Fae Nightmare Read online

  “You know I’m not moving in with Edrina, right?” I asked, lifting a brow. We were almost to the town square where I could set down these wreaths. And then I was going to follow one of those magic trails and see what I could see.

  “You’re a part of our town, Allie,” Olen said. There was a glimmer of something in his shiny breastplate. It looked – for just a moment – like Scouvrel, his face utterly shocked before his expression turned to delight.

  My heart started pounding like I’d seen a buck in the woods. I swallowed and pushed down the excitement. He wasn’t here. It was just my imagination.

  For a response to Olen, I looked around pointedly at the town that looked nothing like the one I left. At the three bustling inns and the cobbled square. Someone had built a roof over that well in the middle and installed a fancy crank handle to pull up the water more quickly. I didn’t recognize even half of the tall homes with thatched roofs – one even had tiles! Or the new smithy, or the sheer size of the butcher’s shop. It was like a different town.

  I certainly didn’t fail to notice the fine house made of stone in the center of town with the little stone walls around the tight yard and Olen’s fancy tabards strung along the washline in the back. Beside the house was a long, low stone house that seemed to be both barracks and jail. Someone was doing well with all these changes and that someone was Knight Chanter over here.

  “Am I, Olen?” Scouvrel’s face really was in his breastplate. His lips formed the words, ‘It works.’ My own eyes went large as I focused on it through the blindfold.

  “I remember Olen,” I heard in silken tones just at the edge of my hearing. “He thought he could keep you caged in that little town. What delightful near-sightedness. You should tell him that we are wed. Wouldn’t that be fun?”

  I was hearing things. This wasn’t real. I shook my head to clear it. I would not go insane like my father.

  Olen frowned. He didn’t like me using his name. Probably because I reminded him of where he came from – a tiny nothing town just like me. And where he might have gone – married to me with scowling red-haired children instead of to Heldra with beautiful rosy-cheeked children. All thriving and healthy except for one missing boy.

  “Of course you are, Allie, and we remember our own. Heldra thought that perhaps you were insulted by the offer to help Edrina. She said a woman wants her own home.”

  I grunted noncommittally. I wanted my ten years back, my sister defeated before she could march an army through that magic circle, and the missing children of my home returned. Was that really so much to ask for? I wanted everyone in my family safe and not a danger to this around them. Having a home of my own was pretty low on that list – especially since they were grazing cattle on the land that was definitely mine.

  Oh, and I wanted to see Scouvrel’s face when I turned up and demanded answers about this whole marriage nonsense. I wanted him to explain why he’d thought that was a good idea. That’s what I wanted.

  “I added that to my letter to Sir Eckelmeyer this morning. I thought that perhaps you might feel awkward marrying one of the village boys your age since they were all little children when you ... ahem ... left us.” He looked very grave as he continued, failing to notice how my jaw had dropped. “And of course, it would be very strange for one of us who were once your peers to marry you.” I had a sudden memory of walking into his bedroom as he clutched his blankets around his naked body. It was hard not to grin. “Ten years is a very long time and we’ve all moved on. Even if we weren’t all married ourselves. Which is why I proposed he send one of his more promising squires to assist me here and serve as a bridegroom for you.”

  “You did what?” Ugh. I hated how my voice went so high pitched when I was upset. I’d hurt my ears with that shriek.

  Olen planted a hand on his hip and looked down at me from the back of Blossom in a way that might have looked imperious if his horse hadn’t snorted just then.

  “I am making arrangements to procure for you a husband and a home. I’m surprised to find you so ungrateful, Alastra Hunter. This is a great honor for you.”

  “I’m already married,” I said dryly, and I could have sworn I saw Scouvrel snickering in that breastplate.

  He wasn’t the only one. I couldn’t help the tiny wicked grin blossoming on my face as I strode away to deposit my wreaths with the others woven by the Goodies who were decorating the town square. I couldn’t help but look once over my shoulder at Olen as he sat frozen on his horse, shock leaving his mouth wide open.

