by D. D. Miers
It was daring, more so than my escape from the Fae. I lunged forward, arms outstretched with a rage fueled by my upset at being delayed. The beast’s jaw cranked open, waiting to rip my arm off just as the tip of my dagger plunged straight through his eye socket. Again, the creature reared back, me atop it as I drove the dagger in to the hilt.
With each crying step he took, he wavered, until the weight of death sent him plummeting to the ground. I tumbled away, my breath uneven and hoarse as I lifted my arm that lay coated in a thick, viscous goo. I jumped up, my free hand snatching my pack in a hurried race forward, as far as I could get.
What felt like hours passed before I felt safe enough to slow my steps. As I turned through the last of a thorny thicket, my face ran straight into a wide chest. There was no time to scream as I bounced back a few paces. I rubbed at my sore nose, looking up to see Leander’s face. He stood just on the other side of the brush where the two edges met, a small torch in his hand.
Two different emotions hit me at once. Relief I’d encountered him and not another monstrous beast, and dread. Dread that he appeared to be alone—and defeated.
His muddy-brown eyes squinted through the darkness. “Sloane? What are you doing this far into Sonola?”
“What do you think I’m doing, you idiot? Where’s Killion? Have you found him?”
He opened his mouth, but then closed it again.
There was nothing worse than asking a simple question and seeing the person on the receiving end unable to form a response.
Instead, he asked a question of his own. “You’re alone?”
“As are you.” I glanced behind him. “Where are the others?”
He thumbed over his shoulder. “At Royfus’ site. They’ll spend a couple of nights there and return in a few days.”
Annoyance filled me because he hadn’t answered my earlier question. “Well?”
“Well, what?”
“Killion? You haven’t found any trace of him?”
He shook his head, causing the cloak covering most of his hair to fall off. “No, not yet. I’ve searched the borders and other encampments. No one has seen him, and none of his traps are set.”
“Then I’ll search the city.”
“Sloane, no.” He took a step toward me. “You can’t.”
Leander had always been a good friend to Killion, which was probably why he was trying to stop me, but his words were useless. Killion was blood, my twin, and we didn’t exist without each other.
“Why not?”
“Because you could get—”
“Hurt? Caught?” I raised my chin. “I’m aware of what could happen, Leander. But none of that, not even the risk of death, could stop me from looking for him.”
“I know that, but you’ve never, ever, been among their world. I don’t think it’s a good idea. Let me return to camp and catch a rest. In the morning, we can go together.”
“That’s not possible for me.” I shifted the strap of my bow. “I’m going tonight.”
“I haven’t slept in two days, Sloane. My blade is dull, and I don’t have any more arrows.”
I wanted to be angry with Leander. I wanted someone to blame for Killion’s situation, but that wouldn’t be fair. He and Killion always started their hunts together, but during the summer and autumn months, they’d split up. Sometimes to cover more ground, sometimes to check in and trade with other camps along the Outlands. Killion was stronger, faster, and more skilled than the rest of us combined. There was never any reason to worry about whether he’d make it back.
Leander rubbed at the black circles that had formed around his eyes. “I have to rest. Otherwise, I’ll be dead on my feet.”
“I’m not asking you to come.”
“Sloane…”
I stepped toward him and placed my palm on his chest. “I know, Leander. I know.”
Realizing my mind had been made up, he sighed. “Keep your head down and don’t talk to anyone—especially the Fae. Understand?”
“I do.”
I’d heard rumors of the humans who’d given themselves over to the Fae, hoping to benefit their lives. There were even whispers that some had chosen to physically engage with those animals. I couldn’t wrap my head around any of it. The Fae cared nothing for us, and for those who chose it, independence came at a price. Those humans, like myself, led a complicated life. The ones who’d given in thought themselves smart, but I only saw traitors. They were the lowest form of humanity in my opinion.
