by S L Mason
With all the feelings pent up inside me and the myriad of questions in my mind, I blurt out the most burning of all.
"If you're the prince in charge of this challenge, then what is it?" I demand.
He never turns his head and climbs into the carriage. "Now, now, it wouldn't be fair for me to inform you ahead of the others. You will find out at the same time they will. Isn’t this fun?" He clicks his tongue and winks at me.
I wanted to scream at the bastard. A cough comes from over my shoulder. "We will be happy to wait and find out with the others, your Grace." Janice’s calm remark angers me.
I turn and verbally pounce on him. “Why did you interject?" I demand.
"There's no point in kicking a dead horse. He’s never going to tell you. But it certainly gave him a lot of pleasure to watch you squirm. Why would you give him such entertainment?" Janice crosses his arms while raising both eyebrows.
"He might've told me something," I grumble. I can hear how foolish I sound, but I’m nervous and angry. I want this over with.
"You will never get what you want from Deston. All you’re doing is entertaining him, while he terrorizes you. He'll take great delight in it, Sarah. We’re playing the long game. When this is all over if you wish, you can seek gratification in torturing him," Janice says, pointing out the obvious.
A smile curls my face at the idea of making Deston dance to my tune, bending him to my will.
Ice fills my veins. That's what ‘they’ would do. That kind of revenge is for the weak, and it's not what I want. No amount of revenge would give me back my life or any of the other lives lost. Toying with the idea makes me no better than them.
I shake my head. “No, you'll never get me that way. Why even suggest that?" I scoff.
Janice counters, "So you can reaffirm it’s not who you are. What I saw yesterday, the way you treated Titom, it looked very Fae." Janice crosses his arms.
Our carriage comes to a stop, and I don't reply. I don’t wish to discuss it in front of the rest of Deston’s Castle. I climb in for the ride.
Breaking the uncomfortable silence, I continue, “Now that we've done the reality check for the morning, what do you think the challenge is?" My eyes trail the landscape outside the window, keeping time with the lurching of the carriage.
“Until we reach our destination,” he rambles on.
I interject in surprise, “You don't know where we’re going?”
He shakes his head. “I don't. Deston told the drivers, no one else. Until I have more information, I can't possibly provide you with a plan or an idea." His hands clench and unclench.
"Great, you’re my trainer and the Minister of war, yet you don't even know where the war’s going to be.” I wasn’t angry at him, just angry at everything. I’m under their control, a piece on a chess board to be moved and maneuvered until the end—check mate.
CHAPTER 6
The ride is short, and as I step out of the carriage I survey the terrain. A large horse arena stands off to the side with a hint of stables around back.
“Deston has brought us to his breeding stables.” Janice takes in the surrounding area. His stance is open and ready for an attack.
The footman offers me his hand to help me down from the carriage. Janice leads me to a pen of humans in various staged of transformation. My eyes drift over the other girls. Only two hair colors exist, white and black, but the sea of white in front of me tells me all I needed to know. The chance of a Seelie winning is low. I can understand how easy it is to embrace the fear inside yourself when all you see is death while being inundated with the violence and betrayal.
Hands clap together then begin rubbing back and forth over my shoulder. “Awe, Sarah, you will make me proud today for sure,” Deston’s voice ebbs over me, cloaking me in a mucky brain fog. I blink to clear my eyes and mind. He continues, “I can show no favorites, my love. But I wish you well.” He lifts my hand to his lips, and a thrill zips through my body—along with a gag reflex.
The lie in his words rings in my mind, but my retort gets lost in the malaise, never to reach my lips. Deston drifts away and gains a footing on his floating throne. He waves a hand in the direction of a white-haired Fae on a high, floating platform.
A shoulder collides with my back, knocking me off balance. I stumble a few steps then regain my equilibrium. “You can’t even keep your feet under you, you’ll never make it on a horse. Stupid human.” Nikki’s voice is nothing more than scraped nails down a blackboard, creating irritation and goosebumps everywhere she goes.
