“To kill them?” I squeak out.
He shakes his head. “To offer them riches—anything they want, if they’ll reverse the curse. But so far, there’s no trace of them. We’re pretty sure they’re hiding somewhere between Dawn and Dusk.”
I nod like I understand, even though sometimes the things he says don’t make sense.
When we get to the bridge, I guide us to the right.
“There’s a small step here. That’s it,” I encourage as Kirian’s boot lands on the wood. “Once we get to the other side, the clearing isn’t far. So, the kingdoms… what do they fight over?”
“Lots of things. Most recently, grudges over past wrongs and political disagreements. Historically, the land of Dawn and Dusk has been a great source of contention.”
“Dawn and Dusk. What is that, exactly?”
“It’s unclaimed territory. An enchanted strip of land between Night and Day.”
He’s talking about time as if it’s a location.
I glance at the sky and try to imagine what a place like that would look like. “I don’t understand.”
Kirian shrugs. “My world isn’t like yours. Here, science rules. There’s an explanation for everything. It’s not the way of things where I’m from. Some things just are.”
“Weird.” I shake my head. “What’s so great about this place? People are willing to kill each other over it, so I assume it’s special.”
“Indeed, it is. It’s a sacred place where ceremonies are performed, like weddings and coronations. It’s where we bury all our dead. Certain plants grow there. Flowers and vines that can’t be found anywhere else. They make healing tonics, magical potions, and wine.”
“Like honeysuckle wine?”
He makes a sound of confirmation. “Yes, but the honeysuckle doesn’t belong to the Night Realm, so I look for it elsewhere.”
“Speaking of that, we’re here.” The big field is dried up from the winter. “Like I said before, it’s not the right time of year for…” I trail off because Kirian steps forward.
Bending down, his fingers trail over the yellow brush. “These will work just fine.”
There’s a smile in his voice, and when he straightens, he holds out his arms with his palms facing the ground.
At first, nothing happens. Then I feel it. A shift in the air. A vibration under my feet.
Leaves, twigs, and stems around Kirian begin to move. They grow and twist, before turning green.
All I can do is watch, speechless, with my mouth hanging open while Kirian literally brings life to the area around us. Honeysuckle trumpets bloom, turning toward him as if they can’t help but be drawn to him.
I understand how they feel.
When he’s done, he drops his arms and grins.
I kind of want to fall down. Propping my shoulder against a small tree, I steady myself.
“You weren’t lying about any of it,” I say, dumbfounded.
“Of course I wasn’t. I don’t lie.”
“I just wasn’t sure until now.”
“I inherited two powers,” Kirian states proudly. “I can control the weather and nature.”
Beyond impressed, I pluck a red wild strawberry near my feet and pop it into my mouth. It’s sweet and perfect. The air feels warmer, and it looks like it could be the middle of June around here.
Kirian takes a small burlap bag out of his pocket. At least, it appears small until he unfolds it. And unfolds it again. And again. It gets bigger and bigger. He finally stops when it’s about the size of a pillowcase.
“Entertain me while I work.” Kirian gathers the honeysuckle, finding it by smell and feel before tossing it into the sack. “Do you sing?”
I scoff. “That would be a big no.”
“Are you a poet?”
“No again. Oh, but I have a book. I just got it from the library.”
“Read to me, please.”
It’s the please that gets me.
“Well, since you were polite about it…” Smiling, I rummage around in my backpack until my fingers close around The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C.S. Lewis.
I’m already on the third chapter, but I remove the bookmark and start reading out loud from the beginning. As I tell a story of a magical world, I can’t help but notice the parallels between fiction and fact.
The words spill from me, and Kirian and I fall into a comfortable companionship. I earn laughs when I increase the inflection of my voice with the characters’ dialogue. Every now and then, Kirian tosses me a strawberry, and it tastes better, just because it came from him.
At some point, I shed my coat. As the afternoon turns into evening, the temperature rises as if we’re inside a greenhouse.
