Night Bringer

by Stacey Trombley

  Night Bringer

  Wicked Fae

  Stacey Trombley

  Published by Stacey Trombley, 2020.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  NIGHT BRINGER

  First edition. June 12, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Stacey Trombley.

  Written by Stacey Trombley.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen | Two weeks later

  It’s not over!!

  Only one of us can win.

  Chapter One

  I hold my hand out in front of me, and an inky black smoke swirls over my palm. It pops and sizzles, twisting and then finally—squawks. Well, it's actually more like a squeal.

  The boy behind me chuckles. I ignore him, watching my creation with wonder.

  The smoke creature's wings are sharp bone covered in smooth leathery skin. His nose pushed up into an ugly grimace.

  "Caelynn," Madam Romor chides. "You were meant to make a raven—not a bat!"

  More laughter choruses from behind me. I smile and flick an eyebrow.

  The black smoke continues to shift and dissolve beneath my charmed bat. It rises into the sky with rapid flapping until it darts behind the black leaves of the shadow maple and back. He swipes down toward a black-haired girl who screams and ducks down. He swings around and lands in my open palm.

  I shrug. "I like him."

  "It's not about liking, Caelynn. It's about following directions and completing magic with intention. If you let your magic rule you, you'll find it can take over your mind and soul."

  I roll my eyes. So dramatic.

  "That's a fail, Caelynn."

  "What?" My mouth falls open. "It was perfect! My magic was fantastic!"

  "Your magic was average, and the fact that you didn't follow directions means I have no idea if you intended to make a bat. I have to assume you simply failed at creating a raven."

  "You know that's not what happened."

  "I most definitely do not."

  I clench my fists. "Then let me try again,” I say through my teeth.

  She nods, her expression somber. "Tomorrow you can prove yourself. Today you get a zero."

  I throw my hands up. "That's not fair. I can't afford a zero!" Well, I could, if it were up to me. But my parents? They’re going to be so angry.

  "We can talk about this later. Gordon, it's your turn."

  "But—"

  "SIT, Caelynn. Your time is through."

  Gordon stands, his hands in his pocket and eyes cast to the ground.

  I wrinkle my nose, debating between sending an army of ravens to attack Madam Romor and hiding my emotions. I hate letting people see my fear. I swallow down my panic, and I sit on the black blades of grass, letting them tickle my palm as a calming distraction.

  Behind us, the Whisperwood looms. The Crumbling Mountain is only barely visible beyond them. Our magic is strong here where natural elemental power surges from the trees. There is a dirt pathway lined by shiny onyx wires leading the way. One direction takes you deep into the whispering forest, and the other takes you back to my village.

  It’s a quaint town. The most remarkable element is its proximity to the Whisperwood—my favorite place in the world. Well, besides maybe the Shadow Court Palace, but I wouldn’t know—I’ve never been. It’s a distant dream to go there, and I am so close I can taste it. To be invited to the palace by the queen herself...

  I sigh.

  I’m old enough to qualify for an invite. I’m strong enough. Smart enough.

  But not trusted, not by my parents.

  Because first I must pass the two Rites of Passage of my court, and as of now, my parents haven’t allowed it. And a zero today in communal magic lessons isn’t going to do me much good in changing their mind.

  Since it’s such a small town, our classes are small too.

  There are only eleven fae still attending classes. Seven boys, four girls. We meet in the meadow outside the Whisperwood twice a week for lessons. The rest of the time, I’m schooled by my family. Which...doesn’t always go so well. My mom hates trying to “wrangle” me, as she calls it.

  I cross my arms and watch as Gordon makes a perfect raven. It hardly moves at all, just rustles its shimmering black feathers and blinks a few times. It doesn’t even squawk.

  “Wonderful!” Madam Romor says.

  I roll my eyes.

  “Kayne. Your turn.”

  Kayne looks my way, his dark eyes shadowed with mischief. He winks before approaching our teacher. He’s only two months older than me and has already completed his first rite of passage—passing the Black Gates. He has one more before he’ll be invited to the palace to meet the queen. Then he’ll be considered a full Shadow Court fae.

  He should ace this lesson no problem.

  When he stands and holds out a hand, black magic crackles like a storm, and a little blueish-black bat drops onto his palm. I suck in an amazed breath.

  “Kayne,” Madam Romor says, her voice low. “What is this?”

  His bat darts through the students sitting on the grass, and I laugh as it tickles my ear. Kayne winks in my direction.

  “I liked him too. Wanted one of my own,” he tells Madam Romor.

  Her mouth falls wide, eyes darting to me and then back. He’s one of her favorites, despite the fact that he’s more of a trouble maker than I am. Truth be told, it’s a prized attribute among fae. Madam Romor is just less forgiving when it comes to me.

  Kayne has learned to cover his misdeeds better than I have, and his magic is stronger than average in our kingdom.

