What Claws Beneath the Crown

Chapter 1

Chapter one

Zara

It’s at least a hundred feet to the ground from the cliff I’m clinging to. The air is thin and icy and my breath bursts from my lips in tiny puffs.

I dare to glance over my shoulder at the ravine below. A couple of dyads trot and skip over the sharp rocks, resembling ants marching swiftly to their hill. If I slip, even slightly, the rocky terrain will do little to break my fall.

A smile creeps over my lips.

Perhaps it’s the adrenaline. Perhaps it’s the awareness that my father would be absolutely furious if he discovers what I’m doing. Whatever's behind the rush of pure joy, it doesn’t matter. I’m here.

The wind swirls through my long hair, pulling small white-blonde strands from my braid and they tickle my cheeks.

The scent of winter aconite flowers blooming from beneath layers of snow and the sounds of pixies murmuring curiously as they flit past fill my senses.

Suddenly I’m part of the wintry wood surrounding me.

This. This is the feeling I long for. The rush.

In this moment, risking death and dismemberment, I’m free.

Free from my duties. Free from solely thinking about alliances and how to prevent wars. Free from who I’m born to become.

The wind burns as it whips against my face and I wince at the sting, yet it’s a welcome sensation all the same.

I climb higher and reach toward another leverage point when my right foot misses its landing and slides against the cliff.

I quickly lose my grip and scramble to gain a foothold, panic overpowering the wonderful feeling of freedom.

A large crevice streaks through the side of the rock about five feet to my right and I use all my strength to swing my body toward it but miss by a couple inches and find myself dangling by one hand and rapidly slipping.

My fingers ache as I grip the stone harder, but it’s no use.

I scream as I tumble backward, falling toward the ravine.

A twinge of a burning sensation knots in the pit of my stomach and I hope this is the moment when my body will finally shift into something that can save me from this death drop.

But nothing happens.

I’m going to die. And in the most awful way possible. My arms flail in front of me as I fall, desperately reaching for something to grab onto to stop my descent, but it’s only a reflex. I know this is the end. I close my eyes and await my fate.

Sharp pain rips through each of my shoulders.

I gasp as I’m lifted through the air and tossed on the cold ground at the top of the cliff I’d been climbing.

I roll onto my side and lie there for several minutes trying to catch the breath that has been forced out my lungs from the impact.

I tentatively sit up, bracing myself on the snowy mountaintop.

The world spins all around me, and footsteps race toward me.

“Zara! I’m so sorry. Are you hurt?” What had just been the large talons of a golden eagle are now unmistakably Fae hands gripping my shoulders, helping me to stand.

“I didn’t mean to drop you, but I can only carry you a short distance and…

” My best friend, Emlyn, gives me a once-over, searching for injuries, worry creasing her brow. “You’re bleeding!”

I look at my shoulders and see blood trickling from two small puncture wounds on each of my arms. “I’m okay.

” I steady myself on her forearms. “It’s a small price to pay for not plunging to my death.

I just got the wind knocked out of me, that’s all.

” I attempt to smile to prove I’m unharmed, and she releases me.

“You know, these accidents could all be avoided if you would just learn how to shift. Then you wouldn’t need to rely on me to rescue you all the time.” She smooths out her simple white tunic and gray pants before tying her long espresso-colored hair into a bun.

Ouch. I frown and pick at the hair at the end of my braid.

She notes the hurt on my face. “I’m only kidding.

” A lopsided smile spreads across her lips and her cheeks flush from the cold, “But it is getting a little harder to carry you now that I’m older.

My back is too frail for all that lifting.

” She leans forward and rubs her lower back as if she might topple over from the imaginary pain.

I laugh so hard, my sides ache. “Okay, first, I don’t need rescuing all the time and second, we’re only nineteen. Hardly old.” I brush off my tunic and shake the snow from my hair.

Emlyn straightens. “According to your stepmother, you should be married with little faelings by now. Preparing to be a queen.”

I huff and roll my eyes. That amount of responsibility doesn’t appeal much to me.

“Well, she got her wish, didn’t she? You’re looking at the future Queen of Lanray.” I dive into a mock curtsy and trip over my own boots, landing on my rear.

Emlyn giggles at my clumsiness then bows, “Your Majesty.” She bursts into a fit of laughter before saying, between giggles, “You need some help with your curtsies, Princess.”

My jaw drops with feigned shock, and I place a hand over my chest, “How dare you address me in such a way!” I get to my feet and nudge her, joining in her tearful laughter.

Our laughter fades and we gaze out to the wintry wonderland of the forest surrounding Masseda.

I don’t want to leave my Court. I don’t want to leave Emlyn or my father.

Especially not to marry the stuffy prince of Lanray.

But is it truly my decision? Of course it isn’t.