  “That’s not funny, Allie!” he called after a long moment.

  But it actually really was funny.

  At least my marriage had been good for that.

  Chapter Three

  Another owl-griffin! These things were everywhere. They must reproduce like rabbits. They’d taken over the niche filled by weasels and martens and the like, killing squirrels and rabbits with reckless abandon.

  Someone needed to manage these invaders, or they were going to destroy the weasel and marten populations. But how would they manage a species that they couldn’t see? I crouched on the path spreading breadcrumbs in a trail to me, trying to lure them in. So far, no luck. Maybe they were strictly carnivorous.

  The desire to be Hunter again left a constant itch on the back of my neck. I could try snaring them.

  That’s not you anymore, Allie, I had to remind myself. You’d be better off taming one for a pet. At least no one would be furious with you for that. And I might enjoy getting to know a Fae creature – though in its own world it was likely a haunted mess like the unicorn had been.

  It was hard to deal with the bitterness that came back every time I was reminded of my lost home and role here. Fuel, Allie. Burn it as fuel, too. This battle isn’t over and it’s going to need all your concentration. A hunter is, above all things, patient.

  I did not feel patient today.

  The path I was following had taken me so far to the west that I was well past anywhere I’d ever been before. This far west was all downhill – but not like rolling, lovely hills I’d heard about in the valley kingdoms. This kind of ‘downhill’ was rocky ravines and paths only a goat – or better yet, an eagle – would ever take.

  I was glad for my pack. I’d already made use of the rope and the water skin and I’d resorted to tying the rat hide around me like a cloak. It blocked the wind well and I was not above hiding in a rat hide against the wind.

  Another ghoul moaned from the bushes nearby. For Pete’s, sake. They couldn’t have recruited a Hunter to replace us and keep this ghoul population down? Really?

  I felt a twinge of guilt stab through me. There shouldn’t have had to be someone to replace us. We should have been here. Knights were all well and good and I could see why the town wanted one to defend against the Fae. Even one like Olen who was a condescending snot these days, but only a Hunter would keep ghouls at bay and the ghoul population had become utterly ridiculous since I left.

  “Back, you wraiths!” I yelled, shooting at one that darted toward me for the fourth time in the past hour. They were far too daring – particularly in the light of day. And I was struggling to recover my arrows on a landscape that was more vertical than horizontal.

  I pulled my blindfold down again and followed the glowing green path. It edged around a rockslide in a way that made my stomach queasy, but at least it was something to do. I was so tired of sitting in that sad house listening to Chanter sing and play day and night, watching my father’s haunted eyes, noting the longsuffering patience in the steady work of my mother and Goodie Chanter’s hands as they toiled over stove or in garden.

  Something moved at the edge of my second sight vision. I turned toward it, but there was nothing there. Hmm. I pulled up my blindfold and shot another arrow at one of the nearby ghouls.

  “Fae take you!”

  It was the best place to channel my frustration and heartbreak. After all, they didn’t belong to this place anymore than I did.

  I pu
lled the blindfold up, recovered the arrow from the fading ghoul and then pulled it down again to find the path. This had better lead somewhere.

  Anywhere.

  I didn’t want to go home empty-handed.

  I needed weapons and I needed a plan. A good plan. I’d been dealing with my sister and Scouvrel being a step ahead of me this whole time, but if I could just think like a hunter – if I could imagine where my prey would walk and set snares for them there – then for once I could be ahead instead of behind.

  I needed that. I needed it so badly.

  I turned the corner around the rock pile and stopped abruptly – a covered wagon lying on its side, long abandoned, the back doors flapping in the howling wind. The glow ended here.

  I froze, watching the wagon cautiously. Something might be living in it. A bear or a mountain lion ... or worse. I pulled up my blindfold but there were no tracks in the soft earth around the wagon, no scent of an animal. Carefully, I nocked another arrow and slid through the shadows toward the half-ruined wagon.

