by D. D. Miers
Rexa stepped forward. “Hey, Witchcraft. What if you die, huh?”
"Then you'd better fucking hope another witch decides to come looking for you, and that when she gets here, she wants to be helpful." We glared at each other as the seconds ticked by until she finally broke eye contact first.
"Did you all hear the queen? It is in your best interest to ensure her survival or some of us are going to die very slowly, and I'd bet the ones who live the longest eat the ones who don't."
I scoffed and brushed the dirt off my hands. "If I do fall, don't eat the goblins or the Fae. It won't kill you, but you'll hate yourself for it." I grinned, and Komodor let out a belly laugh.
“She speaks the truth. Goblin flesh is too strong for shifter bellies. But you light Fae make a tasty snack.” He laughed again, a booming, rolling sound that filled the space and rocked a couple of the shifters back on their heels.
“It’s time, gentlemen. Are you ready, Trystan?”
My skin itched, and the corners of my brain sparked as the potion began to wear off, much sooner than I’d hoped. Tryst nodded, and I pricked my finger with my athame and pressed the blood to the protective circle, setting the first circle of runes.
Blood magic. The one power that nothing could take from me, because I didn't have to use it, the power was simply there, like a cord to an electric outlet. Several shifters had opted to take their animal forms from the start, they tossed their clothes aside, and I watched in wonder as they shifted at different paces, into wolves, a bear, and another wild cat.
The cat was sleek and sinuous, honey color with black and yellow spots. I called him forward and stroked the top of his head, mesmerized by his huge emerald eyes.
“Morgan?”
I shook off the strange sensation and smiled at him. “I think I’m just a cat-lady, Gray. There’s something so otherworldly about you when you change forms.”
He nodded, that strange, thoughtful look on his face. “I agree.” Something about the way he looked at me made my skin heat, and I cleared my throat. “Let’s call upon the king, shall we?”
Tryst took his place next to me, and Komodor went to the mirror. Niall rounded up our soldiers inside the circle, the redcaps surrounded the border. We didn't want the hunters getting out, but I sure as hell didn't want to start an incident with the Fae by accidentally trapping my goblin allies in the circle waiting for a human to free them. There was no happy ending to that.
Komodor activated the mirror, and we waited for Lothar to answer the summons. The sparking at the edges of my mind doubled and tripled in the seconds while we waited for the mirror to clear. I glanced at Gray and tossed back the potion, crushing the bottle under my heel.
“You okay?” he mouthed at me, and I shrugged.
I was not okay. My self-control was crumbling, and the enemy hadn't even shown up yet. How would I protect my people?
Tired of waiting for Lothar to acknowledge us, Tryst demanded Chthel’s head from Komodor. He yanked it out of the dirty burlap sack and threw it at the mirror, where it slid through like it was sinking into black ink.
Seconds of silence turned into a minute, then two…then there was a sound on the other side of the glass, a deep, ragged wail of rage that made our shifters press together. But the redcaps and Komodor held firm, and I stood between the mirror and my people, Caorach in my right hand, the fire-stone in my left.
"Who returned the head of my captain to me?" Lothar materialized in front of us in an instant, and I jumped. He hadn't disturbed the surface of the mirror at all, as though he'd appeared out of the darkness when I knew it was just his glamor at work.
I looked him over, Caorach pointed at the ground, the stone tucked into my hand so he couldn’t see it. “I have, Lothar Nightdragon. Your hunter was on my land without permission and attacked me. When I showed her the mercy of letting her return to you, she showed up at my fucking wedding and tried to fuck that up, too.”
Surprise crossed his face, followed by annoyance. “Chthel was not commanded to attack you.”
Tryst scoffed, but I nodded. “I know. But she was told that I was going to replace her, and she was not having that.”
“You are married then? To the pale Fae?”
I glanced at Tryst and looked back at Lothar. “No, I am not married to the power broker. My bonded mate is Grayson Xenos of the West Coast pack, and I am their queen.”
“You could have come to the Dark Court of Fairy and brought me Chthel’s remains, but you have brought me to your human-infested land instead. Why?”
