Drake
I felt two things at the same time.
The Green trying to pull me back.
And something deep within me trying to pull me back toward Amy.
It was a deep-rooted urge I actively had to fight when it pulled me to a stop every few feet.
There were no sex fae here, I reminded myself. No fae to feed off her desires.
There would be men, though.
Human men.
Ones who maybe meant her harm, sure, but ones who simply wanted her desire for pure reasons.
And that thought set my teeth on edge.
I had no claim on her, of course.
We'd kissed. That was it.
There could have been more.
If I hadn't stopped it.
But I had to stop it.
Because I knew it was going to be important to her.
And I maybe had a feeling it would be important to me. Because it had been so long. Because she had saved me. Because I already felt bonded to her.
Then throw in the fact that I knew we were parting ways, and I knew we couldn't go there.
Even if my body was begging for it.
My body had been begging for it since I felt her climb up onto my lap to get warm in the woods. Her hand had moved innocently between my thighs, but had set my body on fire. I sat awake for hours trying to get some control over my response, only seeming to manage to do so right before she woke up, realizing the predicament, and trying to disentangle herself slowly.
Spending another night with her wrapped up over me when we weren't freezing, when it wasn't life and death, that had almost undone me.
I hadn't been able to stop my fingers from seeking out the hair that I had seen so many times - catching the light, dancing in the breeze, looking softer than anything I had ever known in my hard life.
It turned out I was right.
The tremble that moved through her set my cock to steel in an instant. Her climbing over me then demanding a kiss had been like a lifetime of fantasies coming true. And somehow better than I could have imagined.
But no matter how much I wanted her, I had to stop it. Because I had this distinct feeling that once I got her, I would never let her go.
Maybe that was just simply my feelings of gratitude talking. Maybe it was just the freedom I owed to her.
But something within me said otherwise, said it was more, said I had wanted the sunflower in the tower since the day she became a woman, that I had cared for her long beyond that as anyone would when they had saved them more than once.
I shook my head, trying to break the thoughts free as I closed in on the car dealership we had seen coming out of The Green.
She was gone, taken by the giant steel headache headed for a place named after a fruit that - from the sound of things - didn't have a single fruit tree to boast about.
Maybe humans weren't the base, stupid creatures fae often accused them of being, but their naming of their cities could use some serious thought.
The pull of The Green beckoned me forward, reached for me like the embrace of loved ones, begging me to come home.
Home.
That was maybe the only thing that kept my feet moving forward instead of turning around and trying to chase down Amy's bus.
Home.
My land.
My kind.
I was still alive, so if they had not been massacred or afflicted in some way, everyone I had once known should still be living as well.
Hope was something I thought long buried, a seed dug too deep, too far away from the warmth of the sun ever to emerge. But it sprouted then, a small, fragile thing at first that increased as the first day came to a close without someone catching up to me and dragging me back, it found its way to the surface, rooting deeper while spreading upward.
I settled down in a small cave in a cliff, reaching into the backpack Amy had picked out, looking for the almonds that should have been right there.
But they weren't.
They were buried.
Under a cap.
And gloves.
Different than the kind I would have found in The Green, thick, warm-looking.
I wasn't sure when she had slipped them past me, but as I put on the hat and gloves, feeling the warmth making a difference, taking the chill out of my bones, I felt something akin to longing within me.
Not just for sex.
Not for her touch, her kiss.
Just her company.
Just her warmth and kindness.
The way she beamed when something was new to me, when she could explain its function, when she could pull me into a world she clearly had a fondness for.
The smile of hers that lit her whole face.
The way every ounce of abundant tension slipped from her slight body as we stepped out of the veil.
I sat there for a long time eating almonds half-heartedly, taking a few of the blueberries I had found below them, assuring myself that I would feel the same way.
When I crossed into my land.
When I was reunited with loved ones who likely thought me long dead.
I would feel the relief then.
And I was on my way there.
So I slept.
And I dreamed about a field of sunflowers.
-
The next day, I traded some of my blueberries and almonds to a hungry-looking family on their way to the Light Court to carry Amy's note to her brother.
I hadn't been able to part with the ring.
I'd passed a small market where I could have sold it. I could have gotten myself changes of clothing, more food, weapons to defend myself with should I need them.
I'd felt the ring, heavy in my closed fist.
And I just couldn't do it.
It was on my sixth day of traveling that I finally started to find familiar things. A tree I had climbed in my youth, made more gnarled and rough with age, but still boasting the crude carving in the side of a Draca breathing fire. Then there was a stream where my friends and I had flirted with sprites, letting them wash our hair, run their hands all over.
Close.
I was so close that I could feel the draw again. Like the veil, but more familiar, stronger.
If the draw was still there, the chances of my friends and family being there as well was much stronger.
"I wouldn't go that way if I were you," a voice called from above me, making me stiffen, head shooting upward, seeing what I had missed when I had looked up on the tree line as I approached.