  It looked like it had tumbled from the paths above, but that had to be a long time ago. Grass and small trees had grown up surrounding it, one of the trees was thick as two of my thumbs but it curved around the wagon as if it had grown like that. It was a long way from any road.

  Hmmm.

  The cloth covering the wagon had been brightly painted, but it was faded now and ragged, some of the hoops holding it in place bent or shattered.

  I waited, easing my blindfold down and then back up again three times and watching carefully every time but there was nothing more to see without getting closer. No trap had sprung. No new creature had emerged.

  Something flickered again on the edge of my second sight. I could almost swear it had been something alive. Maybe those owl griffins were playing games with me again.

  Swallowing, I crept closer to the wagon, careful to keep tension on my bowstring. If trouble came, I was ready.

  A bird squawked, jumping up from the grass beside the wagon and flapping toward me. I bit back a scream and my arrow loosed. The bird was so fast that I had to duck, and even then, I felt its wings brush against my face. My arrow twanged, stuck into the wagon.

  You’re too jumpy, Allie. I collected my arrow, my cheeks growing hot. It was just a bird, Allie. Just a partridge.

  But when I closed my eyes, all I could see was Ghadrot holding my cage and telling me about a Feast of Ravens. They’d be coming soon. Maybe tomorrow. Maybe not for ten years. But they would be coming with an army bent on conquering the Mortal Court – which was my world.

  One way or another – whether now or later, they would have to be stopped and a Knight like Olen with a tiny militia of townsfolk wouldn’t be enough to stop them. And neither would this Sir Eckelmeyer or any squire he might send to wed me. Even if I weren’t already married, I didn’t dare start a family. Not when they were liable to be slaughtered before my eyes.

  I gritted my teeth in anger, crossed the rest of the way to the wagon and snatched the cloth aside. The mouth of the wagon bed was dark. I ducked and stepped inside as the door swung in the wind and hit me on the backside.

  I stumbled forward, thinking I would hit the back of the tangled mess of a wagon. Instead, I stumbled through bright light and into a ring of surprised people.

  What in all the ...?

  I looked behind me at a solid oak tree as fat as three of me were wide.

  I blinked.

  “You found the door, deary. And with a blindfold on and all. Of course, it’s the cloth of sight, so you’d be seeing just fine with it.”

  I spun to see the woman addressing me. She smirked at my surprise. She was my mother’s age with wings of white hair over her ears, the rest of it blacker than a raven wing. And though her eyes were hard and glittering, her smile was warm, and her clothing was a strange assortment of every kind and color.

  I clenched my jaw to keep myself from saying something stupid. Instead, I let my eyes wander around the circle at the others with her – men and women and children, babies so young they were slung in bright cloth over their mothers’ breasts, and every other age. The colors they wore hurt my eyes – blues so bright they dulled the sky were set beside oranges so rich that they made wildflowers look shy. Reds and yellows that rivaled the brightest birds I’d ever seen and blacks darker and richer than the shadows of the Faewald.

  They were Travelers, as my mother’s mother had been. And their covered wagons sat in a ring around the tree I’d stepped out of. A big ring. I could count thirty from where I stood and between them, there were more. Many more.

  “And what do you call yourself, girl?” the one who had spoken before spoke again.

  “Allie Hunter,” I said clearly. Best to be respectful.

  “And you keep to the old ways? Follow the paths?”

  “What paths?”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Well, you came through the door, so I just thought ...” She let the thought hang in the air. It seemed to be waiting for me to say more.

  “I followed an orange glowing trail and it led me to a fallen wagon and when I entered it, I found myself here.”

  She nodded gravely. “Then know, Archer, that we are a permanent encampment set up here to trade with others like us as they pass through this place. We lend aid to those in need and shelter the helpless. In all our travel, this is the one place we’ve found safety for our people and our old ways. The door you entered will let no evil pass.”

