Chapter 3 #2
Wiping the crushed bug on my black elven armor, I removed the blades from his palms and sheathed them. The spider was inches away now, coming to a stop. Should I let it bite him? Let him endure three days of dwelling in his own human wastes for a few days?
I decided against it and grabbed him by his broad shoulders.
“Come now, human.” I dragged him out of the spider’s path, flipped him on his back.
He stared up at me, and I crouched once more to brush insects from his face as Maeve batted him down.
“There. You’ve enjoyed some of my mercy.
” I grabbed his face and squeezed until his lips formed a figure of eight.
“That’s all the mercy you’ll enjoy from this moment on.
” I squeezed harder. “Feel that, human. A soft touch compared to the road ahead.”
Our eyes locked for at least twenty seconds. He didn’t blink, neither did I. I looked away first. Not because of him winning our staring contest, but because I didn’t want to be around the bugs for much longer. They really did enjoy this smelly man and were angry at the disturbance of their frenzy.
I took his right leg, Maeve his left. “Ready?”
“I can drag him, Your Highness.”
“No,” I replied firmly.
With that clear, we dragged the human through the forest.
Once again, a group of royal guards waited for me at the bottom of the hill.
“A human,” one of the males said. “Danu, he reeks.”
“Indeed,” I responded. “Lock him up. I’ll deal with him later.”
I caught the human’s eyes upon me, offered him a wink. He didn’t appreciate it. There would be much he wouldn’t care for in the days to come. I was still plotting a buffet of painful delights.
Waving a dismissive hand at the guards, they dragged the human away by the legs—the same method Maeve and I had used. I watched him go, still staring at me upside down, his head bouncing on the grass. He really enjoyed staring contests.
For now, the human could stew in the dungeons. My fear for my friend had spiked once again. I needed to see him, to check on his condition.
“Come,” I said to Maeve.
She didn’t need an explanation. My loyal companion followed me in a jog up the hill, past the human halfway up now. I winked at him again as I hurried past, the other guards nodding at me with their deepest respect.
We jumped into one of three rose gold royal carriages waiting for me. It carried us through the busy city streets, cutting through the sounds and the smells—pleasant and vile. People called my name. Some even applauded. But I kept the curtains drawn across the windows, in no mood to wave or smile.
Maeve and I sat together, waiting to arrive at the palace. If only there were something faster than these horses. Just for today while this unease ran riot within me.
As soon as we came to a stop inside the heavily walled palace grounds, I leaped out of the carriage and bounded up the entrance stairs.
The grand golden doors opened for me, more guards bowing.
I dashed into the huge hallway of gold walls and tapestries and magnificent art created through the ages by the most gifted hands, heading left.
We ran across gilded carpet, taking ten minutes to arrive at the healing place in the west wing.
Sickness and herbs and cleaning fluids were the air’s cocktail.
A chorus of coughs on the wards behind white curtains.
Medical staff dotted the white corridors in their white tunics, responding to me with bows and curtsies.
Everything was so white, so clean. Cold and unlovely and a clear indicator of the differences within this space to the rest of the palace.
Terrifying differences. A place of illness.
Please be well, Boyd.
My silent prayers felt desperate. How could a man recover from such a thing? Would his eyes ever return to him? Would he now face a life of blindness? If he did, the Fomorian sorcerer would endure the same.
Fear, the rotten kind, smothered me as those insects had smothered the human. Sweat beaded on my brow. The close heat of this area didn’t help. It was cloying and crushing me with sticky hands, trying to send me into a spin of worry.
It wouldn’t have me, my will greater by a whisker.
Please be well…
I needed no words to ask for directions.
The staff here already knew my purpose, understood my bond to Boyd.
Every fae and human worth its salt knew of it.
We were family, stronger than blood, far more loving than anyone calling themselves my kin.
Even more so than my own father. I loved Boyd as a brother and Maeve as a sister.
We’d been through so much blood and joy.
Our lives were deeply entwined. They weren’t just my personal guards.
They were my everything. They were my heart.
I almost tore the white curtain from its pole, acting before the nurse could.
There he was, my Boyd. Laid out on the bed in a thin pale blue garment for the sick, his neck locked in a brace. So vulnerable, his skin having lost some of its sheen.
But…
Oh, Danu! Praise her name. Praise her until the end of time. His green eyes were there in his head, meeting mine. His pink lips spread into a small grin, a familiar mischievous grin associated with this fae.
“His eyes,” I breathed.
“Thank Danu,” Maeve said next to me.
As much as I wanted to run to him, I knew to exercise caution. Especially where magic was concerned.
I turned to face a doctor—in white with a turquoise rose embroidered on her tunic to indicate her skill. “How is he?”
The human curtsied and said, “I expect Boyd to make a full recovery.”
I sighed my tension out of me.
“Many weeks of healing and rehabilitation await him,” she continued, “but he will be back on his feet soon.”
Relief washed over me. Thank Danu for blessing him with another chance.
Maeve took my hand.
“Thank you for helping him,” she told the doctor.
“My pleasure.”
“And the shadow magic?” I asked. “He’s free of it?”
“Yes, Your Highness. He’s all cleaned up.”
“Bless you,” I said.
Humans. A complicated species. They’d come from their faraway lands to the east generations ago, lost explorers washing up on the shores of Faerie, fleeing a life that had rejected them.
With them, they brought the skill of herbology.
A welcome addition for healing and more frivolous activities.
Like potions to enhance sex. Humans without herbology skills were put to work, sold in the slave markets to be of use in homes or working the lands.
Every one of them had a place in the world and had been at our beck and call for centuries.
Irritatingly, there were humans who didn’t enjoy being used to serve the fae.
So, they rebelled, considering seelie the enemy.
Spun lies by the unseelie who offered them freedom, a chance at a new life free from servitude.
Did the fools not understand who ran the unseelie court?
Fomorian fae, not humans. In the unlikely event the unseelie took power, they would certainly turn on any promises made and use the humans for their proper purpose.
Because that is what they were—tools. Servants.
Be it medical or manual labor. A useless human was a dead one.
Allowing any level of freedom would be bad for Faerie.
We’d all heard tales from the human lands of smoke choking the skies, of harmful industry and other abominations.
Humans didn’t arrive from the east much these days. No matter. There were plenty of them to avoid a journey to those lands to harvest more. They liked to breed. If the day ever came when they didn’t, we’d need to fetch more. We depended on their potions. Too much.
Thoughts for a bleaker future.
“You’re safe to sit with him,” the doctor said.
Together, Maeve and I went to him, taking a seat on either side of his bed. Each of us took a hand.
I kissed his knuckles. “Nice to see your eyes again.”
“Nice to see you again,” he answered in a rasp.
It sounded painful.
“How are you feeling?” Maeve asked.
“Been better, Mae.”
“Sorry. Silly question.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “I’m just happy to see your faces.”
“You had us worried sick,” I jumped in. “Don’t do it again.”
“I’ll try.”
“You’d better try. This is all very inconvenient. Look at the sweat on my brow. You’re ruining my reputation for flawlessness.”
Boyd cocked an eyebrow. “You have a reputation like that, Your Highness?”
I lightly smacked his knuckles. “Ah, you sting me with your acid tongue.”
“Not my best acid,” he countered. “Let me think on some more.”
“You only get one a day.”
He groaned. “You don’t play fair.”
“I’m a prince. It’s my prerogative to play a dirty game.”
“I know… I’ve seen.”
We all laughed as one unit.