by D. L. Boyles
Why did she do that? If she knew, she might tell him, but she didn’t, so she remained silent. “You should let me go,” she told him.
“What is your name?”
Opening her mouth to answer, she decided not to tell him. With a snap, she closed her mouth and simply grinned mischievously at him.
“You won’t tell me, will you?” he said.
“Tell me yours, or shall I always call you The Hunter?”
His laugh, that beautiful sound that made her feel warm inside, echoed through the night. “Then we shall agree to remain a mystery to each other,” he mused.
“Let me go,” she whispered. Why she dropped her voice so low, she didn’t know, but the closer he got, the harder it was to speak. He was drawing nearer, their bodies almost touching.
“I should. I know I should let you go, little rabbit, but I cannot seem to make myself,” he admitted, a sadness in his voice. “If you should pull away from me, I will not pursue you, but…” His voice trailed off and she could see that his chest was rising and falling with a more rapid pace than before.
“But?” she asked.
“I really don’t want you to.”
Curse her with the wind and darkness, but she didn’t want to pull away any more than he did. In fact, she wanted to wrap herself around him and drown in the feel of him. Every part of her body felt alive and sang from his presence; it was a sensation she’d not felt in all her life. But this was The Hunter; someone who was sent to kill her and she was…well, she was someone who could not afford attachments and she knew with certainty that whatever this was between them would not be easily forgotten should she give in now.
With that in mind, she slowly pulled away, wishing with each inch that she could see his face, gauge his reaction in some measure. When there were three feet between them, her heart began to ache with a throbbing pain that almost propelled her forward into his embrace. But she remained strong; she’d been strong for so long she couldn’t give in now no matter how enticing he was.
He began to say something, but his image shifted a little, swirls of shadows replacing his form until he was gone. Snow gasped, reaching for him, then startled awake. Glancing around, she eyed her small camp. Buttercup, her faithful mare, snoozed easily a few feet away and the fire was a glowing pile of embers. She listened but did not hear anything out of the ordinary. Snow waited for the familiar feeling of warmth in her belly or the sensation of the tug on her heart, but nothing came. It had all been a dream. A very realistic dream, but a dream, nonetheless.
Snow rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but each time she closed her eyes, the faceless form of a cloaked man invaded her peace.
∞∞∞
The Hunter followed the woman until she reached the pass of Candes Mountains. There, she dismounted and hiked upward, her horse following close behind despite the lack of a lead rope. He was impressed by the dedication of her mount in that regard. His own horse, while well-trained and obedient, would have stopped along the way to nibble at the endless patches of berries or the thick tufts of rye grasses. Yet her horse, with head held high away from the temptations, followed dutifully without hesitation.
He trailed behind her, quiet as he always was, until she reached the open stretch of the mountain pass. It was this pass that allowed the human kingdoms to venture into the fae realm. It was once impossible for them to do, as the Briar Patch’s thick beauty prevented any such endeavor. For decades, however, the patch of briars had been receding north and to the south, The Wilds had been expanding in the same direction. In fact, the recession of the briars was what revealed the mountain pass. It, too, was once filled with the briar rose. Now, it was empty of all flora, the wide, even expanse packed into a well-traveled road between the west and east of all Shadoria.
Waiting a reasonable amount of time for her to clear the pass, The Hunter hurried forward, expecting to catch sight of her as she began her decent down the mountain trail into the kingdom of Quill, a non-court fae kingdom. He was surprised, however, to find that she had disappeared. Climbing up along some jutting rocks, he scanned the mountainside for her but found no trace at all. He sucked in the air in furious gulps, panting and flaring his nostrils; all to no avail. She had disappeared, leaving behind not a single trace of his prey. Once again, she had escaped. Though, this time, had he caught her, he would not have attempted to kill her. Not after last night’s dream.
