Sometimes he was so overwhelmed by his feelings he could barely meet her gaze for fear of blurting them out. The last thing he wanted to do was scare her off. So he waited in silent anguish for one small gesture or glance that she felt the same way. There were moments when he thought he glimpsed an inkling, but her moods changed like quicksilver, leaving him more confused than ever.
The link to Fate blazed up his arm, her core essence exploding in his chest. She was inside him, a blizzard of wildfire, cinnamon candy and crisp autumn air. She soaked into his blood, flowed through his veins straight to the heart of his soul, taking his breath away.
He wanted to stay there, dive deeper, drink her up. But he had to pull back, focus on her present condition. He sensed she was safe for the moment. There was still time to send the warning.
Then he suddenly felt a jolt of fear run through her. She was in trouble. He hadn’t been quick enough. Powerless to protect her yet again, he pounded his fist into the sand. He stared at the indent he’d made. If Fate could write Words of Making, he should be able to as well. Scribbling a sentence in the sand, he read it aloud, “I am now in Elsina’s palace standing next to Fate.”
He waited for something, a sensation of traveling, anything that would indicate it had worked, but nothing happened. “Bollocks!”
He jumped to his feet and raced toward the cliff steps.
“Hey! Where are you going?”
Skidding to a stop, he turned to see Fate running up to him, her cheeks flushed, her eyes lit with excitement. She grabbed his hand, pulling him toward her with an urgency that made his heart skip a beat. He stepped close, expectant, reaching out with his other hand to pull her into his arms.
She twisted away, yanking on his hand, tugging him over to the Book of Fables. “Come on, we’ve got to move into the next fable. Now!”
Disappointment hollowed him out, slowing his movements.
A roar echoed out over the cove. Finn glanced up as a winged granite lion glided past the cliff walls, descending swiftly, shaking the ground upon landing. The sorceress slid off its broad back as Hatho touched down with a dozen other soldier hawks.
Rushing now, Finn pulled open the book. He looked back as Fate turned the pages. Elsina radiated deadly power. Her eyes turned white, the air around her body rippled with heat waves. He sensed her drawing strength from the island, charging up. As she raised her arm, a fireball burst from her palm.
He grabbed Fate’s hand. “Time to read that first word,” he urged. But an inferno blasted toward them. There was nothing he could do but shield Fate with his body. Squeezing his eyes shut, Finn braced for the flames to consume them both.
A Dark Faery’s Love
SHROUDED WITHIN THE MISTS OF TIME when the elusive realm of faery had few boundaries, one could easily trespass into a world of enchantment that sometimes offered rich reward but more often led to danger. Within these realms dwelt scores of magical creatures. The forms of faery were varied and numerous, with many names. One such faery, that of a dark ilk, is the subject of this tale. This deadly faery took on the guise of an irresistibly beautiful human so as to spellbind its victim until the moment it revealed its hideous form.
So it was that a young maiden named Mae was picking berries in the forest one day. She knew the berries were most plentiful near the heart of the forest, even though she’d been warned never to go more than ten trees deep into the woods. It was said that an evil grove had grown from the acorn of a cursed oak. These sinister, pixie infested trees moved to confuse many a woodsman’s path and steer him to certain danger. But Mae trusted that there was goodness in all things, even in the heart of the most evil of creatures. Therefore, she ignored the warnings and went in alone.
Yet she was not alone. Something hid in the shadows. A repulsive creature crept from behind and slithered up a tree to hang its loathsome head over her crouched figure. While Mae sang and filled her basket, she was unaware that the dark faery of those cursed woods was taking in the delicious odor of fresh human meat.
When she felt a tickle on top of her head, she lifted her hand and touched something unfamiliar. Curiosity, rather than fear, kept her hand exploring. The dark faery froze under her inquisitive touch while her fingers ran over its misshapen face, and when Mae felt its row of sharp fangs she did something quite unexpected.
She giggled with delight.
In that very moment, something miraculous took place within the dark faery’s heart. Warmth never felt before began to spread where only ice had lived for centuries. When Mae lifted her gaze, the dark faery vanished before she could witness its true form. For the first time in its ancient existence, it felt searing shame for its evil intent.
