Chapter 17 #2
Redvyr was suddenly beside me, setting me gently away from the corpse of their friend. The others rushed over as well.
“What is this?” Bezaliel hissed with disgust, looking at Redvyr who was crouched over Tylok, observing his injuries. “Have you ever seen anything like this?”
Mishka and the other wolves approached, planting themselves in a circle around us, facing outward. They were watching for the enemy.
“A barga would’ve dragged him into the woods to eat him,” Leifkyn noted. “And this isn’t nightvyrm territory.”
I’d heard of the giant serpents who lived in the Solgavia Mountains, but I was glad to know they didn’t venture this far.
“Where are Farla and the children?” Tessa hauled Saralyn off her back and clutched her close in her arms, as if she might get snatched away too. “Was there any sign of them, that they might be injured by whatever this was?”
“No sign of them at all.” Redvyr stood, scowling. “Only a struggle.”
Tessa blinked away tears, turning toward their home in the tree.
Bezaliel sidled closer to Redvyr. “Could it be Meer-wolves? Like the infected ones who attacked once before?”
I stepped closer. “What attack before?”
Redvyr’s expression hardened, his tail flitting back and forth behind him. “Several months ago, King Goll encamped farther south from here, but still in beast fae territory. His camp was attacked by three wolves who were sick in some way.”
I scoffed. “In what way? You’re making it sound so cryptic.”
“That’s because we’d never seen it before.” Redvyr caught my gaze and held it. “But I’ve seen it since.”
I swallowed. “The dryad stag.”
He nodded.
“I don’t think it’s wolves,” said Leifkyn, crouching in the snow where a tuft of grass stuck up, holding something he’d lifted out of the scuffed-up powder.
Redvyr marched over to him. “What did you find?”
Leifkyn dropped something long and spindly in Redvyr’s hand. “Tylok must’ve sliced it off in the fight. But what the hell kind of creature is that from?”
I stepped closer and peered at what Redvyr held. “Gods below,” I whispered. “What is that?”
“A finger,” answered Dayn, staring at it with disgust.
I arched a brow at him. “Obviously. But from what?”
The skin was dark grayish-green, the digit extraordinarily long and thin, the pointed black claw razor-sharp and curled.
Black blood oozed out. Dark fae bled blue.
I’d seen more than one get a busted lip or come in with an injury from the road when I worked at Haldek’s. But it wasn’t this sickly color.
Redvyr growled at the severed finger of this unknown creature, this killer, in his hand. “There was more than one of them.”
“How do you know?” I asked.
“I can smell the scent of this one here around Tylok’s body, but there is a different scent up there in his home.”
“Redvyr, we should”—Bezaliel started then suddenly whirled around, unsheathing his sword.
The others did the same, instantly surrounding Tessa and I in a defensive stance, the wolves crouched and growling. Redvyr had me pressed behind him, a claw at my waist. I didn’t have to wait long to discover what had alerted them.
Three shadow fae swooped almost silently out of the clouds, but the beast fae had heard them well enough, already prepared to fight. Redvyr straightened as they drew closer, loosening his grip on my waist.
They all wore silver, gold, and black armor, completely covering their bodies from neck to booted foot. Extending from their backs were the dragon-like wings of all shadow fae. That was where the similarities between the three males ended.
My gaze drew instantly to the one who set foot in the snow first, the others landing behind him.
His black wings with a sheen of dark red arched higher than the others.
His golden hair was braided in thin plaits along his temples.
The effect, with his sun-blond hair falling past his shoulders, revealing the beautiful, sharp features of his face, was stunning.
His eyes were an otherworldly—almost unsettling—orange, scanning all of us and the body on the ground in the snow.
The second shadow fae had a blade drawn, his scowl focused on our party since they hadn’t sheathed their swords. His brown hair was loosely tied in a knot on his head, his yellow eyes glaring at all of us.
The third was—I recognized him. Stepping around Redvyr to stand beside him, I stared at the shadow fae priest who’d come into Haldek’s tavern for a meal with a light fae female not too long ago.
“Murgha,” I murmured to myself, “that was her name.”
The priest snapped his attention to me. His face and black, silky hair were perfection, but his crimson eyes were unsettling as they examined me. Just like the first time I’d met him.
“Whatever happened to her?” I asked the priest.
“Bezaliel,” whispered Tessa behind me, “that’s my sister’s mate.”
“Murgha is your sister?” I asked Tessa over my shoulder.
“Yes. You’ve met her?”
“That can wait,” said Bezaliel sharply, moving to stand beside his lord.
For a moment, silence fell again as the two parties examined one another.
I realized I had spoken out of turn. Redvyr should speak first. And if I wasn’t mistaken, the higher-ranking noble of the shadow fae party was the golden-haired male with wide gold bands at the base of his four horns. He was of royal blood.
“Prince Torvyn,” said Redvyr. “A little far south for you, isn’t it?”
“Greetings, Lord Redvyr. Unfortunately, it is. You know Vallon here, and this is Vaygar.”