  If Madam gives me a zero, she’ll have to give Kayne one too. And she hates it. I can see it in her eyes.

  There are fifteen total courts in our world. The Shadow Court is considered one of the “lessers”—meaning we aren’t strong. We have no influence in rulemaking. We aren’t invited to important events. We don’t even have a member on the queen’s council, but the eight ruling courts get one each.

  So, any powerful fae in these lands are prized. Strong women are vulnerable. Their talents are often hidden or diminished, because for generations, the High King would marry them off to other courts, often against their will. For a time, the shadow fae stupidly obliged, thinking it would earn us back the High Court’s good graces. It started long before we were officially stripped of the title of “ruling” court which only happened a century ago, but we’ve been “unofficially” condemned by the High Courts for much longer.

  It’s been almost eight hundred years since we last had a High Court ruler and three hundred since we had a member on the council.

  The Shadow Court rulers have been desperate to earn back our place as one of the ruling courts, and so they gave the other courts whatever they wanted. Even their own citizens thinking it would help.

  It didn’t, and eventually, selling off our strongest females had a massive impact on our nation’s power. First, they called us weak and then they manipulated us into giving away what power we did hold. The most magically gifted children were born to anyone but us.

  The realm is afraid of us. Our dark power, our ability to wield secrets like a blade, so they kept us weak. Bu
t dark doesn’t mean evil. It’s a color. Shadow is simply our element. Nothing more. I’m no more evil than the fairy godmother my Nan tells me about in her human nursery rhymes.

  Madam Romor loves Kayne for his power. She hates me for my cheek—or maybe it’s because my father’s brother married off his daughter to the Glistening Court, and she thinks the same will be done to me.

  I suppose I might be bitter too, if I had to teach an adolescent I thought would inevitably go to another court, making my teachings pointless.

  But I won’t let anyone send me away. I am a shadow fae. I belong in the Shadow Court. I won’t let them sell me off like cattle—not that my father would ever do that to me.

  If there is one thing in the world I want, it’s to show them all.

  I’m not weak.

  Our court isn’t weak.

  And maybe, just maybe, they’re right to fear us.

  Chapter Two

  I slip into my cottage, head ducked low. Our home is small—only two rooms total: my parent’ room and everything else. Funny because my father is technically a count.

  This dank little cottage is a pretty sad abode from someone of his ranking. He owns a massive manor a few miles north of here. It just happens to be entirely uninhabitable, left to crumble in disrepair because we don’t have the ability to fuel it.

  Magic is our world’s currency, well kind of. It’s what makes our world run. Trade is done with magic-filled gemstones, but our magic thrums through everything, like blood through the veins of the body of our kingdom. Everything is run by magic, running water, light, farming, and even most of our structures are held together by it.

  Without magic, it all falls apart, and we... don’t have much.

  Which is why my father moved to the village where the natural magic of the Whisperwood could fuel our basic needs and make our lives easier.

  I don’t mind living more humbly than my birth suggests, but this small cottage does mean I get very little privacy. But I do have a nook in the corner with a couple shelves and a blanket on the ground. That’s my one spot I can—sometimes—“get away”. That’s where I head now, tiptoeing across the uneven stone floor.

  “How was class?” I jump at my father’s voice as he calls from my parents’ bedroom.

  “Fine,” I squeak and curl up behind my bookshelf.

  “You sure about that?” he asks, his voice lower but closer. I grab a book—any book—and hide my nose behind it.

  “Of course.”

  He marches across the room slowly. “Because you only ever run straight to your books if something bad happened.” He leans against my shelf, staring down at me.

  I bite my lip. He’s going to find out anyway. Madam Romor reports to all the parents each week. If I lie to him now, he’ll be even angrier when he does find out.

  “Madam Romor gave me a zero,” I blurt out.

  “A zero?” His eyebrows rise.

  “Yes, but it was completely ridiculous. I made a perfect bat that squawked and swooped around at will.”

  “So, why a zero then?”

  “Because she told us to make a raven.” I shrug. “I didn’t see what was so wrong about...”

  “Part of class is learning to take direction. We’ve talked about that, Cae.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  He shakes his head and walks back toward the water basin.

  Truth is, classes are entirely meaningless. There is no reason my folks should even care about high marks or low marks. It’s your rites of passage and overall reputation that affect future success. But for some reason, it really matters to them. They always act so disappointed in me when I don’t do well.

  Relieved by the surprisingly short conversation with my father, I drop the book I used to hide and pick another to actually read and drift away from reality for a while.

  Unfortunately, I lack the focus needed to get too into it. History books aren’t particularly kind to my homeland, so most shadow folk ignore them or only read those few written from our perspective. I am one of the few that is fascinated by the rest of the fae world. Actually, I’m fascinated by all worlds—even the tales my gran tells me about the human world. She’s fully fae, as are the rest of my family, but she spent several years in the human world. There’s a portal to that magicless place near the seashore and adult fae are allowed to travel there if they desire—most don’t, or if they do it’s only for a couple years out of pure curiosity. Occasionally, banishment to that world is a punishment handed down by the High Courts for dangerous criminals.

