Hawk Fae
Page 18
Phantom Fae
Copyright © 2014 by Terry Spear
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Chapter 1
The phantom fae, Freya, was so startled to see Van's grandson arrive at the cemetery, and so saddened to learn that his grandfather had died, she didn't know what to think. Van hadn't been able to remove the curse the phantom fae queen had commanded that Zane, an up and coming mage, cast on her. He did so without blinking an eye. Not that he'd had any choice. Anyone who stood up to the queen and lost was cursed or worse. Poisoned, like Brett's grandfather had been, and killed slowly. Or murdered outright, like her parents. She'd wanted to kill the queen herself, but she had no powers to do so.
Freya was cursed to be a raven for most of her days, a fae for brief moments in time, missing her parents, hating the queen and the mage for what they had done, wishing someone could help her. Until she saw a ray of hope in Brett. If he could live through the mage trials.
How could he? He hadn't trained but all this week, trying to cram all that knowledge into his mind, preparing to meet the trials head on, knowing that failing to master even one spell would mean his certain death.
Could he help her? If he did manage to survive and take his grandfather's place as the queen's royal mage? It was an honor Zane sorely wanted and thought he'd get until the new phantom fae showed up in their lands. Brett was an odd sort of phantom fae, having been raised by humans, so he had strange mannerisms and a peculiar way of saying things sometimes.
She'd been touched by the sweet sentiments he'd spoken over his grandfather's grave, upset with the men for not burying Van in a coffin even though Brett had never met his grandfather. Yet he seemed to genuinely care.
But if he survived the trials, would he become the royal mage and then not help her? What if he had all that power and didn't want to give it up? Besides, aiding Freya could mean his death.
She watched him now as he stood before his grandfather's grave again, his visits frequent as if he gained solace in speaking with the dead, the ravens sitting on top of the headstones, listening. Just like she was, too, fascinated with the young man. His blue eyes were narrowed as if he was concentrating on what he had to say or upset that his grandfather was gone, his dark brown hair ruffled by the breeze.
She still couldn't believe that the dragon fae, Ena, whose father had killed Brett's parents, had given him such magnificent jeweled daggers and a sword. She must have prized him highly to give him such treasures. And it made Freya a little sad to think she had nothing to give him, should he wish to aid her, which could mean risking his very life.
"I know I've said this to you before, Grandfather, but I wish you were here to… to well, tutor me. The trial starts tomorrow and…" He took a deep breath and let it out, then paced.
Then he suddenly swung around and looked straight at Freya. He'd done that a number of times, as if he suddenly realized she was there, watching him. But never so… suddenly, as if he was truly aware it was her. He stared hard at her, and she felt her cheeks heat with embarrassment, until she remembered she was not a fae at the moment, but a raven, black, sleek, sitting on her mother's headstone, that gave her some comfort, while she watched the strange phantom fae.
"You… you are not a bird," he said all of a sudden.
She lifted her head a little in surprise. No one was to tell him who she was. How could he guess? Then she figured he was being metaphoric or something, as was a mage's way. Though he wasn't raised among their people so he might not think in that way.
She tilted her head to the side, waiting for him to reveal something else that would indicate the truth. Then she cawed at him, wanting badly to say, "No, she wasn't."
"Speak again," he urged, excited. He got nearer, but slowly, and he reminded her of a hunter, yet she didn't believe he meant to harm her. Rather, he was using caution in an attempt not to frighten her away.
"Some mages have familiars," he said, stopping some distance from her.
She cawed back at him, snorting in a raven's way.
The strange human-raised fae smiled at her!
"You will be my familiar," he said, quite sure of himself, folding his arms.
She should have flown away, to show him that he couldn't tell her what she would do.
"You understand me," he said, crouching so that she sat higher than him, as if trying to make her feel less small, safer.
He needn't have been concerned if he thought she feared his height. She'd just fly away to the stone archway that led into the cemetery so she'd be even higher than him.
"Ravens can help teach magic," he said, as if he was talking to another fae. Which he was, even if she didn't look like one right now. "You will help teach me."
She snorted again. She wasn't a raven! Well, for real. And she had no knowledge of magic.
"I… don't know how to fae travel," he said, and she realized just how vulnerable he must feel amongst their people. How strange their ways when he'd never been around them.
Coming into his fae abilities would happen when it was supposed to happen. Everyone was different. She couldn't do anything about it.
"I need you to guide me." He let out his breath. "Say anything to me."
She cawed, telling him in a raven's way that he was a daft human-raised fae and was likely to get himself killed during the first trial. And then she felt her eyes fill with tears because she couldn't help the way that upset her. It wasn't just that she hoped he could help her, but she saw something in him that called to her, a tenderness, a desire to help and she wanted to aid him in the worst way. But how could she? She couldn't.
He jumped to his feet, grinning, startling her, but she managed to settle her feathers and stay put when he said, "You think I'm daft, do you?"
She swore if a raven could faint, she nearly fell off her mother's headstone in shock.
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Hope you enjoyed the excerpt of Phantom Fae! It will be coming out in 2014.
www.terryspear.com