I didn’t turn to look at her. I don’t want to meet the effeminate features, which are so like Nick’s and yet not. Nick’s hair had been brown and his eyes hazel-green. Nikki is now green-eyed and white-haired, and baiting is all she’s good for.
“Have you gone deaf too?” she demands as her hand shoves me.
I whip around, slamming the side of my hand into her throat. She stumbles back, choking and clawing at her neck.
“Save your strength for what’s to come, Nikki. Stop wasting your time on me,” I retort.
The hum rises in her chest, along with the hate in her eyes. I allowed the rumble in my chest to create my shield. She releases her magic, only to batter against my protective barrier.
The deep baritone of powerful magic issues a command, cutting our altercation short and delaying the inevitable. “Stand down, fair Nikki, we shall triumph in the long run. Stop toying with the lesser life forms.” Jacques’ command is enough to pull her back. Apparently, she’d become his pawn or pet, not sure which.
She huffs, turning on a dime, and shoves her way to the front rail.
I spy Jacques from the corner of my eye. His appraising gaze misses nothing. He blows me a kiss and drifts away on his floating platform with his crew.
Deston’s herald raises his hands, throwing a silencing wake over the assembled crowd.
“My fellow Fae, we gather once again to witness the challengers, battle against all the Hallowed Hills has to offer. Their ability to push back against the rule of wild is the only path to winning.” He pauses to allow the crowd their moment to roar with approval. Then he claps his hands, causing a loud cracking sound to reverberate over the area. “Our challengers have all shown their aptitude to control magic through song. Most have displayed their true colors and allegiances to a court, whether it be Seelie,” hissing fills the air only to be drowned out by the singing of what I can only describe as angelic, “or my personal favorite, Unseelie.” His chuckle is joined by many. A deep rumbling vibrates the fence posts around us, causing every living thing to tremble.
My eyes seek out Deston. He stands tall on his platform with his arms raised, mouth open wide. The wakes emanating from him are thick with power. His eyes bore into me. The sound rips into my ears and claws down my throat. I can’t turn away from him. As the vibrating raises, my ears quake in time with pressure. The noise rattles around inside my head, causing my vision to grow fuzzy at the edges.
Just as quickly as the sound came, it is cut off. The girl standing next to me slumps to the ground. Red blood flows from her ears, and as I crouch down I feel for a pulse. Her head lolls to the side to reveal fixed, staring blue eyes not yet glowing with the inner Fae light. She’s dead, not Fae enough to survive the Unseelie call.
“Oh my, I think our little display may have inadvertently killed a challenger,” the herald remarks, clapping both hands in front of him and laughing as many in the crowd follow suit. “Back to the matter at hand. There is only one rule. You must ride your horse and command it to return you to this arena. There is no time limit. If I were you, I’d hold on tight, for if you fall it could lead to a terrible fight.” The herald gives a close-mouthed giggle. “Choose your ride and choose it well, otherwise it can be hell.” He snorts at his own turn of phrase.
I swallow. Horses. Why does it have to be horses?
“Horses are easy to control, they only require a firm hand,” Janice states.
I blink up at
him. “You’re kidding, right? The only horse I’ve ever ridden is Puca. And he’s not a horse.”
“You survived. He’s Fae, so there is no better training to be had in all the realm,” Janice remarks.
Searching his face, I can detect no lie or deception. He is in earnest.
“Hold tight to the bridle and keep your body on the horse. That is all you need to do. Every horse eventually returns home to eat or to sleep. They like the comfortable and familiar.” Janice’s logical response irritates me. It all sounds so easy, but the pessimist in me doubts anything in Fae is ever that easy.
I want something more, but he leads me to a small paddock and the fate that awaits me inside.
CHAPTER 7
The creature gleams a fabulous blinding white in the light. Fae illumination makes everything appear magical and pretty. This is a horse, or at least it looks that way from the back side. In Fae, nothing is what it seems.
What is it with Fae and horses? The Puca transforms teenagers into horses, Puca is a horse sort of, sometimes, now this.
