Bayou Shadow Protector

by Debbie Herbert

  Hoklonote screamed out a series of words and syllables that sounded like gibberish to April.

  But it worked.

  The explosions of light and smoke ceased, allowing the stiff wind to clear the way to reveal a better picture of the battleground.

  Nearly half of the shadow hunters lay on the ground, moaning. Joanna and Annie crawled on the ground between the bodies, tending to the wounds as best they could. The columns of wisps, reduced to merely a fourth of their previous numbers, retreated backward.

  Fairies glowed like lanterns in the black night, ascending from the ground up to the treetops.

  Chulah shifted the cane from one hand to the next. He was still in pain.

  “The cane’s burning Chulah,” she shouted at Tombi. “Do something.”

  Tombi motioned to the shadow hunters who remained standing. “Stand guard around the cane. Chulah, lay it on the ground.”

  He released the cane only once the other hunters encircled it. It writhed on the ground at their feet like a snake set on fire.

  One of the hunters, she believed it was Poloma, raised a dagger and sliced it through the cane, as if it were made of butter instead of hard hickory. The other hunters did the same, cutting the cane into a pile of splinters that were matchbook in size.

  Hoklonote wept in fury, kicking his short, spindly legs repeatedly into Tombi’s shins. If it hurt, Tombi didn’t show it. Two of the hunters hurried to Hoklonote and bound his ankles.

  Steven scurried out of a ditch where he’d evidently been observing the fray from a safe position. Brushing mud from his jacket, he strutted to Hoklonote, puffing out his chest as if he’d done something.

  A foot out, he jabbed a finger in Hoklonote’s face. “Release the queen.”

  “I don’t have your queen.”

  A swarm of hissing erupted from above. The fairies in the trees buzzed like a hive of angry hornets.

  “Liar. She’s trapped in the tree with Nalusa Falaya. Release her at once.”

  Sure. Steven was good at commanding orders when the enemy was bound in front of him and the shadow hunters were at his back. And to think she’d once felt sorry for him when Steven claimed that he cared for her. How quickly his affection had cooled once she’d lost her Fae essence.

  Nothing showed a man’s true worth like a battle. April glanced at Chulah. Despite the gaping wound in his left shoulder, and burned and blistered hands, he stood tall, silent and regal.

  Hoklonote’s eyes narrowed. “Perhaps we can make a trade, eh? Release me and I’ll release the queen.”

  “You go first,” Steven said, folding his arms across his chest.

  Tombi glared at Steven. “If you think you can waltz in here at the last second and take over—after everyone else has fought your battle—then you can think again,” he said in disgust.

  Steven’s face flushed. “What’s your plan?”

  But Tombi’s gaze had flickered past Steven to where Annie and Joanna were bandaging the few remaining hunters who hadn’t rejoined their group. “What the hell are you doing here?” he bellowed.

  “Tending the wounded,” Annie said, nonplussed. She waved a hand in his direction. “Continue on doing your thing.”

  Several of the hunters snickered and Tombi glared in their direction. “This isn’t the first time our women have shown up unannounced,” he reminded them. “In fact, I think all of your wives and girlfriends and sisters and such have shown up at some point.”

  Chulah shook his head slightly at Tombi and pointed to Hoklonote.

  “Back to the matter at hand,” Tombi muttered.

  April held her breath. If the hunters tethered Hoklonote with Nalusa inside their tree, it would mean they’d never have to fight on such a large scale again. On the other hand, they did promise to help the Fae.

  With the notable exception of Steven, the Fae had valiantly assisted the hunters tonight. Without their help, they very well might have lost to Hoklonote.

  Yes, the Fae had treated her unkindly most of the time. But the Fae realm was home, they had raised her, and not everything about her life had sucked. There were moments of incredible beauty and magic, the taste of nectar waters, flying by moonlight...

  “We always honor our agreements. The Fae will have their queen restored.” Tombi forced Hoklonote to turn in the direction of their sacred tree. “Move it.”

