The Wild Curse (Faerie Sworn Book 2)

by Ron C. Nieto

  Contents

  Chapter I

  Chapter II

  Chapter III

  Chapter IV

  Chapter V

  Chapter VI

  Chapter VII

  Chapter VIII

  Chapter IX

  Chapter X

  Chapter XI

  Chapter XII

  Chapter XIII

  Chapter XIV

  Chapter XV

  Chapter XVI

  Chapter XVII

  Chapter XVIII

  Chapter XIX

  Chapter XX

  Chapter XXI

  Chapter XXII

  Chapter XXIII

  Chapter XXIV

  Chapter XXV

  Chapter XXVI

  Chapter XXVII

  Chapter XXVIII

  Chapter XXIX

  Chapter XXX

  Chapter XXXI

  Author's Note

  Other Titles

  C H A P T E R I

  Lily woke up and realized she wasn’t dead.

  Between a gasp for air and the next, the memories drowned her—the betrayal she felt when she discovered Troy was a monster from the Unseelie Faerie Court, the desperate bargain she had struck with the Seelie knight, Cadowain, hoping he’d help her save her grandmother because of their old romance, the incursion to Aboyne’s church to retrieve the Wild Horn that had started it all. It was the one thing capable of summoning and commanding the Wild Hunt, unsettling the eternal balance between Seelie and Unseelie, between Winter and Summer, between Light and Dark.

  And she had found it. She had come so very close to hiding the Horn from the Unseelie Court, finding her grandmother, and putting an end to the nightmare . . . She could still feel the hope and happiness slipping through her fingers.

  But Cadowain had been right. Troy had been using her to get to the Wild Horn. That had to be why Troy had agreed to help her find her grandmother. He had probably tricked her into believing she had talked him into it because no sooner had she left the churchyard's hallowed ground, where the Horn had been hidden, the Unseelie had been upon her. Led by Troy.

  Because they had been led by him, right?

  Adrenaline flooded her, her body jumping back to the fight-or-flight response she had felt when the first arrows started raining. Troy had been there, yes, but he hadn’t given her up. He had shoved her out of the way, had hidden her from the man she knew was an Unseelie hunter. It was a gut feeling so intense it must be hardwired in the most primal part of her brain. The hunter had been both equal and opposite to the Seelie faeries she'd met at the Summer Court, and the memory of him made the hairs stand up on the back of her neck even now. He had been one of Troy’s own, and still Troy had pressed up against her, covering her in a cool sheet of glamour thick enough to fool even the high faeries of Winter, holding on long enough for her skin to warm his.

  Was that part of Grandma’s bargain? Was he obliged to help me? She looked down at the necklace she wore. Three charms of blooming roses and a promise to save a life attached to each one. But all the roses were wilted now, the favors spent—the last one had disappeared when he shoved her out of the way of an arrow. Besides, that’s not how the pledge was worded. He had to save my life once more, so that could’ve been the arrows. But hiding me? Keeping another Unseelie from finding me?

  Her head hurt. Heavy cobwebs of sleep clung to her lashes, blurring her vision. Her hair was a rat’s nest, once again full of twigs and leaves, wet clumps of it sticking to her forehead and neck. Tiny rivulets dripped down and left freezing tracks on her skin. She shivered, and her first thought came back to haunt her.

  She couldn't believe she was still alive. Troy had transformed into a horse and dragged her into the river, and while it hadn’t been the first time she rode him, it was the first time she did so while knowing just what a kelpie was. “Something that scares me,” she had said back when they met. She had been spot on, even if she wouldn’t have guessed his true nature.

  A kelpie. A trickster who made humans trust him, then drowned them, then ate them.

  She should be dead, but she wasn't. Instead, she was in a clearing, the grass fresh below her and the harsh light of the sun filtered by the exuberant canopy above. The river flowed nearby, the sound and smell of it acting like a lullaby, and while she was wet and starting to feel the cold, she was nowhere near the hypothermia she should be suffering after being dumped in a Highland river and then laid out to dry on the shadowed shore. In fact, barring minor pains and discomforts, everything seemed to be fine.