  My Nan was there for almost a decade and she was actually a famous singer in a land called Hollywood, until she faked her death and came back home. She tells me about some of the fae that still live there, never aging, always beautiful, and the humans are none-the-wiser. That’s always been hard for me to believe. They age so quickly! How could a fae stay there for forty years as the same person without humans noticing anything strange? She says celebrities get away with it, somehow.

  Anyway, I keep a few history books from my own world because that’s even more fascinating to me. I have books from the Luminescent Court, Flicker Court and Glistening Court, which is where my cousin now lives. I don’t usually think much of her since I never even met her, but being married off to another kingdom sounds...traumatizing. A betrayal of the worst kind. Did she want it? Did she fight it?

  Those three courts are considered “ruling” courts. And their perception of my homeland is less than kind.

  One day, I want to change that. One day, I want them all to see how powerful and wonderful shadow fae can be.

  One day, I want to prove them all wrong.

  I duck my head lower behind my shelf as the door to the cottage opens and closes. My mother begins talking with my father about her trip to the market. She bought some wheat to make shade bread and seeds and pears for our dinner salad.

  I fully expect my father to tell my mother about my zero, but suddenly he breaks into news about the Luminescent Court, and my ears perk up. He tells her about a ball this weekend to celebrate the choosing of the new High Heir.

  In the fae world, the High Ruler changes every one hundred years, a different court each time. The current High Queen is from the Flicker Court. The news broke last week that she’d chosen her successor to be the prince from the Luminescent Court.

  For us, in the forgotten land of shadows, it’s unexciting news. We haven’t had the opportunity to have a ruler for several hundred years. They picked another ruling court heir. Big whoop. But a ball does sound rather exciting...

  “Invitations went out yesterday.”

  My mother chuckles. “And we didn’t get one,” she says in exaggerated horror. “How scandalous!”

  “No one in the shadow realm got one.”

  There’s a pause. “Not even our Queen?” My mother’s tone is low, serious.

  “Not even the Queen of the Whisperwood,” my father agrees. For several moments, there is only shuffling as my mother prepares her supplies for our meal. That is indeed big news.

  Our Queen is beloved in the Shadow Court, but it’s well known that she isn’t magically gifted. Since power can trickle down from the high rankings to the people, this puts us at a strong disadvantage. But...there isn’t anyone better. So even if she were to abandon the royal bloodline for a new heir, it wouldn’t help.

  If even out queen was left out of a major event... it means our court is falling even further out of favor with the rest of the realm—which is saying something.

  “Is Cae home yet?” My mother asks after a while.

  The conversation turns to hushed tones, and I bite my lip. Ahh, yes, here comes the inevitable. My father whispers his tale to my mother, and my stomach sinks.

  “You’re joking,” my mother says. “Caelynn!”

  I suck in a breath.

  “Get out here now!”

  I bite my lip and stand, slinking slowly toward my parents standing by the hearth.

  “What do you have t
o say for yourself?”

  What could I say? That I’m actually one of the best in my class, so they should stop worrying about me? That grades don’t matter?

  I sigh. “I’ll do better next time.” And do the most boring, easy, unoriginal magic I can possibly manage because that’s what impresses my teacher the most.

  “Yes, you will. And... you’ll be staying home during the Yareakh festival next weekend.”

  “What?” I shout. “Are you kidding me?” Yareakh is one of the few Shadow Court festivals. It commemorates the building of the palace and the beginning of our kingdom many thousands of years ago. This little town transforms into something else entirely for days. We all wear costumes and decorate our homes with moon flowers and glowing Lumi seeds. We have a huge silver fire in the middle of the town square and play music and drink tonic and dance.

  The town match maker—someone trained to recognize mate bonds—will run around placing oil of varying colors on unmarried fae’s hands. If you find a match in color, you’re meant to kiss beneath the moonlight. It’s silly but fun. I kissed Kayne last year, and he’s been nicer to me ever since. I wonder if that’s why he winked at me today. Does he think we’ll be matched again this year?

  Rumor has it, if you’re matched with the same fae twice in a row, you’re fated mates.

  Also silly. With only a few dozen unmarried fae in the village, the chances of being matched twice aren’t that low but the chances of your mate being from the same small village is.

  “Mama,” I say low and fierce. Keeping me from the festival would be cruel and damaging to my reputation. “You can’t do that, and you know it.”

  She purses her lips, eyes set. She does know it, she’s planning to stick with it all the same. Stubborn fool.

  “Marks in school are meaningless. That celebration is everything!”

  There is a reason we choose that night to dance beneath the moonlight. Because it’s the most magic-filled night of the year for Shadow Fae. It builds our magic, helps to fuel the town for another year and can even build magic within young fae like me.