Mae called out to it, saying not to be afraid, that she meant no harm. The irony was not lost on the dark faery and, try as it might, it could not find any malice in its heart to harm her, nor could it leave her welcoming presence. So it shed its monstrous skin, and out from the scaly heap stepped a handsome young man.
He appeared before Mae. His noble features were warmly colored, his eyes a gentle brown. He wore the garments of a hunter and carried a crossbow in his hand. Giving her a gracious bow, he introduced himself as Callum and reassured her he’d killed the horrible monster that had come all too close to devouring her. Mae was horrified by this and sobbed. Callum was both surprised and confused by her reaction. When he tried to console her, she would have none of it. She told him she could never forgive him for killing her new friend, and ran home.
Contrary to his malicious nature, the dark faery allowed her to leave, not by means of compassion, but because he loved her all the more for the grief she felt toward a vile monster’s demise. Yet here was a true dilemma. If the dark faery could not have Mae’s love, he did not want to live.
The next day, Mae’s father discovered a crate containing twenty chickens outside the door of his humble cottage, a welcome gift for a poor family. Thereafter, the family received ten goats, then five cows, one bull, four fine steeds, six turkeys, a hundred bushels of wheat, bolts of fine fabric, rounds of cheese, barrels of apples, an array of spices, a new wagon, a sack of gold, and finally, a silk wedding gown trimmed in pearls.
Upon the arrival of the last gift, Mae’s father opened the door and welcomed Callum with great enthusiasm. When he asked for permission to marry Mae, her father gave her hand gladly.
Mae was far less willing to marry the man who had murdered her friend, but she couldn’t ignore Callum’s generosity to those who had known only poverty. And she didn’t doubt the love in his eyes when he looked at her. She agreed to marry him that very day, but only on one condition. She pledged that her heart would beat solely for him if he vowed never to kill another living thing again. The dark faery willingly whispered this promise to her.
Word spread, and many came to witness the marriage between the mysterious nobleman and the peasant girl. One of the guests, a wise man with the gift of Sight, was horrified to see a monstrous creature of fae standing next to Mae. With his staff pointed at Callum, he spoke an incantation for drawing false veils aside and revealed the truth to everyone.
The frightened guests drew back when they saw Callum’s true form. Mae was the only one who stayed by his side. She put her hands on the gruesome face staring back at her and smiled in recognition.
Those carrying swords were quick to attack the revolting creature. The dark faery could have killed every one of them, but he would not break his vow to Mae and surrendered. His attackers did not care that he didn’t fight back. They slashed the dark faery into bloody pieces.
After the chaos ended, Mae’s father wailed with grief. His dear daughter lay lifeless on the floor without injury. Her death remained a mystery. No one could have known that her heart beat solely for Callum, whose promise to never kill another living thing had also unwittingly meant the death of his one true love.
Chapter 7
THE FABLE'S OVERWHELMING IMAGERY disintegrated into a torrent of letters that rained onto the yell
owed pages, falling back into their original order.
Gripped by nausea, Fate staggered, waiting for the lightheaded feeling to stop. Slowly, the sounds of wind through trees and the scent of pine brought her around. It was hard pulling out of Mae and Callum’s tragic story. She needed to shake it off, get her bearings. As the queasiness subsided, she remembered the flames shooting at them.
Finn.
Panicked, she straightened, blinking through watery eyes, turning in every direction. Still dizzy, she lost her balance and fell against him. “Oh thank God,” she said, planting her forehead on his chest. “For a second there I thought you’d been Caspered.”
“You’re not the only one,” he said, wrapping his arms around her.
He held her like it was as natural as breathing. He felt so good. Warm and safe. She started to melt against him, but realized something was wrong. “You’re shaking.”
“Just a side effect of being lightly killed.” He pulled away, showing her the top of his left shoulder. There was a singed hole in his shirt, revealing an angry burn, weeping blood.