  She shifted a little to test that theory and her body obeyed with no protests.

  Then, she jerked upright.

  Not everything was in order.

  The knapsack she had carried was nowhere to be seen, and the Horn was inside. Furthermore, the notebook her grandmother had left her was inside, too. It was filled with faerie doctor history and as much useful lore as her grandmother had dared to put in writing. She had only found the time to skim a few pages while catching some downtime at the Seelie Court, but beyond whatever clue the notebook could offer, it was her last link to—

  No. I’m not thinking like that. I’ll find her and we’ll go over the book together. What I have to worry about for now is the Horn.

  The Horn was her bargaining chip. It was something tangible she could use to save her grandmother. It was safe to think about it, and it was important to find it. She pushed off the ground and struggled to her feet.

  Her aching head swam. Her knees sought to buckle. She gasped, and the faint sound left a trail of fire on her sore throat.

  Breathe in. Breathe out. She stumbled a couple of steps to the side and made it to a tree. The rough bark snagged her skin when she leaned in for support, and her mind flashed back again to another tree, to equally rough bark digging against her front while the solid weight of Troy caged her in.

  Trapping me? Keeping me safe?

  Where is he?

  She had no time for those questions.

  One thing at a time. Step by step.

  So, the Horn. The notebook.

  Troy.

  No, he wasn’t important. Finding the Horn was all that mattered.

  But where am I? Why did he help me?

  “So many questions in your eyes. Should you not count your blessings and consider yourself lucky?”

  Lily nearly jumped out of her skin, her heart hammering her ribcage and her pulse throttling her. She turned, surprise lending unexpected balance to her legs, and there he was. Black hair slicked back, clear water dripping from the strands and running in rivulets down his neck to disappear into the black, thin shirt. He still wore the borrowed clothing from the Seelie ball, but now it didn’t look like anything appropriate for a party: the fabric was wet, clinging to his lithe frame, painting him in shadows to better blend with the darkness of the woods.

  “It wasn’t luck, and I like my truths,” she managed to say, meeting his gaze.

  Green eyes. Green and wild and unbroken, as the Highlands themselves, but were they treasonous, too?

  She swallowed and the corners of his lips pulled into a small smile.

  “I know,” he said.

  “Why?”

  His smile widened and a hint of mischief crept into his voice. “That is a very open question, Lily Boyd.”

  Her True Name rolled past his tongue and dropped from his lips like decadent candy, and it rubbed against her senses, her very soul, like liquid silk. It made her shiver, and it reminded her of the hold he had over her. A True Name freely given was a gift of will, and whenever he used it, she lost hers. She became little more than a marionette. He could make her behave against her wishes, go against herself.
She had been foolish giving it to him—blimey, she hadn’t even known what she had done until it was too late. She had merely introduced herself, too ignorant of the ways of the faeries to know better.

  He hadn’t even needed to trick her.

  Now he used it, and she couldn’t even tell if he had meant to remind her of her stupidity or if it had been just a comment.

  She sighed. “Do we really have to play now?” She didn’t need reminders. Cadowain, who had been bound to offer a token of help because of his old romance with her grandmother, had known, as a Seelie courtier, where Mackenna was, what had happened to her—and he had been unable to tell Lily because of her ties to the Unseelie court, through Troy and his mastery of her Name. The knowledge burned in the forefront of her mind.

  “The game never stops and you need to remember,” he said.

  “Fine. Then, why did you help me?”

  He shifted, enough to lean against a tree, and crossed his arms. The movement strained the clinging fabric across his shoulders and dislodged a drop of water from his eyelashes. It splattered on his forearm.

  “Why ever not?”

  Lily rubbed her eyes. “That’s cheating. You can’t answer a question with a question.”