A woman.
Easy to miss at first with her lean body clad in dark browns, making her blend in with the tree limb she was standing on, arms down at her sides. Her hair, too, matched, blended in. Long and sleek, tied here and there into small braids adorned with little trinkets found along the forest - rust-colored autumnal leaves, berries, pieces of natural rope with small gemstones beaded through.
Her face was what you would expect of fae - all sharp cheekbones, and a slightly pointed chin. Her almond-shaped eyes were an almost unnatural orange-brown, much like that of the leaves in her hair.
Her hands were perhaps the only thing about her that made no real sense. The tops had strips of scars - some old and pink, some red and new. The palms looked rough and blistered. And her nails, her nails were filed to points.
My eyes trailed down, seeing things I had missed in my surprise. Like a bag wrapped around one of her thighs. Like a band wrapped around the other, various items sticking out the top.
Most of them, I would bet, were weapons of some form or another.
Everyone knew a woman on her own in The Green would be subject to more hardships than most.
You could become a victim, or you became a predator yourself.
It seemed the woman in the tree was the latter of the two.
"Who are you?"
"Smoky," she supplied easily, chin jutting out a bit in pride.
"As in tourmaline or quartz?"
"Quartz."
"Interesting," I decided, nodding. "Born or made?"
"Both," she told me, shrugging. "I grew up in The Green," she added. "But on my own."
"Someone had to have raised you." Or else she'd have fallen prey to the worst sort of experiments, the hideous types of torture we all liked to pretend didn't exist.
"I have vague memories of gnomes feeding me from folded leaves. But as soon as I could walk, I was on my own."
"Rough life," I decided, shaking my head.
"Mine," she countered. "Now that you know my life story, who are you?"
"Drake."
"Normal name," she concluded, brows drawing together.
"I guess. Anyway," I rushed on, wanting to steer the conversation away from my possible lineage. "Why shouldn't I go this way?" I asked, waving a hand that would look like it led to a swamp in a few thousand yards.
My land.
My home.
My stomach tensed at the idea that something might be wrong there.
"The Light guards are out," she informed me. "Not for nothing, but you look like trouble. They're looking for people who look like trouble."
"Any particular reason, or just on the prowl?"
"Fucked up thing," she said, shaking her head as she lowered herself down on the limb she'd been standing on, sitting on it, swinging her legs down, just barely out of my reach. I was sure that had been a calculated move on her part.
"What is?"
"A whole family of Light fae were slaughtered. Saw the bodies after myself. Mom, dad, two little girls, and a baby in a sling. All dead."
My stomach twisted painfully.
Mom.
Dad.
Two little girls.
And a - male - baby in a sling.
That sounded familiar.
Too familiar.
It sounded exactly like the family I had given the letter from Amy to carry to the Court.
"I passed them," I admitted, making her head jerk to the side slightly, making her hair slide from in front of her ear, listening more closely. "They said they were on their way to the Light court."
"They didn't even get close."
"Do they have any idea who did it?"
"They're pretty clueless. Thieves, hungry for whatever food they had. Which is a ridiculous conclusion."
"Why?"
"Because they were all skin hanging off bone. If they had food, don't you think they'd have fattened up their babes a bit for a journey in this weather? Besides, it reeked around them. Not just their blood. Not just the death. But something smokey, something arid."
"Dark," I concluded, having known the smell when I had been caught - before I'd been taken by the Winters family.
"Now, what the Dark would be doing in the Light killing babes, that is the question, don't you think?"
"Things have been stirring," I agreed with her.
"Stirring, yes. All that business with the new heir of both Courts. But not killing. Not killing on Light land. Only a fool would do that. Or only someone who thought they were unstoppable. Perhaps because they are."
She was getting way too close to the truth.
"They found a letter, though."
"A letter?" I asked, trying to keep the worry out of my voice.
"Half of it was ripped away, but it was to that long-lost Winters offspring who the new Princess put claim on."
"Why would a poor, hungry family have a letter for the Princess's mate?"
"Precisely. And why did a Dark fae take most of it after killing them?"
Oh, fuck.
"Ah, see, I knew it," Smoky concluded, nodding.
"Knew what?" I asked. Maybe snarled. My heart was pounding too hard in my ears to know what tone I used. And, what's more, I didn't care all that much.
"That you had trouble written all over you. What trouble, I wonder, could you have with the Dark and Light fae combined?"
"Wonder will be all you do," I told her, spine stiffening.
If they had the letter, they knew about Amy being in the human realm. And they would know exactly when and where to catch her if they wanted to.
Which, apparently, they did.
Enough to slaughter an innocent family for no reason. They'd have given up the letter. When faced up with the Dark Court's vicious guards and the King's fondness to drag along Redcaps wherever he went, they would give them whatever they wanted. He wanted. I had a feeling this was no longer just about Jet, just about the Prince. It was widely known that he was a callous ass, but not evil, not like his father. If there was an innocent family slain - babes and babies included - that was at the King's orders.
