Fae Hunter (Tangled Fae Book 1) Read online

  But there was a threat. And I’d just seen it. It had almost stolen my soul.

  Chapter Eight

  “At least she’s safe,” my mother said that evening when we returned. “It was a false alarm.”

  “She must have wandered off,” my father said, but his voice was still cautious. It wasn’t like him to jump to conclusions and it was still very strange to find a baby out in the woods safe, alive, unhurt. Especially so far from home.

  I hadn’t told him about the Shining One I saw. I felt the knowledge of it burning in my chest – a secret wanting to get out and spread from person to person. And yet. They already didn’t trust me because of Hulanna. I’d heard Chanter whispering to my father that he should keep an eye on me. And when I’d asked Olen if he’d seen the Shining One, he’d laughed and said that only I would have the audacity to claim to see the Fair Folk when I couldn’t see at all.

  If I told them that I’d seen one – again – and a different one than before, would they even believe me? They’d want to know why I hadn’t called for help. And how would I explain that delightful, toxic, enchanting tangle of emotions I’d felt at the sight of him? My cheeks were hot even now at the thought of it.

  “Even so, perhaps we should find some of the old artifacts,” my mother mused. “The things our grandmothers hid for use someday when they returned.”

  She said ‘they’ like she was afraid to even use the words Shining Ones or Fair Folk instead of ‘Fae.’ Did she know that saying their name in your mind called them?

  “Old wives’ tales,” my father scoffed. “They weren’t true then and they aren’t true now.”

  “They wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble of hiding artifacts if they weren’t true,” my mother chided. “The Iron Ring, the Nail Pendant, the Cage of Souls ...”

  “Genda,” my father’s voice was gentle. “You look to these things because you’re blinded by grief. Mourn with me, instead. We have some time now.”

  I heard a rustling of cloth and their glowing forms merged – a hug perhaps. It was hard to tell with my new vision. I closed my eyes, grateful for the rest from the headache-inducing images of my second sight – or whatever it was.

  “I’m going to sit in the garden,” I said roughly. I was tired. We’d walked a long way before the Earthmover girl was found.

  “Sit with us,” my mother offered, but sadness was thick in her voice and I knew tears were close. My parents could cry together. Tears were the last thing I wanted right now. Tears would mean defeat and I wasn’t willing to give up yet. There had to be a way to bring her back.

  “I just need some time on my own,” I said, using the staff to help me find my way to the door.

  The night air, cool on my face, was alive with the scents of flowers going to sleep and the sound of goats as they settled for sleep. Someone needed to walk them up to pasture. They’d been left in the pen all day and that would make them cranky. But that was my job. Mine and Hulanna’s and Hulanna was gone.

  What I needed was some kind of advantage. I already had a disadvantage – losing my sight – and I didn’t call this new strange sight a proper exchange for that. So, what I needed was some tool to get my edge back. Maybe, if I found one of these ancient things my mother was talking about, I could even things out again.

  But how did you find ancient artifacts? My mother didn’t seem to be too clear on that.

  It seemed like just the kind of thing old ladies would do, too. Where should we put emergency artifacts for future generations? Oh, I don’t know, let’s hide them so they’re really difficult to find when they’re needed again. That way, if someone finds them, we’ll know that they’re worthy. But what if someone just stumbles on them in their secret hiding space? Well, then that person is worthy. Unworthy people don’t find magical artifacts in the woods, right?

  I sat down on our garden bench and thought about it, letting my second sight wander over the bright flowers – somehow their flower souls were almost more lovely than their real blossoms were – and the ribbons of color that wove through the landscape. They called to me again. Especially the golden one that seemed to pulse with light whenever I looked at it.

  I was just sure that it would lead me to something incredible. Listen to me! I was as crazy as those ancestor women.

  I bit my lip glancing at our cottage. My mother’s sobs were easy to hear, and I was pretty certain that my father would be tearful, too. No point bothering them. No point bothering anyone on a mere hunch.

