by Eve Redmayne
Unearthed boulders crashed towards the Klieg-thing. And she craved more of the intoxicating havoc. The last time she’d let go so fully was when she’d punished Braum. Her smile widened at the memory she remembered now with a bitter fondness.
Braum. A pang of worry hit her. She needed to get his soul back into his body, and soon. Her eyes shifted back to the green man huddled in the enormous chasm. Should she just kill him? It’d be so easy—
Just as she raised a finger to finish him off, out of the corner of her eyes, she saw a small child toddle away from its mother, directly into the path of the colliding ground. The curly-haired tot fell and cried out, arms uplifted as he waited to be rescued. But before Jessica had the chance to move, a wave of heaving dirt swept him up, fully entombing the child before he could utter a peep. The mother raced forward but a man, shaking with grief, jerked her back.
Forced from her reverie, Jessica dived headlong into the pit without a second thought, calling a halt to the ever-widening canyon as she plummeted. The sudden silence, stark.
She fumbled through the dirt but brought up nothing but fistfuls of earth. Christ, she couldn’t kill a baby! Her eyes dimmed, and blood pounded in her ears as she searched. Her knuckles scraped against rocks as she rummaged until finally, she brushed chubby flesh. Balling, she pulled back on the sodden cloth wrapped around its bottom and yanked the baby free.
Clutched to her chest, the child made no sounds at first, merely looked at her with accusing eyes, before wailing in earnest. With a growing wet-spot around her midsection, she landed and handed over the filthy toddler. “I’m sorry,” she said as the baby glared at her then buried his face in the woman’s shoulder. “I never meant to hurt your child. It doesn’t look like he—she, was harmed.”
The father cleared his throat several times. “He,” he finally managed, eyes weary, his wife and child wrapped protectively in his arms.
Jessica stumbled away, shamefaced. She hadn’t given a second thought for anything other than her own selfish need to make the Klieg-thing suffer.
“So, you stopped, I see.”
Startled by a feminine voice, Jessica spun around to stare at the vision, floating beside her. Now, this was a faerie queen. Black hair, the color of a raven’s wing, spread over her shoulders, and a crown of wildflowers encircled her head. Wings, gossamer thin and iridescent, gleamed in the sunlight. Naked as the day she was born, pert breasts tapered to a slim waist, that spread to full hips and thighs, which narrowed to slight ankles and tiny feet. A faint shimmer, like she’d rolled in glittering sugar, overlaid soft, brown skin.
“I’m so glad you’re a good fae and not a bad one.” The woman landed and placed a warm hand on Jessica’s cold cheek. The crowd around them sighed in relief.
“What do you know about me, anyway?” Jessica asked on a sob, still shook up about the baby. “If you can really see into my heart, you’d know I was just relishing the destruction of a man. I’m anything but good.”
“Don’t feel that way,” the woman scolded. “Even good fae have bad inclinations sometimes. It’s what you do when it counts that really matters.” She smiled again, teeth impossibly white, and squeezed Jessica’s arm. “What do you say we fix this mess together?”
Jessica nodded, willing to agree to anything right now. The scar she’d created yawned before them. No way she could fix that.
“Watch me,” the woman said.
The faerie’s magic emerged like spring, palest lilac, and baby’s breath pink. Jessica emulated her actions, her magic the sunset, all hot pinks, and fiery oranges. As their magic intertwined, the land shook and crashed in reverse, and great mounds of earth hurtled back together. They walked forward in unison, filling in the wound as they went.
Once they were back where the cottage had stood, Jessica’s eyes flicked to a slight movement. It was the Klieg-thing, so dirty she wouldn’t have otherwise noticed him. He opened his eyes. The whites gleamed against dirt-covered body as he moaned and got to his feet.
“Monarch,” he rasped, coughing out puffs of dust. He ignored Jessica and focused on the woman beside her, head bowed in deference. “My eternal gratitude for rescuing me. Please allow me my retribution against this female who’s caused me much harm.” His eyes glittered with rage.
“Oh, Beedle,” the fae scoffed, “enough.”
