17
Valen
Emian points us in the right direction. Luckily, we’re not far and reach the edge of the remains of the Spring Court within hours. They’re well protected, with the only way in and out of the valley through the lake. Getting the kelpie to protect them was smart—but they’d gone about it the wrong way. It would have been far smarter to barter with the creature rather than trapping it into service.
As we approach the town, several Fae see us coming. They call out a warning, and within moments, six armed Fae surround us, their weapons—crude, barbed spears—drawn. I’d never met a Spring Fae, but I spent hours reading every chronicle about history I could get my hands on. Our texts said they were taller than us, with slimmer forms and sun-bronzed skin. The warriors in front of us fit that description perfectly, but the greeting? That’s a bit off. The Spring Fae were said to be peaceful and welcoming. But I suppose a thousand years of struggle might change things a bit.
“On the ground!” the one up front yells. His bright-yellow hair is wild, and there’s a glint of menace in his golden eyes. “Now!”
“Absolutely not!” Daroose snorts. “This fabric is far too delicate to—”
Two of the guards surge forward and wrestle the kelpie to the ground. Gensted growls but goes down right beside Tania without hesitation.
I stand my ground. “We’re here on behalf of the Winter and Autumn Courts. I’d like to speak to, well, whoever is in charge.”
The guards exchange an irritated look. The one in front—a broad-shouldered Fae with short, spiky violet hair—leans in close. “Do I look like I care why you’re here?” He grabs me by the throat. “If you don’t get down in the dirt, I’ll slice you off at the knees.”
“Just do as he says, Valen. To these people, we’re outsiders. The enemy. What did you expect?”
Well, I’d hoped for rose petals and half-naked dancing girls, but sadly they’re lacking in the welcome department.
I sigh. “There’s really no need to get so graphic—”
“Keep quiet!” another one of the guards shouts.
“You’re going to get us killed.”
There’s the Tania I know and love.
Slowly, I get on the ground. But, unlike the others, I sit in the dirt, legs crossed. Defiant.
“Who are you and what are you doing on our land?” The one in front demands.
“Who, me?” I wave a hand at the violet-haired Fae. “Oh. I wasn’t aware I could speak now.”
The guard at the front of the group slams his polearm against the ground. The others do the same, parting to allow a tall, slender female Fae with pale-pink hair and golden eyes through. She’s wearing a sky-blue dress that swishes with every move, and her feet are wrapped in makeshift sandals comprised of vines and sticks. She looks me up and down and yawns. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here. But you should know, these guards haven’t had a hunt in months. Keep acting like a fool, and you’ll give them one.”
Apparently, she hasn’t read the history books on Spring Court welcome etiquette, because hunting your guests would surely be frowned upon. “Might I stand?”
“Why?” she asks. Her lips quirk with a cruel grin. “The position you’re in seems fitting to me.”
“I’m going to assume you’re the leader here. Is that right?”
“It is.”
“Then our position is that of equals.” I’ve never believed in all that station crap, but this Fae clearly does. “My name is Valen, and I’m the monarch of the Winter Court.”
“Monarch?” She laughs. Behind her, the guards do the same. “And you think that makes us equal ?”
“You just said—”
“A monarch is nothing more than an overstuffed, sad excuse for a figurehead. I am the ruler of the Spring Fae.” She glances back at the guards, and they all bow.
Well, this is going to be fun. She’s so charming…
“Tread carefully, Valen.”
“I’ve come with diplomatic intentions,” I say. “If you and I could speak—”
She laughs again, but this time it’s unhinged. A half-crazed cackle that has her doubled over and gasping for air.
It wasn’t that funny…
“Focus, Valen.”
“I’ve come in an attempt to unite the courts against a common enemy.” I nod to Gensted and add, “The leader of the Autumn Fae and I—”
“Two monarchs ?” She laughs even harder, glancing at her warriors. They’re standing behind her, stiff and watching every movement as if waiting to pounce. After a moment, she collects herself and straightens. “The only common enemy we have is each other.”
“It doesn’t have to be like that.” I hold my breath and climb to my feet. The guards on either side of her move in closer, but they don’t stop me. “We mean you no harm. I promise.”
“Your promise means nothing to me,” she snaps. With a curt nod to the head guard, she whirls and stalks back toward the gate.
Gensted curses, and Tania yelps in surprise. Four guards—three for Gensted and one for her—drag them off, while Daroose is shackled with a thin green rope. The kelpie snarls and struggles against the frail bindings, but somehow they hold as he’s dragged away.
The two remaining guards—one being the bulky, violet-haired Fae—bind my hands and shove me forward. They lead me through the gate and down a main drag. The main gate must have once been what led to the buildings that housed the court. When everything else was destroyed, they seem to have relocated the remaining Fae inside.
We walk the gravel-lined streets and move through the main square. Unlike the huts in Autumn, the structures here are remnants of the original court. Broken and crumbling but still mostly standing.