And if the King wanted Amy, he wouldn't let anything get in his way.
"I know these parts better than most, you know," Smoky interrupted my thoughts. "Enough that I know a swamp is usually not just a swamp. Not when the water festers even in the depths of winter."
My head snapped up at that, finding her looking down at me.
"Enough to know that some fae hide because it is the only way to ensure their safety. Fae who have funny colors in their eyes. Funny colors like yours."
"What do you want?" I ground out between clenched teeth.
"You know, I don't know yet."
"I don't make one-sided deals with anyone. Only fools do that."
"Only fools or those too desperate to have a choice. Dark and Light colliding with you at the center, Draca, I think you will make a deal with me because of the latter. The form you are clearly not in right now."
"I have nothing to give."
"I'll be the judge of that," she told me, throwing her body weight forward suddenly, making my stomach lurch as she fell. Far too far for someone so slight.
But she landed only a foot from me in a crouch, her hand to the snow, rising up slowly to full height, surprisingly tall for a female, her chin angling up so that her strange eyes met mine.
"What do you even have to offer?"
"Closed lips for one," she told me with enough pride that I believed her. "But smoky quartz, it has this ability..."
"Ability to what?"
"To steer people where they need to go. Where do you need to go, Draca?"
Not sure if I was making a deal with good or evil - or worse yet, an opportunist - I hedged my bets. "The human realm."
"Coming from the direction you came from, that took you what? Six days? Seven?" she mused rather accurately. "Because you, Drake the fire-breather, you don't know these woods very well. Anymore anyway. I heard rumors of an imprisoned Draca. Didn't put much weight in them. But I see now that was a misjudgment. Only an imprisoned, recently released fae would walk six days from here to reach the human realm."
"How far is it?" I asked, hope swelling up. Hope that I could get there before them, that they did not have the tool that was a savage fae, one raised by the woods themselves.
"We could get there in two and a half. If you don't slow me down."
If I didn't slow her down.
If I wasn't so racked with guilt, I would have found the enthusiasm to laugh at that.
"So, are you coming or not?" she asked, moving past me. No. Slamming into my shoulder as she passed.
So we walked.
And walked.
In complete and utter silence. The kind only two people so utterly used to aloneness could feel comfortable with.
In fact, had there not been reason to, I was rather confident there would have been no talking at all between us the whole trip.
But as darkness descended upon us, Smoky's hand went to her thigh holster, dragging out a ragged, mean-looking stone-knife, turning on her heel, and thrusting it outward toward a tree before I could even register her movements.
"Show yourself," she demanded, voice fierce, unyielding. "Oh, for the Queen's sake," Smoky grumbled, slipping her knife back into her thigh holster as a giant green, well, lizard crept out of an evergreen thicket, tongue flicking out, eyes mischievous. "Get that tongue back in your mouth, Sal. That is wishful thinking on your part. That thing is never getting near me again."
Caught off-guard, my lips quirked up.
It had been a while.
Since I was in The Green.
Since I had seen a woman talking to a creature that appeared to be nothing more than some egg-eating, bug-sucking amphibian.
But this was The Green after all. And things were rarely ever what they at first appeared.
As if to reinforce the thought as it appeared, the creature stopped, eyes focused on Smoky as the Change moved through it.
It had been so long since I'd seen it.
The Change.
I spent my life fighting mine, barely remembering the ease at which it used to overtake me.
Much like it took over Sal as his body morphed from giant salamander to Salamander fae in the course of mere seconds. If I had blinked, I might have missed it.
But then there he was.
Naked as the day he was born, giving Smoky that same look, made even more devilish without his amphibian skin. And the fact that his cock was now out. And that Smoky went ahead and did a once-over, eyes landing there for a long moment, her gaze full of familiarity before her eyes went to his face again.
"Am I supposed to be overcome with lust, Sal? Been there, done that."
"Need I remind you how that had you screaming, Smoke?" he asked, lips curving up even further. "Or are you too busy fucking some bastard stuck between Changing cycles?" he asked, turning his gaze on me.
In fae form, he was my equal in height, though thinner, muscles just subtle hints under the skin, as was normal for most fae. His face was angular, his hair dark, and his eyes the golden sort typical of his kind with slitted instead of rounded pupils.
"Don't try to deny it," he challenged, cockiness a dominant trait of his, apparently. "I can smell the Change on you. What are you hiding? A tail? Bushy like a bunny?" he asked, enjoying the mental image too much.
Enough, in fact, that I couldn't shake the impulse to turn, pull off my jacket and shirt, and show the plates.
"Well, fuck me, man," he said when I turned back, eyes challenging.