  Hoklonote gave up the fight, a pleased smile hovering on his thin, bluish lips. Still, they progressed the twelve or so yards slowly, everyone else falling in behind. Even the injured hunters who had been lying on the ground stumbled to their feet and limped forward. At the base of the tree, they formed a horseshoe.

  Poloma stepped away from the group holding the splintered remains of the hickory cane bundled in his jacket. He dumped the wood in a heap and dropped a match on the pile. It roared to life in an instant, much stronger than a normal fire would have done.

  “My cane!” Hoklonote screamed. “You didn’t have to burn it.”

  She could almost feel sorry for him. After all, he was old and could barely walk on those twisted, tiny feet.

  “We’re not stupid,” Chulah said. “This was the only way to kill the black magic you stored inside it.”

  “You’re lucky we aren’t throwing you on the fire,” Steven said with a growl.

  Yep. That fairy could be pretty bold once an opponent was crushed.

  “Now release the queen,” Tombi ordered.

  “You first.”

  Tombi jerked on the rope binding Hoklonote’s hands. “Oh, hell no, little guy.”

  Hoklonote delivered a withering scowl at Tombi, but began mumbling. Again, April couldn’t decipher a word he spoke. Would he release their queen? April shuddered to think of her enclosed inside a tree with Nalusa. What a nightmare.

  The cypress tree shook and rattled as if an earthquake had erupted underneath its deep roots. A misty fog enveloped the tree, so thick she could discern only the barest outline of its trunk and branches. The fog cleared.

  The queen emerged, disheveled and unable to stand straight. Nevertheless, there was regality in the lift of her chin and an unmistakable dignity in her composed features.

  The fairies immediately surrounded her, a flying aura of glittering pixie light.

  And then they were no more. April blinked at the sudden darkness. She glanced back over her shoulder. Steven had disappeared with them.

  April shook her head. They hadn’t so much as said thank you before leaving to return to their world. A tiny ball of hurt lumped her throat. They hadn’t even looked at her. After all she had done, she was still unworthy in their eyes. She’d never be good enough.

  Chulah threw an arm around her shoulders, and she snuggled into his warmth and comfort. From the vantage of his protective strength, she watched as Tombi took out his dagger and unbound Hoklonote. “You’re free.”

  The shadow spirit rubbed his wrists, frowning. “But my cane is destroyed,” he complained. “Hardly fair.”

  Tombi shrugged. “You know what they say—all’s fair in love and war.”

  Hoklonote faced each one of them down with a snarl. “You’ll pay for this one day. Every one of you. Mark my words.”

  “You’re full of it,” Chulah said with a laugh. “It’s over. Without Nalusa and without your cane, your influence over the wisps and Ishkitini is minimal. You’re no threat to us.”

  So the balance of power had shifted.

  Weariness washed over her as the adrenaline seeped out of her bones, leaving her cold and so very, very tired.

  Hoklonote lifted his chin, obviously trying to hold on to some small shred of dignity. He turned his back on them and headed to the safety of the woods. By the Choctaw sacred tree, he patted the trunk. “Not this time, Nalusa.”

  “Not ever,” Chulah vowed beside her. He kissed the top of her head. “Tired?”

  “Extremely.” She gazed at him through a fringe of lashes. “Are you angry I followed you out here tonight?”

  “H
ow could I be when you saved our ass?” He kissed her again. The small knot of unhappiness from the fairies’ snub unraveled. This was where she belonged. Where she wanted to be.

  She yawned. “Let’s go home.”

  The men all shook hands and April smiled wanly at Joanna and Annie and gave a little wave. The first lights of dawn rose over the horizon—blue and purple and coral. It had been a long night.

  But it was over.

  * * *

  Chulah’s left shoulder burned like sin. Should have asked Annie for something. He’d catch her in the morning. For now, he wanted a hot bath, a soft mattress and April lying by his side. Despite the pain and his own tired bones, he kept her propped up, absorbing her weight as much as he could. She was practically sleepwalking.

  He smiled down at her silver-lavender hair and inhaled her sweet scent of violets. He’d secretly been afraid that the Fae would whisk her away when all was over, but they hadn’t so much as glanced April’s way. Did this mean she was staying with him?