Redvyr introduced his men then Tessa. Finally, with a hand at my lower back, he said, “This is Jessamine.”
He didn’t explain why I was there, and they didn’t ask. Then Redvyr began first.
“What brings you so far from Gadlizel?”
Prince Torvyn pointed at Redvyr’s closed hand that was fisted at his side. “That.”
Redvyr opened his hand, showing them what he held in his palm. “You know what creature this is?”
“We’ve been hunting them down from our mountains,” said Vallon, Murgha’s mate. “We didn’t think they’d come this far south.”
“Tell me what they are, Vallon.”
I recognized the command in Redvyr’s voice. His temper was brewing hotter. Vallon stepped forward and plucked the severed finger from his hand.
“Tylok’s family is gone,” Vallon commented as he examined the grotesque digit before tossing it back in the snow.
“Yes,” growled Redvyr. “Now tell me what you know before I have to beat it out of you.”
Vallon scoffed lightly, gazing at Tylok’s home in the giant oak tree. “I’m sorry for Tylok.” He turned back towards his fellow shadow fae. “I’m even sorrier for his female and two children.”
“Fine, fine,” snapped Leifkyn, the only one with a shorter temper than Redvyr. “Tell us what the fuck did this.”
“Grimlocks,” said the prince, his expression grave.
“Grimlocks are a myth,” I said, dragging the prince’s attention to me.
“I’m afraid not, my lady.”
“What are they?” asked Dayn.
“A foul creature.” Prince Torvyn addressed Redvyr. “They are pieces of different fae twisted into one, beget by black magick. But not just anyone could create them. It would need to be a god.”
“Or a demi-god,” added Vallon.
“How do you know this is what they are?” asked Redvyr.
“Murgha,” said Vallon, his voice softening. “She’s a seer.” He held Tessa’s gaze. “A good one.”
Tessa smiled. “I knew she had the gift, though I feared for her. It comes with nightmares.”
“That is for certain.” Vallon faced Redvyr. “We also know these are grimlocks because our scholars have records of a time these creatures crept through our forests and woodlands once before.”
“Tell them all,” commanded Prince Torvyn solemnly. “They need to know, now that the creatures have crossed into their lands.”
“A millennium ago, the god/sun god Solzkin and a shadow fae female had a son, a dark fae sorcerer. He was an abomination — not because of his birth, but because of his obsession with killing and death. He used the magick he’d inherited from his father and blood magick to create murderous monsters—the grimlocks. An army of them to do his bidding.”
“Like wights,” interrupted Redvyr. “The armies of dead that wraith fae can summon.”
“Similar,” interjected the prince, his voice hard and somber. “But unlike the wights, which are mindless bones called up from the graves, grimlocks are sentient creatures of the darkest kind.”
“What do they look like?” asked Tessa, her voice shaky.
“They are part dryad, part dark fae, with moon fae wings. They look more like foul sprites except they are as any fae.” Prince Torvyn turned his gaze on me. “Easily big enough to carry off a female and her children.”
“But what do they want with them?” I asked.
“We don’t know,” replied Vallon. “What’s worse is that we don’t know who has brought these creatures back into existence. According to our scholars, they all died with their master, the sorcerer, long ago.”
“But something has brought them back.” Redvyr crossed his arms. “Or someone.”
Prince Torvyn met his gaze with steely resolve. “That’s not all. Before the grimlocks came out of the mountains, there were signs of some kind of sickness, an infection that causes madness.”
Vallon glanced at the prince when he didn’t go on, adding, “We have seen it in some of the animals.” He paused. “And faekind.”
I turned and placed a hand on Redvyr’s forearm. “The dryad stag who attacked me.”
Redvyr nodded. “We have seen this sickness as well.”
“Do you know where this sickness came from?” Bezaliel had his arm around Tessa’s shoulders while she held their infant daughter against her chest.
“No,” said the prince, “but the scent of the grimlocks is similar to those touched with the mad disease. One thing is for certain, the grimlocks serve someone else, and that is who we must find.”
“For now,” Vaygar spoke for the first time, “I’ll settle with finding and killing the grimlocks.” He stepped closer to Vallon. “We should build a pyre for Tylok.”
“We will help you,” Redvyr told them before pulling me to him. “Stay close to Wolf while we build the pyre.”
“Of course.”
His gaze lingered, his brow pinched with concern before he did something unexpected in front of not only his men, but these strangers.
He cupped my face and pressed a tender kiss to my mouth.
I could do nothing but stare when he drew back, clenching his jaw with a grunt before he turned to join the other males, all of whom had watched—the beast fae with amusement, the shadow fae with surprise and curiosity.
When they marched off into the woods, leaving Tessa and I surrounded and protected by the wolves, my gaze followed the beast fae lord.
“Tessa.”
“Hmm?”
“How often has a beast fae king bound himself to a light fae female?”
A whoosh of wind gusted across the open plain. Hallizel tittered and burrowed herself into the folds of the blanket where Saralyn slept in her mother’s arms.
“Never,” Tessa whispered.
My heart sank. That was what I’d thought.