"I don't recommend it," Smoky broke in. When my gaze went to her, brows down, she smiled, shrugging. "Fucking him," she clarified. "Because afterward, all he does is follow you around like a little lost Brownie," she added as I shrugged back into my shirt, pulled my jacket back on, suddenly feeling a bit for the Salamander. Not because of Smoky's somewhat rough critique, but because just the moment without layers covering me made my skin smart and ache. I had gotten soft already, it seemed. And that bastard was still standing there stark naked.
Sal ignored Smoky entirely, eyes on me, head shaking slightly. "Never believed the rumors about some of you still existing. This is like if one of those humans just happened across a dinosaur."
"What do you know about humans?" Smoky asked, one brow quirked up.
To that, Sal's wicked smile came back once again. "Let one keep me as a pet for a few years," he admitted, making Smoky choke slightly. "It was a good deal. Lots of food, back rubs, nice heat lamp all the time. I was young," he added, shrugging it off. "Not all of us take too keenly to letting The Green raise us," he added, clearly meaning Smoky's life. "When I kept getting bigger and bigger, they took me off the side of the road, dropped me off near the woods, and I found my way back easily enough. But I'd bet my left eye that I know more about humans than the two of you combined."
Smoky's gaze moved to mine, head tilted in a way that seemed to say What do you think?
And, well, what I thought was simple.
I hadn't even known what a bus was until Amy explained it to me. And Smoky didn't seem the kind to have any desire to explore the human realm on her own, so comfortable with the woods that had been her family.
So if there was someone who was willing to help who could get us where we needed to be when we needed to be there, then, really, was there even a choice here?
"You got anything to wear?" I asked.
"Nah. I just go around dick-swinging all the time," he said with an eye roll as he half-turned, reaching down into the thicket he had appeared from, pulling out a pair of muddy brown hemp pants and a long off-white tunic-style shirt. I could have sworn, too, that I heard a grumble from Smoky when all his skin was finally covered up.
As if maybe hearing it as well, Sal's smile curved up again as he went back into the bushes to retrieve a satchel weighed down heavily with supplies.
"So, Smoke. You think you can fit in with the humans?" he asked, the two of them moving forward since, apparently, I was the only one who didn't know exactly where we were heading, leaving me trailing behind. "Might have to rein in the attitude a bit, don't you think?"
"I think that if you don't shut up, I will slice that tongue of yours off. Then what will you use to catch all your food?"
"Now why would you do that to yourself?" he asked, hands tucking into his front pockets, clearly not intimidated by Smoky's chilly demeanor, leaving me to wonder if it was because there was some warmth inside her, or if he was simply the kind of man who was charmed by prickly women. "'Cause you know you're gonna let me between your thighs again, Smoke."
"Why would I take you for another ride? Don't you have, like, fifteen brothers?"
To that, a hiss escaped Sal, low, threatening, a sound that made a throaty chuckle escape Smoky.
"So, where in the human realm are we heading?" she asked a while later while Sal fell into what I interpreted as a sulking silence. Or maybe it was seething. It was hard to tell.
"The Big Pear," I offered somewhat confidently.
"Apple, bud. The Big Apple," Sal corrected, turning over his shoulder to shoot me an amused look. "Where about?"
"Some museum," I told him, patting down my pockets to find my note. "By a terran..." I trailed off, not wanting to embarrass myself again if I was wrong.
"T-rex," Sal supplied. "At the Museum of Natural History. What?" he asked when Smoky sent him an odd look. "The kid who fed me crickets smuggled me on his field trip with him. Almost fucking froze to death, but I'm familiar."
"Will we be anywhere near that when we go through the veil?"
"Been a while, but if I remember correctly, we end up just across a stretch of ocean from there. A small stretch," he clarified when my shoulders slumped. "We can take a train or bus or ferry. Ferry might be preferable," he went on. "Less metal," he added even though no one asked. Coming from such an abundant tribe, he likely wasn't as comfortable with silence as we were.
"How long does a ferry take?"
"An hour or two?" he said, shrugging it off. "Not long. Are we on a tight schedule?"
"Trying to beat the Dark King, Prince, and a slew of Redcaps and other evil baddies there, so, yeah, you could say we are on a tight schedule," Smoky supplied.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. You're getting me involved with the Dark Court? What kind of mess did you two get yourselves into?"
"First, it's his problem. And I like when I am owed favors. Second, that is for him to answer if he chooses to. Which he doesn't have to."
"Shit. I like favors too, Smoke," he said, tips tipping up. "From my scoreboard, you owe me six."
"Orgasms are gifts, not favors. Nice try."
"Fine. Then I like a good adventure. And it's been a while since I saw the humans. It's always fun to see what kind of trouble they have gotten themselves into every couple decades or so."
So now I owed two fae I didn't even know favors.
But for Amy, hell, I guess it didn't matter if they wanted my firstborn. Though I had a feeling their interest in me ran more toward protection than anything. Maybe asylum. Or simply bragging rights.
"So, Smoke," Sal tried again a few hours later.
"No."