  “The rules say I must answer truthfully, and some questions need to be answered with further inquiries. However, if you insist.” The smile became a smirk. “Because.”

  “Because. That’s your improvement?”

  “It is my truthful reply.”

  “You’re impossible.”

  “Indeed.”

  Time to change the approach. “Could you have killed me?”

  “Yes.”

  The word sank between them like a pebble thrown into a pond and the ensuing ripples shook Lily to the core.

  So why didn’t you? You’re a confessed human-eating Unseelie monster.

  But there would be no answer to that question, not beyond the nonchalant “because” Troy had already offered, so she tried to shove her screaming doubts aside and focus on the next truth she needed.

  “Where are we?” Time ran in different ways in the fay and human realms, so she might as well have added a “when are we” to her question, but Troy didn’t pay as much attention to time as she did. He could interpret it as a faux-pas and get upset.

  “In the mortal shore of time,” he said then, almost echoing her train of thought. “This water will run to meet the Dee on the other side of the Cairngorms.”

  “That’s . . . that’s miles from Aboyne’s graveyard!” And that’s where she had fallen unconscious, give or take a few hundred yards.

  “So it is.”

  “How did you bring me here?”

  “The water brought us here.” He regarded her, amusement draining from his features. “It was needed in order to escape the Royal Hunter.”

  The Royal Hunter. The Unseelie sidhe with the arrows. The shadow he had protected her from.

  Her throat went dry then, and she had to ask, even though they were both standing alone under the canopy of the old, old trees, the quiet sound of running water and the ruffling of wind through the leaves the only background to their bantering.

  “Did we escape him?”

  “Not quite, Lily.” He pushed off the tree, standing straight, tall and lean, and suddenly dangerous. “Not quite.”

  C H A P T E R II

  Not quite. The words echoed in her mind, bouncing around inside her head until they lost their meaning. She was glad for the tree still holding her up.

  “How do you ‘not quite’ escape a Royal Hunter?” she asked.

  “You must understand there is a reason for his title,” Troy began. His hand came up, an absent gesture to sluice water back from his face, down his hair. A nervous gesture? “The sidhe are highest among the fay, the ones closest to the Queens. Do you comprehend the implications?”

  “Spell it out for me.”

  “You met Cadowain and the Seelie guards. Can you envision them striving for, or attaining, anything but perfection?” He waited a moment for his words to sink in, but then he pressed on. “The Royal Hunter has been selected from such a pool of talent and strength, recognized and appointed by the Unseelie Queen herself, and he has held the title for many, many long decades. How many times do you imagine his quarry to have escaped him?”

  “Not very often?”

  “Never, Lily. When Her Highness dispatches Her Hunter, it is no question of whether he will succeed, but of when.”

  “So he can follow through water, through miles, through mortal and Seelie and Unseelie territories all? Is that what you’re telling me?”

  “Yes. It may take him but a moment or a full day, he may do it himself or call upon his resources, but he will always find a way to carry out the will of the Queen.”

  “How long?” she asked. The cold, a mere distraction a few moments before, had speared her to the bone and she was shivering, unable to hold her body steady unaided by the tree or to keep her hands from trembling. “How much longer till he finds us?”

  “He already has.”

  Lily stumbled away from the tree and jerked her head from side to side, looking for an invisible shadow, a deadly phantom. Flight instincts gripped her mind. Like a rabbit spying a hawk. Like a deer meeting a pack of wolves. Like—

  “Lily.” A strong hand clasped her upper arm and she shuddered. “Calm down, woman.”

  Woman. Not girl or child.

  “Where is he?”

  “Not here. You need not worry so for your life, not yet.”

  “You’re not at your most reassuring right now.”

  “I am answering your questions with forthright honesty and offering information, am I not? I should hope it all goes a way toward reassuring you.”

  “Not working. Now I’m also worrying about your helpfulness.” But it did. Somehow. A little.

  Enough for her mind to break through the choking hold of fear, at least.

