Chapter 3
Maddox
“The hideous briar boar is the shortest and stoutest of boars that can be found amongst the low shrubbery in the northern territories.”
— Surviving the Unseelie Lands, Author Unknown
Ihave never been as thankful for a breeze as I am since relocating my wagon to Rosehill. An apt name for this place because there are many roses and many hills.
I grabbed a rose once, and it stabbed me. How something so beautiful could be so painful is truly a mystery.
A fat bee buzzes from one rose to the next, seeming unconcerned by the thorns.
Bees. Yet another stabby thing in this land of flowers and sunshine. They make a strange buzzing sound when they fly. Although I cannot hear them at present with the constant shhh shhh shhh of my friend Ever dragging his blade across a whetstone.
“Why do you think bees have stripes?” I ask.
Ever does not glance up from his work when he responds. “I do not know.”
Bees create something called honey. Very sweet—almost too sweet.
Not the same as honeysuckle, though. That is a plant.
There are many plants in the royal garden I now call home.
My wagon fits nicely here, although it was difficult to find a place to park it without crushing a few flowers.
Not that it mattered in the end. With Biscuits around, no bloom is safe.
I glance over my shoulder toward the barrel top I have called home for the last twenty-five winters. The faded wood is a bit drab against all the color. “Do you know where the Seelie fae sell paint?”
“I do not.” Ever sets the blade and stone aside with a huff, snagging the fire poker from where it rests on my knee.
I had forgotten all about it.
Damn distracting bees.
As Ever stokes the fire, the venison still on the spit drips juice onto the coals, making them hiss.
The Seelie fae do not know how to deal with a king who chooses to cook his own meals. At first, they were offended, but now, they do not seem to mind so much.
They have never had a king like him.
Not that he looks like much of a king at present.
“Still no crown?”
His eyes narrow. “No.”
There was something called a coronation a few weeks ago. Seelie from all around gathered to watch fae in robes put the old king’s crown on Ever’s head. The tiny metal hat looked liked it belonged to a youngling. I made sure to tell him this, which earned me a fist to the gut.
They have commissioned a new crown that is meant to fit his large Unseelie head.
I will have to find something else to tease him about then.
All the Seelie in the castle do is kiss his feet and tell him that he is wonderful.
It is my duty as his closest friend to ensure all the praise does not go to his head.
Otherwise, his new crown will not fit either.
“How is everyone to know you are the most high ruler without it?” He can always count on me to ask the most important questions.
Ever drops the poker in favor of a skewer. “You should not mock your king,” he grumbles around a large bite.
“My apologies, Your Royal Majesty, most handsome and strongest in all the land.”
“Better.” He drags his sleeve across his mouth so the juices do not drip down his chin.
That is maybe the only good reason to wear a shirt.
My own chest is bare to the sun and breeze. I tried a shirt exactly once, but the fabric made me feel as if I were being strangled from all sides. Biscuits ate it, and I did not even scold him. He is a good goat. Probably the best goat to have ever lived.
Although I do wish he would stop munching on my socks. I have gone through more pairs than I can count.
I give my Biscuits a pat on the head as he enjoys his grassy breakfast beside us. He loves grass, but he also enjoys bushes. And corn. Yes, my Biscuits is a fiend for corn.
Ever eyes my Biscuits with jealousy. He probably wishes he had a goat as well. “I am surprised that you have not eaten him yet.”
I cover Biscuits’s ears so that he does not hear the foul things my supposed friend has said.
Once I am certain Ever will not continue to scare him, I lean close and whisper, “Do not listen to the mean fae. You are the best goat, and I would never eat you.” I might have once claimed to have eaten a goat, but that was before I knew what one truly looked like.
Now that I know, I can say for a fact that there are no goats on the Unseelie side of the canyon.
Thank goodness for that. The wolves would surely fill their bellies with my Biscuits.
Wolves will eat just about anything. Deer. Unicorns. Fae.
Ever nudges my boot with his. “You never answered my question.”