"You don't even know what I was going to say. Maybe I was going to say I like that new knife you made yourself."
"Were you?"
"No," he admitted, shrugging it off. Like water on his Salamander skin, everything seemed to roll right off this guy. "I was gonna say that it didn't exactly escape me that that is my piece of Unakite in your hair," he told her, hand reaching out, snagging one of her braids with a pink and black stone hanging from it. "Always were such a little thief," he told her, but his tone was warm, affectionate even. "You trying to attract the one, Smoke?"
"I'm saving it to trade next time it is safe to travel to Tenray Square," she countered. But the words fell flat. To me at least. I think the warm inside under all her ice wanted to have a piece of him, even if all she wanted him to think was that she used him for sex.
"Yeah, heard that place is a bit rough lately. Well, rougher than usual. You run into some trouble there?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle," she told him, but her voice had taken on an edge. Like maybe it had cost her. Like maybe it had been a close call.
"Handle, yeah. But that wasn't the question, Smoke."
There was a moment of stony silence before Smoke shot back, words lethal, "Get over me already, Sal," before grabbing a low tree limb, swinging herself up.
"Nah. Don't wait for her," Sal said, shaking his head. "She's following. Just from above." He jerked his chin up to where the limbs were swaying. High. Really, freakishly high. But, I guess, if you wanted to travel The Green without ever being seen, learning how to swing between trees was a vital skill. One she was very practiced at. "It's a careful balance," he said oddly as we fell into step with each other.
"What is?"
"Pushing her," he supplied. "You gotta do it, or you don't get dick from her. But if you push just the slightest bit too much, she flees."
"You two know each other long?"
"She returned my brother's egg to my parents a couple summers ago. Ten maybe?" he said, scrunching his face up a bit. "They were grateful enough not to limit their thanks. So anytime she needed to disappear for a bit to let some storm she created blow over, or when the winters proved too long and she was close to starving, she stopped in, rested, refueled. Can't tell you how many times I saw her show up so bloody or so skinny she was minutes from death. That woman has been through hell. Not that she would tell you what kind, mind you, but some scars speak for themselves. Like yours," he added, nodding toward my back.
"Can't even trust Light fae sometimes," I hedged.
To that, Sal snorted.
"Especially the ones who play both sides against the middle, hm?" he asked as something cracked above us, making both of us stiffen, heads jerking up. But there was no damsel in distress to save. Just a woman who had learned a long time ago to catch herself, save herself, soften her own landing. She huffed out her breath as she hauled herself up from where she'd caught a branch on her way down, resettling on a limb before disappearing again.
"She ever gonna come down?"
"When food comes out, I'd bet," he said, shrugging. "She's skinny again. Her pride won't let her say it, but she's hungry. She won't miss a meal. Judging by your bag, you got a stash. I got one too. She will come down to eat."
I mulled on that for a moment, the idea of the hard-as-stone woman above us hanging around simply because her belly was empty and her pride was too fragile to admit that aloud, that she wasn't always able to feed herself, that the long winters months could take their toll.
"So is it a girl?" Sal asked as our paced slowed, all of us seeming to sense it was time to hunker down.
"Is what a girl?"
"What would make someone like you - someone better never to bring attention to himself - take on the Dark Court, unsettle the balance between it and the Light. It's got to be a girl, right?"
Figuring he would see the truth for himself within another day or so, I shrugged. "Yeah, it's a girl."
"That all you're gonna give me? Come on, Smoke isn't exactly a great conversationalist. Someone has got to pick up the slack."
"She freed me," I admitted. "Don't even know how long I was chained up, but it was long enough that I forgot my way around The Green. And she saved me. Freed me from it. I owe her the same."
"What does the Dark Court want with her? She special?" he asked, clearly meaning skill-wise.
"From what I can tell, she doesn't have any known skills. At least none that have presented themselves yet."
"Yet? If she's got your eyes like that, she's got to be old enough."
"Her parents sent her to the human realm to age her up. It might have screwed with her internal timing. They may still be dormant."
"Possibly," he agreed, nodding. "So if it isn't some skill the King can drain to try to inject into himself, what would he want with her."
"I don't know what the deal was, but I know the Dark Prince was getting her."
"As in as a whore?" he asked, eyes going small.
It wasn't exactly a secret that the Dark Court was full of sex slaves, the most beautiful of all kinds snatched, imprisoned, made to suck and fuck their lives away for the enjoyment of men - and women - who would get off on their pain.
"If I'm not mistaken... as a wife."
"Really?" he asked, turning fully to face me. "Who was she the child of?"
"Winters," I supplied, figuring there was no way to keep it secret for long.
"They're Light."
"Only in theory."
"I'm sure she knocks your socks off and everything, but what would the Unseelie King want with some offspring of a Light family? Even if they are rich."
"Opal Winters has a way of making things work out in her favor."
"Maybe she promised that new Light Princess," Sal suggested, tone indifferent as he rubbed his palms together, smoke filtering up between before he spread them flat, fire dancing up from his skin.