As we pass through the town, a small crowd of Fae gathers, watching. Their hair, an assortment of varied pastel shades, and their bronzed skin are the only splashes of color in an otherwise muted landscape. All their clothes are worn and tattered, their frames gaunt and thin. It’s impossible to ignore the looks of hunger in their eyes, but more than that, there’s a feral element to them. Something haunted and defensive and bordering on violent.
The guards escort me to the largest building, and when we get inside, they shove me into the first room we come to. There are questionable dark stains on the floor and several sets of shackles on the wall.
They leave me, and not long after, the leader comes. She slams the door closed behind her and stops to study me.
“If you’ll just let me speak—”
“Scream,” she says, her face impassive.
“I— What?”
She produces a knife and, holding it to my throat, leans in close. “If you value your life, I would scream.”
I let out a rather unconvincing scream while maintaining eye contact.
She withdraws the weapon and rolls her eyes. “Really? That’s all you can muster?”
“I’m—I’m so confused right now.”
The woman’s cheeks flush pink, and she gently spins me around. A second later, my bindings are cut. “Sorry about that. I am going to need you to scream, though. Like you mean it this time. Please…?”
I have no idea what the hell is going on, but I let out a howl that shakes the walls.
She smiles. “So much better! Thank you.” Extending her hand, she adds, “My name is Wren.”
“Uh…okay?”
“I know how confusing this must all be, and I apologize for the theatrics—would you mind terribly if I asked you to scream again?”
“I, um—AHHH!”
“Perfect!” She grabs a wooden chair and kicks it across the room. It clatters against the far wall before toppling to the floor, making a loud bang . “I need to make sure that this looks good.”
“That what looks good, exactly?”
“Your interrogation.” She grabs the chair she kicked across the room, then gestures for me to take the other. “They need to think I’m being rough with you.”
“Any particular reason?”
She frowns. “I’m not sure what it’s like in your court, but here, the only thing the Spring Fae will yield to is fear. Before I took over, we were lawless. Chaotic and brutal.” Her eyes glisten a bit. “We weren’t far from becoming depleted, if you ask me.”
“So you, what? Pretended to be a dictator?”
She dips her head. “I’m ashamed to say that not all my actions were for show. I’ve—I’ve done many things I’m not proud of. But my brothers—the three Fae who brought you here? They’ve helped. Between the four of us, we’ve managed to bring some semblance of order to the Spring Fae.” She glances back at the door. “If you wouldn’t mind…”
“Gods!” I yell, trying hard not to laugh. Banging my hand against the wall, I let out an agonized howl. “You’re a monster!”
She giggles.
“So you’ve managed to carve out a society by making them fear you?”
“I understand how it might seem to an outsider.” Her lip curls up, and her shoulders stiffen. “Obviously, being from the Winter Lands, you don’t know real struggle.”
“I apologize if I sounded judgmental. I’m just…surprised. To be honest, we weren’t even sure we’d find anyone out here.”
“Yes…” She stands. “Well, you almost didn’t. I’ve only been leading these Fae for two years. Had you happened on us before that, you would have found a very different environment.”
“Maybe my visit is a blessing, then.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well, like I said, I’ve come for diplomatic reasons.”
“Right,” she says. “You mentioned a common enemy?” She’s curious, but if I’m not careful, I’ll lose her.
I explain our situation, making sure to convey that Aphelian is not just a Winter Court problem.
To her credit, Wren listens to the whole story, asking the occasional question. When I’m finished, she asks, “And you believe she’ll come for us as well?”
“I’m sure of it—which is why we’ve come to ask that you stand with us.”
Wren spreads her arms. “In case it wasn’t obvious, I have no army to offer. No resources. What help could I possibly be to you?”
“We weren’t sure what we’d find—if anything. If you have warriors to spare, then we’ll gladly accept their help. If not, I would like your help.”
“Me?” Her eyes grow wide. “What can I do?”
“You’re obviously smart. You may not have physical resources, but you’re resourceful. Look what you’ve done here. If things were as bad as you say, then it took cunning and intelligence—not to mention guts—to turn it all around.”
The flattery doesn’t faze her. “I’m no fighter. Before I took over, I was barely a baker.”
“Wait—a baker?” Surely I heard her wrong. “You’re not from the royal line?”
“The royal line doesn’t exist anymore. The last Leafbinder perished almost one hundred years ago. I’m simply a Spring Fae who grew tired of watching her own people slaughter one another.”
“Well, what if you could be more? What if you could wield true power? Real Fae magic?” I hold out my hand. An icy sword takes shape.
Wren’s mouth opens, then closes, and she shakes her head in awe. “You have magic…”
“And I will share it with you.”
“If your offer is real, then I’m truly interested…but there’s another matter to deal with first.”
“And that is?”
“As I said, I’ve had to do things I’m not proud of. Sacrifice my morals to keep the charade going.” She bows her head, guilt gleaming in her eyes. “If I’m to even consider your offer, it will have to be done as we do everything else. A trial by combat. Two of you will have to survive the Pit.”