Jessica almost laughed when the woman’s words sank in. His name was Beedle. She’d been right, he wasn’t Klieg—oh lord, Braum! Her heart clenched. She opened her fist, letting out a relieved sigh. The steely light was still there, a little crushed, but whole.
“You can’t deny me my revenge,” Beedle hissed, his gaze flicking over Jessica. “She’s caused me irreparable damage by releasing all my souls. I must start over and want to begin with hers.”
What was with this guy and souls?
“It was her right to avenge herself and her husband. You know the rules…” The faerie’s eyes went vacant as she thought a moment. “Oh yes,” she laughed, sending her wings aflutter, “seek no harm against another fae.”
Beedle scoffed. He brushed away the dirt covering him from head to foot, exposing the deep green of his skin. “I know the rules.” He spat on the ground. “But it seems our queen doesn’t. Mayhap it’s time you passed the throne onto someone younger.”
Jessica blurted, “You’re the queen?”
“Indeed.”
“What is he?” She pointed at Beedle.
Monarch grinned. “Care to answer?”
He stammered. “Sh-she shouldn’t be able to see my true form. None but a fae can see a faerie in disguise, unless we reveal ourselves to them, which I have not. Unless”—his eyes grew wide and he scrambled backwards — “she’s a shadow fae. Here to poison our community and turn us into blood-sucking savages!”
Jessica sensed the panicked beating of his heart and wondered what a shadow fae was. Add that to her ever-growing list of questions.
“Try again.” The queen crossed her arms and examined Beedle. “Your eyes are getting bad in your old age, else you’d see exactly what she is.”
“Monarch, I know not.” He squinted at Jessica.
With a sigh, the queen fluttered towards him. “You were the one to make the deal, Beedle. You should know what kind of arrangement you’re making before it bites you.”
“It was a deal like any other,” Beedle said as he sucked on his lower lip, a bony finger tapping his chin. “You wouldn’t expect me to be fair.”
“Of course not.” The queen nodded.
He shrugged. “The dwarf said he’d do anything for her not to be dwarven anymore.” His eyes flicked back to Jessica, who finally realized they were talking about Braum.
“So, you tricked Braum out of his soul, on purpose?” Jessica snarled. This little twerp was dead. Again.
“Not tricked,” he stammered. “He knew what I said and agreed to it. It might’ve been unfairly dealt…” He stopped speaking to examine a dirty fingernail with an air of nonchalance.
“Yes…” the queen urged.
“Well, that’s it. The princeling said he wished she wasn’t dwarf, and I asked was his soul worth it and he agreed. Deal done,” he finished hurriedly, his eyes darting between Jessica and the queen.
“You were wearing Klieg’s face at the time, weren’t you?” Jessica accused, bristling with anger.
“Of course, stupid girl.” He rounded on her. “We fae love nothing more than playing tricks and wearing another’s face is one of my favorites. You’d know that if you weren’t such a—”
“Baby,” the Queen interjected.
Jessica turned a confused gaze on the queen. “Baby?”
It confused Beedle as well. “Monarch?”
“She’d know all about the deals and tricks that faeries love if she weren’t such a fae youngling.” She chuckled, fondness glowing in her brown eyes. “Not even a year old and so strong.”
Jessica flinched. “What?”
“Even hindered as you were by the dwarv
en instincts, you battled onward and embraced your fae powers. You even have the battle scars to prove it.” She ran a finger down Jessica’s face, her teeth gritted into a fierce grin. “Nothing’s holding you back now.”
Beedle’s mouth dropped. He smacked his forehead with an open palm. Head bowed to Jessica, he said humbly, “I beg your forgiveness, Princess.”
“What the hell’s going on?” Jessica shouted. Beedle’s attitude was a complete one-eighty. He understood the queen’s cryptic speech, so, why didn’t she? “I need answers.”
Both nodded, the queen with a grin and Beedle with head hung in defeat. A pear tree sprouted next to them, filled to over-flowing with low-hanging fruit.
Jessica fixed her gaze on Beedle. “What… no, who are you? And where is Klieg?”
