Chapter 12
Maddox
“Lethan Wolves have been known to stalk their prey for great distances before going for the kill.”
— Surviving the Unseelie Lands, Author Unknown
Although there are many fine garments in this Madame Ella’s shop, none would suit an Unseelie female, imaginary or not.
The skirts are too long and could get caught beneath their boots, making them treacherous when fleeing danger.
Then there is the fabric: it is too thin and whimsical, like the Seelie fae themselves, not suitable for the sturdy and shapeless garments worn by our females.
Our land is much cooler and very damp, forever on the verge or in the throes of winter.
These silks would not fare well in the rain or snow.
However, this shop carries more than dresses. So many items line the shelves, like belts made of good, sturdy leather, and tiny slippers for tiny Seelie feet. How does anyone choose? There are so many things to see all in one room.
Like this. What is this? It looks like a small hat, but there is a spot for a second head, which makes no sense.
Nia comes around the corner and freezes next to one of the many headless bodies made of wood. They are terrifying, the makings of a nightmare. I would not have liked to enter this place as a youngling, that is for certain.
“Why is there a bra on your head?” she snaps.
What is a bra?
She snatches the hat away, her cheeks as pink as the fabric draped over a long table of boxes with more garments inside. By the far wall, one of the headless bodies wears a similar hat, not on its head (it has none), but over its large chest.
“It is for breasts.” The design makes far more sense now. Females have two of those.
“What else would it be for?” Nia chokes, stuffing the bra back into the box I retrieved it from. “Have you never seen a bra?”
“Unseelie females use cloth to band their chests.” They have no need for this bra.
“Same concept, but these are prettier.” Her silvery blue skirts shimmer as she rounds the table and continues to a till resting on a stone countertop.
Does this mean Nia Quill is wearing such lace beneath her beautiful dress?
This excursion was a mistake.
Almost as big of a mistake as my misunderstanding of number eight on her list.
Who knew females could spill seeds as well? This is not something I have heard discussed around the hunting fires. The other males boast about many feats of mating but never this “finishing.”
I am lucky that Nia has been so thorough in her explanations.
If only there was a real female I could use them on.
Perhaps once she and her Nolan are mated, my heart will be released from her grasp, and I can find someone of my own. If that happens, I will be sure to do exactly as Nia has advised to win my female’s affection.
A Seelie with lines at the corners of her eyes emerges from a door near the back of the shop. Her hair is as red as a robin’s breast, as is the matching paint on her lips. Rings and bangles glisten from her hands when she claps them together.
Why does she wear so many? Are they for sale as well?
“Nia, dearest, you’ve been holding out on me. Who is this handsome fellow?” she asks.
My chest inflates with pride. “Did you hear that, Nia Quill?” I nudge Nia’s shoulder in case she missed the words. “This female thinks I am handsome.”
Nia knocks her hip against mine, an unexpectedly familiar gesture. “I heard. Madame Ella, this is our king’s friend, Maddox Finch.”
Her words pierce my chest, and all the pride seeps right back out.
She referred to me as the king’s friend. Not hers.
This should not matter. I will not let it. Besides, I do not wish to only be her friend.
I desire more.
So much more.
“A pleasure.” Madame Ella holds out her hand, and I take it for a strong shake, but her grip is as limp as a dead squirrel. For some reason, this makes the female laugh. Her gaze swings to where Nia watches with a frown. “Please don’t tell me you’ve come to buy this man a shirt.”
“Not at all. I’m here to pick up the dress for my birthday.”
A birthday that is quickly approaching. Soon, Nia will be gone for good. Her Nolan will not approve of her helping me after they are mated. I will be all on my own. Like always.
Madame’s sparkly wrist bangles jingle together like tiny bells. “Thank goodness. It would be such a shame to cover all of that up.” She winks at me before sauntering behind a curtain at the back of the shop.
My pride has been restored. I turn to my escort, offering her a smile. “Did you hear that, Nia Quill? Such a shame.”
“Don’t let it go to your head.”
I am afraid it is too late. It is a good thing I do not wear a crown like Ever; it would surely not fit after this day.