Tryst stepped forward. "I name Morgana Silk, Queen of the pack, Princess of Fairy, and heir to the throne of human magic, as my champion. You are challenged, King Lothar. You have lost control of your hunters and are unfit to protect the shadows of the Dark Court.
Lothar grinned, baring his fangs. He was every bit as imposing as the Fairy stories would have painted him, with the stature and slender build of the High Fae. But his skin was the pale of old death, and his hair was a heavy dark braid run through with stark white.
“You cannot challenge me, light Fae. You have no title.”
“I could not challenge you in Fairy, Lothar. But we are in the human kingdom now, and your father gave the human domain to the goblins. Among the goblins, any may challenge the king, and the winner is the rightful bearer of the crown.”
The supercilious smile faded from Lothar’s face. “You will die, Queen of the pack.”
“Maybe, but not today, and not at your hand.”
"No, not at my hand." He flicked his wrist, and the mirror exploded, sending shards flying at us. I cut my hand and dropped to my knees, slamming my bloodied hand to the second circle of runes. They lit up as the shards struck the shield embedded in the runes, falling to the ground without doing any damage.
But while I’d been worried about the glass, I’d missed what was happening to the portal. Dark ooze poured out of the frame, droplets of the sickly stuff pulling off the mass to become helhounds, sickly looking creatures that resembled our wolves, but with corruption pouring from open sores on their bodies.
“My God, Morgan. Those are werewolves.”
“No, Honey. No, they’re helhounds. They resemble…” I paused as a pair of piercing blue eyes stared back at me. They weren’t canine, but feline, the icy twins of our own leopard. Holy shit, the shifters Lothar was wooing. He turned them into monsters.”
Something in me snapped a remnant of my past or the beast that I thought I'd suppressed, or simply my overdeveloped sense of justice. I removed the second circle of protection and stepped out of the safe zone I'd created.
“I challenge you, Lothar, on behalf of the shifters of the new world. There is no way they agreed to be turned into animals permanently. You kidnapped them and tore away their humanity. You are unfit to call yourself a Fae.”
He laughed a harsh sound that grated on my ears. "Then you don't know the Fae."
“I have fucking had it with the old guard, Lothar. I will burn through any Light or Dark High Fae necessary to end the subjugation of lesser Fae. These are my people, and you have stolen them from me. I want them back.”
I saw his hand move, but not soon enough to duck the backhand to my face. My head jerked back, and he stepped past me as though I was beneath his notice. In a flash, Caorach was swinging, and I felt the satisfying give of flesh as she bit into his upper arm.
“Don’t fucking walk away from me, Nightdragon.”
He whirled, his red, pupil-less eyes glowing. “Stupid woman.” The hounds surrounded me, and the shifters pressed forward, careful to stay just inside the massive circle. “Kill her.” He gave the command and turned away again.
Komodor fell behind his personal guard but stayed between my people and the Unseelie Fae. Redcaps fell into line at his barked commands, but the hounds were riveted on me.
Fine, I want to see if we can keep them alive, anyway.
“Here, puppy, puppy.” I pocketed the flame stone and wriggled my fingers
at the nearest of the creatures. “Come to momma.” At the last second, I had an awful idea, but I couldn’t think of anything better to do with the hounds, except to kill them all.
“My people, to me!” The shifters flooded out of the circle, all except Rexa, who stood with a sneer on her face. “Fine bitch, it’s your funeral.” Komodor understood immediately what I wanted and yelled at the redcaps to clear the way.
I ran for the circle, a score of helhounds snapping at my heels, and reopened my healed cut with Caorach as I ran into and through the circle. Rexa finally understood what was happening, but too late, as I passed her and through the outer rings, spilling my blood and reactivating the second circle of protection.
Now the hounds were trapped inside, unable to attack or obey the commands of their master, and Rexa with them. She did her best to fight them off but left with no one else to attack, they fell upon her and killed her in a matter of seconds, as Redcaps surrounded Lothar and Tryst.