“Oh no!” she cried, sick to her stomach. “It’s all my fault! This never would’ve happened if I hadn’t taken off like that. I’m so horrible, completely thoughtless and selfish and––”
“Whoa. How about you trade your cane in for a cat o’ nine tails? It’s not a proper flogging without one.”
Fate sighed. “From now on we’ll plan everything out together.”
“Your reasonableness will be much appreciated.” Giving her a weary smile, he pulled out the tin of salve stashed in his pocket.
Fate took it from him and dabbed it on the wound, wincing as she did so. After she finished, she wrote up some bandages and carefully applied them. “There. I’m no Doc McCoy, but I think you’ll live.”
“Thanks, Bones,” he said, walking over to the Book of Fables. “Shall we see what we left behind?”
“Do we have to?”
He was already turning the pages, his expression carefully blank as he read the ending to The Lonely Sorceress.
“What does it say?” she said, afraid to look.
“Well, it seems Torrin was so desperate to strike out to sea he cut down some trees to repair his ship. But that infuriated Elsina, so she imprisoned him for a month, as what she called, a slight punishment. When she let him out, he threw himself off the cliffs. She still ends up lonely.”
“Oh that’s just terrific. Now we’ve got to go back and keep Torrin from killing himself?” She kicked the dirt. “What if we screw up all the other fables too? We could be at this forever.”
“Don’t fret, lass. We’ll get the hang of it. Starting with this new one. And the Words of Making will certainly help. Who knows? We might be able to write all the endings. It could be as simple as that, so long as we put careful thought into it first.”
The conviction in his eyes sparked hope in her. “You think?”
He chucked her chin gently. “Never give up, missy.”
“No, you musssn’t give up,” a sibilant voice hissed from somewhere behind them.
Fate jumped, grabbing Finn’s arm as Elsina’s winged snake rose up from behind a bush. “Sithiasss, at your ssservice.” The snake bowed, tipping off his hat to them, a wide grin revealing long fangs.
He returned the hat to his gleaming head. After several strained moments of silence, Sithias said, “Allow me to begin the peace talksss. I hitched a ride with you mossstly becaussse I could no longer sssuffer the sheer boredom of my life. You two were the mossst exciting thing to come along in a very long time. But I alssso came for the chance to help you turn all thisss gloom into sssomething a little more…upbeat shall we sssay?”
Finn stepped between her and the serpent, his face flushed red with a look of revulsion. “And we’re supposed to trust a snake?”
Sithias appeared offended. “As rumorsss would have it, we’re not all bad.”
Finn clenched his fists. “Hmmm, let’s see…does the term snake in the grass mean anything to you? And you are Elsina’s spy.”
“Please, I’m not here to ssspy.” The snake swayed on his coils. “If anything, I can be of great ssservice to your mission.”
Swift anger cut through Fate’s shock. “Oh, and by help you must mean blowing my cover and nearly getting me killed? Elsina vaporized one of her parrots because of you. He was a bossy pain in the butt, but he didn’t deserve that. And I would’ve been next, except I managed to outwit her.”
“There’sss no outwitting my mistresss. She clearly underessstimated you.” He batted his eyes with a guilty smile. “But you’re quite right, I did––how did you put it? Blow your cover. I wasss merely doing my job. You don’t not do your job around Elsssina. The consequencesss of that are dire.”
Finn took her by the arm, leading her several yards away. “We need to get rid of him.”
She glanced over her shoulder, regarding the snake with equal suspicion. “I’d like nothing more, but he knows all about the Book of Fables. He could cause some major trouble if he wanted to. I say he stays so we can watch him.”
“But he’s a snake.” His face twisted in disgust. “I hate snakes. And I’m surprised you don’t feel the same, especially since he’s all but an oversized worm.”
She shuddered. “Snakes aren’t like those sticky tubes of ick. They’re dry and smooth…and clean.”
Sithias stuck his head between them. “That’sss quite right, I’m spotlesss––”
Finn punched the snake in the nose. “Not so close.”
“That hurt!” he whimpered, rubbing his nose with the tip of his tail.
“If you sneak up on me again, I promise, I’ll skin you for a pair of boots.”