Would you look at this? There is more lace at the corner of the counter. How do they create all these patterns in such delicate fabric? The material looks as if it should be stiff, but it is not. This lace is as soft as silk.
Nia swipes for the lace, but I am faster. “Put those down, Maddox.”
They are shaped like the bottoms Nia wore at the quarry. “Perhaps I will buy my female these as a gift.”
Her smile twists into something unsettling, like a wolf going for the kill. “You should.” She pats her hip. “They’re very comfortable.”
Is she saying . . .
Shit.
Why did I think I could play such a game with a fae as experienced as Nia Quill? She would surely think me foolish and na?ve if she knew the truth of my inexperience.
When she asked me if I had mated with a female, I wanted to crawl beneath my wagon and die. Instead, I did what I do best, and I told another terrible lie.
Once I have composed myself, I toss the lace onto the counter where Madame Ella has set a large white box. “I would like these.”
“I doubt they’ll fit you,” she says with another tinkling laugh. “Although if you’d like to try them on just to be sure, the fitting room is right over there.”
If Nia can tease me, then I should be allowed to tease her right back. “What do you think, Nia Quill? Will you let me know if they are suitable?”
Nia’s husky laughter stirs my blood. “In your dreams, maybe.”
How does she know that I dream of her? This is most inconvenient.
Her small hand curls around my arm where it rests on the counter. “Don’t look so horrified. It was a joke.” To Madame, she says, “He’s buying them for his lady friend across The Divide.”
“Your lady friend is a very lucky woman, indeed,” Madame says, dropping the garment into a small bag.
I bite back a grimace as I take out a handful of coins and set them on the countertop. “Is this enough?” I have never bought anything from this shop, so I have no reference for how much this item would cost.
Madame’s jewels and bangles drag along the counter as she counts the coins. The lines around her eyes deepen with her smile. “It’s enough to cover the knickers and the dress.”
“Then you may keep them.”
Nia’s curls sway when she shakes her head. “You’re not buying my dress.”
It is too late. I already have. “Consider it a thank you for all your help.” Help I do not need but which I would never willingly give up. These last few days have been some of the happiest in my life, all because they have been spent with Nia Quill.
I return to my wagon with my heart full of turmoil. The more time I spend in Nia’s company, the harder it will be to say goodbye. But I am too selfish to stop. I am a male drowning in lies, and she is my air. I do not wish to die of suffocation.
Everett waits in the garden, his elbows propped on his knees as he rests in the chair I fixed.
Biscuits eyes him warily from the stoop behind my wagon, guarding his mangled boot with narrowed blue eyes.
Part of me delights in knowing Biscuits is not enamored with my friend; he prefers my company. This is not usually the case.
“Your scowl is deeper than usual, O great and powerful king.” Ever was never one for many smiles, but this expression is one he has not worn since he thought his mate was lost to him.
Ever drops his hands and pushes to his feet. “I am in distress, Maddox.”
And he claims I am dramatic. “Fret not. Your mate will return soon.” Kerris Dawn is only visiting her brother in another Seelie town. He should be happy that he has someone to love him. Unlike me, who has only Biscuits.
My goat is a wonderful pet, but I do not wish to share my bed with him.
“Not about her absence. Although that does distress me greatly.”
Does this mean he is coming to me about a problem? This is most unusual. Normally, Gryffin is the one who helps solve our woes. I cannot mess this up, or he will never ask me for advice again. “What is it?” From the way his mouth flattens, it must be serious.
I can be serious.
Ever drags a hand through his black hair, which is shorter than mine. He did not always wear his hair that way. When we were younglings—
No, Maddox. You must focus. Ever is in need and came to you.
Do not concern yourself with his hair.
“Will you accompany me to the bridge?” he says. “I think it would be best to show you.”
“Of course.” I would follow Ever anywhere. He is a good leader and an even better friend. I will not make the same mistake I have in the past and abandon him in his time of need.
We visit the stables to retrieve our mounts.
Once outside the castle gates, our unicorns slowly trod the cobbled streets toward the canyon.