The sun is setting when Kirian stops and announces, “All done.”
He shuffles over to sit next to me and drops the bag between his legs. It doesn’t look very full, and that must be magic, too. He cleared a lot of flowers, probably enough to fill five trash bags.
Well, he got what he came for. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“I have to before the portal closes,” he says, sounding regretful. “It’s getting smaller.”
“How do you know it’s closing up?”
“I can hear it. Portals use a lot of magic. For one, they freeze time for me, so when I go back it’ll be like I never left. But they can’t stay open for long. It shrinks as the sun goes down. If I miss it, I’ll be stuck here overnight until someone can come retrieve me.”
“That wouldn’t be a bad thing. We could spend the night in my treehouse.”
“And I’d miss a year in my world.” He taps the side of his head. “I don’t want to lose my pointy ears.”
“That would happen?”
“Probably not in a day, but eventually, if I stayed here long enough. The body adapts. Anyway, it wouldn’t look good for the future King of Valora, ruler of the Night Realm of the South, to disappear for so long.” He proudly thumps his chest.
“That’s one heck of a title. Why not the north, too?”
“My uncle rules there. He controls the Dream Realm. Before I was born, he challenged my father for it. They almost killed each other.” The way he says it is so nonchalant. “They decided instead of fighting, they’d just divide up the territory.” His eyebrows furrow with a thought. “I bet my uncle regrets it, though. Since he’s a king now, his son Damon was affected by the curse as well.”
“It’s a shame your dad and his brother don’t get along.”
He lifts a shoulder. “It’s not any better on my mother’s side. Her brother is king of the Day Realm, but obviously, we don’t have warm feelings toward him either. He has a son as well, so I have two cousins I’ve never met.”
“Someday, when you’re king, you could change it. You could make everyone get along.”
He gives me a cocky smirk. “I like the way you think, young one.”
“Do you have time for a snack before you go? I have pudding cups in my backpack.” Snatching the bag behind me, I grope around for the two desserts and plastic spoons leftover from lunch.
I always bring extras. Not for me—for anyone who might want to share. It’s sad that I go to school armed with treats, hoping to convince someone I’d be worth sitting next to in the cafeteria. Maybe I should stop doing that. I’ll save all my pudding cups for Kirian.
Peeling back the film, I stick the spoon inside and hand it to him. He takes a tentative bite.
His face brightens as he makes a satisfied sound. “What flavor is this?”
“Butterscotch.”
“It’s really good.”
“Right?” I smile before digging into my own.
We sit together among the sounds of nature while we eat our snack. Birds chirp happily as they bask in the warm clearing. A few rabbits come out to nibble on the strawberries and dandelions, and I hear the buzzing of a few insects.
Kirian’s scraping up the last bit of pudding when I muster up the courage to ask, “Will you come ba
ck again?”
“Of course. I need to find out what happens next.” He reaches for the book, but his hand lands on mine instead. He doesn’t move it, and a thrill runs through me. “Thank you, Quinn.”
Suddenly, dozens of tiny butterflies float up from the ground. They flutter around me before landing on my shoulders, my head, my arms. One even pauses at my nose, seeming to give me the lightest kiss.
I giggle.
Somehow, I know Kirian’s not thanking me for the flowers. Maybe his people don’t treat him as an equal because of his disability, but I couldn’t care less. I think… I think it’s safe to say we’re friends now.
“Anytime.” I flip my hand and squeeze his fingers. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”
He sends me a grin. “See you next year.”
Quinn
15 Years Old
Tears trickle down my cheeks as I stomp through the woods. I wipe them away, but new hot tracks take their place. I’ve spent the last hour trying to get my emotions under control, but I can’t wait any longer. As it is, Kirian might already be gone. Not getting to see him at all would make this day ten times shittier.
My spirits lift when I hear a twig snap to my left.
“Why are you crying?” The voice is deep, familiar, and soothing.