Beedle quietly explained he was a goblin, a sub-class of faerie. That he’d possessed Klieg’s body and used it as his own. “I tried to inhabit you, initially. When you were running away from the dwarf, just before he wed you in the forest, last autumn. But you have a strong will, so I waited for easier prey. Then the wizard died, so I chose the dwarf.”
She gawped at him. “The wizard?” Anguish strained her face. Whipple. It took a moment before she could speak, but she’d have to mourn Whipple later.
Thinking back, she remembered feeling like someone had been in the woods the day of her marriage. “You were watching me?” Still confused, she turned to the queen. “Your majesty?”
“Monarch.” The queen smiled.
“Your monarch, then,” Jessica stammered, thinking the title strange.
“No, my name’s Monarch.” The faerie took a bite of a juicy pear, unconcerned that pale liquid dripped down her chin. “Of course, I suppose it’s also my title.” She waved the pear about. “It’s customary for the fae to inhabit mortals to get what we want. What’s unusual is your situation. You see, you consumed fae magic at some point.” She shrugged, as though where the magic had come from was inconsequential. “It’s how we increase our numbers, aside from natural procreation, which is questionable at best, now.”
That’s what Willow had thought, that the magic had found her. “So, then I was half-dwarf, half-fae until…” She looked at Beedle, head clasped between his hands. “Until he made the deal with Braum. That removed what made me dwarven which made me…” She shook her head. She’d only just gotten used to being dwarven, how long would it take her to adjust to being fae?
Monarch grinned and nodded excitedly, waiting for Jessica to reveal what she now knew.
“Alright, so I’m fae now, not human and not dwarf. And this goblin stole Braum’s soul.”
“I don’t steal!” Beedle protested. “We made a deal.”
Monarch explained, nibbling the fruit down to the core, “We fae don’t use our magic against one another. It’s one of our cardinal laws, and if broken, the offended party may seek vengeance.”
“So, when Beedle made the deal with Braum and I became fae, suddenly what he’d done, was illegal because he took something—”
“From another fae,” Monarch finished and clapped her hands. “So, the question is, do you feel you’ve achieved the revenge you’re entitled to?”
“What, by destroying his home? I don’t think so.”
“You’re so ignorant,” Beedle moaned, “I’ve lost everything because of you and must start again. I’m weak as a worm.”
Monarch explained about the many types of fae. Some, like Jessica, have their magic’s full strength from the beginning and must only learn to wield it. Others gain their power from collecting tributes: teeth, souls, children… their magical abilities gaining in strength the more tributes they claim. Beedle—the type who collects souls—was powerless now that she’d released his tributes.
“I’ll call it fair—” Jessica said, but thought better of it and hurriedly added, — “if I can return Braum’s soul and make him whole again.”
“Of course.” Monarch chuckled. “You’re learning about deals already.”
Too late, Jessica thought about Klieg. “What about Klieg? Will he still be able to possess him?”
“You’re smart, but not smart as me!” Beedle chortled. “Klieg’s mine. His soul will nourish me as I reclaim my strength.”
“Your husband’s brother can banish Beedle and reclaim himself if he has the strength.” Monarch said, wings agitated.
How much work would it take for Klieg to banish this little twerp?
“How am I here?” Jessica stretched her left hand out before her, its blueness stark in the sunlight. “I mean, in the flesh? Before when I’d go to Braum, it was only my shade.”
Monarch’s eyes glittered. “You’re fae.”
That wasn’t an explanation. “So, poof, I can go wherever I want?”
“There are limitations. You can only travel so far from your leaving-point. But you can always travel to your heart’s desire.”
Unsure what that meant, Jessica moved on. “Do I have to live here?” she asked, voice shrill. Braum wouldn’t want to live away from his people.
Seeming tired of the questions, Monarch shook her wings out and tossed the pear core to the ground where it sprouted into a sapling. “Your heart knows your truest desire—it’s not something you choose. And you’re always welcome here. But remember, if he ever finds his way back to Faerie he’ll not be able to leave.” She nodded at the ember in Jessica’s hand and fluttered off the ground. “I’d suggest the iron trinket he wears back on Orygin never leave his person. It’ll keep him from wandering back, unaware.”
“What about the wings?” Jessica asked. She still had so many questions.
