How to Save a Fae (Heir of Dragons Book 2)

by J. A. Culican

  How to Save a Fae

  Heir of Dragons Book 1

  J.A. Culican

  Copyright © 2021 by J.A. Culican

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Glossary of Creatures

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Also by J.A. Culican

  Chapter 1

  Her arms had grown tired from working the bow.

  Day in and day out, the threat would rear its head. They won close victories, it was true—and for a time, they'd fool themselves into believing peace was on the horizon. But with each successive battle, the Fae incurred greater losses. A swordsman here, a fellow archer there... There seemed no end to the invaders, and eventually Minx knew there'd be no one left to fight alongside her.

  Peace was now a distant memory.

  Still, it was not a time for brooding. She stood atop the walls of the Pandling Grounds Trading Center with a handful of other Fae archers, bow drawn and eye tracing the route of a rampaging Plurn. The maniac warrior, armed with a hammer and stomping across the field with his fangs bared, intended to enter the gate and wreak havoc. If he found the way barred, he would, like so many before him, resort to bashing the stone walls with his sledge in the hopes of toppling the Trade Center's defenses and making things easier for those who came next. These wild attackers utilized the same reckless tactics without the least concern for their own safety. Like insects joined by the same hive mind, the remnants of the dark army were all too happy to sacrifice a few of their own in order to achieve victory. The cost of said victory didn't appear to be a consideration.

  Minx's gaze kept pace with his charge, and slowly exhaling she let her shot fly, the arrow arcing downward and sinking into the Plurn's chest. The warrior crashed to the ground at once, the hammer falling from his grasp and landing near the swords and other weapons his dead allies had earlier left behind. He writhed there a moment, cursing the archers with his final gasps and perished with his eyes fixed on the gunmetal skies overhead. The entire episode had played out within less than a minute—from the initial nocking of the arrow to the ruffian's final stirrings.

  She lowered the bow, sighed and looked out across the field, preparing to start the process all over again. There wasn't enough time to celebrate even these small victories; recent experience had taught her that where one such marauder appeared, another twenty or thirty were never far behind.

  “Nice shot,” offered one of the other archers. He was one of the younger ones—a good shot on the range, but lacking confidence in the face of a living, breathing enemy. The vast majority of the Fae were in exactly his position. Not since the times of the Great Dragon Wars had her people faced a threat of this kind. “How many is that today, Dragon Hunter?”

  She cringed at being so addressed—not the least because any talk of dragons roused painful memories in her. “Fifteen... maybe twenty,” she muttered, pulling another arrow from her quiver. “Keep your eye on the field,” she warned. “More will be on the way.”

  Noting her gruffness, the other archer snapped to attention and began canvassing the distance for new targets.

  Only a short while ago, this had been the site of a tremendous battle. It had been here that the Fae, along with the dragons of the Talon Range guard, had turned back the dark army led by Valry of the Wuff and Torrent, an enigmatic mage with terrifying skills in the dark arts. Despite all odds, the Fae had been victorious thanks to a late intervention on the part of the Talon Range Guard. The field remained peppered with large ditches created by erupting fireballs, and the soil still reeked with the scent of flame. That victory had been among the happiest moments of her life. Her people had been saved, and the Fae and the dragons had worked together after countless years of strife, seeming ready for reconciliation.

  And Kaleb had been with her, too.

  She had only to think about the young dragon shifter to throw herself into a frenzy of irritation and anxiety. Their acquaintance had been brief, but their days on the road had seen them become close allies. They had begun as enemies, only to reluctantly join forces and find that they were, in fact, capable partners. Toward the end, after all they'd been through, certain romantic feelings had begun to stir between the two of them.

  Or, at least, it had seemed that way. Now, so many weeks since their parting, Minx could no longer be sure that Kaleb had ever cared about her. Thoughts of him were likelier to inspire sadness and despair than their prior warmth.

  Most nights, when drifting to sleep, she would revisit that final moment they'd shared, in the glade. The memory of Kaleb's kiss still lived on her lips, and she remembered his assurances of future visits, of a reunion. Unfortunately, since that day, Minx had seen neither hide nor hair of the dragon shifter. In those moments when she was not on combat duty, patrolling the territory for waves of rogue attackers, she found herself descending into total bitterness.

  I wonder how he's doing... she wondered as she strode across the cobblestones, bow held low. Will he return soon? Does he even want to come back and see me? I wonder if he's even thought about me since he left...

  Down below, pacing near the entrance gate, was her Faelyr companion, Mau. The enormous felid stole a glance at her, and without even tapping into their telepathic connection seemed to know what was on Minx's mind. You've been up there awhile. Maybe you could use a break, Minx...

