High Fae Academy - Year Three: Paranormal Fae Romance

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High Fae Academy - Year Three: Paranormal Fae Romance Page 7

by Kaylin Peyerk


  “Ready to get a move on, princess?” Orin asks.

  “As ready as I'll ever be.”

  We walk toward the stable house together in comfortable silence. His arm is around my shoulders and I'm tucked closely against his side. The warmth of his fire magic bleeds into me and leaves behind a steady comfort that I didn't know I needed. It's a feeling different than that of spirit. While spirit brings a certain serenity, fire is the epitome of comfort when slow burning.

  When the stable house comes into view, it's much larger than I had thought it would be. It looks like an elongated barn. Inside, there are over fifteen stalls with various horses of all colors and sizes. The same white mare I had ridden the day before waits for me three stalls down on the left.

  While Orin walks away to grab the reins and saddles we need for the horses, I step up to her and give her snout a few loving strokes. She neighs softly and nuzzles my hand in greeting. The horses around her stomp their feet, almost as if they're jealous of the attention she's getting. A soft laugh escapes me.

  “They seem to like you,” Orin observes.

  “I'm not sure why. If you don't include a few days ago, I had never ridden a horse before. I grew up in southern Florida in a tourist town. There weren't many horse farms around.”

  He smiles. “Sometimes I forget that you come from an entirely different world than mine. That day that I met you in your rundown bar in Florida I was convinced that we had found the wrong girl. But then I saw the fire in your eyes, and the waves of the ocean, and the song of the wind. Then I knew.”

  We lock eyes and he gives me the warmest smile.

  “Thank you, I kind of needed to hear that right now. Reminding myself of where I came from helps me to realize exactly where I need to go. Does that make sense?”

  “That makes perfect sense. It's especially true for fae. Since we're a species that lives much longer than any other creature on Earth it's hard to remember all the details of our long lives. Thus, it's important to remember exactly who you have always been to remind yourself of that. Always remind yourself of your core values.”

  Without another word, Orin sets the saddles and reins behind me before opening the stalls on either side of the white mare. Two horses come clopping into the hall. Both are massive black stallions that hold a power all their own. They stand there with a calm precision, one that I'm sure was achieved through rigorous training. He saddles the horses before gesturing toward the white mare.

  “You can saddle her if you want. I brought a third that will fit her. How about you give it a try?”

  My hands sweat and I rub them on the back of my jeans. “All right, I'll give it a try but there's no promise I'll be able to do it correctly. You'll have to double check my work.”

  I step up to the stall and unlatch the door, and she gracefully moves to stand beside the other horses. Then I pick up the awkward, heavy saddle equipment while trying to figure out which way is forward. The mare snorts before kneeling in front of me to make it easier for me to strap the saddle around her middle.

  I do so while watching Orin out of the corner of my eye to make sure I'm strapping it on correctly. After doing so, and being confident in my work, I pull the reins up and around her head; she again assists me in doing so.

  After we're done, I pat her on the nose. “You are one smart horse. Looks like we're going to be having many journeys together over the next few weeks.”

  Orin comes over to double check the way I had put the saddle on and makes a satisfied noise. “You've done it correctly the first time just as I thought you would. I hope that you guys will become close. Fae, especially earth fae, can have special bonds with animals. Damon has a horse at the end of this barn who only listens to him and only adores him. Perhaps that's a bond you can build with this mare. But first you have to name her.”

  “She's a full-grown horse; doesn't she already have a name?”

  “No, only bonded creatures can have that sort of relationship with its owner. At least here in the fae realm, I know that to be true.”

  I turn back to her. “Interesting. Then I will name you Clover, do you like that?”

  She nuzzles into my hand, and I take that as a yes. Orin gestures for me to take her reins and follow him out of the barn. He leads the other two horses back to the spirit dorm. Once we're there, Rowan is standing outside with three bags at his feet. He was tasked with gathering food and clothing for all of us while Orin and I went to the stables.