Pulling out the small dagger from his saddle bag, he smiled down at it, remembering how he’d taken it from her. The feel of her skin and the warmth of the metal, both sensations had thrilled him. All of their banter excited him. There was not one aspect of that moment in the garden that diminished the unsettled feeling he had when he was near her. For the past seventeen years, he had struggled to forget the little rabbit who had outwitted him. Now, he was struggling to forget the woman she’d become.
He continued to look for her, to try and pick up her scent of evergreen and earth, but it was a lost cause. By nightfall, he still had found no trace of the woman, and rather than sulk about it with no one but his horse to listen, he continued his travels well into the night before stopping to rest.
In the morning, he finalized his trek to the abandoned shack where he found his colleagues already waiting.
“Any luck?” he asked in the way of a greeting.
“None,” one of his fellows answered. The other two shook their heads. Each of them wore the same cloak and black clothes. Even their horses matched. It was the way of The Hunters. The fae courts each had their own hunter and only the queen knew his identity, and the other hunters, of course. Three hunters in all. He was the Summer Hunter, a trusted member of the Summer Court, and unbeknownst to the rest of the world, the son of Queen Milagros. None of the other hunters were royalty, but with the exception of the Autumn Hunter, each was of noble birth.
“I am beginning to think the evil queen has hidden Mazin too well. She would not have struck such a deal if it were so easy.” The Spring Hunter sat back in his chair, a frustrated look on his face.
“It has been eighteen years,” the Autumn Hunter sighed.
“Seventeen,” he said. “It has been seventeen years since the evil queen stole from us and yet…”
“And yet, not only can we not find him, but no one but us cares that we are looking.” Spring’s statement deflated all of their hopes. They met here three times a year and each time, rotated which of the three would go to Wessix and do the queen’s bidding. “And what will you do if you cannot find him?” Spring asked. “Will you leave your court as the evil queen has demanded?”
He joined his companions at the table. Four chairs surrounded it, one always left empty. He stared at it a moment, wondering why it was even there. Something about it bothered him each time they met. “I’m not sure what I will do. A bargain is a bargain. Even if we do not like to admit our defeat.”
“Then we must ensure Mazin is found. If he is not, it will not be only the Summer Court that suffers. With both of Milagros’s sons missing, the Summer Court will be susceptible. The Spring Court will begin to fail, and Autumn will not be far behind.”
PART TWO
Chapter Seven
A Switch of Tactics and a Change of Heart
Audora sighed, letting her head thud backwards into the wall of the carriage.
“Cheer up, my sweets,” her mother chided, “we will be there soon enough.” Queen Isadora stretched her legs slightly in front of her. “By morning, we will be greeted happily by the Summer Court.”
“I do not understand why the fae have so many formalities and titles. The Endarian queen is the queen of the Summer Court. Why can’t she just be the Endarian queen? Instead, she has to be addressed as ‘Queen Milagros, the queen of the Summer Court of Endari.’ It is such a long title.”
Her mother waved her curiosity away. Audora had so many questions. She’d peppered her mother with them from the moment she’d suggested going to Endari. The fae wanted little to do with huma
ns, so their ways were as much a mystery to Audora as the ever-fleeting concept of true love.
The fae lived much longer lifespans than humans, so she could not fathom why her mother felt this trip was in order. Audora would not find a single male—which is how her mother insisted fae men be addressed—who wished to tie himself to a cursed princess, especially when he would outlive her to begin with. She was resigned to the reality that she might never find her true love. Thus, she only had a few months left to enjoy this life.
After everything that happened with Peter and Captain Florian, Audora had sworn off all attempts to find her true love. The maids and castle staff, even the guards, regarded her warily and the steady stream of suitors dwindled to nothing. Her mother lamented the loss of visitors more than Audora. No, Audora was resigned to her fate, her heart sadly empty and eerily accepting.