I think back to our conversation but cannot remember any question. My friends can become irritated by the way my mind wanders. I have tried to keep it from traveling so far to no avail. There is much to see in this land; focusing can be difficult.
“Before you started on about the bees, I asked if you would like to accompany Kerris and me to the quarry today.”
I am not certain what a quarry is, but I am always interested in discovering new places.
“Will Nia Quill be there?” If Kerris Dawn is going, there is a good chance.
They are cousins, after all. We have no cousins—or siblings, for that matter, because Unseelie are only allowed one child.
Seelie can have as many children as they choose.
The other day, I met a woman with four. Four!
Ever’s lips press flat. They are always doing that when I mention his mate’s cousin. “I believe she and Nolan Graham will be coming, yes.”
Nolan.
What sort of name is that? He does not deserve Nia Quill’s attention, let alone her affection.
What does she see in him, anyway? He is short.
All the Seelie fae are. Nia is tall for a Seelie female.
Does she not wish to have a strong male to protect her?
Nolan looks as if he would blow over in a stiff breeze.
“Kerris says that her cousin is going to propose to him on her birthday,” he adds. Probably as revenge for the crown comment.
His words make me want to stuff my fingers in my ears so that I cannot hear them.
The anniversary of her birth is not until next month. No one knows the future. Maybe I will be the one she proposes to. Maybe today is the day she realizes I would make a far better match than the Nolan.
“Can you not order the Nolan to guard something instead?” Like a rock at the bottom of the canyon. I would be more than happy to show him the quickest way to reach it.
“Kerris says he is on holiday.”
“What is ‘holiday’?”
“A Seelie word for long break.”
“A long break from guarding?” We were charged with guarding our clan and the bridge for years. We did not get long breaks. “Do you remember the time someone shot Gryffin in the foot, and he was still expected to work his shift at the bridge?” Where was his holiday?
“You mean the time you shot Gryffin in the foot?”
“We do not know who the culprit was. There were many arrows that day.” It was me who shot my friend in the foot. In my defense, the accident was not entirely my fault.
Ever tosses the empty skewer into the fire with a groan. “The quarry, Maddox.”
Ah, yes. The quarry. “I will join you at this quarry.”
Nodding, he hands me a skewer of my own.
This is how we share most of our meals: out in the garden, beneath the persistent sun, where the Seelie cannot be offended by our diet.
I have tasted their vegetables but have yet to find one that is quite as pleasing as fresh venison.
Some of the fruits are almost palatable, so Ever and I eat those when we are required to dine with them.
“You will need a change of clothes,” he says. “There is water for swimming.”
Nia Quill will be swimming? Why did he not mention this first? Then I would not have had to consider my response. She is sure to choose me once she sees how impressive my—
He bumps my knee with his. “You must wear trousers.”
“While swimming?” That seems like an awful waste of perfectly clean trousers. I swipe a smudge from the dark wool. Mostly clean.
“The Seelie wear swimming costumes.”
Costumes for swimming? What will they think of next? “Why?”
He shrugs. “Modesty.”
Then how is Nia to know that I am a far more impressive male than the Nolan? I will have to think on this predicament. “What time do we leave?”
“Noon.”
This does not give me much time to prepare.
No matter. I have a spare pair of trousers in my wagon.
I finish my breakfast and wash up in the garden’s fountain before bringing my mount to meet Kerris and Ever in front of the castle.
Biscuits trots along after me like the faithful goat he is, but I do not think a quarry is the place for him. Besides, he makes my unicorn, Dusk, skittish. I carry him back to the wagon and tie his collar to the rope attached to the wheel.
“Be a good goat.”
He bleats his agreement. My Biscuits is very intelligent.
By the time I return to the front of the castle, the king and queen are already sitting atop his unicorn with ten Seelie guards waiting on their own tiny horses behind them.
It seems a silly thing to have so many small males trailing behind my friend in order to “protect” him.
If trouble were to arise, Ever would be the one saving them.
I have tried to explain this, but the guards do not listen to me.
I stuff my foot into the saddle’s stirrup and lift onto my unicorn’s back. Dusk snorts, displeased to be moved from the lush gardens. His stomach has become round with Seelie grass. If he is not careful, he is going to become too heavy to walk.