“Your wings are part of you but use them cautiously. If the witches discover you’re fae, you’ll know no end to their pestering. They’ve been after us for ages!”
“I wonder what else’ll change after this?” Jessica murmured, wishing Monarch would stay a bit longer.
“I’m sorry?” Monarch dipped.
“Just that every time I use powerful magic my body undergoes a transformation.” Jessica pointed to her scar and showed the brand on her palm. “I’m assuming I have a purple nose now, or something.”
Twinkling laughter rang out as Monarch drifted higher. “Nothing more will change, you’re all fae now. The powers are yours to wield as you wish as often as you wish. The dwarf blood interfered with the fae magic, discouraging you from using it.” And with that, Monarch flew away.
Beedle bared his teeth at Jessica when Monarch was out of earshot. “See you back on Orygin,” he smirked.
Heart pounding, Jessica stood, ready to return to Braum. Oh gosh, how did she get back?
CHAPTER 41
Orrin threw open the shutters of Braum’s room and gazed over the hills surrounding the outpost. He’d made this walk countless times. Where was she?
Seven days had passed since Braum’s soul fled. He and Willow held vigil over his bedside, pouring herbal concoctions down his throat and ignoring every dwarf protectively clutching an amulet. But always hanging over their head was whether Jessica would return.
When Grif arrived from Grayweather, he’d immediately agreed to let the witches practice their magic at will. “Goddamned bastard had better heal after all he’s put us through,” he’d grumbled, feeling Braum’s cheek with the back of his hand. “I’ve not told Brindle and Bessy about this, for fear they wouldn’t allow your healing craft.”
Such an act of trust for a pair of ragtag witches, Orrin would never have expected of a dwarf. If word got out Grif went against his sovereigns wishes and Braum died… well, Orrin liked Grif, even if he didn’t like Braum.
Between the two of them, Orrin and Willow provided Braum with every healing tincture and strengthening potion they could devise. They spent hours in the hills, searching for any herb or fungus that might help. So far, Braum hadn’t perished, but his heart grew weaker every hour.
“She’ll come,” Willow said, her ear pressed to Braum’s exposed chest. “We don’t know how far she
had to travel.”
“We don’t know that!” He slammed his fist into the wall, sending the panes of the window shuddering. “Her entire being disappeared. What the hell does that mean?” An agitated tick twitched in his cheek.
“You’re right, but what can we do but keep—”
“Goddamn!” he interrupted, nose pressed to the glass. “She’s here!”
A minute before there’d been nothing but empty courtyard, now, Jessica stood looking feral and disoriented. Her gown hung from her shoulders, grass-stained, shredded, and leaving her more exposed than covered.
Orrin turned to rush out, only to have Willow race forward and put a hand on his shoulder. With a shake of her head, she reminded him it wasn’t his place to welcome her with open arms.
He jerked away, a half-formed cursed on his lips, and kicked a log in the fireplace. This was his last chance. Willow had double-checked all his work since arriving at the fort. At first, he’d found the mistrust amusing, but it had quickly grown tiresome. Now with Willow distracted…
Fingers thick, he fumbled in his apron pocket and pulled out a linen pouch. The rippled ridges of its contents sent a shiver down his spine. Poison hemlock seeds—so vile, he dared not touch them with bare flesh. But crush them and add the powder into a drink to ease the dwarf’s thirst… Within moments, Braum would breathe his last.
Frustration burned as Orrin delayed. Was he so weak he wouldn’t kill this unworthy foe? Lips lifted in a snarl, he flung the bag into the hearth. The fire flared and burned away his last chance with Jessica. He was a lot of things, but he wasn’t a murderer.
“Who’s she talking to?” Willow asked, eyes focused on Jessica.
He stormed back for a look but saw nobody.
***
“Why’d you follow me?” Jessica stared at Beedle, wide-eyed. “Aren’t you supposed to be possessing someone?” Though her heart raced, the voyage back to Orygin had been easy. She’d thought about Braum and… here she was.
The goblin snorted. “Please, child, I don’t need to actively possess Klieg. I don’t have time for that. I came back to release him here, then I’m off, searching for new inventory.”