The lacy fur fringes its hooves, and it flicks its tail, causing the hair to flow like a cascading waterfall blown by the wind. Its fur gleams sleek over its hindquarters, exposing the powerful muscles itching to move. It turns its head, revealing a sharp horn protruding from between its eyes.
“It’s a fucking unicorn?” I sputter. The laugh I want to release is lodged in my chest as its eyes land on me. My mouth goes slack with fascination.
“It’s a Kelpie, and it will kill you. They use their beauty to draw you in. Whatever happens, don't fall off his back or he’ll tear you apart, though only in the water. On land, you are perfectly safe.” Janice informs me.
My head whips around to meet Janice’s pinched face. His hands press a rope into mine.
“It’ll eat me? Unicorns are man-eaters? What will you Fae come up with next?” I shake my head and enter the corral.
The wakes moving off the Kelpie are gentle, and they message everywhere they touch. He emanates his own song designed to enchant me. It whispers of love and adventure. Lowering his head, he invites me to climb on to his back for a ride. His eyes lure me to caress him. It is a drugging magic. My will is not my own, and I’m compelled to touch it. My hand stretches out as my heart speeds up— I need to touch the unicorn. He lifts his head and snorts while turning his oily black eyes to me. It sings of happiness unending with him. The stallion stamps his foot in irritation at my reluctance.
“Any contender that does not complete the challenge will be fed to the Pixies,” the herald’s words ring out and chill me, causing goose bumps to rise. My eyes meet those of a Fae named Rogue. He winks at me. Fae have the uncanny ability to wink one eye without moving any other muscle. The only other creature I know capable of that was a cat.
I bet he’s the Original Rogue, the one all else have been named after. Jerk.
It makes my flesh rise and my back itch. The leather bodice and shirt covered the bulges now protruding from my spine. Soon I won't be able to hide my hideously contorted body.
Turning my mind back to the animal in front of me, I sing a sweet song of love. The rope in my hand turns and twists on itself, wrapping around the unicorn’s neck. I weave it into a halter. Then, changing the musical magic, I braid the reins in with the stallion’s mane.
I cut my magic and leap onto the Kelpie’s back. He dances to the side, and his muscles tighten up. The hum from my chest flows around us, along with the braided reins.
I create a magical seat belt. It locks around my waist, weaving itself into my belt, and buckles.
The Kelpie rears, coming down hard on the ground. He screams with irritation at my magical changes. His tail whips around and beats at me. I grip his sides for dear life with my legs. Chomping and grinding come from his mouth as he shakes it from side to side. Then, he turns enough for me to see his eyes roll from the oily black to fire red. He doesn't have whites, but why would he? He’s Fae.
Wind pushes at me and stings my cheek, and an itchy, wet feeling inches its way down my neck. I reach to scratch it, only for my hand to come away bloody. Readjusting my seat, I turn— the white tail is tipped a bloody red.
“You fucker, that’s my good side too.” I swirl my hand in the air, changing the magic wake around us. Then, I open my palm and push it at his tail. The hair tangles into a knot where the spine ends, making it look more like the stump of a pit-bull’s tail, rather than that of a regal horse. The stallion screams while leaping into the air and as it takes off at a dead run for the water.
Awe fuck, what the hell had Janice said about Kelpies? I can't recall. The water’s edge races to meet us— and it appears to be a stream.
He leaps into the air and the wind whistles past my ears before gravity takes over plunging us both into the watery depths of an ocean like stream.
Blinking away the salty sting, I press my lips together, holding on to as much air as possible.
My fingers whiten with my grip on the bridle. We sink deeper and the pressure on my chest increases.
I won't survive this way. Frantic fear takes over as I thrash, kicking the sides of the kelpie and yanking its mane.
His skin shivers, as does his magic wakes. Then, starting at the nose and flowing back his coat of fur flattens and smooths away into the oily scales, which reveals his fish-like nature.