  “Ready to go?” Rowan asks.

  “Yes, let's get going. Orin told me that the Fire Kingdom is a few more hours away then the Air Kingdom was. And that the terrain is harder to traverse.”

  After securing the bags to each of our horses, Rowan helps me up on mine. Orin had already mounted his and is waiting at the head of the trail. After Rowan is up on his horse, we push them to move into a brisk canter. Seconds later we're into the woods and on our way to the great Fire Kingdom.

  ***

  Instead of going east, we head north into the mountains. Orin wasn't kidding when he said that the terrain would be horrible. Our horses can't trot at an easy pace as they move up a mountainside. So, most of the trip for the first day is slow-going, but Orin promises that it will be better tomorrow on the way down the mountain. Many travelers coming from the academy to the Fire Kingdom have to travel the mountains. Which is why there is a small town at its peak that caters to the travelers through the mountain pass. It's where we will be staying tonight.

  I would never tell Rai, but I much prefer the aesthetic of the Fire Kingdom over the Air Kingdom. Here, all of the leaves range from burnt orange to flaming red in color. It reminds me of fall in the United States, and of the road trips my father and I used to take along the east coast. Even the grass beneath the hooves of the horses is a burnt amber color.

  Orin falls back to ride beside me. “I can see the wonder on your face. Do you enjoy the Fire Kingdom?”

  “It's beautiful. Have you ever traveled anywhere in the human realm?”

  “I can't say that I have, other than to get you. While other fae have the ability to travel between the realms, the masters tend to stay put due to our responsibilities.”

  “Ah, that makes sense. All I was going to do was compare it to the Fire Kingdom. I've noticed that the kingdom doesn't seem to have seasons. The human realm—well the parts of it that have a milder climate—is subject to changing seasons. The Fire Kingdom reminds me of the fall when all the leaves on the trees die and turn shades of orange, gold, and brown.”

  “When does that happen each year?”

  “It’s a two- to three-month period starting in September. It has always been my favorite time of year if only because you can wear warmer clothes after the summer months. Which I assume is what the Water Fae kingdom is like. The Air Fae Kingdom felt like a perpetual state of spring.”

  He taps his chin. “Is interesting to hear you talk about it this way I've never known anything else but perpetual fall then. It makes me want to see all of the kingdoms more often.”

  I shrug. “In the future, you might be able to after the war is over and the kingdom's main focus can be on something else, perhaps tourism.”

  “Tourism?”

  I laugh. “Never mind, I guess that isn't something you'd understand.”

  We move along for another few minutes in silence, only the breathing of our horses can be heard along with the crunching of rock beneath their hooves. My breath fogs in front of my face as the temperature drops. We see fewer and fewer trees, and the road ahead is full of jagged boulders. Our horses are forced to move together when the trail thins, becoming a true mountain road. Rowan rides closer to my horse on the left, while Orin flanks me on the right.

  “How much longer?” I say between chattering teeth.

  “Not much. Here,” Orin says, extending one hand toward me.

  Warm heat waves wash over me, making me groan in pleasure. Rowan creates a heat funnel as well that encases me in a total cyclone of w
armth. And when I open my eyes, they’re both smirking, replacing my happy mood with a sour one.

  “What are you smirking about?”

  Rowan holds up his hands. “Nothing, it’s just that you’re really embracing this queen thing.”

  I scowl. “You offered out of the kindness of your heart. If I had really been acting like a queen, I would have ordered you!”

  Orin chuckles, moving his hands back to the reins. “Stop teasing her. I think she’s about to pop a blood vessel.”

  I groan at their shared amusement and am about to give a snarky reply when a low growl comes from just over the next rise. My eyes snap in the direction of the sound to see three very large mountain lions blocking the trail. Their eyes are full of bloodlust and hunger, making me shiver. Rowan stops his horse in front of mine while Orin pulls up behind me.