He tugged his cloak back over his head and nodded, “All right. I’m off, but I expect to see you—or at least hear you’re okay. That Killion’s okay. Otherwise, I’ll come to Inorah to find you myself.”
“I’ll send word once I’ve found him, but please, don’t leave Freda. She’s too fragile. If the Sonola Fae guards end up at the camp, she won’t be able to protect herself.”
“I’ll look after her.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I offered a final wave and continued toward Inorah while he traveled back toward the Outlands. If what my brother had told me was true, all I needed to do was follow the rest of the trail a few more miles to the edge of the forest. From there, I could cross straight into Inorah.
Eerie sounds began to weep around me. When the symphony of night became deafening, I heard another strange crack in the near distance. I took off, pushing as hard as I could until my lungs burned. Then, as if someone had suddenly plugged my ears with cloth, the usual hum of the forest ceased to exist, leaving behind the throaty calls of frogs and lengthy hoot of owls. None of that remained in this dimming place. I careened through with aching legs and the odd hope I’d soon reach the city.
The moment I reached the clearing of a hilly meadow, I fell to the ground and stared at the sky. My legs twitched, and sweat trickled from my brow as I gasped. I’d made it, at least this far, but now as I sat up in the tall grass and looked toward the splendor of Inorah, worry filled my chest.
It was a far expanse to travel in the open with nowhere to hide. Still, there was no better time than the dead of the night when most of the city slept. Or at least, that was what I hoped. To be honest, I didn’t know much about Inorah outside of the stories I’d heard from Killion.
Narrow windows and spires pulled toward the sky within the Fae city. Hues of purple, emerald, and royal blue decorated the peaks and facades. Across the open expanse, a meandering creek cut the city off from the outside world. Wooden bridges lit with flickering lanterns of oil—or magic— were the only connecting point.
I heaved onto my feet and started the lengthy trek through grass that reached as high as my hips. The whole time all I could think about was Killion. I hadn’t seen a trace of him on my way. Had he taken a different path? Or had something befallen him that I could never hope to reverse?
Relief flooded me when I made it across the meadow unseen, or at least untested. The bridge seemed almost inviting, and I crossed under the flickering light of the curled brass lantern above.
Mostly empty, I followed the stone streets as they circled Inorah. At the turn of the corner ahead, a set of three Sonola guards patrolled the alley. They traveled the aisle and directly in my path, the glimmer of weapons on their sides catching the firelight. I’d known the chances of encountering Fae were unavoidable, but I still couldn’t shake the fear that pressed down my throat. A childlike fear that still held onto me over a decade later. My speed and tenacity were my advantage. One or two I could fend off, but four? I’d need an act of fate.
I kept my head tucked downward and my gaze directed on the opposite wall, hoping they’d simply ignore me and continue. The sound of gurgled boisterous laughter crept from a cracked window. To my right, only a few steps ahead, a carved wooden sign with the words ‘Pots & Pints Tavern’ dangled above a metal arched doorway. I tugged down my cloak and darted into the door in the most unhurried fashion I could muster.
The stench of aged ale and boiled meat permeated through the
place. Two dozen or so humans littered the floor, creating an almost-claustrophobic feel to the relatively large room. Bumping into others seemed to be unavoidable as I shoved through the crowd until I reached the furthest corner, near the barkeep.
A robust woman with golden curls falling from her hairpin wiped a foggy pint glass and leaned over the bar. “What’ll you have, love?”
What would I have? The only lager we ever consumed was the self-brewed kind. Otherwise, we drank water. Not to mention I didn’t even know the costs. The fact I only had a small satchel of money on my side decided for me.
“Water, please.”
She studied me a moment, then smiled and pulled a small wooden cup from beneath the bar, filling it. “You’re not from ‘round here, are you?”
“Why do you say that?” I asked, taking a drink and glancing toward the window. The guards stood outside, one lighting a pipe as the others rested against the glass.
“You have that look ‘bout you. Like you’ve suffered.”