From the mirror, hunters emerged, and Gray snarled the command to attack, reminding our people to take every head of every one of them. Eager to finally have an enemy to attack, Niall and the guard joined some of the redcaps who had stepped away from the dueling Fae to help.
Tryst and Lothar circled one another, just like Rexa and I had. I focused on our part of the fight, cutting down the hunters as they emerged until the portal was still again and the ground was littered with the headless corpses of the Ufasach Bas.
“Give the heads back to the Dark Court.” I tossed the first head through the portal to show them. “The doorway is still open.” I turned my attention to the men still feinting and jabbing without real intent. “Holy shit, gentlemen, are you just pretending to fight?” Tryst flashed me a dirty look. “You know, I wondered when the hunters showed up at my wedding. I couldn’t believe Lothar gave a single shit who I married or when. But there was Chthel, swearing I wouldn’t steal her man from her.
Lothar’s creepy red eyes shifted between Tryst and me. “Chthel truly tried to stop your ceremony?”
“Oh yeah, like you didn’t know. Did the two of you put this together? Tryst pretends to care that I’m being attacked and says he’ll clean up the Unseelie Fae…Lothar sends his hunters at Tryst’s behest, and then, when you get the alpha and his queen away from most of their pack, you unveil your greatest atrocity, the twisted, corrupted helhounds who were once our friends. “There’s only one thing I don’t understand…when did the Dark Fae become cowards?”
Lothar growled his rage and flew at Tryst. “You infiltrated my lands and lost me the captain of my guard. You are no ally of mine.”
Tryst was faster and stronger than Lothar knew, and in moments, the two were grappling in earnest, as Lothar tried to sink his poisonous fangs into the broker.
"Did Tryst really betray you?" Gray and Komodor stood together, watching the men wrestle on the ground, while the shifters stood to watch for more Dark Fae to come through the portal.
"No idea. But it finally got them moving, didn't it?" I did my best to keep all of my fractured attention on the duel and not look back at the hounds inside the circle, their bellies filled with the flesh of our wolf, Rexa.
The men fell away from each other and Lothar gave me his attention again. “You’ll never save the hounds. I burned away the human infection and left only the perfection of their forms.”
Niall glanced at milling canines in the circle.
"Ignore him, Niall. The Dark Fae twist all they touch. That is not what's in you. That is only his image of the beast." Tryst stood between Lothar and us in yet another surprise move. "You betrayed the contracts of the new world, Lothar Nightdragon. Your actions betray your people, and I challenge you as a free Fae who calls the shifters my allies and friends.
“Holy shit. It was you,” I breathed, and Gray tensed to pounce on our friend. “You did all this to trick Lothar into coming here and bringing the hounds onto our land. You knew he’d done this.”
“I knew you wouldn’t approve.”
"Fuck you, Tryst, you're such an asshole." I wanted to kick him in the face or break his arm, but once more, he'd reminded me that the Fae simply don't think like humans do. He'd manipulated us all to get the stolen shifters back from Lothar, instead of just telling us about them. The shifters had barely been on my periphery, pushed aside by what I thought was the more immediate problem of protecting my pack.
“I claim champion’s rights. Step aside, Tryst, you look like you’re ready for a breather.”
Caorach gave her battle cry as I stepped past him and faced Lothar myself with nothing left to say and the beginnings of a breakdown creeping up my spine. I ignored the feeling and fell into an easy defensive stance.
“Trystan, hero of the blade. How would you run a kingdom, when you could not hold your blade?” he laughed, a dry hissing sound like air leaving a tire.
I slashed out at him without warning, catching him high on his stomach. “Fight or shut up.”
He feinted left, then spun into my body, moving like a creature of the night our of some science fiction vampire movie. Looking at him, I didn’t have to wonder where the legends of fanged undead men had come from.
But he was very much alive and having passed through the portal to a mortal space, he could be killed. He forced me back past the circle, almost to the far wall of the cistern, until I was standing in the water that ran through that end.