  I could do this myself, couldn’t I? I wasn’t useless just because I’d lost my sight. I clenched my jaw forcing away thoughts of blindness. I’d deal with all those emotions later – when the threat was past. When everyone was safe. This was my fault and I would fix it and if these ribbons of color could lead me to some clue to help out, then I’d be a fool not to follow them. Right?

  So, why did it take so much work to talk myself into it?

  I pushed that thought aside, grabbed my staff and carefully worked my way to the golden ribbon. It almost seemed to greet me as it pulsed brighter at my arrival. I’d made it! But which way now?

  I looked up and down the ribbon, but it wasn’t clear which way to go to follow it. Well, I’d just have to guess. One end curled toward town – not ideal. Not when I was navigating with a staff and anyone else could see me slinking around.

  I’d go the other way and just hope I’d chosen correctly.

  Perhaps by chance, or perhaps by fate, the ribbon led along a well-worn path winding toward the east of Skundton. My feet were quiet on the packed earth and I was navigated as much by memory as by the golden ribbon, letting the staff swing back and forth in front of me as I walked so I didn’t slam a toe into a root or rock.

  My eyes drifted painfully over the ever-changing ghostly landscape. Trees flickered in and out of life at random. Stars and bright murals of light sprang to life and then faded, leaving only whispers behind them. It made me nauseated.

  It was in that silence that I heard whispering. Someone did not know I was here.

  “If they really are back, then it’s her fault. I’m telling you, Olen, you shouldn’t be around that girl.”

  I felt my cheeks heat. Whoever that was whispering in the forest had to be talking about me. The voice was familiar, but I didn’t dare look around the trees to place it for sure. The only thing worse than having people talk about you behind your back was letting them know you knew that they all thought you were pathetic.

  “She’s blind. What do you expect me to do, treat her poorly after she lost her sight? Be reasonable.”

  “I just don’t think that if you’re serious about us, that you should be around her.”

  Ha! Olen had a girlfriend. And she didn’t like me.

  Well, I had bigger things to worry about than boys. She could have that mandolin-loving Chanter for all I cared. And they could spend all their time together talking about me and my blindness if that’s what they thought was so entertaining. I had a sister to save, an artifact to find, and a new world to navigate. My decision on that wasn’t going to be shaken by a gawky teen who played obnoxious music on his aged mandolin.

  So why did their words sting so much?

  Chapter Nine

  By the time I began to regret my decision, it was already too late.

  It was growing colder. Cold enough that I had to assume that the sun had set long ago. I’d already stumbled and fallen so many times that I’d lost count. The chances that my soft woolen hose was torn were almost certain, but I didn’t dare to stop to find any holes or tend painful knees. If I didn’t prove this had all been worth something before I returned home, I’d have nothing to show for this trip but my parent’s grief and disappointment. If I could find whatever was at the end of this ribbon – well, I’d have that, right?

  It was strange, but the ribbon almost seemed to whisper to me, as if I could hear the voice of the person who had originally made this trail.

  Hide it. Hide it somewhere safe f
or when they come back.

  Which had to mean that I was on the right path! If I could bring something back that was valuable, then I’d show them that I could still be the village Hunter. Somehow.

  Blindness was only a ... situation ... not a sentence.

  There was a shuffle ahead and a pink-tinted streak zipped across the path with a ribbon trail of its own, though the colors faded almost immediately. I’d just barely caught sight of a pair of long pointy ears. Rabbit.

  See? I could still see animals. A bit. I could see their spirits. That had to be something I could use to hunt, right?

  A branch thwapped me in the face and I bit back a cry of pain. It had hit me right in the eyes. I closed them – sinking into darkness as even my second sight left me – and tried not to cry in pain and frustration.

  Who was I kidding? Stumbling blindly through the forest wasn’t going to do anything, was it?

  Trap their souls. Send them back. Keep us safe. On the track.