  The question had been haunting him for some time. Now that the battle had been fought and won, he still didn’t have a definitive answer. Chulah squeezed her shoulder. He’d make love to her so passionately tonight she’d never want to leave.

  The light from his cabin shone through the clearing. Another ten minutes and they could rest.

  A stirring rustled through the dead grass and Chulah stopped, immediately alert. It happened again, louder, closer. That was no deer. He gently shook April. “Run for the house,” he whispered in her ear.

  April jolted and turned wide eyes on him. “Why? Wh—”

  “Just go,” he urged. “I’ll be along shortly.”

  The rustling grew to a sound like an oncoming train. Ahead, the grass weighed down as an invisible object bore down upon them.

  “Grady!” April cried.

  A ball of light materialized from the darkness, morphing into a human form. Chulah drew his dagger from his belt. “Run,” he yelled at April, without letting his eyes leave Grady’s.

  Grady laughed. “How sweet.”

  “You hurt her,” Chulah growled.

  “She looks perfectly fine to me,” he trilled. His face darkened. “Unfortunately.”

  “What do you want?” Chulah asked.

  “What do I want?” he mimicked with a frown. “You both took everything I wanted. Everything I’ve dreamed of for years.”

  “Power?” Chulah guessed. His burned shoulder ached from gripping the dagger upright, but he dared not relax his stance.

  “Exactly.” He rubbed his jaw, considering. “I think I shall kill April first. Last time I stripped her powers. This time I’ll rob her of life.”

  “Do you think I’d stand by and watch? You’ll have to go through me to get to her.”

  “Chulah, don’t,” April pleaded. She faced Grady. “Take me and leave him alone.”

  Fool woman. Brave, but foolish. Chulah stepped in front of April, shielding her with his body. “Like I said. Me first.”

  “As you wish. This shouldn’t take long.” Grady snapped his fingers and a golden dagger glowed in his right hand. He lunged forward, slashing the knife in a downward arc. Chulah stepped aside at the last second, avoiding the blow. He raised his own dagger again, but halted, confused, at the empty space by his side.

  “Looking for me?” Grady’s figure emerged several yards away. The light from his aura flickered red.

  Damnation. This was going to be his toughest fight ever. Chulah stole a quick glance over his shoulder, but April was nowhere in sight. Good; hopefully she’d made it to the cabin and would call Tombi for backup. That was her best bet for staying alive and his best shot at surviving this fight.

  A whir of air brushed the left side of his head, lifting the hair from the back of his neck. Grady was near. Blindly, Chulah swung the dagger, hoping to make contact.

  A laugh sounded from behind and he swung around.

  “Close, but not close enough. You missed.” Grady’s form lit up. “I’ll make it a little fairer for you.” He smirked. “See if—”

  Chulah raced forward and jammed his dagger into...something. It wasn’t firm enough to be skin and guts, but it wasn’t the lightness of air either. A gurgling sounded a few yards away. Grady’s figure reappeared at the edge of the tree line where he leaned against an oak. “Lucky jab,” he said, his voice thin and weak. His glow oscillated from darkness to a pale light.

  “More like superior fighting skills. And bravery.”

  Grady frowned and held up a hand. “You win. Okay? Just let me go. I’ll leave you and April alone.”

  He didn’t believe him for a moment. But his father had taught him to temper honor and bravery with mercy for a defeated foe.

  Chulah stepped forward cautiously. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because you damn near killed me.” Grady’s voice was even weaker, the light from his aura dimmer.

  Chulah dropped his knife to his side. “Remember that. If I ever catch you anywhere near April, I’ll—”

  A light blazed, blinding and confusing him. Chulah jumped back, but he was too late. A force knocked him to the ground, shaking the knife loose from his hand. He started to roll, but a heavy weight pinned his back to the ground. The light dimmed and Grady stood above him, grinning, dagger drawn.

  This was it. He’d faced death many times in the past, but his luck had run out. He refused to shut his eyes. He’d meet it head-on, unblinking. With honor.