I sniffle. “I’m not.”
“Liar.” He steps closer. “You’re sad. I can feel it. Besides, the grasshoppers already told me you’re upset, so you might as well let me know what it’s about.”
“Can we just… not?” I really don’t want to replay the devastating events. Plus, if Kirian finds out what happened, he’ll be pissed off, too. Then we’ll both be in a bad mood. So I change the subject. “I brought a book.”
I hold up the hardback, but when I see the title and cover, I sheepishly set it on a nearby tree stump. I was in such a hurry to leave the house, I’d grabbed a random book off the shelf, but it’s one of my mom’s racy romance novels.
I’m not making that mistake again. Been there, done that. A few months ago during the summer, I didn’t feel like running to the library, so I borrowed something from my mom’s collection. It was—uh—educational for both Kirian and me.
“I don’t feel like reading.” Thoughtfully tapping his chin, Kirian circles me. “I’d rather talk.”
I shake my head.
When he wants something, he’s relentless. I guess that’s what makes him worthy of leading an entire kingdom.
He’s only a foot away from me now, and I can feel the warmth radiating from his large body. I’m used to his size now, even if standing next to him does make me feel like a little shrimp.
Within the first week of knowing each other, Kirian’s childhood slipped away right before my eyes. In a matter of days, he became a strong formidable man, while I stayed the same awkward girl I’d always been.
I’ll never forget the first time I saw him with a full beard. It made him look so much older. More rugged.
Today, his face is covered in short stubble. His muscles are bulky and defined, and his hair is almost waist-length. The long strands are formed into dreadlocks and decorated with shiny black beads.
Adult Kirian is breathtaking. No surprise there. Apparently, the fae stop aging at their physical peak, which is about twenty-five years. Kirian grew to a towering six and a half feet. I’m just under 5’ 6”, so he’s an entire foot taller than me.
Putting his arms out, he goes to hug me.
I dart away. “Don’t.”
His lips turn down. “Since when do you hate hugs?”
“Since… now. Starting today.” That’s a big fat lie. I want nothing more than to melt into him, but then he’d know how ugly I am.
He pauses, listening to a sound I can’t hear. “The grasshoppers tell me you’re full of shit.”
I almost smile.
Kirian’s become a fan of human swear words.
Apparently, that first day when he said the word ‘strike,’ the shock I felt wasn’t a coincidence. Thousands of years ago in his world, a fae wizard put a spell on the profanity. Since then, whenever someone says it out loud, it causes a rise of static electricity, leading to an unpleasant spark for anyone nearby.
Luckily, ‘strike’ is easily interchangeable with the F-word. Like a good friend, I’ve taught Kirian all about the versatile use of ‘fuck.’ However, sometimes when he’s really pissed, he reverts back to the fae way of saying it and I end up getting shocked.
“Well, if you won’t tell me what’s going on, then I guess I won’t tell you my news.” Kirian paces in front of me, his boots rustling the fall leaves with every measured step. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”
I roll my eyes. Sensing the silent movement, he smirks.
“Is it good news?” I ask hopefully. “I’d love to hear something happy.”
“Ah, ah. Only if we make a deal.”
Tricky fae. He knows I can’t resist. Not when it comes to information about him. By now, he knows my mannerisms, my habits, and my weakness when it comes to secrets.
“You’re this close to caving.” Pinching his fingers together, he stops a few feet to my left.
Sometimes his ability to read me freaks me out.
“Fine,” I agree with a huff. “You first, though.”
A grin splits his face when he says, “I’ve earned my spot on the throne. I’ll be crowned king within the next fortnight.”
My stomach drops. “You found her? Your mate?”
I rarely ask about that anymore. In the past, curiosity has gotten the best of me. I used to question him constantly about his soul mate. Then I realized I don’t want to know the answer.
Someday, he’ll stop coming here.
Maybe today is the last time I’ll ever see him.
I’m about to start crying again when he replies, “No.”
