Consort (Noble Reckoning #1)

Prologue

Durin

Four Years Ago

“Where are we going?” I yell as I chase my friend Farris through the forest.

“You’ll see!” he calls back with his long, fiery orange hair trailing behind him like a battle flag.

Deep blue trunks blur together as we race through the trees. I swat at a pixie buzzing around my face but try not to trample the small, lesser fae creatures darting out of our path.

A knot grows in my stomach as we venture farther from our village and draw closer to the edge of the forest. Not because of the golems and ogres that often pass through the area. It’s not even because of the vicious queen, whose castle sits just beyond the trees. She’s not the biggest threat lurking in this part of the woods.

Her nobles stroll amongst these trees, through the markets and villages of fae brave enough to live in this area. I’m convinced their only duty to the queen is to flaunt their powerful magic and use the rest of us for their own violent pleasures.

The fae may be my kind, but they aren’t always the kindest. That’s especially true for the nobles.

“We just need to find Vernan!” Farris says as we get dangerously close to the forest’s edge.

I push forward, grabbing his arm to stop him once I catch up. “Vernan?” I gasp as I try to catch my breath. “Why Vernan?”

Farris grins mischievously and leans in close, his voice barely above a whisper. “I found a new trick with my magic.”

We’ve both just come into our abilities. Magic is everything to a fae. Appearances can be changed at will, and personalities can be feigned. Magic, however, can’t be faked or manipulated. It’s the ultimate test of our true selves.

Finding something new our magic can do is thrilling, no matter how small.

“Okay,” I reply. “But why are we whispering?” My heart is still pounding in my ears from our run, making it hard to hear his hushed words.

Farris’s expression turns serious as he locks eyes with me. “I can layer illusions.”

Farris has illusion magic. There are many kinds, but his lets him make any fae look like something or someone else for a short time. I’ve never heard of layering illusions, though.

“I don’t understand,” I say, growing frustrated.

We’re vulnerable here, and that makes me anxious to get home. Why couldn’t he show me this back in our village?

“Watch,” he says patiently.

He stands tall and waves his hand over us both. I don’t feel any different. But when I look down at myself, I find a little sprite with wings so delicate, they’re almost translucent. He’s given me yellow skin and a tiny skirt made of bright blue leaves.

“To match your hair,” he laughs, amused by my frown. “Covers about as much, too.”

He loves to tease me about my short hair, but not all fae prefer long, tangled manes like he does.

I glare at the green sprite with no leafy skirt to cover him. “Aren’t you afraid of attracting a real sprite? One who might be drawn to your bare cock flicking around? You could have at least made it look a little more impressive.”

He laughs and gives me a playful shove with his tiny sprite hands. “I’ll be fine. Alright, on to the next layer.”

He waves his hands, and we’re no longer cute. We’ve transformed into ugly, knee-high gremlins, ready to wreak havoc. Farris beams at me with sharp, yellow teeth that look disturbing against his gleeful smile.

I squint at him, trying to see the effects of the layering. “So, are the sprites still there?”

“Yep,” he says. “I can still see your sexy little skirt. But I can’t see us. I can always see through my own illusions, but not when I layer them like this. I’m thinking if I can’t see through it, maybe a fae with unveiling magic won’t be able to either.”

“Vernan,” I mumble, now understanding why we’re here.

Vernan is the only fae known to have unveiling magic, meaning he can see through illusions created by other fae. If Vernan can’t see through Farris’s layering, then Farris has a magic that is completely unheard of.

Farris folds his stubby gremlin arms and nods. “Vernan.”

Testing something incredible like this on a noble is risky. If Vernan figures out what he can do, he’ll take Farris straight to the queen. She’s a power-hungry ruler, coveting all powerful magic for herself. In her mind, Faerie belongs to her, so the magic of any fae is rightfully hers as well.

If she learned of his unique abilities, she would force him into the nobility and exploit his magic for her own gain. I’ve seen it happen. Our village lost its best enchanter to the queen. Instead of putting on beautiful light shows and creating interactive toys for the younglings, he’s probably cursing weapons and creating torture devices for the queen.

She wouldn’t care about Farris, just his power. Farris would belong to her.

Many fae dream of rising to noble status. But the nobles are nasty, cruel fae who I would never want to be associated with. The queen seems to embody our aggressive side, our bloodlust.

I don’t think the bloodlust is inherently bad. I’ve always thought it was meant for hunting and for giving courage and determination in battle. I think it just needs an outlet when it’s not being used as intended.

I get the most relief from crushing things in my hands, like an old pot or fallen limb. Sure, I still feel like picking a fight sometimes. But it doesn’t push me to the point of wanting to kill or be excessively violent. Most fae are content challenging each other to a fair fight. Even a simple argument can sate the bloodlust most of the time.

But the nobles take that bloodlust to the extreme. And the kind of power they possess is unmatched by us common fae.