∞∞∞
The summer solstice was his mother’s favorite time of the year. Truth be told, it was the best time of year for all those of the Summer Court. On midsummer’s day, from the dawning of day to dusk, the powers of all summer fae were at their height. Unfortunately for Philip, that meant very little. His powers manifested at a young age in the form of heightened senses; more than any other fae. Some thought it a blessing, but Philip found it a curse; especially in crowds such as the party his mother was hosting today and throughout the week.
It had been several months since he’d been home. His sister, Everlynn, was only mildly interested in greeting him, but his mother was elated to have him here.
“I am glad you will be here today, Philip. There are things I need to discuss with you.”
“If it is a lecture on settling down again, I am not interested in hearing it,” he drolled.
His mother, Queen Milagros, narrowed her eyes at him in warning. He might be her son, but that did not give him leeway to be rude. Philip backpedaled. “I apologize, Mother. I think I did not get enough rest after my travels.”
“If you’d stay home once in a while,” Everlynn snapped, “you’d be less tired.” Philp ignored her, as did their mother.
“Philip, I know that you are consumed with finding your brother and with searching for…for a soul bond, but I do not think you will find either one.”
They’d gone round and round on both issues many times before. “You will not sway me. Mazin is not dead. I can feel it. Just as I can feel that she is out there.”
Queen Milagros, her light brown hair pulled up into an elaborate bun atop her head, plopped her chin onto her knuckles and flashed him a sympathetic look. “I understand, Philip. I do. Yet, I would like to see you take a more active role here at court.”
“The intrigues of court have never been a lure to me, Mother.”
“There are several females still pining after you who might argue that point,” Everlynn put in. “You seemed quite intrigued by them more than a few times.”
He rolled his eyes at her. “They pine over something they never had.”
“Not true,” Everlynn told him in a sing-song voice. “They had you several times.”
While his philandering ways were once a matter of pride for him, something he openly admitted to at one point, those days were long gone. Not since he felt the tug of something in his heart. The tug that spoke of hidden promises he longed to find. He hadn’t been with a female in…at least twenty years. Any who claimed otherwise were liars.
“Our guests will be arriving soon,” their mother said, temporarily pausing the sniping that was about to begin between him and Everlynn. “It is a day for celebrating, and we will have a full week with you home, will we not, Philip?” He nodded in answer, bowed to his mother, and followed her out of the throne room into the ballroom.
The ballroom was filled with fae from both the Summer Court and Spring Court. The Autumn Court occasionally attended, but judging by Everlynn’s foul mood, they’d not be in attendance this year. His sister was engaged to the Autumn Court’s prince and had been for nearly two years now. The prince, son of King Furrir of the Animal Court, was continually evasive about setting a wedding date. That was a fact that caused Everlynn unending distress and Philip constant amusement. He’d only been to the Autumn court twice; both times to escort his sister, and Prince Malecinth alternated between coolly distant towards his bride-to-be and extremely attentive. It was as confusing to Philip as it was to Everlynn. If anyone was guilty of pining after a male, it was her.
Today, his mother’s palace glistened with life. Flowers bursting with color filled urns and cascaded over walls and trellises. Several centaurs were in attendance and had brought his mother a large painting of the constellations. She was enraptured by it, as it was already hung on the wall of the ballroom where she stood now with a handful of centaur guests and court members admiring it.
Music filtered into the room, beginning to drown out the noise of conversations for Philip. He could hear every one: “It’s a beautiful painting, Queen Milagros.” “Oh, look, Prince Philip is here. Maybe he will have one of his private parties later…” “Princess Everlynn looks miserable. Poor thing, Prince Malecinth must have a mistress.” “The weather is beautiful.” “I cannot believe Queen Milagros invited humans.”
That last conversation caught his attention, followed by exasperated females who growled over the flocking of their males towards one human in particular. Philip glanced across the ballroom at the lovely creature who had caught the attention of every male in the room. She smiled freely at the males lingering around her and he couldn’t help but feel a pang of jealousy that he was not amongst them. That was strange.