  I'm fine, the Fae huntress was quick to reply. There may be more on the way soon. They've been relentless today. She wasn't eager for more combat. Her arms and fingers ached for the constant bow work of recent days. Continuing her surveillance atop the wall made it easier for her to shift focus away from the things that really bothered her, however. She could live with sore muscles and calloused fingers. What she couldn't abide was the sadness that threatened to overtake her whenever she found herself alone with time to think.

  A medical tent had been set up in the main square, across from the barred front gate, to care for the wounded Fae warriors. During the first few days, only a few of the beds within the structure had been filled. Now, nearly half of them were occupied by her war-ravaged allies. Daily casualty numbers remained low; indeed, the High Council spent a good deal of time congratulating the territory defense forces and highlighting the fact that the enemy's death toll was far higher. But those on the High Council rarely fought on the front lines like she did, and they didn't see what the remnants of the dark army routinely did to her people.

  Just two days before, Minx had watched a young, inexperienced lancer wander too far from the walls in a survey of the surrounding woods. The sun had been setting, infusing the land with shadow and giving the enemy forces a good deal of cover. While poking around, he'd been ambushed by three Krah warriors, who'd wasted no time in beating h
im to death. Minx had managed to snipe one and to scare off the other two, but the damage had been done.

  One by one, the Fae would continue to lose warriors in exactly this fashion. Their forces would dwindle before too long, and the enemy, eventually, would overpower them. It was a mathematical certainty.

  And this time, no dragon would be by to save them.

  Over the past few weeks, she had received visions in the night from Heilo Lake, the precious site deep in Fae territory that her kind were solemnly tasked with protecting. The Lake reached out to her most often in dreams, but had also begun speaking to her in waking life. Its messages were always the same.

  The light of the lake will be snuffed out. You must gather a dragon's hide before Torrent does.

  Things would have been much easier had Minx simply accomplished the mission she'd originally been given. The delivery of a dragon's hide to the Elders would have been as neat and tidy an end to things as one could ask for. With such a hide, the warding spells around Pandling Grounds and Heilo Lake could be reinforced, protecting the Fae against aggressive outsiders. Even at that very moment, as she patrolled the wall and repelled invaders, the protective wards were failing. There was no telling how long they would last without a fresh dragon's hide, and tensions within the community were running high as a result of this gradual weakening. Sometimes, especially when her sadness got the better of her, she wished she'd simply gone along with it.

  The Fae Elders had arranged a handful of meetings with her in the weeks since the great battle had taken place. Because the previous effort had ultimately been victorious, she was not charged with any crime for allowing dragons of the Talon Range to temporarily access the Lake, but was consistently urged to live up to her title—that of Dragon Hunter—and reembark on a quest to claim a dragon's hide.

  And each time, her answer was the same.

  “No,” she'd told them numerous times. “My conscience won't allow it. After all the progress we've made with the dragons, I can't just kill one. They risked their lives to help us, and this is how you'd repay them?”

  Her refusal was understood; in fact, some even sympathized with her position and lamented the situation. The Lake and the Elders weren't going to take “no” for an answer forever, though. They wanted a hide and didn't care what relationships were destroyed in the process of procuring one. As far as they were concerned, the dragons were expendable outsiders and could never be true equals to the Fae. Their assistance in battle had been much appreciated, but it was not something any of the Elders were willing to rely on moving forward.

  “And where, I wonder, are the dragons now?” one of the Elders had asked her during a recent meeting. “Our people are still being preyed upon by remnants of the dark army, are they not? If the dragons are truly our allies, then why haven't they sent more aid? You see, Minx? You aren't thinking clearly. Your personal feelings have clouded your judgement in this matter. If the dragons were truly dependable friends, then they would come to our aid at any hour. But where are they? Scurrying around in their distant mountain, perhaps?”

  To this, Minx had been unable to give a good answer. The dragons were largely uninterested in a peaceful, cooperative relationship with the Fae. Kaleb's own father had said as much, and she recalled with annoyance the disdain many of the Talon Guard generals had felt toward her kind. They had helped turn the tide of the great battle, it was true, but their participation had amounted to little more than a fluke. They weren't allies that the Fae could rely on, and Minx knew it.

  She hoped, of course, that things would change. With Kaleb at her side, she'd seen firsthand what was possible when dragons and Fae worked together. Kaleb's optimism had driven him to appeal to the leaders of the Talon Range guard for assistance, and he, too, insisted that the two races could enjoy a worthwhile alliance.

  But where was Kaleb now? She imagined him pacing about the inside of that gorgeous mountain fortress in the Talon Range, or soaring in the skies toward far-off glades. Kaleb said a lot of things, but you haven't heard a thing from him in weeks. Maybe he changed his mind. She gulped. Or maybe... he never meant a word of it.

  “Here come a few more!” declared one of the archers, pointing out a throng of Wuffs armed with spears and swords.

  Minx shoved her thoughts aside and raised her bow.