Not as a royal. There are alliances that must be formed to ensure that the Seelie Court remains strong and in control for the foreseeable future.

And I just have to deal with it.

Emlyn puts her hand on my shoulder. “Rumor is, he’s good looking. So, there’s something to look forward to.” She’s joking to make me feel better, but she isn’t wrong.

Prince Leer is attractive. At least, that’s what I’ve heard. I’ve never laid eyes on him.

I sigh heavily, taking in one last breath of freedom. “Come on, we should get back to Court before Elara sends out a search party.” Not that my stepmother would ever be concerned about my safety, but I don’t say as much.

Emlyn nods and with a cold whoosh of air, her lithe Fae body transforms seamlessly into a beautiful brown bird of prey.

Her animal form is nearly as graceful as she is in her given form, her eyes just as golden.

A pang of jealousy strikes me like a smack in the face.

Why can’t I transform into some kind of animal? Any kind.

I’d be happy to shift into a grasshopper at this point.

Emlyn lifts her head motioning for me to follow.

I nod and she leads the way above the canopy.

Then we take off. I race through the pines and evergreens of the forest, kicking up snow beneath my feet.

My eyes sharpen and the pointed tips of my ears tingle with the sounds of the Woodlands sweeping past me.

I may not be able to shift, but my natural abilities of speed and heightened senses rival the best in Masseda.

I smile as I wander deeper into the forest toward the palace, Emlyn soaring high above me.

She slows to a hover and eyes the forest floor before emitting a horrific screech.

Something’s wrong.

I narrow my eyes and wait for her to continue on.

But she swoops in tight circles, her eagle vision scanning the canopy.

I stop short and sniff the crisp evening air, getting the unpleasant feeling that someone or something is out here, watching us.

Emlyn gains height again and screeches before flying ahead to check the path.

I take a couple steps, creeping along a dirt trail littered with rocks and roots and branches.

The infringing darkness of the evening and silence of the Woodlands surround me.

Swallow me up. Gooseflesh crawls along my arms and up to my neck, and a putrid whiff of rot and death attacks my nostrils.

A low growl comes from somewhere to my left.

I take off running.

Another growl. And another. Intensifying into a bellowing roar.

A scream escapes my lips, and I run faster, hoping Emlyn hears my cries from the air.

Tears stream down my cheeks. Branches slap me in the face.

But I keep going. Fighting my way through the bramble.

Something’s behind me. Gaining ground. I glance over my shoulder, seeing only darkness. But it’s there. I feel it.

I whip my head back around and slam into something hard.

I slowly drag my gaze up the mountainous body of the creature before me. Gray and wrinkled. Black and empty eyes. Claws extended at its sides. Hideous. Its lip curls up revealing razor sharp fangs.

I can’t move. I can’t scream. I can’t even breathe.

We stare at each other for a second. An eternity.

It moves slightly toward me. Fear clutches my gut.

I step back. A screech rips through the sky, and in a flash of black smoke, the creature transforms. Long legs shorten and grow talons.

Haggard and scaly arms become feathered.

I track the owl’s beating wings as it flies above my head and disappears into the night.

My knees give way beneath me, and I crumple onto the dirt.

I pull my knees to my chest, and bury my head in my hands, shaking from the encounter. I’ve never seen a troll before, but I know what I’ve heard and read. And that…that was no troll.

Footsteps race toward me from the path. I startle and hover closer to the brush to camouflage my body with the bushes.

“Zara?” Emlyn calls.

I release a ragged breath and scramble to my feet. “Emlyn?” I rush my friend and throw myself into her arms.

“Are you okay? I heard you scream.” She pulls from the embrace to assess me. “What happened?”

Blood trickles from several scratches along my arms. “Something was chasing me. It…it was a…” I don’t even know how to describe it.

My heart pounds and my hands tremble as I brush a strand of stray hair from my face.

I scan the area. What if it’s still out there?

What if it comes back? “Did you see something? Above the trees?”

“There was a swift movement. An unnatural jerking motion that caught my eye, and a smell…it wasn’t a good smell…it was like. Like the smell of rot.”

“I smelled it too. Then…I saw something. It was a monster—then an owl?” A shiver runs down my spine, and I rub my forehead. I don't know if I'm making any sense.

Her grip tightens around my shoulders and her throat bobs. “Whatever it was, I think it’s gone now. You’re safe.” She releases me, but I sense her anxiety increasing by the second. She glances around, searching the surrounding trees, seemingly unsure the perpetrator is truly gone.

I gulp, my mouth dry as sand, and loop my arm through hers, dragging her back toward the Court. “Come on. Let’s get out of here before it comes back.”

She nods and we race out of the forest, both of us on two legs this time. Once we near the clearing and home is in view, I glance back over my shoulder into the woods behind us. I shudder, unable to shake the distinct feeling that something is still out there. Watching me.