  Grady’s face crumpled in pain and he screamed once, falling to the ground. April stood before him, long hair blowing in the breeze, a bloody rock palmed in one hand.

  His avenging angel.

  Chulah hastily rose to his feet. “Are you okay, April?” She appeared to be in shock; her eyes were wide and vacant, her mouth slightly ajar. Before he could draw her into his arms, hundreds of pinpoints of light appeared low in the sky.

  Dozens of them flew lower. The lights elongated and transmuted to men and women dressed in long, flowing robes, ostentatiously decorated with gold embroidery. He recognized their queen, still dressed all in black and silver, but looking fit and composed.

  The queen held out her hand to April. “Well done,” she said in a strong musical voice. “We anticipated the betrayer would seek you out. Now hand me the rock.”

  Wordlessly, April dropped it in the queen’s hand.

  The queen gazed down at her feet, where Grady lay motionless, with only the palest of gray light outlining his form.

  “As queen of the Fae, I command that what remains of Grady’s spirit come forth now, to be captured and bound by this stone. Forever and ever. As I wish, so mote it be.”

  Grady’s form disintegrated into a thin, silver wisp of light that arose from the ground, only to be sucked into the rock. The queen calmly slipped the rock into the pocket of her robe and nodded at the stunned April. “You shall be well rewarded for your work here on earth. Even though you are less than a halfling.”

  The queen snapped her fingers and the lights went out.

  A cool trick there, binding Grady, but Chulah didn’t care for the condescending tone she used addressing April. Chulah squinted his eyes at the void before him. Where had she gone? “April?” he called out.

  No answer.

  “April?” he yelled again, louder.

  But he knew. Calling her name over and over was useless. He’d known all along this would happen one day, had tried to prepare himself for the inevitable. And yet now that the moment had arrived, his heart felt flayed and burning.

  The silence was deafening and mocked his fate. He was alone again.

  He’d lost April forever.

  Chapter 19

  The queen’s eyes drooped closed throughout the celebration feast. Despite just returning from her ordeal, certain customs had to be fulfilled, and a feast, complete with music and dancing, was expected by her subjects.

  April could almost feel sorry for her, if not for the presumptuous manner in which she’
d been whisked back to the Fae realm, without even asking if she wanted to return. She ached to be with Chulah. Not here among the chatter and glitter and all the court superficiality. She picked at the food on her plate, ignoring the fairies’ veiled glances of curiosity that came her way from up and down the long table.

  Several times this evening she’d approached the Council to request a return to land, but each time they’d put her off.

  The queen raised her wineglass once again for one of the interminable toasts. “And here’s to April for murdering the betrayer Grady.”

  Loud cheers and whistles and much glass clinking followed the remark. April winced. She wasn’t proud of what she’d done. But when it came to defending Chulah, she’d stop at nothing.

  The queen tapped her crystal glass with a silver spoon. “I am in a particularly gracious mood tonight.” She pinned April with her gaze. “So gracious, that I am willing to extend a boon to our little halfling. Or maybe I should say our little no-ling.”

  Surprised murmurs erupted from all around. April stifled irritation at the insulting name. And why not a boon? Steven had received a pouch full of diamonds for his paltry role in rescuing the queen. And she’d done so much more. Yet with no magic power, she was even below the status of halfling in their Fae caste hierarchy.

  “What shall it be, April?” the queen asked. “A position as lady-in-waiting in my court? Or perhaps a tiara of opals?”

  April stood, breaking protocol. A queen’s subject should never draw attention to herself in such a manner. Especially not while the queen was still seated. To hell with all that. All she desired was in an isolated cabin located in remote Bayou La Siryna.

  The music stopped and all eyes were upon her.

  “I want to go home, if it please you.”

  The queen’s eyes flashed like moonbeams on obsidian. “You are home,” she snapped.

  Careful, April. You can’t insult the fairy who has the power to grant your heart’s wish.

  She feigned modesty. “It’s just... I don’t belong here anymore. Grady stripped all my magic power. My Fae essence died at the untethering.” She hung her head, playing it for all it was worth. “I don’t belong with such esteemed company.”