Salamander fae were fire fae.
Much like me and my kind.
We controlled it.
We brought it forth.
We could warm ourselves with it in the cold months.
Or use it to burn down your village.
I could only control it in Draca form.
Sal, apparently, was not so restricted.
But even as my eyes stayed transfixed on the flames as Sal pressed his hands to some downed branches, letting them crackle and spark to life, all my mind could focus on was that possibility.
Was that Opal's grand plan?
Did she intend to use Amy's arranged - and wholly unwanted - marriage to draw Jasper out of asylum?
If Jasper was planning on breaking into the Dark Court to save his little sister, there wasn't a doubt in my mind that his woman - the Princess with burning hands - would follow.
Was that what Cass - the Unseelie King - would get out of the arrangement that seemed better for the Winters than he and his son?
Was he planning to get his daughter back?
Trap her in the dungeons like he had done to her as a baby? Try to convert her, sway her allegiances, get control of her to use her admittedly strong - and likely growing - skills to create an unstoppable kingdom, to overthrow the allegiance between the Courts?
What then?
Chaos as there had been before?
Light fae slain for simply existing? Chased down like humans chased down prey animals? A sport made of their fear? A spectacle made of their death? A waste of flesh laid out on the forest floor? Heads stuck up on walls?
It had been a long time since those days, but my great grandfather told me stories about how all the fae heads were banned from being displayed like prizes, that they were ordered to be pulled down and buried.
It wasn't just innocent fae the treaty protected either.
If it fell, the humans would be open game again.
Fae could move out from the veil, could steal, rape, pillage once again. Could - as the legends went - enslave them, force them to bring food and wares in exchange for their lives, making fae lazy, bellies fat with power.
The whole world could turn chaotic.
The humans would realize the tales from their bedtime stories were not mere myth, that fae were not little fairies flitting around on filmy wings sprinkling dust, doing no harm. No. They would see that their bedtime stories should have been horror tales told in hushed tones to try to out-scare one another. That fae were bloodthirsty, wicked, intent on playing puppet master to those deemed beneath them. Drinking up all their sexual desires to satiate their hunger, singing songs to them to enslave them as sexual toys for the rest of their lives. Men and women alike, along with those just teetering on the precipice, that plump ripeness of almost-adulthood. Those would be the most prized of all.
It would be chaos.
But, I imagined, Cass was just the kind of fae to crave that, to want to give that to his loyal disciples.
"I'm surprised Jet would go along with it, though," Sal continued as he stoked the fire enough to take the chill out of the air around us.
"Why's that?"
"Because turning his half-sister would give her rights to the throne. Both in birth order and sheer power. Jet has his own skills, I'm sure, but the tales of the Daughter of Both Courts make it sound like she is something the likes of which we haven't seen in generations. But Jet is hungry. To rule. To take over. I don't see why he would go along with this plan."
"Maybe he doesn't know about it," I suggested, but I heard the uncertainty in my own tone.
"Eh, I doubt that," he said, reaching into his satchel to produce a small pile of dried root vegetables and some nuts, putting a pile down on a swatch of fabric like a placemat, pushing it off to his side, silently inviting Smoky down from her tree.
Just seconds later, she dropped down into a squat, hand braced on the forest floor, before she dropped down on her butt, legs crossed, eating the food steadily.
He'd been right.
About her hunger.
About her pride.
About her thinness.
I had thought little of it when I first saw her, the angle making it hard to make out certain things. Like how the notches of her spine could be counted through her shirt, how her cheekbones hollowed out like that of a skeleton, like how her entire thigh could be spanned by one of my hands.
Thin.
She was painfully thin.
Breakably thin.
How her muscles managed to hold her while she swung between tree branches was beyond me.
Each time her attention was pulled to the darkened forest, Sal's hand slipped over, dropping more walnuts down beside her dwindling pile.
I lowered myself down as well, reaching into my bag to produce the giant supply of almonds, seeing Smoky's eyes go hungry even as she pushed more food into her mouth.
"Human realm," I supplied. "There is a store with lights that make your eyes ache that has rows and rows of nuts you can purchase in bags as heavy as a babe," I explained, grabbing a handful for each of them, knowing full-well that half of Sal's pile would be handed off to Smoky, but knowing it was the only way she wouldn't balk at getting more of a cut of the food.
For me, my stomach twisted and groaned, used to eating more to sustain my muscle mass, but having found myself too consumed by my homecoming, then racked with guilt to eat.
I forced myself to eat my share, refusing any of Sal's supplies.
"Why did she leave?" Smoky asked, breaking a long silence where we all sat chewing, watching the dancing flames of the fire. "Your girl," she clarified.
"She's not mine," I was quick to correct. Even as my gut squeezed with the idea that anyone could possibly think she could be - a not altogether unpleasant sensation. "She didn't want to marry Jet."
