Chapter 10
The wheels of the Magical Mystery tour bus crunch over gravel as we roll to a stop.
I peer out the fogged window, my breath leaving a smudge on the glass.
The first town we’re stopping at in the Harvest Court unfurls before us like a tapestry rich with autumnal hues, its buildings hewn from wood that seemed to pulse with an inner warmth.
“Finally,” I murmur, stretching as I roll to my feet.
The bus’s enchantments kept us comfortable, but nothing could ease the itch for solid ground beneath my feet.
Being a shifter makes it hard not to touch the earth every once in a while and it’s been four days since we set off from the starting point.
Some of the later parts of the trip will be even worse, so I make a mental note to have Revelin give the driver instructions to allow us time to get out occasionally.
He might be perfectly fine on Fae ground surrounded by Fae magic, but Knuckles and I will need nature.
I rise from my seat as the door unfolds, spilling golden light into the oddly closed off walkway to the main part of the bus.
Stepping down onto the sun-dappled cobblestones, I take in the quaint charm of the busy town.
It’s a stark contrast to the towering evergreens and sweeping meadows we passed—a pocket of civilization nestled amid the wild splendor of the open Faerie.
The air here is rich with the scent of ripe fruit and seasoned wood, a fragrant reminder that this place thrived on the harvests it was named for. I inhale deeply, letting the unique blend of magic and earthiness settle into my lungs.
Damn, everything about this place feels crisp and cozy.
“Tiernan, move your ass,” Khol grumbles, his voice laced with amusement. “Don’t tell me you’re turning into a tree hugger, too. We’re predators, dude.”
I shoot a smirk over my shoulder. “Just taking it in. It’s not every day you get to see the Harvest Court.
Unlike different countries on the other side of the Veil, the Fae courts are strict about who can visit and why unless you’re tourists.
They’re all far too suspicious of one another to allow free travel. ”
Stepping fully into the embrace of the town, I wait for the rest of our family to join me.
The town is alive with the bustle of Fae and other creatures going about their business.
Shopkeepers arrange their wares, children dart between stands, and everywhere there is a sense of anticipation for something grand.
The Prince will be pleased, indeed. All this effort… just for him.
“Looks like we’re here right on time,” I note, watching a group of faeries string up garlands of marigolds and amber leaves.
“Perfect timing, or perfectly planned?” Khol muses, his scales catching the sunlight in flashes of bronze.
“Knowing Revelin’s team,” I replied with a grin, “it’s no coincidence.”
The bus rumbles softly behind us, folding itself neatly into a much smaller, inconspicuous shape that blends into the surroundings—a chameleon among the mundane carts and carriages.
“Let’s get our bearings,” I say as Fiadh steps closer to me. “We’ve got a busy day ahead.”
Dezi claps his hands together, drawing our little ensemble into a huddle amid the throng of townsfolk. “Priorities,” he states, as if the word itself could marshal order from the surrounding chaos.
“I have a planning committee meeting first,” Revelin chimes in, brushing back a lock of hair that is colored to match our girl’s purple and black locks. “I’ve got to sync up with my team for the concert on Friday. Plus, I’ll have to glad hand town leaders because of Prince shit.”
Fiadh’s gaze sweeps across the bustling streets, her expression one of awe mingled with a hint of trepidation. “I didn’t think a small town in Faerie would be this... expansive.”
“Expansive?” Revelin chuckles. “This is quaint compared to Daybreak Court. My family’s palace in the Capital there is much larger than you realize.
The city itself is… well, imagine this multiplied a hundredfold, lass.
Harvest Court has decent sized cities, especially the capital, but the largest Courts are Daybreak and Midnight. ”
Dezi snorts at that, a sound that seemed to echo with centuries of dry wit. “Well, fertility swells the population. Unlike vampires, you Fae and shifters are quite prolific.”
Knuckles’ face drains of color, her eyes growing wide as saucers. I can’t help but let out a chuckle as she looks around at us. It’s a silent plea for sanity—or maybe an escape route.
“Shifters have large families,” I admit, feeling a twinge of something undefinable at the mention of siblings. Being adopted means I’m ignorant of my own bloodline. “Though I can’t say how many brothers or sisters I might have out there.”
“Try seven sisters and four brothers like me,” Revelin offers with a casual shrug, as if such a number were as ordinary as the days of the week.
Our girl’s lips part, her breaths coming quicker now.
The brave warrior looks like a rabbit cornered by wolves—only these wolves are ribbing her about potentially huge litters of pups.
I’d be concerned, but we all know she’s been brewing the witchy potion.
It should be fine, despite her expressions of sheer terror.
“Any idea how many bastard offspring your father has sired, Prince Revelin?” Dezi asks, his smirk cutting through the levity like a scythe.
“More than the ten I’m aware of,” Revelin replies, his tone suggesting this was a conservative estimate. He doesn’t even look bothered, though that’s not surprising. His father is a royal asswad, and he knows it.
“Seven to eight eggs per clutch,” Khol interjects, the scales along his arms shimmering with an almost mischievous light. “Basilisks rarely crossbreed, though, so who knows?”