  Whoever left that golden ribbon must have also been fond of bad poetry.

  Gritting my teeth together, I opened my painful eyes and pressed on. I’d come this far. I could keep going. I just hoped I was back before my parents got too worried.

  The path twisted around the corner of a rocky outcrop – or that’s what it seemed to be when I tapped it with my staff – and I stepped up onto a rocky shelf, following the ribbon carefully. Shale slipped under my feet and I scrambled to keep upright. I must be somewhere steep. I tapped the rock with my staff, but it seemed solid ahead.

  When I looked up, I saw it.

  A magnificent stag, glowing light blue in the darkness ahead, stood looking up at the sky, his antlers sweeping wide behind him. Beautiful. Unlike the rabbit, his ghost stayed bright, stomping a foot and pawing the ground with a snort.

  As a Hunter, I should be excited to see a strong animal like that so close to our village. And of course, I was. But mostly I was just in awe. Who would have thought that blindness could lead to a sight like this? I blinked my aching eyes and stayed very still until he ducked his head and slipped around something up ahead.

  The ribbon led to the very place he’d stood, and I followed it the moment he disappeared, sliding and skidding uphill over the loose slate. A tumbling sound followed by a clatter worried me. Was I higher than I thought I was?

  Night breezes blew around me, whipping up my light shirt and short jacket. I needed to dress warmer. The woolly collar around my neck wasn’t going to be enough to keep me warm if the night grew much cooler.

  Find it, find it, find it.

  Whoever had left this ribbon trail must have been single-minded about her purpose. That voice that echoed through the spiritual trail she’d left was loud and strong.

  The ribbon trail took a sharp turn and I followed, smacking my forehead into a rocky ledge. I bit back a curse. I needed to check both the ground and the air with my staff if I didn’t want to do that again. I rubbed my forehead, fighting against the sharp pain.

  I was still seeing stars as I tapped out a clear space with the staff. I was heading into a cave. Not a good idea when I didn’t have any idea where it led.

  It felt even colder within the rocks – as if winter hid in this cave while it was autumn outside. I worked my way slowly, tapping, tapping, tapping. It had better not drop off in here! If it did and I didn’t notice, I could fall to my death. I’d heard of that happening to people in caves. It was why you were always supposed to bring a light with you – though a light wouldn’t do much of anything for me right now.

  Loose rock in thick piles skidded under my soft boots. Had someone dug this cave with a pick, or was it naturally formed? And should I be worried about bears or other big creatures who preferred caves for shelter?

  The golden trail took a sudden turn upward and I felt up with my hands, careful to keep my head low. No hitting it on the rock this time, thank you!

  There was a ledge in the rock above me. You wouldn’t be able to see it from the entrance, but it was thick and strong. I carefully twisted my body so I could reach my hands into the rocky shelf.

  The trail ended here.

  I held my breath as I reached. There! Something cold and metal to the touch! I dragged it out from the ledge and clasped it to my chest.

  I’d found something!

  I felt it carefully. Was it a cage? It was the length of my forearm – maybe a little shorter and taller than it was fat with a handle at the top and woven wire around the outside and a solid metal bottom. Yes. A small cage like you might keep a bird in – if you were cruel enough to trap a bird and keep it from the sky.

  As I touched it, it sprang to life, glowing an eerie bluish-green. I felt drawn to it and repelled at the same time.

  I’d found something! Could this be the Cage of Souls my mother had talked about?

  I couldn’t wait to show her. With a smile, I turned around to leave the cave and the breath whooshed out of my lungs.

  The golden ribbon was gone.

  Chapter Ten

  No, no, no! My thoughts were foggy and lightning fast as I tried to manage my spiking emotions.

  What was I going to do? How was I going to get home without my ribbon to guide me? I scrambled out of the cave, my staff tapping to find the entrance.

  My breath was too rapid, making thought even harder. I was worse than lost. I was blind and lost. And I’d been so confident just a minute ago! I bit my lip.