The city ends abruptly, with the road giving up well before the world’s end.
A path of dirt stretches toward where the old bridge once stood.
All that is left are the charred remains still clinging to the canyon ledge.
Beside the old bridge hangs the temporary one, made of large trees and cobbled together with bits of planks from our forests.
He does not stop at this bridge but continues to where the Seelie are building a new one. It is meant to be twice as wide as the original and promises to be quite the feat of engineering—if it is ever finished. They have been working on it since before Ever received his crown.
Stacks of wooden planks wait next to crates of nails and tools. Everything necessary to build a bridge except for one very important thing.
“Where are the laborers?” The last time I rode past, there were at least twenty Seelie hammering and sawing and calling out orders. The foreman is the most intimidating Seelie male I have ever met. He shouted at me for picking up one of the saws, even though I was only looking at it.
All our saws are rusted. This one was so shiny, I could see my reflection in its silver surface.
Since there is no sign of the foreman now, I slide off Dusk’s back and head straight for the tools.
There are so many. Look at this hammer; the handle is so smooth.
My own hammer only has half a handle. Think of all the things I could build with this one.
Not that I would abandon mine, but it might be nice to have two.
Ever dismounts as well, patting Nyx’s mane when the unicorn stamps his foot with a snort. “They have been sent home for the day.”
The sun is still high in the sky. Why would they go so early? Do Seelie always work such short hours? Is this the “holiday” that Ever mentioned the other day? No wonder it is taking them forever to finish the bridge.
He takes the hammer from my hand, returning it to the toolbox. “There has been an attack. We think.”
I twist away from the tools to find him scowling once more. “You think?”
He waves for me to follow him to the edge of the worksite. There, he kneels and points to a section of dirt next to a stack of planks where blood speckles the ground.
I crouch down next to him. “This is all the blood you have found?”
A nod.
This could be from a nosebleed or an accident with one of the saws. I have bled more than this by snagging myself on thorns during a hunt. Thorns can catch you unawares at the most inopportune moments. Like this one time I—
Focus, dammit. Dirt. Blood. “Why do you think it was an attack and not an accident?” There were more than a few of those when we were assembling the temporary bridge.
“The three lead architects have gone missing. They were not at work yesterday or this morning. When the foreman went to check their homes, they were not there either. They have vanished.”
One Seelie going missing could be explained easily enough. Three? This is a problem, indeed. Unfortunately, there are too many boot prints around to properly track. “Could the wolves be back?” They have stalked the Seelie before.
“We have found no prints.”
The ground here is soft; a wolf’s paws would have made at least a small indentation. Not to mention, there would be considerably more blood if they had attacked one of the Seelie.
“Did you check the trail?” Last time the wolves invaded Rosehill, they scaled a treacherous path from the bottom of the canyon.
“Yes, but we found nothing.”
If this was not the work of wolves, then it must be the work of fae. That they attacked the architects responsible for this project might not be a coincidence. I stand, my mind racing. “Do you have any idea who would want to stop the bridge from being built?”
Ever stands as well, brushing the dirt from his knees. “Not all Seelie are pleased to have an Unseelie on their throne.”
After years of hating and fearing us, this is not a surprise.
“There have been reports of small pockets of rebels in some of the northern towns along the Laurel border,” he says. “Although, they have yet to resort to anything but protests.”
Protests only last so long before those protesting grow tired of inaction. Like the many meetings Ever attends. Much talking and nothing resolved. One of these protesters might have decided to do something besides talk.
I do not envy my friend his role as leader of the Seelie fae.
That is a heavy burden for one male. A council has been appointed to help him, but as far as I can tell, they seem more interested in hearing their own voices than resolving or fixing anything in the kingdom.
“I can come to the bridge at dawn. Keep an eye on the laborers.” If there is another attack, I will be able to protect them.
Ever squeezes my shoulder. “Thank you, Maddox.”
It is the least I can do for my closest friend.
If we are wrong and the wolves are back, the Seelie will not be safe. Nia will not be safe.
If it is not the wolves, then I will do my part to find out who has been taking the Seelie fae.