  “Uh, what are we doing? Aren’t we sitting ducks in this valley?” I ask nervously.

  “Those aren’t the only ones,” Rowan replies without looking at me. “If mountain lions are known for anything, it’s traveling in packs. Some have undoubtedly circled behind us.”

  “Okay, so just blast them with magic. Surely mountain lions are no match for us.”

  Orin lays his hand on the small of my back. “You should’ve learned by now that nothing in the fae world is that easy, Tiana. These creatures are all over this mountain, and one yowl will bring all of them to our location within minutes. And while it would be easy to fight five, we would not fare so well against three hundred.”

  I gulp. “Yeah, that’s understandable. So, what do we do?”

  Rowan encourages his horse forward, moving slowly toward the cats at the top of the rise. Orin urges Clover forward with a small pat to her rear, and she follows behind Rowan closely, leaving virtually no room for anything to squeeze through. A hiss comes from behind me, but I refuse to look back. Orin is there; he will protect me from them.

  “Tiana?” Rowan asks, not looking at me.

  “Yes?” I whisper.

  “When they pounce, and they will, I need you to leap from your horse. I know your injuries are still healing, but do your best, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  We inch closer to the top of the valley, and the three mountain lions pace back and forth, high-pitched yowls building in their throats. My palms sweat, and my grip on the reins slips, forcing me to wipe them off on my leggings. Rowan and Orin appear calm on the outside, but their muscles are coiled tightly, ready to strike. The mountain lions that I had guessed to be behind us circle around our horses, forming a tight knit cage. My heartbeat ratchets up as my eyes dart from side to side, trying to find a way out.

  What I want to do is throw fireballs to destroy them before they can even make a sound or force the wind out of their lungs so they can no longer breathe. But Rowan had advised against that and it would probably be best to follow his orders. While I am the queen, he is the king. He has always been the king. If there is some way to use magic to get out of this mess, he would have done it already, I'm sure of it.

  “What do we do now?” I ask at the top of the high rise.

  “I thought that they would think better of it,” Orin responds, “but they haven't. Now we fight.”

  “Fight? I thought you said that if we did that even more would come, and we'd be outnumbered.”

  “Desperate times come with desperate measures, isn’t that what you humans say?” Rowan asks, almost condescendingly.

  “Don't patronize me, I know exactly what to do to shut these mountain lions up so we can get out of here alive.”

  Rowan scowls, and for the first time, I think he's actually angry with me. Before he can reprimand me some more, I surge forward, leaping off my horse in a dead run. There's nothing that these men can do that I can't do better, and I'm sick and tired of them saying that they have to protect me.

  This time I'll protect them.

  Fire swords blaze into my hands and I whip them out in front of me, creating a barrier for any lion that dares to come closer. I walk with a subtle limp on my left side, but it doesn't slow me down. Using the wind, I whip it around myself, taking the air from all of the creatures’ lungs, not allowing them to call any others for backup. After I cut down the first two of them, I look back at the men behind me.

  “Well? Are you going to help or not?”

  They leap into action, and Orin pulls his staff from the saddle while Rowan conjures flaming throwing stars, a wicked grin on his face. We stand back-to-back as the remaining mountain lions circle us, looking for any weaknesses. They won't find one. We stay as a group, not allowing ourselves to be drawn out to become quick and easy prey. The wind whips around us again as I continually pull the air from the cats’ lungs.

  “My main objective will be to make sure that they can't call for reinforcements,” I tell the others. “You guys work together to take the four in the back while I deal with the final two in the front. Got it?”

  “Yes,” they respond in unison.

  In one fluid movement, we’re all off, bounding toward our adversaries, flames blazing in our wake. Orin and Rowan work back-to-back, and I can see out of the corner of my eye that they are in perfect sync, as if they were made to fight together. The remaining wild cats in front of me attempt to yowl, but no sound comes out, I make sure of that.