  “That’s nice,” I said and her mouth tightened with disapproval. What did she want from me?

  “Secrecy is essential for our safety.”

  I nodded.

  “Which means we can’t let you leave unless you swear secrecy and that you will only ever return if you are bringing the helpless to us to be kept safe.”

  “What if I’m helpless and I need you?” I asked.

  Her laugh was harsh. “You could be naked in a snowstorm surrounded by ghouls, girl, and you would still not be helpless.”

  Well, it was nice to be appreciated.

  “In that case,” I said, “I so swear. And I suppose I’ll be leaving?”

  They all nodded as if they had expected that. Well. What a waste of time. I should have stayed home and tied more wreaths.

  I turned and walked toward the oak tree. Here’s hoping it would at least take me home.

  “Wait a moment,” the woman with the white wings in her hair said. “My name is Denera and I am the Loremistress of our camp.”

  I nodded, not sure what else to do other than to put my bow and arrow away. I did so a little sheepishly.

  “Good to meet you,” I said, looking around awkwardly before shrugging, striding to the oak tree, and gently leaning into it

  I stumbled through to the other side and stood in the dark covered wagon, panting as I caught my breath.

  I’d hoped for a weapon or some way to get into the Faewald. Instead, I’d found a useless path to the Travelers. What could they do about the Fae? My ancestors had let me down.

  I paused for a moment. Maybe they could take my parents and keep them safe there. Although they weren’t in danger yet. Not until our town was invaded again. But we’d have no warning. We’d have no way to get out before they arrived. I needed to start working on getting my parents out of town – on getting everyone out of town.

  And I needed weapons. I needed another key. Or another book. Or a big sword for hacking the Court of Twilight into pieces. Or something. Anything but secret broken wagons and howling ghouls.

  I paused, realizing that I’d met those people while wrapped in a rat skin. Maybe I should just be glad that they hadn’t attacked me. I probably looked terrifying.

  I shook my head and began the slow work of following the trail home. I’d try another trail tomorrow and I’d figure out a plan.

  If Scouvrel was here, he’d already be making a game out of this. ‘Truth or Lie,’ he’d say. ‘You’re terrible at getting what you need.’ And then I’d have to tease hi
m about how I’d sold him for what I needed.

  But that didn’t feel very funny. Neither was the idea of me marrying a squire.

  If he had been here, he would have bargained with me to reopen that circle. He would have helped me with a plan to snare the coming Fae army.

  But he wasn’t here. And the stone circle remained closed. And until it opened again, I was nothing more than a simple village girl with tattoos she had to keep hidden from sight and crazy ideas about a coming war.

  I needed to think. There had to be a way to snare them. And I had to find it on my own.

  Chapter Four

  What I needed, I decided, was to think things through. It was easier to think out here with my blindfold off, following the orange trail of the spirit path back to my home. I had to stop often to pull the blindfold back up again, but at least that was my only distraction – that and the iron cage that I kept tied to my belt. It knocked against my leg as I walked, but I was beginning to feel the rhythm of it and that helped it stay in the background.

  If I was my sister, what would I do?

  She sent scouts first last time. It stood to reason that she might send some again.

  Which meant I needed to watch for those.

  Something flickered on the edge of my vision again and I whipped my head around, but all I saw was the glowing trail and the swooping owl griffins set against a dark, nebulous background of the forest in my spirit vision.

  Was it just owl griffins, or was there something more out there? A phoenix perhaps, or a unicorn? Whatever it was, I should catch it by surprise. All I needed was one more glimpse of that flicker and I could put it in my cage if it was a Fae creature. Which is probably what I should have done with the owl griffins, now that I thought about it. I could have a whole cage of those things buzzing around by now.

  Don’t get distracted, Allie. Focus.

  Okay. I stood still, pulled my blindfold up, blinked at the real world, and then whipped it down again and spun. The spirit world rushed by in all it’s flickering, wavering glory. I saw the flicker and I immediately focused.