Or the other high fae species in Faerie they prey on.

They kill for sport and never seem to be satisfied. I don’t know if they’re born with a stronger bloodlust than the rest of us or if the queen corrupts them once they join her court. It does seem as though the closer to the castle a fae lives, the more proud and hateful they are. It’s almost like the land itself infects those who live upon it.

Farris is no soldier. He and I come from a smaller, more peaceful village, hours away from the castle. We fight, we argue, but no one kills, and we don’t prey on the elves, kelpies, or shifters for fun.

“But what if Vernan can see through the layers?” I ask, concerned. I know Farris. The castle is not the place for him. “He’s a noble. He’s dangerous!”

Farris slaps me on the shoulder. “Oh, come on. My father and Vernan go way back. He’s fine.”

I shake my head, unconvinced. “That’s not good enough. If he can see through the layers, do you really think he’ll allow you to walk away?”

“I doubt he’ll be able to see each individual layer,” he says confidently. “I can’t, and they’re my own. If he does see through both, he’ll just dismiss us as foolish juveniles playing illusion games.”

I let out a frustrated groan and run a hand over my face. It feels like mine, but I’m sure I look as ridiculous as Farris does.

“Please,” he whines. “If you do this for me, I’ll help you practice your magic for the rest of the day!”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, how generous of you. What will we do? Warm our toes if we get chilly?”

My magic is nothing special. So far, I’m only able to heat things with my hands. Fae typically inherit the magic of one parent or a weakened form of both. My mother’s magic helps plants grow, so I’m pretty sure I just inherited my father’s heat abilities.

It’s handy, I guess. I can heat the water for my bath without needing to boil any on the fire. I can warm up my bed before I climb in. I can even spark the flint to start a fire. But there’s nothing really exciting about it.

Farris gives me a small smile. “Don’t worry, Durin,” he says. “You’ll find more things you can do with your magic.”

Sure, I’ll find more things I can heat up, but my father hasn’t done anything worth mentioning with his magic. Practicing would be pointless.

“No need,” I sigh. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Farris grips my shoulders gratefully. “We’ll be quick. We just need to find Vernan and see how he reacts.”

He turns and leads the way, but I secretly hope Vernan isn’t around and we get to go home. I don’t want Farris to try this alone, though. I know he won’t give up until he knows. It’s better to tackle it now than for him to sneak off by himself. Not that I could do much if things went wrong. But it doesn’t feel right to let him do it on his own.

We wander around for a while with no luck until we hear a voice carry over from the trees ahead.

“If only you could cast illusions, too,” it says. “It would make my day to see him with a wolf head.”

“You know I can’t do that,” another voice answers, making Farris perk up.

His wide eyes meet mine, and he gives a short nod. It’s Vernan.

Farris pulls me forward before I can ask what the plan is. I grab his arm, holding him back from charging into the clearing. He shoots me a look but stays where he is.

We peek through some tall glimmerleaf plants and find that it’s indeed Vernan, but he’s not alone. A powerful noble named Mitah stands to his right on a low rock with a small shifter crouched at his feet.

Mitah is tall. Taller than me and much taller than the shifter, who is on his knees, begging for his freedom. Mitah just sneers down at him with nothing but cruelty in his eyes. His icy white hair frames his twisted face, making him appear as cold as the queen he serves.

I wish Farris could make us disappear. That’s not his magic, though. We’re left cowering in the leaves, hoping to go unnoticed. I knew we should have steered clear of the nobles. They’re trouble. And I doubt these two are any exception.

“Please, let me go,” the shifter says, his shoulders slumping in resignation.

He knows his fate is likely sealed. His small frame tells me he’s no Alpha, the warriors of his kind. He doesn’t stand a chance against a noble.

“And why should I do that?” Mitah asks with a dark glint in his eyes.

“I’m a laborer of the land,” the shifter says, avoiding Mitah’s gaze. “I have work to do for the realm.”

“Bullshit,” Mitah spits. “All you shifters do is steal our resources and taint our land with your filthy presence.”

Mitah has the same view of the other species as many fae. The queen makes it clear that the fae are her chosen ones. The rest of the high fae are vermin, spoiling her perfect land. But I don’t think it’s true. The other species have their own forms of magic. They may be different than us, but they’re no less valuable.

Kelpies keep the lakes clean, providing fresh bathing and drinking water for the rest of us. Shifters hunt many of the more dangerous lesser fae, keeping the forest safer for those of us with weaker magic. I’ve never been able to understand the division between us. No one in my village seems to feel the way the nobles do. Perhaps it’s because we live farther from their influence.

But this noble doesn’t care about any of that. He feels justified simply because he’s stronger.

Without allowing the shifter to respond, Mitah raises a hand and clenches his fist. The sound of cracking bones ricochets off the trees. The small shifter cries out in pain, clutching his arm as he falls to the ground.