My head snapped back to meet her eyes. No one in the Outlands would have ever said such a thing. For us, to suffer was to live. Her ignorance infuriated me, but I kept my composure.
“No, I’m not.” I set down my cup, harder than I intended. “I’m actually looking for someone—my brother.”
“Did he live in Inorah?”
“No, but he traveled here—to trade.” I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to reveal so I kept my remarks short. “Where would I go looking for the merchants?”
“Human merchants or Fae?”
“Human.” Killion wouldn’t have traded with the Fae, but she didn’t need to know that.
She leaned onto her elbows, resting her chin on her palm. “I’d say the southern district, but at this hour, you’ll only find trouble there. Best to wait till morn.”
Someone yelled from across the bar. She moved down to grab their pint, leaving me to decide whether I could hide out until morning without catching attention, or risk whatever threats the southern district held. I raised my glass again, but was bumped from behind. Water splashed from the cup and soaked the arm of my jacket.
“Whoops!” The man who’d knocked into me turned and grabbed my drenched bicep. “You all right, little one?”
At nineteen, I was far from little, but my small height had the top of my head hitting just above his stomach. He looked down at me. At that moment, I realized he was a Fae. Grey eyes studied my face in a way that made me uncomfortable. The tips of his ears pointed only slightly at the end.
“It’s nothing.” I tugged away, hoping he didn’t notice the gooseflesh spreading over my skin or the way my gaze tried to look everywhere else but at him.
I’d always recognized the Sonola guards, but I’d never seen the Fae dressed in common clothes and mingling with humans. For the first time since I entered, I took a real look about the room. At least half—maybe more—of the humans in here were Fae.
I slunk back toward the wall until only a small booth with a few men seated, rested to my right. After I slipped my arms out of the sleeves, I hung it on the shelf beside me. When wet, the hide of my jacket would become uncomfortably tight. I had to dry off before that happened. I took a scarf from my bag and began wiping down the material, when a hand landed on my arm for the second time.
I tried to jerk away, but this man’s grip was like steel. Except he was no man—but another Fae.
“You…” His masculine voice bellowed from beneath a hood cloaked in darkness. “State your name and business.”
He didn’t look to be dressed as a guard, but I didn’t want to press my luck.
“I’m only traveling through.” My hand inched up my opposite arm toward the hilt of my dagger.
He glanced down, his attention focused on the crescent-moon birthmark that covered the underside of my wrist. “I said, state your business in Inorah,” he barked again.
“I told you, I’m—”
“Traveling is not an answer. Where do you come from?” He came close, too close for my comfort.
I had no time to think, only react. My blade arced out from its sheath and narrowly missed the curve of his cheek. His cackle irked me, but not so much as his smug smirk while he stepped forward, with a sudden blade in his own hand. The tip curled wickedly, a unique feature I had no time to dwell on as he came at me hard.
Drunken patrons yelled and cheered us on, as though we were actors performing. The men at the booth had stood, keeping the others away from our dual. Immediately, I was on the defensive, parrying his vicious swings with backward steps that needed to stop. I was out of my league and knew it, but he’d yet to see I was no fool attached to a single weapon.
With significant effort, I baited him, watching and studying his attacks as I did nothing but continue to avoid them. Exhaustion plagued my arms, turning my struck defenses of dagger against blade weak, until the perfect moment presented itself.
I yanked my second dagger from the side of my ribs, the jab of it behind the curved tip of his weapon unsuspected as I twisted it free of his grasp. It clattered to the ground, bringing gasps from those behind him as I lunged, wild and blind in my hate.
He was no longer some random Fae, but every Fae. Every one of them who had stormed my family’s village and stolen my childhood, my dreams, my future—and possibly Killion, too.
I ran after him, my virulent swings slicing his shirt and spraying thin lines of blood across the tavern’s floor. My fury had overrun my logical mind. There were three other Fae who could attack me at any moment, yet I couldn’t stop myself. Several pairs of hands grasped me from behind and wrenched the daggers from my grasp.