"But why?" Sal pressed. "She'd be drenched in riches. Would never know hunger, never experience powerlessness."
"Except she would be powerless to control her own life," Smoky piped in. "She would be slave to her throne, slave to her people, slave to her husband. She'd be expected - forced if she was unwilling - to bed him, bear him heirs. She would be forced to lose her sense of right and wrong, would bear witness to so much ugliness, so much cruelty, that she will become numb to it all, will become cruel herself. She will be nothing but an empty - but fruit-bearing - vessel brought to heel by a man she did not love. I can't think of a better reason to run. Even if she would have to struggle, get to know the sensation of an empty stomach. A life on her own terms would be worth all the trials she would have to endure."
"She's soft," I added as Smoky's words sank in. "Sweet. Good. She tried to save me many times before she finally freed me. She wasn't meant for the Dark Court. She wouldn't have been able to see so much pain around her. And, well, she likes humans," I added, shaking my head. I couldn't claim to have spent a lot of time with them, and while all the ones I had crossed paths with seemed friendly enough, there was nothing exceptional about them, nothing about them that made me want to spend more time in their presence.
"I've watched them," Smoky declared, making Sal's attention move to her profile while she spoke, one brow quirked up. "Through the veil," she explained. "In the Autumn, they gather up all the fallen leaves, create a pile, and then they... they jump in them," she finished, face scrunched up in an amused confusion. "They squeal and laugh, then gather them up to do it over and over again."
"I think it's charming," Sal chimed in, shrugging when Smoky's gaze went to him. "Their innocence. Frivolity. It's endearing. They pick flowers to pluck off the petals, looking for answers in them."
"In flowers?" Smoky asked, disbelieving. "Without a witch, mage, or seer?"
"They don't - almost as a rule - believe in witches, mages, or seers."
"But they believe in the wisdom of basic flowers? They do realize they are nothing but a seed brought forth through dirt, right?"
"See, Draca?" Sal asked, shooting me that laid-back grin once again. "It isn't simply my charm she is immune to; it is all charm."
"What good is charm?" Smoky grumbled. "It doesn't fill the belly or build shelters or fight off foes."
"Maybe not, but perhaps the purpose of it is to make life worth living, Smoke," Sal suggested, to which Smoky didn't have a comeback, just sat there finishing off the last of her food.
"You take the first shift," she suggested. No, demanded. Of who, I wasn't sure. "Wake me in a few hours. I will watch so you can rest."
With that, she turned her back to the fire, curled up protectively, and slipped off to sleep, belly likely full for the first time in months.
Sal and I sat in silence, his gaze mostly focused down on Smoky's sleeping form.
"She doesn't have to live like this," he murmured, half to himself. "My family have offered her a home, a bed, a full belly, guaranteed warmth and protection. There is even want in her eyes when it is offered freely, without any strings attached. But she won't do it. She won't give this up. I guess when you are raised by the woods, you become a wild thing, something that bites and scratches on instinct even to hands meaning only to feed it, love it."
"If you feed something wild for long enough, it starts to come back to you."
To that, he snorted. "She thinks I stalk her, and you think I can be more present in her life?"
"Just saying... it's a long winter. Your stores are fully stocked. Make her a deal. She likes those."
"Yeah," he agreed, shaking his head. "She does, that. Any idea what she wants from you in exchange for getting you to the veil?"
"No," I admitted.
"Oh," Sal snorted. "You poor fuck."
--
"I've got the shortest legs here, yet I am always yards ahead of you two," Smoky yelled back at us, arms spread wide.
"Give her a few solid meals, and she is like the Head of the Dark Guard," Sal chuckled, shaking his head at her.
"How far are we?" I asked, restlessness a crawling discomfort across my skin, bugs bent on driving me crazy.
Two weeks and three days.
Green time.
As for human time, I wasn't sure. A few months, probably.
She had likely just gotten her life going, just found a reason to smile, the occasion to breathe freely.
And here we were coming to tell her she wasn't safe. That her desire to see her brother was what would do her in.
I hated to do that to her, to rip her hopes and dreams away from her.
But, I figured, it was better it be me than Cass and his evil army, better it be us than them, taking her to the Dark Court only to bait her brother and his woman out of seclusion.
Jasper was useless to Cass.
He had some skills, but nothing strong enough even to drain him for.
Expendable.
That was what he would be.
A pawn to use to get his daughter to obey, to spare her love beatings and torture.
And once she was brainwashed enough, he could slit his throat and be done with him.
And Amethyst?
She would be crushed.
She would be weighted down with guilt for the rest of her life.
For being a pawn in a game she had no skills at.
For being young and beautiful enough to be used to make gains.
For being born at all.
"Before the sun even gets full in the sky," he promised, waving up above us, making me aware of the melting again, something that had completely escaped me even though, ahead of us, Smoky had rolled up her shirtsleeves, had tied up her hair.