Mitah is a telekinetic. A truly terrifying ability in the hands of a malicious fae like him.

“That’s three. I wonder how many more bones it will take for me to feel better,” Mitah says casually.

The thought makes my stomach churn. The shifter can heal from much, but it will take time. Mitah intends to do more damage right away.

I look at Vernan, hoping he’ll intervene. But he doesn’t. He stares at the shifter with an unsettling lack of emotion. Isn’t he supposed to be a friend of Farris’s dad? Maybe he’s afraid of Mitah. Or perhaps he’s not as noble a fae as Farris thought.

The shifter’s body rises into the air. He sobs and flails his legs, still clutching his broken hand and arm. Mitah pauses to relish the fear in the shifter’s eyes.

My heart races as I scramble for a plan. But before I can come up with anything, Mitah’s hand swipes down, sending the shifter crashing to the forest floor.

More cracks ring out through the forest, and the shifter lets out a cry. Mitah laughs and announces, “Seven.”

When he lifts the shifter even higher up into the trees than before, I grab Farris’s arm and hiss, “We have to do something!”

He looks as horrified as I feel but shakes his head grimly. “There’s nothing we can do, Durin.”

I fumble desperately for some kind of solution. “What if I burn him and distract him, and you can illusion the shifter to look like some tiny thing he can’t see. Or—”

“It’s too late. Mitah would kill you before you got close enough to touch him. And I can’t illusion the shifter; he’s already too high in the air. Mitah would just drop him once he disappeared from his view, and he’d suffer just as much damage.”

“Get Vernan to stop him. Your father is his friend. He’ll listen to you!” I growl.

Farris begins to look ill. “I may have exaggerated how well my father knows him… Vernan can’t help, anyway. Mitah is too powerful. He’d just kill Vernan or threaten to tell the queen if he interfered. There really is nothing we can do, Durin,” he says. “And we need to get out of here.”

A tree nudges me with its branches, making me jump. I sometimes forget that the dryads dwell within many of these larger trees. This one seems to want us to leave, too. The thought of abandoning the helpless shifter makes me furious and sick. But the dryads are wise. I should listen to them.

I glance at Mitah and see his grin widen as the shifter struggles and cries, suspended in the air. If we truly can’t help him, I can’t bear to watch him die.

I turn to flee, to avoid seeing any more, but it catches Mitah’s attention. He looks right at us and calls out, “What are you filthy gremlins doing here? You want to watch, huh? How about you be next? I can see which of you takes longer to die.”

I jerk my eyes over to Vernan, waiting for him to discover the truth.

He studies us silently, his expression unreadable. I can’t tell if he sees two sprites or a new weapon for the queen. My fingers twitch, begging to grab Farris and run. I try to think of a safe place to hide, ignoring worries of what Mitah might do if we’re too slow.

“They’re just sprites,” Vernan says calmly. “Illusioned, but nosey as usual.”

I’m filled with so much relief, some of it spills from my eyes. Vernan has either covered for us, or Farris’s illusion worked against him. It doesn’t matter to me which it is. We’re safe.

“Who the fuck illusioned a couple of sprites?” Mitah asks, still holding his arm up toward the treetops.

“Someone bored,” Vernan drawls, clearly uninterested. He turns to us and makes a shooing motion with his hand. “Run along, sprites.”

If Vernan had caught us spying on them, Mitah might have taken Farris away and caused me trouble in the future. But the layered illusion worked.

The relief is dizzying. Or perhaps I’m dizzy from the breath I’ve been holding. I slowly let it out as I try to avoid looking at the shifter.

But his anguished cries still echo through the trees, each one making bile rise higher in my throat. I’ve grown up watching my mother bring life into things and nurture them. To save and strengthen. Watching Mitah do the opposite with an innocent life goes against everything she’s taught me.

I wish we could use this distraction to save the shifter. But Farris grabs my arm and drags me away. He’s right. I know he is. We’re helpless to save him. But that doesn’t make it feel any less wrong to leave.

As we run, I cover my ears to block out the cries that will haunt me forever. Tears fall down my dirty gremlin cheeks as we flee, but they burn the same as they would on my true fae skin.

Tales of the nobles and their cruelty are common. It’s normal to hear about the wicked things they do. But having the gruesome details unfold firsthand has been unbearable. Knowing each encounter I’ve heard about has been this real and this horrific floods my heart with hatred.

Hatred for Mitah, for the other nobles, and for the queen herself, who’s at the heart of it all.

The guilt of my weakness will gnaw at me forever. But a rage flickers to life inside me, burning away my self-pity. Mitah cannot be allowed to live. I won’t allow him to. I don’t accept that it’s impossible. I’ll find a way to grow my magic. To surpass him in power and strength and take his life in retribution for the shifter’s. After that, I’ll hunt down every fae like him.

My magic may be weak now, but it will soon become lethal. Then, I’ll unleash it on those in power. No matter the cost to myself.