“Let me go!” I screamed while thrashing against their firm grips. Even in the face of desperate odds, I wasn’t giving up. Not even as they shoved me to the ground and discussed what to do with me. Still, I fought, until the very moment blackness descended in a swift and final kick to the head.
4
Confusion clung to me like a blanket of fog, leaving me questioning why my bedroll felt so strange and uncomfortable. Voices filtered through the haze of my mind, but they didn’t sound like Killion, Freda, or any of the others.
My eyelids parted, allowing light to filter in. I moaned at the aching throb emanating from the left side of my head. A pain so fierce I thought my skull would explode. Headaches were nothing compared to the agony that had me slamming my eyes shut.
A moment passed before my circumstances finally dawned on me. I wasn’t home. I wasn’t even on a hunt. No, I was a prisoner of the Fae. Startled, I jerked my eyes open and tried to rise, only to feel restraints hindering my movements.
I was seated upright in a chair of solid wood. My hands were lashed tightly behind my back, only adding to my discomfort. I pulled, trying to lean forward or stand up—do anything of my own volition—but I couldn’t. I was severely stuck, with no way out.
“She’s awake.”
Seconds later, the light in the room brightened to the point where my eyes became narrow slivers. It was small, not a window in sight and only a single door, farthest from where I sat. It was mostly bare, save for a bench near the door and a single bulb that hung from the center of the room.
Two men were present. The one seated on the bench seemed to be my age, or perhaps a few years older. Tall with gold circling deep amber eyes and a commanding presence. The second, whose gray hair made me wonder how many decades he had on me, stood beside him. He stepped closer, his head brushing against the exposed bulb, which swung and flickered in defense.
Both men were humans, and they were working with the Fae. My lip pulled back in a snarl. No, not just working with them—letting them hold a human female captive like a wild dog. I hated them already.
“What’s your name?” the older man asked, his pale blue eyes reminding me too much of Jeremy.
One could almost hear how tightly my teeth ground in protest. “What does it matter? I don’t have anything you need, so let me go.”
“You attac
ked one of our soldiers. What could be more suspect than that? Now, let’s try again—what’s your name?”
My lips pulled into a thin line, and I clenched my jaw. I had no reason to be so stubborn, beyond his apparent insistence I be bound to the chair. Though, I supposed I had nearly killed someone.
The man sighed as he turned away from me. “Go get it.”
The younger man hesitated, the golden hue of his eyes steady and penetrating like the sun. “Is that necessary?”
“Aedan,” the man commanded with a fierceness that brought the other to his feet. “Now.”
The moment the door shut behind the younger man, behind Aedan, I felt a shiver rip down my spine. Eyes that were once pale and unassuming on my interrogator felt vicious and demeaning as he drank me in and started over.
“One last chance before I force the answers out of you. What. Is. Your. Name?”
I stared, unable to tear my attention away even as Aedan returned. He handed the older man a small vial.
“Sloane,” I murmured, wanting to avoid whatever horrors awaited me from the object in his grasp. I could lie if I needed to, and I knew when to omit things, but if I lost my wits, there was no telling what truths they could pry from me.
“Well, that’s something.” He popped the cork top off.
I turned my face away from his hands. “What are you doing?”
“Getting answers.”
“I told you the truth.”
He raised a brow. “We’ll find out shortly.”
Figures. The Fae were nothing but selfish liars and thieves, so why wouldn’t the humans who worked for them also be? There was no way in hell I was letting him get whatever was in that bottle in my mouth. My feet scrambled for purchase, pushing backward until my arms lay pinned between the chair and the wall.
“Ronen.”
It was a single word, but Aedan’s tone made his opinion clear. He didn’t agree with what Ronen was about to do—but from the way he hadn’t moved, it was also clear he wasn’t about to stop him either.