His tangled mane changes into a dorsal fin. My rope loosens and I begin to float away. Thinking fast, I wrap the loose rope around my left hand. His hindquarters changed into a giant tail moving back and forth. He isn't a unicorn anymore, instead he is part horse, part fish.
The water horse rushes forward, causing the rope to yank my arm and drag me along behind him. My body aligns with his, and every few seconds his strong tail slams into my lower legs.
In a panic, I open my mouth to cry out, and the salty water rushes in to claim the vacant cavern in my chest. Then, I panic, thrashing my arms and legs in a feeble attempt to reach the surface and air.
I'm going to drown. That’s what Janice said. They make you pass out from lack of air then eat you while you’re still alive.
Who would ever think a unicorn was pretty?
In my mind’s eye, I see blood dripping from the muzzle and the sharp teeth of a shark filling its mouth. One hoof atop my trampled head with my entrails spread out around my body. That is never going to happen. Death by unicorn, no fucking way.
My desire changes the beating of my heart from a thump to a rumble. It vibrates the water around me, lifting the pressure on my lungs. But there is no air down where we are. The ocean knows no end in Fae. I’ll fight it till my dying moment, but water is free and flows where it wishes.
Pressure mounts in my skull, pushing in from all sides. Everything takes, on a fuzziness. I can't focus — it’s the same as it is around Deston.
Tension in my chest eases, and my cheeks curl at the sides into a stupid grin. The thought of Deston always brings fog. It settles over my mind, slowing my response time. I breathe out warm water that had sat too long in my lungs.
Pain shoots up my left leg, and my eyes clear as my brain screams for more air.
The Kelpie turns, slamming my body into the side of his neck. My face squishes against flaps in the skin. It only has the head of a horse — his neck is covered in gills. They open, releasing warm water, then close. The Kelpie's head moves forward, then pulls back in a rhythmic motion.
The rumble in my own chest changes. Opening my mouth wide, I pull water into the deepest reaches of my lungs. In my mind, I picture a fish and its gills on my neck.
Hot water jets over my shoulders and the pressure in my body equalize. Air… sort of fills my needy lungs and blood. The screaming in my blood vessels eases, drifting away with the warm water flowing through my gills.
The magic changes from a rumble to a purr as my skin hardens. The pressure on my cranium disappears, allowing my ears to release the trapped air. Sighing in relief, I have reached parity with the sea.
> With narrowed eyes, I spy Aqualis the water nymph following us.
“I suppose you’re here to take over the seas? I say no.” Aqualis spats, then slithering up and down with the movements of her liquid body, pushing to keep up with the Kelpie.
“I don’t want to take over, you silly fish, I just want to survive,” I retort.
She narrows her eyes, allowing a smile to spread, revealing rows of long sharp teeth. “Only the strong survive Fae.” She replies, then stretches out her hand— it carries a dagger. In one motion, the rope is severed.
The ache in my shoulder eases and I float away as the Kelpie continues on his way. The rope around my wrist untwines revealing the chewed skin where the rope had eaten into my flesh.
Aqualis instructs, “Eat, Zephyr my pretty. She will be a tasty prize.”
All the while she trails a finger from the Kelpie’s nose up between its ears. Its oily black eyes instantly turn red, and it dives for me.
All those hours running and fighting with Janice weren't wasted. My muscles tighten, ready to spring. Zephyr’s head lowers the closer he comes, angling the horn at me. I hum webbing into my hands and feet.
My rope halter hangs loosely around his neck. Underwater breathing has equalized my buoyancy, so I didn't sink or rise, only linger in one spot. The motion of the water itself moves me. If I time it right…
Zephyr’s momentum pushes a large volume of water at me, and I kick to the side just as he reaches me. He turns his head, allowing razor-sharp side fins to slice into the flesh of my tricep; salt pours in while blood and cries pour out.
I missed my chance, and I watch as the end of the rope pulls away, along with Zephyr’s tail.
Aqualis taunts, “He won’t miss again, little human. You may have Fae in your blood but you will never be one of us.” Her laugh ripples through the water. An orange, cloudy haze lingers in the water surrounding me.