  There it was! The entrance.

  I collapsed onto the ground in relief. At least I wasn’t lost wandering underground. I just needed a minute to sit, staff in one hand and cage in the other. I took tally of where I was, trying to be logical about it and not let screeching anxiety block out thought.

  The air was cold – so it was still night, then. I had no easy way back home – in fact, without the ribbon or the ability to identify landmarks, I was pretty much lost. And since I’d never been here before, it was safe to say that other people from the village weren’t out here picnicking or collecting berries. I wouldn’t be able to call for help.

  At least I was physically well, except for being blind and my eyes stinging from where the branches struck them.

  I wanted to cry.

  But brave girls who just found ancient artifacts that might save everyone don’t cry, right? I sniffed back tears, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand and then wiping it on my short coat and jerkin. No tears. At least I had my belt knife and tinder – for all the use they would be.

  I tried to think about strengths I had. I could see any Shining Ones who came creeping around – that was more than most people could see. I should be grateful for that. I could have been left with no sight instead of at least having second sight.

  Yes, that was an advantage. I took a long, settling breath letting my single advantage remind me that I wasn’t helpless and that meant I wasn’t hopeless either.

  But my eyes still stung. I needed a way to protect them. I couldn’t close them, or I’d lose even the little bit of help from second sight that I had. Would I still have that if they were covered – maybe loosely?

  I dug into my pocket and pulled out the scarf my mother had given me. It still glowed bright – a swirl of colors and beauty. With care, I folded it into a long slender roll – not too thick, but enough to provide some protection. Hopefully, I could wrap this around my eyes light enough to keep them open but tight enough to protect them from scratching branches. I brought it up, tying it tightly around the back of my head.

  Color filled my vision.

  I gasped.

  My sight was back. What ...? How ...?

  I was sitting on a rocky ledge – sharp in shadow and gilding light. The first rays of dawn spread over the rippling landscape like pouring honey over a cake. The golden light bathed the hills and filled up the runnels, pouring ever outward as it flowed from east to west.

  I could see so far from here beyond where the road out of town became a twisting path as it shot toward the kingdoms bel
ow and out to the sea.

  My heart lurched at how high up I was, but the temporary stab of fear was nothing compared to the wonder of seeing again.

  Was I ... healed? Maybe father had been wrong all along and the Travelers had magical abilities woven into their articles. This scarf had done something to me. Did I dare to believe it had healed me?

  The golden half-light of early morning was so beautiful that tears sprang up in my eyes. Warmth and gratitude spread over me. Even if it didn’t last, even if I just had it for now – oh, it was beautiful!

  Down the mountainside and to the west, Skundton could be seen – a cluster of smoke trails winding up to the sky in a little clearing.

  My parents would be waking there. Hopefully, only now noticing that I was gone. Or better yet, assuming I was out in the village already.

  And I would be able to bring them this cage.

  I lifted it up to inspect it and gasped. It was nothing but a rusty old birdcage. It had none of the power I’d felt in the cave or seen with my second sight. The teal glow was gone.

  What had happened? I scrambled back into the cave. Maybe it only worked here. But it still looked dull and useless in the cave. I’d ruined it somehow. It was worthless now.

  With a sigh, I went back out into the sun and held it up, disappointment thick in my heart. I’d failed at this, too.

  Or had I? Perhaps this magical gift – this scarf that brought back sight – perhaps it changed how I saw the cage.

  Curious, I slipped the blindfold off and the world went black. Only the cage burned bright in front of me, glowing with eerie blue-green light. Magical swirling letters rimmed the top and base of the cage, flowing into one another in a way that was unreadable but beautiful. I tried to pick them out, squinting but it only gave me a headache. I couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that this was a powerful weapon of my grandmothers before me.

  Wow!

  I looked up, but the world was dark again, only faint glowing shadows and flickering stars of light remained. The golden dawn had disappeared. I swallowed disappointment down. The scarf hadn’t healed me at all.