Icy water soaked through my boots and pants, making my ankles numb. Every time I tried to push forward, he pushed me back in. The portal had come alive again, spewing more hunters and creatures that defied description. There were mantas that walked on two legs, their sickly smiles leering from the centers of their bellies. Things with tentacles, others with scorpion tails, and some with both, all flooded from the portal to attack the redcaps and shifters while Lothar pinned me down on the far side.
“Close the goddamned door, Komodor!” I shouted.
He glanced back from the porcine man-creature he’d just beheaded and scratched out the runes that held the doorway open, shutting it as a fresh batch of Unseelie were moving through, trapping them in the middle in a tangle of body parts I couldn’t even begin to recognize belonging to specific beings.
It was like a puzzle where all the pieces were wrong, and you were trying to put them together in the haze o fa nightmare.
"Give up, Lothar. Your people are dying, and you will fall."
“Not to you, Princess, not today.”
I took the hex bag Portia had left me out of my shirt and held it out to him. “Do you know that this is?”
He sniffed and curled up his lip in revulsion. “The petty magics of petty humans.”
I took a breath and released it, feeling the beast calm within me as I grew treacherously calm myself. "Here. Try it." I swung the bag at his head with all my strength, the powders inside filling his nose and throat with mortalis spell-powder. "Feel weird? A little, less? That's what it feels like to be mortal, Lothar. It is our most powerful magic, and difficult to come by. I hope you appreciate the trouble I went to for you."
I slashed out with Caorach and began to finally drive him back toward the slowing fight. Lothar stumbled, uncertain and afraid, probably for the first time in his overlong life. The powder was only meant to confuse him, and it did the job, just long enough to reach Gray and Tryst, who were fighting a boar-like creature together, the giant tusks waving from side to side as it tried to gore them and keep them from reaching its throat, the only tender part I could see on its armored hide.
“Tryst!”
He spun at the sound of his name, and his sword just came with him, slicing through the side of Lothar's neck before I think he even realized what he was doing.
Lothar paused, surprise painted on his face, and his head fell one way, while his body fell the other. As though a light switch had been flipped, the fighting stopped, every Unseelie creature instantly turning to face Tryst and waiting for a command.
“Well, that’s…�
�� Tryst began.
“Fucked up, man, it’s fucked up.” Niall panted. He clapped Tryst on the shoulder. “Congratulations, Your Highness.”
The call went up from the redcaps, “Long live the king!”
Without missing a beat, Komodor withdrew a sweaty, bloodstained parchment from his tunic and presented it to Tryst. “King Tryst, it’s time to honor your oath.”
Tryst laughed and nodded his head. “Yes, I suppose a celebration can wait…and should happen somewhere other than here.” He bit his finger to draw blood to the tip and pressed it to the bottom of the parchment, sealing his first order as king, freeing the goblins from the Unseelie Fae and proclaiming them full citizens of Fairy’s deep roads.
“Goodbye Tryst. May you find all you seek in the land of beautiful nightmares.” Gray clapped him on the shoulder. “And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll stay there.”
“He’s going to be mad for a while, huh?”
I nodded. “Yeah, I guess I should be, but I’m more worried about the helhounds. You won’t be doing that, right? Because I would have to kill you.”
"Duly noted." He glanced toward the horrific scene in the closed portal. I suppose I must free them now, hmm?" He waved his hand, and the trapped creatures fell back into the liquid nothing. He looked at all the bodies strewn on the floor and gingerly stepped between the corpses. "I suppose the first thing I'll have to do is remodel, but that shouldn't be too hard."
Without saying goodbye, he stepped through the rippling ink and disappeared. The moment he was through, Gray elongated his hands into claws and tore the frame apart, destroying what remained of the portal.
“We’ve got to go to the club.”
I patted his arm. “Yeah, someone needs to tell Geallta.”
“You can do that. I’ll take out the portal in his office. There’s no need for him to have easy access to our city. He’s got what he wanted.”
I glanced at the helhounds, most of them just lying on the dirt floor, panting and looking around at us all like regular dogs...if regular dogs had open oozing sores, black eyes, and razors for teeth.