His jibe is clearly the last straw for our witch.
The edges of her control fray like the hem of a well-worn cloak and sparks of purple magic start shooting through the air.
I step closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders as I unleash a soft, reassuring purr.
It usually calms her, and hopefully now is no exception.
She leans into me, her body relaxing incrementally.
Thank hell. We don’t need to draw that kind of attention in our first hour here.
“Find a fucking potions store,” she mutters under her breath, yet loud enough for us all to hear. “I need stronger ingredients.”
“Worried about the birth control spell?” Dezi guesses with a laugh, and we all join in, our mirth a mixture of affection and teasing.
All we get for our efforts is a glare that could slice someone’s arm off.
“Let’s not jump ahead of ourselves, Fi,” I say softly, still purring. “One adventure at a time.”
But even as the joke winds down and the laughter fades into the background noise of the market square, I know she’s panicking internally.
Family is a sore spot with the sisters since they discovered theirs wasn’t what it seemed.
That makes it even more imperative that we set out after dinner tonight to get a feel for the area.
Perhaps it will give a clue where we need to head for the first artifact.
Dezi exhales slowly as our humor fades. It’s a sound that seems to carry the weight of centuries, but when he looks at Fi, his gaze softens immeasurably.
His eyes scan the bustling town square. “I have business to attend to,” he says finally, his eyes lingering on us with a protective glint.
“Tiernan, Khol, you two are on witchling duty. Keep her safe.”
“Always,” I assure him, feeling the familiar thrum of responsibility in my veins. I would never let my mate roam unprotected, though I suspect she’ll fight us later on when having so many people around constantly gets under her skin.
Revelin steps forward, his regal posture never wavering despite the casual setting.
“My costume manager has contacted the local couture boutique,” he informs us.
“They’ve set aside selections for our girl.
After you track down a suitable witchy shop for her needs, take her to select what she’ll need for this week.
My mother asked that in deference to the local economies, we buy what is needed for anyone outside of me at each stop to show our support. ”
He rolls his eyes because the rebellious git hates politics—despite being heir to a throne—but I understand why the Queen asked him to do this.
“Don’t be a brat, princeling. Your mother requested that, so you are seen not only taking adoration from fans in the kingdoms, but giving back as well. Any fool could figure that out.”
The prince rolls his eyes as he makes a face at the vampire. “Duh. It’s just harder to match us up when I can’t plan. I’m not stupid, bloodsucker.”
Fiadh’s glare could wilt flowers at twenty paces. The prospect of trying on clothes handpicked by someone else clearly doesn’t sit well with her independent nature and she hates when those two snipe. “Fine, I’ll be your rockin’ dress-up doll But I decide what I wear, not these ninnies.”
“Of course,” Revelin concedes with a smile that hints he’s used to getting his way, regardless.
As Dezi and Revelin depart, their shadows briefly merge before separating like dark ink spilled on cobblestone.
Khol and I flank Knuckles, her curvy form looking vulnerable amidst the throngs of unfamiliar Fae and creatures milling about.
The air hums with the promise of discovery and the undercurrents of danger that always accompany this land, but since we’re not in the court I’m used to, it sets off my predator senses.
“Ready?” I ask, casting a glance at Khol, whose scales catch the light in a subtle display of readiness.
“Let’s get this over with,” Fiadh mutters with resignation in her voice.
She’s not happy about having to go shopping, but she didn’t fight us on it, either. I call that progress.
We weave our way through the crowd, each step taking us deeper into the heart of Arrowwood.
The potion shop is in a back alley behind the herbalist stand, making our girl mumble things about ‘real practitioners’ and ‘magical chops.’ I don’t think she means it negatively, but I keep my eyes peeled for any random Fae-kind who might take offense at her directness.
The Fae are artful at conversation and rarely say what they mean, like Fiadh does.
“Knuckles, consider how you speak to the people in the shop. I’m not saying you’re rude, but…”
“Oh, she’s totally bitchy when it comes to magic,” Khol cuts in with a grin. “Luckily, I’m happy to stab anyone who gets shitty about it.”
Fiadh pulls her hand out of mine and turns to us with a serious expression.
“Listen, you two. I know you want to protect me and that asshole made it your job, but… Magical folk talk about their craft and ingredients in a certain way. I highly doubt even the Fae would respect me if I allowed them to pull tricksy bullshit like a newb. So please let me handle the negotiations? I promise I know what the hell I’m doing. ”
Khol squints at her for a moment, then scratches his head. “If they get froggy, I can gut them with you?”
A sharp blade glints in the light as she pulls it from fuck know where within seconds. “Absolutely you can. We’ll have a pointy party. Fair?”
I don’t think so and I’m the one with the most experience in this damn realm, but that’s not going to matter.
“Okay,” I sigh as I pull open the door. “But he’s the one who has to explain to an angry vamp and pouty prince if we get fucking arrested.”
“Deal,” they say in unison.
Excellent. That’s just super.