  “There is a choice you must make,” admitted Troy when he saw her returning grip on reason. A small smile broke his intense expression and his grip softened, becoming less a restraint and more an anchor point. “I may be able to be more reassuring if you are capable of being wise.”

  “You need to stop calling me stupid.” Lily frowned at him but felt herself relax into the familiar banter. She allowed him to guide her to sit. “What’s this choice? I can’t give up the Horn, so I hope that’s not it.”

  “I know.” Troy sank down beside her and ran his fingers through his hair once more. “As I said, if you act with some thought, all shall be well. You shall remain in possession of the Horn, and we might find the answers that keep eluding us.”

  “Answers?” she cut him off. “What do you mean?”

  “Before traveling to the Seelie territory, we discovered that only the Courts could enlighten us about the fate of the Doctor. Courts. Both. If I chose to take you to the Seelie lands, it was because I believed you would be capable of exploiting Cadowain’s old claims. I was mistaken, and after your reckless departure, that is one avenue we may no longer pursue. However, the Unseelie courtiers may hold answers, and you may be able to obtain them if you gain their favor.”

  He doesn’t know. He thinks I botched the deal with Cadowain. She bit her lower lip and fought to keep her breathing steady.

  “The sidhe differ little from one another, regardless of their allegiances,” he went on. “You must not despair of discovering what happened.”

  I already have. I know the Seelie took Grandma to keep her safe from the fight for the Horn, and I know Cadowain knows where she is. He’ll take me to her the moment I can make sure you can’t use me to get to it.

  “Okay,” she said. Her throat felt tight, and she had to turn away from Troy’s face. He didn’t look like a man-eating monster right then. He looked inhuman, yes, but his eyes weren’t emotionless. She found herself wanting to tell him all that had happened, but by his own admission, “the game” was always on and she couldn't trust anyone,
not even him. Especially him. What was she thinking? He ate humans. Keeping the shiver out of her voice, she said, “Tell me the plan.”

  “Agreeing already? My, after your vocal disagreement with my being Unseelie, you prove to be most compliant.”

  Lily shrugged, not lifting her gaze. “Yeah, well. You’re being very open for a confessed trickster faerie, too. Besides, I’m not agreeing, I’m just asking.”

  “Very well. The truth is the Unseelie Queen does not care about you, Lily. She has commanded her Hunter to fetch the Horn, nothing else. However, there is a way to make yourself important enough that it will warrant protection and useful enough that it may earn you a boon.”

  “God, you do want me to let her have it after all.” She felt her stomach sink with the realization. Cadowain’s implications saying that Troy was nothing but an agent trying to secure the artifact for his own Court echoed in her ears. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

  “Not at all.” His cool, strong fingers gripped her chin and tilted her head. He smiled, something determined and mischievous and wild. “I would have you delivering it yourself.”

  He meant it. She saw it in his eyes, in the razor-sharp curve of his lips. Her heart stuttered to a halt and then jump-started again with a fury, bruising her ribcage with its maddening beat.

  “That’s crazy.” If I don’t stick to the plan, I’ll lose Grandma.

  “It is the only way.”

  “Letting the Queen of Monsters have a weapon of magical destruction is not a way, Troy. It’s crazy. Do you have an idea what she could do?”

  “Do you?” he asked sharply. “Do you truly understand? But that is not the question, Lily. You do not possess the power to keep the Horn from her. It is already hers. You must now choose between entering the game and profiting from it, or turning away and wasting everything we have done so far.”

  No. Turning over the Horn, that will waste everything I’ve done so far. It’ll prove Cadowain right, and the Unseelie won’t be able to help because Grandma’s in Seelie custody—where she had to be taken because the Unseelie became too threatening.

  “Lily?” Troy prompted, his fingers sliding along her jaw in a gentle caress. “If I am mistaken and you are correct, if the Doctor is still alive, we must not dally, and we must do what proves necessary.”