Chapter 28 Lore #2
Wooden beams framed the structure, and horses whinnied softly within the straw-laden stalls I could just make out in the cracks in the side of the building.
Outside, a sprawling livestock pen gave me pause; its wooden slats were weathered with age but still sturdy-looking enough to prevent escape.
A group of men and women were huddled together inside it, their eyes downcast as Conquest and I approached.
I shot a wary glance at the Fae beside me, my heart racing with trepidation.
“You’re not seriously leading me to that pen, are you?”
A sort of savage glee entered his gaze, as if my wariness was highly amusing.
“No, I’ve decided to escort you around the castle grounds, take you for a horseback ride through the country, then woo you with poetry by starlight.”
His tone was so dry I could practically taste dust in my mouth.
I looked him over. “I liked you better when you barely spoke.”
“Duly noted. Now get in with the rest of the prey.”
I didn’t move.
His hand landed on my back, guiding me the last few steps to the pen.
He jerked his chin at the gate and the small crowd inside cowered backward, as if they were terrified of drawing the Fae’s wrath.
This was definitely not the same as the original story. People had fought to become prey, to catch the attention of the legendary Fae hunters.
In the book, they were treated like royalty before the hunt. Fed the finest foods, dressed in white linen to represent winter, and wore crowns made of holly.
They were admired and envied as they walked down the avenue toward the hills where the hunt began. Villagers not chosen all lined the streets, tossing white petals to mimic falling snow, and sang folk songs.
In that beautiful version, the prey had been courted like brides and bridegrooms, not corralled like livestock.
In this twisted version of the tale, their fear was palpable.
I reminded myself that we weren’t even technically in Faerie.
This was still Somnia, still the land ruled by dreams and nightmares.
And it was doing a heck of a job making me forget I had the power to change things…
if I could only get my magic to cooperate.
Conquest gave me a gentle push and I stumbled forward, catching myself on the splintered wood.
The gate banged shut behind me, and I spun around, grabbing the handle and shaking it a little. Locked.
“Blood and bones.”
This night had gone from bad to worse.
Once Conquest had stridden back down the alley and was out of sight, the other prey finally glanced up.
I smiled tentatively. “Hi. I’m Lore.”
No one smiled back.
One of the men, who was barefoot, shirtless, and drooling a line of blood from the corner of his mouth, grunted and hid his head in the crook of his elbow.
A woman I’d guessed to be about twenty pressed her face so deep into the fence that the wood left indents in her cheeks.
The rest of them outright turned their backs on me.
Except for one woman, who narrowed her eyes.
“You’ll be the lamb,” she said.
She didn’t have to elaborate on what she meant by that.
Before I could say a single word of protest, the others nodded—some with relief, some with resignation, none with any real enthusiasm.
Which honestly didn’t make me feel better.
The woman was obviously their leader, or maybe just the last one brave enough to keep making decisions for a group that had clearly given up.
I had no idea what to make of this version of the story.
“While being the sacrifice sounds like important work, I’m afraid that’s not going to happen. Does anyone want to brainstorm a better strategy?”
She cocked her head, her smile curling into something sharp. “Last in, first to die. Majority rules.”
“Die?” If that was true, things had devolved majorly from the plot I knew. “I thought this festival is supposed to welcome in the spring. Being chosen as prey is an honor. And if we win, we’re granted a favor.”
The leader of the prey circled me.
“An honor? Is that what the honey-tongued Fae said to lure you here?” She pointed to the people crouched in the mud. “If sitting in our own shit and being starved all week is an honor, the Fae bastards can keep it. As for favors…” She shook her head. “You don’t want to be in their debt.”
I glanced at the hollow eyes and gaunt faces. The woman wasn’t lying.
“Why don’t you escape?”
“No one escapes.”
Her voice hadn’t been cruel, but she said it with enough finality that it momentarily dampened even my unending supply of hope.
“I’ve seen the unfortunate ones who tried. You start running, the Fae break your legs. Sometimes they don’t even wait for us to try to flee. Sometimes they feel like playing early, prepping us for their games.”
I studied the people around me again.
They were all haunted, defeated in a way I’d never known or seen before. These mortals didn’t worship the Fae like the ones in my book had. They didn’t dream of marrying into high Fae society and being granted immortality.
These people were terrified of the supernatural beings lording over them.
This was what happened when the Liber Noctem twisted the tale.
Almost everyone in this pen had accepted their grim fate and was simply waiting for the next time the door creaked open and their luck ran out.
I wondered if I could summon Teddy to pick the gate’s lock…
“The hunters always want fresh meat.” The leader gave me a pitying look.
“You’ve got fresh clothes, fresh-smelling hair.
That’s what they’re after. Something pretty for them to corrupt.
That’s why you’re the lamb. They’ll make an excuse to take you anyway.
Might as well send you off and save ourselves. ”
Gods, this was truly starting to become a nightmare.
“I won’t just agree to be the lamb,” I said, firmer this time.
Her gaze dropped to the dagger sheathed at my ankle.
I didn’t like the hungry look that crossed her face. She seemed like the sort who would stab me with my own blade and not feel an ounce of remorse.
“When they come just before midnight and cull more of us for the hunt, you will be the first to go.”
She shrugged as if sending me off to potentially be slaughtered was of no consequence. Murderers and psychopaths continued to abound.
“You’ll run, or you’ll die,” she continued. “Either way, you buy the rest of us another day before we’re expected to be their prey.”
My mind raced with this new information.
Conquest hadn’t mentioned anything about the hunt taking place over days or weeks. This woman had to be wrong…
And yet, as my attention swept over the broken people shivering and afraid in this livestock pen, doubt crept in.
He hadn’t actually said it was a festival. He’d only said hunt.
When I’d asked my second question, he hadn’t answered.
The first stirrings of panic flickered through me.
I’d been counting on the fact that there would be several other people acting as prey, drawing the hunters away from me while I found a quiet place to hide and work my magic. If I was the only one running, then my odds of avoiding all of the four horsemen were not very favorable.
Conquest’s warning came back, this time with a new, sinister meaning. Better hope you make some friends or tonight won’t be much fun for you at all.
I certainly hadn’t made any friends, and tonight wasn’t shaping up to be fun. Rotten Fae bastard.
With a renewed sense of urgency, I strode over to an empty corner in the pen and pulled out the phoenix tear.
It was time to dream up something much more pleasant and I only had a few hours to do it. I first tried to summon Teddy. But wherever my shadow pet lived, he didn’t heed my call.
My stomach pinched at that. He’d been there for me when I needed him before, keeping me company. Now I suspected the Liber Noctem was keeping him from me, and I hated how frightened and alone that made me feel.
I didn’t want to admit it, even to myself, but the Book of Nightmares might be getting closer to winning after all.