I can’t stop the whoosh of air leaving my lungs.
I shouldn’t be relieved. Kirian didn’t just end up being my friend—he became my best friend. Best friends are supposed to wish good things for each other. I should want him to fall in love and get his eyesight back.
I’m a selfish jerk. “They’ll let you be king without a queen? I thought that was frowned upon.”
“Frowned upon, but not illegal. The curse has made things difficult, but we can’t let the kingdom suffer for it. My father is tired, and he needs a successor. I’ll be a great ruler, with or without a queen.”
“I know you will.” Forgetting to feel sorry for myself, I smile along with him. “I’m proud of you. Congratulations.”
Kirian lifts his arms again, inviting me in, and I can’t resist anymore. I go to him, wrapping my arms around his torso while pressing my head to his sternum. His steady heartbeat is loud under my ear, and it’s a comforting sound.
“What’s this?” When he tries to stroke my hair, he finds exactly what I was wanting to hide.
“This morning—” Sniff “—on the bus, the kids behind me took turns spitting gum in my hair. I had to go home so my mom could try to get it out, but there was so much of it. The only solution was to chop my hair off. My hair was one of the only pretty things about me, and now it’s gone. I’m hideous.”
I burst into sobs, and my tears soak Kirian’s shirt while he pets my head. The stylist tried to keep it as long as possible, but I still look like a boy.
“Those striking bastards,” Kirian cusses.
Since we’re so close, the strong spark from the forbidden word ignites against my cheek.
“Ouch.” My hand goes up to the spot.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Backing up to cup my jaw, he frantically rubs my face with his thumb to take away the sting. “Tell me who these criminals are,” he demands, his tone hard. “Fae hair is very precious. Damaging or stealing it is a punishable offense in my kingdom.”
His rage and threats pull a genuine laugh from me. “I’m not a fae, but thanks anyway. That’s not how it works here. My mom is going to talk to their moms. They might wish for an exe
cution by the time she’s done with them, though.”
Kirian grunts out a dissatisfied sound as his fingers flit down to the straps of my dress. “And what are you wearing?”
“Tonight is the homecoming dance at school,” I answer, miserable as I look down at the pink glitter and tulle. “I was planning to go, but I can’t with my hair looking like this.”
I only put on the gown to appease my mom. She spent a lot of money on it and she’d convinced herself she could talk me into going to the dance if I felt pretty.
Well, wearing a two-hundred-dollar dress only enhances how out of place my head looks on my body.
Hard pass.
Kirian clears his throat. “You were supposed to go to this ball with a… suitor?”
“A suitor?” I glance up at Kirian’s pinched expression. “Oh, you mean like a date. No. No one asked me. I was just gonna show up by myself. I don’t want to miss out on the fun high school stuff just because people don’t like me.” A fresh wave of wetness fills my eyes when I think of tonight. “I just wanted to be normal. For one night, I wanted to feel like I fit in. That’s obviously not happening. Not now. Not ever. I give up. I’ve already got plans to ask my mom if her homeschooling offer still stands.”
Kirian pulls me in for another hug. “Quinn, you won’t ever be normal. You’re too kind, too smart, and too beautiful to ever be lumped in with those imbeciles.”
“Thanks,” I say. It’s the acceptable response, even if I don’t agree with him.
“Milady, I would be so honored if you would allow me this dance.” When he backs away and offers me his hand, his shirt sleeve rides up.
I gasp when I see a one-inch band of red blisters on his skin. “What happened to your wrist?”
He shrugs. “Iron shackle. Gia challenged me for the crown.”
“Again?”
“And I won.” He grins. “Again, and for the final time.”
Disgusted by the cruelty of Kirian’s own family, I bite the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying something awful.
After knowing him for two and a half years, I still don’t understand the way of the fae. Bloodshed is just a description of a regular Tuesday to them. They’re often violent and ruthless.
The Fae King's Curse Page 3