  The mountainside holds snow and slow-moving rivers around us. So, I douse my fire swords and allow the magic to dissipate in favor of utilizing water. The snow and ice answer my call, rumbling dangerously after me as I sprint forward. One cat is impaled by wayward icicles before lunging toward me. I bring my hands up and around my head before thrusting them forward, forcing water down its throat, drowning it instantly. The other lion circles back, weary of its adversary, and I grin.

  It turns to flee but I don't allow it as snow falls, sealing the rise in front of us. The creature presses its back against the snow in fear. If it wants to attempt to take our lives it does not deserve to get away safely, but what I will allow is a swift death, by impaling it with thick shards of ice.

  When I turn toward the others, they’re finishing up the last of them, and setting them aflame. I do the same with the two carcasses before me and they're eaten up in seconds, ashes floating away in the breeze. We look at each other then, all of us breathing hard from the near-fatal situation.

  Once the adrenaline fades and the men grab our horses for us to continue the last leg of the journey to the small inn we’ll be staying at tonight, guilt coils in my stomach. When did I become so accustomed to death? Is that the fae in me becoming even more pronounced? Two months ago, I wouldn't have even considered killing those animals.

  Hell, it's a frozen tundra out here. They were probably just looking for easy food and chose the wrong prey. I'm beginning to understand that the supernatural world is a kill or be killed environment. No wonder war has ravaged this continent for years upon years. And I'm the one who claims to know how to stop it? Am I kidding?

  Stop thinking that way, Rowan chides.

  It's impossible for me not to. The moment my faith in instincts fade my human ones resurface. I keep telling myself that I'm not built for killing, or for violence. But what does the fight that just happened make me? A hypocrite?

  As you thought before, the supernatural world is a kill or be killed environment. You are either the hunter or the hunted. There's no in-between. And while I support your dream of bringing peace to the fae lands, not every part of this world will become safe. Just as not every part of the human realm is safe. People do what they have to do to survive, and you can't fault them or yourself for that. It's the abuse of power that should be punished.

  You're right, I just wish you weren't.

  I know.

  We move on in silence for the rest of the trip, all of us seeming to mourn the lives that were lost for our own safety. Despite all of the death and killing that is inherent in the fae culture, I don't think they enjoy it. While they do not have the same kind of feelings that humans do
, I do know that they can feel some kind of empathy.

  A few hours later, I am too lost in my thoughts to realize that we arrived in the small town at the top of the mountain. Well, I'm not sure you can even call it the town. The only thing here is one large inn and a tavern, nothing else. Orin leads us to the back of the tavern where a small stable house made of rickety wood stands. We tie the horses up there and fill the water troughs before making our way inside for some food.

  “I'd stick to getting the meat and potatoes here,” Orin states. “The cook doesn't know how to make much else.”

  “Good to know. Is the mead any good?” Rowan inquires.

  Orin raises his eyebrows. “The mead is always good in the fae kingdoms no matter where you go.”

  A jovial voice comes from behind the bar, startling the three of us. “You're right about that, son. I haven't seen you through these parts here lately. What brings you back home?”

  I turn to find an overbearingly large man standing behind the counter. He has long sand-white hair similar to Orin’s, and seafoam-green eyes. An iron broadsword is strapped down the middle of his back and knives layer his belt. This must be the barkeep, and it's clear to me that he shouldn't be messed with. But despite his size and array of weaponry, Orin smiles at the man in greeting.

  “Hello, Ronnie. Long time no see. My party and I will get three rounds of your meat and potatoes and six tall cups of mead.”

  The man tips his nonexistent hat. “Coming right up, after you tell me what you're doing here.”

  “Fine. I'm on my way to see my father in order to present to him the new King and Queen of the Fae Realm. That's who's standing before you, so are you going to keep them waiting any longer?” Orin raises an eyebrow.

  “Of course not! I'll have the cook whip up something good for you,” he says quickly before pausing to wave another stout-looking fae over to us. “Take these important guests to a table in the back. Then come see me.”

 

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