  Taking aim, she watched the enemy approach the gate and prepared, once again, to do what she was best at.

  Chapter 2

  Her shift ended just before sundown. A new troop of archers took their place atop the wall and Minx was allowed to return home. She and Mau strolled through the Trading Center and passed into the forest, walking by old Winterlimb on their way into Pan. The trees were alive as the canopy settled into the hues of dusk, with numerous Fae chattering on their tree-side decks or from their tree-top windows. Some called out to Minx, asking about how many marauders had visited the territory that day, how many she had executed during her shift. She'd always been well-respected for her skill in battle, but recently she'd become something of a star.

  Minx ignored them all, striding on with her head low.

  Ah, you should talk to them! It would do you some good! This brooding isn't healthy, Minx. Your people are proud of you. The least you can do is stop and chat, nagged Mau as they walked along.

  I guess you couldn't tell, but I'm not exactly in a talking mood, countered the Fae huntress, letting her long, dark hair down and starting up the steps to her home. The pair ascended up the side of the tree and slipped silently into the house. Minx hurriedly lit a number of lanterns throughout the abode and then settled onto the edge of her bed, removing her armor. Setting it in the corner, along with her bow and quiver, she stretched and started barefoot into the next room, in search of something to eat. This whole thing has been exhausting, she confided, rummaging through her stores of food and putting together a simple meal. How much longer will this go on? How many more could be out there? Will it ever end?

  Of course it will. There can't be many left. The dragons took out loads of them during the battle. The ones we're seeing now are just gangs of marauders who got separated from the larger force during the retreat. Within a few days they'll stop coming by altogether. Just you watch. The Faelyr helped herself to a bit of water and then curled up next to the bed, purring. Try and relax. You know what helps me when I feel too high strung? A nap.

  Minx flinched, dropping the handful of nuts she'd funneled into her palm. Must be nice.

  The Fae huntress felt capable of just about anything in that moment.

  She felt as though she could travel to the Talon Range on foot to see Kaleb.

  She felt as though she could kill another dozen, another hundred invaders, if that was what duty called her to do.

  But the one thing she couldn't envision herself doing under the circumstances was to “relax”.

  She took a seat near her window and tried to eat, but the food was flavorless to her. Her heart ached as she considered the state of her life. She missed Kaleb, certainly, but her sadness ran far deeper than that. In the fray, her mother had died—had been murdered by Valry and her men—and she still hadn't found the time to properly mourn her. The breakneck pace of the daily sorties had prevented her from focusing on that loss, and every time she remembered that her mother had passed, it proved a rude shock.

  She turned from the window, her appetite depleted despite the physical toll of the day's work, and buried her head in her hands. Mau, noting her partner's despondence, started toward her. Hey, things are hard now, but they'll get better. The dark army has been defeated and you're a hero among the Fae. I know that things aren't perfect, but don't lose heart. You've done wonderfully up to this point. The Faelyr rubbed up against her leg in an attempt to soothe her.

  Minx grit her teeth to keep the tears at bay. My mother is gone, Mau. I let her down. And every day that I refuse to deliver a dragon's hide to the Elders, I'm letting my people down, too. It doesn't matter that they celebrate or respect me. If they kne
w the truth, they'd cast me out of here. Father hasn't been handling mother's passing very well, but he's been so wrapped up in all of this that he hasn't had time to mourn, either. And then the dragons... and Kaleb...

  There was no stopping it. The tears ran down her cheeks and she lowered her head against the table. Mau's pep talks sometimes did the job, but today she couldn't find any bright side to speak of. There was only dread, both of the present and of the future. What could she possibly look forward to each day, struggling against the relentless warriors that sought to destroy the territory? No matter how she looked at things, she couldn't envision her life getting better. There would be no bringing back her mother or any of the others that had died. She would continue to watch her fellow Fae warriors get struck down—and might even lose her own life if she wasn't careful. Mau was always at her side, and she took comfort in the Faelyr's presence, but even this close companion couldn't fill the gap in her heart completely.

  There was no getting around the feeling that she had failed at everything. There was a great irony in her being celebrated as a heroine, in her being called Dragon Hunter after everything that had happened. You're a fraud, an embarrassment. They should strip you of your title, of your rank as a Royal Fae. If they really knew how badly you messed things up, they would spit at you as you walked by.

  Her sadness turned to anger as she reflected on the great battle and the faith she'd put in the dragons. The Talon Range guard had been happy to assist during the final hour, and to reap a good deal of the praise for the victory, but they were nowhere to be found now that the Fae had to deal with the raiding remnants. She'd been naive to think the Fae and the dragons could be allies—and she'd been stupid to think that she and Kaleb could ever have a future together. You just had to go and get carried away, didn't you? You're so naive, so clueless... A dragon and a Fae? It would never have worked, so why did you risk everything for his sake?