Fate cringed. “Kinda harsh, Finn.”
“I agree, Finn,” the snake added.
“That’s, sir, to you!” He turned his heated gaze back to Fate. “If you knew how my mum died, you’d understand.”
“Was she bitten by a rattlesnake on a hiking trip in the Rockies?”
The anger drained from his face.
She immediately regretted speaking before thinking.
“How could you know that?”
She stepped back. “I, uh––”
“I’m terribly sssorry to hear that,” the snake interrupted, his amber eyes round with contrition. “Ressst assured, sssir, I am not poisonousss.”
He threw the snake a scathing look. “Do you mind? We’re talking here.” He turned to her. “Tell me how you know that.”
Fate’s throat closed around her voice. She finally had confirmation. He was exactly what she’d suspected from the moment she’d laid eyes on him. She simply hadn’t been willing to admit it. Even now she was having trouble believing it. But should she tell him? Part of her wanted to confess everything. But a bigger part resisted. He wouldn’t welcome it. Who would?
Instead, she found herself saying the first stupid thing to pop in her head. “I-I’m a little psychic. I get these flashes, and then poof, they’re gone. Just like that,” she said, snapping her fingers. She gulped, quite certain he wouldn’t buy her lame explanation.
Finn’s shoulders drooped with disappointment. “So…you’re psychic.”
She forced a smile. “That’s me, your very own psychic hotline, right here.”
“Ooh, do me,” Sithias said, excited. “Tell my fortune.”
She turned to the snake, actually grateful for the diversion. “Sure, but you’ll have to wait for a flash,” she lied, knowing one would never come.
“I’ll be counting the minutesss.”
Finn grabbed her arm. “You’re not going to tell his fortune, because he’s not staying.”
“I won’t be any trouble, I promissse.”
Finn lurched at Sithias, who dodged the attack by weaving out of the way. “Listen, we don’t trust you. Besides being Elsina’s spy, you could be one of those bloody squeezers that eats anything from goats to humans.” He eyed him up and down. “You’re big enough to do it.”<
br />
Sithias gagged like a cat coughing up hairballs. “Goatsss? Humansss? How utterly revolting. I prefer ham. Mistressss alwaysss feedsss me sssweet honeyed ham.”
Fate hid a smile behind her hand. “See? He’s domesticated––nothing to worry about.”
“I don’t like it,” Finn grumbled.
She took out her notepad. “Hey, I don’t know about you, but I’ve got a yen for spaghetti.”
“I’m not hungry,” he said, still glowering at the snake.
She left him to his fuming and wrote up a big side of ham for Sithias and two bowls of spaghetti smothered in Parmesan. The snake thanked her profusely. Before he began swallowing his ham whole, which was gross to watch, he talked on and on about how excited he was about their upcoming adventures. By the time they finished the meal, the snake had charmed her.
Even Finn seemed a little less hostile, the black look gone as he busied himself with placing protective wards around the Book of Fables. She finally had a moment to sit back and really look at him, see his actions through the lense of knowing who he truly was. Now it made perfect sense why he placed the powder, which she knew to be crushed chicken bone and sulfur, in the four cardinal directions. And she recognized the invocation he muttered to empower the wards. But she also knew it was a bunch of mumbo-jumbo.
The giant book vanished from sight.
Astonished, Fate stood and walked over to it with her hand raised. When her fingers hit the book’s hard surface, she gasped.
Finn stepped up next to her. “There, that should keep him from sticking his nose in the book.” He fell quiet. “Something wrong?”
She snapped back to attention. “No…I was just thinking he also watched you put the wards in place. He knows where it is, same as we do.”
He let out a frustrated sigh. “I know, but it eases my mind to have done so. And he’s not the only one I’m worried about. We don’t need the dark faery catching a glimpse of it. But we shouldn’t leave the snake alone with the book––all he has to do is read a few words out loud and disappear with it.”
Fate's Fables Boxed Set (Fables 1 - 8): One Girl's Journey Through 8 Unfortunate Fairy Tales Page 8