Her blonde hair billowed in lustrous waves down to her waist and her full lips glistened with a pink sheen a skilled maid had likely applied. Her light blue dress flared into a massive skirt; her bodice encrusted with jewels that sparkled as she moved. A fan dangled from her delicate wrist, and her slender fingers were bare. Still not engaged. Still not married. That explained the crowd of males chattering away all around her. It also explained the reason for her attendance at this ball. Next to her stood a woman who was older but no less beautiful. Catching a glimpse of her here displeased him.
He had seen Princess Audora many times, had spoken with her. Yet, here in his home, she shone and sparkled, a magnet to his lonely heart. His feet carried him across the room to where the young woman stood, and the gathered males parted when they recognized who he was. Lord Chaney, always the proper chaperone, bowed and quickly made introductions. “Prince Philip, may I introduce Queen Isadora and Princess Audora of Wessix. They’ve come at your mother’s invitation and will be staying for the holiday season.”
“Queen Isadora,” he greeted formally, not wishing to give his mother any additional reason for displeasure. The last thing he wanted to do was speak to the woman who was dripping with over-exaggerated kindness, but if she was his mother’s guest, he would entertain it.
“Prince Philip. It is a pleasure to meet you. Your mother’s reputation for hosting lavish parties has not been exaggerated. Endari is a lovely kingdom and I’ve never seen such a beautifully decorated palace.”
“My mother would be pleased to hear your approval.” His words came out a little more bitter than he’d anticipated.
“We are surprised to have the opportunity to meet you,” Queen Isadora prattled on. It was unusual for him to see her this way. She was full of compliments and pretty words here, but he knew that she was dark and heartless when not in such a setting. “It was our understanding that you were away.” She glanced behind him, very clearly casting her gaze at Philip’s guards. He ignored her studious glances in their direction.
“If you would permit me, may I have the next dance with your lovely daughter?” he asked.
The queen fanned herself wildly with a pleased grin on her face. “It would be an honor. Audora would love to dance.”
The look on Audora’s face momentarily belied her mother’s insinuation but she quickly replaced it with a smile that shone like the sun. “Prince Phili
p. It would give me great pleasure.”
He took her hand and led her to the dance floor. The dance was a lively one and it did not allow for intimate conversation, but by the princess’s reaction, she did not mind in the least. Interesting – again. The Princess Audora he was used to flitted about lively through dances; though, he hadn’t been to but one of her recent balls, and he’d been occupied with…other matters. Glancing up at the dais, he caught his mother’s eye and she gave him an approving nod.
What his mother didn’t realize was that his intentions were not in the least bit pure.
Once the song ended, there was exaggerated applause from the crowd for the musicians who were by now red-faced and lightheaded. Yet, they played on and more dancing ensued.
“Would you like a drink?” he asked the princess. She nodded and answered politely, so he took her hand on his arm and led her to the other side of the ballroom. Here, the music was less prominent and the crowd much thinner. It was on the outskirts where conversations happened and where several small groups of royalty stood, clustered together in various shallow and pointless chatter that they believed were ‘intriguing conversation.’ Philip disliked all of it: the party, the people, the dancing, the music, the ‘conversations,’ and the overdressed and often overstuffed snobs who attended. Tonight, however, he would make an exception.
“I believe you have captured the attention of every eligible bachelor in the room.” He nodded towards a group of eager-looking young males. The princess blushed radiantly but said nothing. “Something tells me that you do not enjoy these events any better than I.” When she looked up at him, her eyes sparkled with a mischief that encouraged him. “It would be impossible to sneak away from such an affair, but if I were to suggest an outing that did not involve all of the pomp and fuss, what would the princess be most interested in?” He made a show of thinking, but he knew what would pique her interest before he even suggested it. “There is the city square where many actors put on plays this time of year and then there are the hot springs where people believe the mud and water have medicinal qualities. Hmm…no, that does not seem to be your fancy.” She smiled shyly at him. “We could always go riding. My mother employs only the most skilled horse trainers and the thoroughbreds she stables are the fastest in the world.”