"Judging by this," he said, waving a hand at the rapidly melting snow around us, "summer should be in full swing in the human realm. You're the only one of us who won't stick out," he added, jerking his chin to the shirt Amy had bought me.
"I am hoping we won't have to be there long," I said, reaching for the note in my pocket. "But the only day when I know where she will be is on..." I scanned the note. "Every Sunday."
If she would even be there.
If she didn't get bored of being there every weekend, wasting her freedom
If she didn't get a job, friends, a boyfriend who that would distract her from her promise.
That last one, yeah, it sent a swirling pit of jealousy through my system. I had no right, of course, to feel that way. I had no claim to her. She had no loyalty to me. She was free to meet men, spend time with them, kiss them, fall for them.
And I had no right to be put off by that.
Just because I thought highly of her, because I owed her my freedom, because we'd shared a kiss. A single kiss. I had shared more than that with women whose names I no longer remembered.
I should have been happy for her, happy that she had a chance to build something for herself, that she got to choose who put their hands on her.
My eyes moved down the note, finding myself almost smiling at the dainty, perfect script.
And I found a small passage that was not about my instructions to find her if I should need to.
Maybe this is silly. Sillier still to tell you. But when I was younger, I used to dream that your people would find you, come for you, break you out of your chains. And that you would finally be allowed to Change, fly again, stopping by my window, letting me climb up onto your back, and taking me away. Away from it all. Silly, girlish musings. And as much as those dreams made my life more tolerable, I am glad I got to save myself. I'm glad I got to save you too. And by the time you read this, I hope you are back with your kind. I hope you have felt the relief of the Change after so long, got to feel the wind cascading over your body while you fly with your loved ones. I hope you're happy. And maybe a selfish little part of me hopes you think of me every couple decades or so. I know I'll be thinking of you. - xo Amy.
"He looks sick," Smoky's voice reached to me as I stopped reading.
"He looks smitten," Sal corrected, making my head snap up, feeling oddly caught even though I hadn't done anything wrong.
"She just saved me," I insisted, trying to shrug it off.
"There's more to the story," Sal insisted. "But we are about to go through. So maybe talk about fae and dragons should be avoided. You can tell us some other time."
I had no plans on telling them anything, but kept quiet.
"So... what exactly is the plan here?" Smoky asked as I felt the little shocks over my skin letting me know we were close. "We wait until the right day and the right time, we meet with her... and what?"
I pulled to a stop, feeling the helplessness overtaking me.
What was to be done?
How could I hide her?
From the Unseelie King himself?
"The only thing that can be done," Sal said, shrugging. "We'll get them to the Light Court. They can seek asylum."
"Amy didn't want that," I recalled. "She didn't want a war to break out because of her."
They were both silent for a moment, both pondering the repercussions of a war, what that might mean Salamander fae - usually Light by allegiance - would be forced to fight, their skills being harnessed as weapons in a war bound to strip them of their lives, and then their children's lives, their grandchildren's lives. The war would last long enough to forget when it even began.
Smoky would fare worse, most likely. A woman alone in the woods with no one to protect her. Even if she knew the area better than anyone else, even if she knew how to swing from tree to tree, it wouldn't be enough. Not when an entire army of Dark fae were looking for warm bodies. Preferably unwilling ones. Because they thought it was more fun that way.
A war would be horrifying for all involved.
No one wanted the treaty to break.
No one wanted to watch their loved ones slaughtered.
No one wanted to live in utter terror every moment of their very long lives.
"Take her with you," Smoky supplied, making my head jerk toward her. "You wanted to go home anyway. It's safe. All these years and no one has been able to get inside."
"Would she be welcome? All this time without any outside interference," Smoky clarified. "Would they be okay with an outsider?"
"His family will have him back," Sal shot back at her. "After thinking the worst for who-knows how long. If he brought half a village with him, they would accept them. That's what family does," he added, voice softening a bit, knowing such concepts were beyond Smoky's understanding.
"Then it's solved," she declared, voice a little sharp to distract from the vulnerable look in her eyes. "We will fetch your girl, rush her through the woods, and deposit the both of you at the fake swamp."
With that, she turned and charged forward, only losing steam when she stood at the veil, seeming stuck, maybe - dare we even think it - afraid.
"Come on," Sal said, closing his hand around hers, and dragging her through.
I watched as they moved through, as Smoky's hand tightened on Sal's for a moment before she remembered herself, yanking away, taking a step to the side, putting distance between them.
Sal attempted not to look disappointed as he turned back to me, holding his arms out in a What are you waiting for gesture.
I stood there for just a second longer, letting this new reality sink in.
I was going home.
And I was taking Amy with me.
And if I was going to protect her, it was going to have to be forever.
I was going to have Amy with me forever.
I hardly let myself notice the way the pressure on my chest lessened before I threw myself through the veil.
I had to go get my girl.
Even if she wasn't my girl.
Yet.