He is not used to the abundance on this side of the canyon.
None of us are. It is a wonder the other Unseelie have not abandoned our land for theirs.
I thought perhaps our friend Gryffin would come, but he has chosen to remain in the shadows.
I have tried to tell him how happy the sunshine makes me, but I fear that is what keeps him away.
Gryffin Hew would not know happiness if it shot him in the foot.
As it turns out, “quarry” is the Seelie word for lake.
This one is large and very blue, with a platform extending from the rocky shore into the water.
Some fae leap from the platform while others jump from the bone-white cliff butting against the lake’s eastern shore.
They scream the whole way down, even the males.
Seelie fae are everywhere in all states of undress. The males have removed their shirts, and so have some of the females. Their skin ranges from ivory to dark brown and every shade in between. So many colors of hair as well. Ever and I stand out like wolves in a field of wildflowers.
Seelie males leave much to be desired, but their females are intriguing.
None as much as the one with curls the color of dandelion fluff who is stretched atop a blanket, letting the sun touch her skin the way my hands long to.
Nia Quill. Fae of my heart.
She is not swathed in one of her beautiful silk gowns but wearing a band of peach across her top and a matching pair of underthings covering her bottom.
Barely.
This day might be my favorite yet.
That is until the terrible Nolan drops onto her blanket and pushes his mouth against hers.
Perhaps I will drown him. It would not take more than a handful of stones in his pockets to keep him at the bottom of this quarry.
“You are too obvious,” Ever says from the ground as he takes the reins from my hand.
What is the point in hiding my affection? It is important to let those around you know how you feel about them. “Says the man whose heart is in his eyes.”
I dismount and tie Dusk next to Nyx. He will be happy with the grass here.
“Kerris is my mate,” Ever counters.
“Maybe one day, Nia Quill will want to be mine.” If luck chooses to be on my side.
Kerris Dawn skips toward her cousin, while Ever carries a basket of Seelie food and a blanket for his mate.
Nia smiles and waves, but the Nolan does not give me more than a passing glance, as if I am no threat to him. This is good. He does not realize how easily my blade can slip between his ribs and carve out his heart.
The guards meant to “protect” the king and queen stand like a bunch of sweaty shrubs at our backs. Their leather clothes do not make sense in this heat. Another thing I have told them that they have chosen to ignore.
The terrible Nolan finally looks at me, his small face scrunching like someone kneed him in the bollocks. “Nice boots.”
“Thank you. I made them myself.”
“You made them?” he scoffs.
Since when is the ability to create a cause for mockery? Nia nudges his twig of an arm with a disapproving glare.
“That is right,” I say. “They are made from the hide of a small briar boar. A runt, by the looks of him. About your size.”
It is Ever’s turn to snort.
The Nolan’s face loses its smarmy smile. “You green—”
Nia leaps to her feet, then pulls the fuming Nolan to his. “Let’s get in.”
My heart sinks as I watch them venture toward the water, where the other Seelie splash and play like younglings. I fall down next to Ever and Kerris to loosen the laces on my boots.
“I think your boots are lovely,” Kerris Dawn says.
Although I return her smile, there is less happiness inside me than before. “Thank you.” So do I.
There are many shops in the city that sell boots, but none of them are large enough for my feet. Not that I would trade these boots when they have served me so well.
Kerris Dawn swipes a hand across her brow. “It’s so warm, isn’t it?”
Every day is warm in the Seelie lands. At night, I sleep with my door open to keep from roasting alive. Something I could never do in our lands.
Ever offers to accompany her to the water. For some reason, this makes her frown.
“I promise not to throw you in,” he says under his breath.
A strange sentiment, but one that brings the smile back to her face.
They leave me, joining Nia and the terrible Nolan at the lake’s edge.
This is not a personal slight, I tell myself.
I have two legs and can join as well. Except, all those in the water seem to be in pairs.
What must it be like to be not one but two?
Maybe there will be a day soon when it is my turn to find out.