his fingers, he touches them to his forehead, then places them over his heart.
Torren repeats the gesture. She’s keeping her face carefully blank, but her eyes have become watery.
“Word of your court’s misfortune reached us. We mourned the loss of our brothers and sisters,” he says, inclining his head in a tiny bow. “We had been told all had ascended beyond the morning star.”
“Almost all,” Torren corrects him firmly. “Myself and three others were not present when the sun set over our people. My sisters have since adopted new courts. I remain, as I have always been, of Dhomnal.”
“Your loyalty to your court touches me, little sister,” the fae says.
“It is what brings me here now, dawn sire, with these mortalkind. The man who attempted to destroy my people has attacked theirs as well, and now he seeks this child.” She motions towards me with a sweeping gesture.
The fae arches one of his thin brows. “You know that we do not concern ourselves with their affairs.”
“I am not asking you to,” Torren says. Talking about her family has emboldened her and she lifts herself high, bringing herself level with the other fae. “I am asking you to help me, in the name of our lost. I seek vengeance, as is my right, and these humans are part of it. Would those of the Kilkaraban court deny me my right?”
The fae inhales slowly. “Your trial is ours, little sister, as it has always been, so it shall always be. I will take you to our chieftain so he can hear your plea.”
My brothers and I trade uncertain looks as the tall fae turns and walks back towards Cragsbride. Torren sags in the air slightly, her shoulders dropping with relief, and she snaps her fingers at us to get us moving. Only Erik stays behind.
“Aren’t you coming, lad?” Joseph, the first to notice, pauses to look back.
“Into a fae court? Are you mad?” Erik shakes his head hard. “No thank you! I’ll wait here.”
“The idea is for them to offer us fast passage to Gladfife,” Torren hisses. “We won’t be coming back for you any time soon.”
“I’ll find my own way there,” he snaps b
ack. “I’d rather walk than trust in your kind! I’ve heard the tales, we all have! We know what the fae folk do to humans. Trick them, hurt them, maybe even kill them! You’re all fools if you follow him.”
The tall fae has stopped and is waiting impatiently. His narrowed eyes make it clear he’s heard Erik.
“Please,” I urge Erik. “We don’t have time!”
“I’ll meet you in Gladfife,” he says, taking a few steps back. “If you even make it out of that place.”
“Watch your tongue, human boy,” the fae says sharply. “I have offered safe passage into our halls. Unlike with your kind, you can trust in my word.”
“Leave him,” Drake decides for us. “Find your own way if you can, Loleck, but I will not stand here debating this with you. Not while Father lies ill and our sister is being hunted. We have been promised help, and I will see to it that we get it.”
I’m surprised by my brother, who has so far been slow to trust Torren. The attack that morning must have shaken him more than I realized. I smile at him, grateful he’s willing to put aside his own feelings for me, but he’s already turned away and is walking toward the fae-man.
“You’re a fool, McThomas!” Erik shouts after him. “You all are!”
“Better a fool with allies than a wise man alone,” Joseph says over his shoulder.
“Don’t lollygag,” Torren wiggles her fingers in a teasing wave at Erik. “The Kilkaraban aren’t fond of humans wandering their lands.”
It doesn’t feel right leaving him there, scowling darkly after us. If Drake can overcome his doubts about the fae, surely Erik can, too. But he doesn’t move to follow, and the others aren’t waiting for him. I linger in place, twisting my braid in both hands and looking back and forth. It isn’t like I had wanted him to accompany us in the first place, but he had tried, in his own way, to help when he could. And there are still those promises he’d made to teach me how to wield weapons to consider.
“Come on, Mary!” Drake calls.
“Erik, come with us,” I try to convince him even as he shakes his head again.
