Rae of Hope

by W.J. May

  “But surely she can’t want to kill you!”

  Katerina had only observed them for a short time, but despite the dangerous banter there was a playfulness to the way they interacted. She’d even go so far as to say they were friends.

  Dylan shrugged good-naturedly, as if these things could seldom be helped.

  “It’s what she is—you can hardly blame her. Just like you can hardly blame those vampires.”

  Oh yeah? Why don’t you watch me blame…wait…what?!

  Katerina froze perfectly still, a beautiful statue amidst the frenzy of the bar. “Did you say…vampires?”

  Dylan took a swig of whiskey, staring at her over the rim of the glass. Unable to decide whether or not she was joking. In the end, he decided to take her at her word.

  “What did you think they were—men? And honestly,” he gestured to her with a careless wave of his hand, “what did you expect?”

  “Excuse me?” Her eyebrows shot into her hair as she bristled defensively. “What the hell is that supposed to mean? I should expect to get attacked, just because I’m a woman on my own—”

  “You’re covered in blood.”

  Well, that stopped her in her tracks.

  At first she just stared at him, convinced that she must have misheard. Then a couple of things started clicking into place. The glass that had broken over her head when she’d first walked through the door. The one she’d hoped was red wine. The way the four pale men had stood up the second they laid eyes on her, sniffing the air eagerly as they wound their way through the crowd.

  A drink for me, then, the vampire had said. Just a taste.

  Katerina reached up to touch the damp hood of her cloak in horror.

  Well, no wonder! It’s like walking around with a giant ‘EAT ME’ sign around my neck!

  “You could always take it off,” Dylan said casually, gesturing to the slick fabric. “Unless you’re going for the whole goth-chic look. In which case, you’re taking it a bit too seriously.”

  Instead of taking his suggestion Katerina pulled the cloak tighter around herself, glaring at the beautiful man with growing dislike. “Is everything a damn joke to you—”

  “Why were you looking for me?”

  There was no preamble. No wind-up to give her any warning. People living on the outskirts of the kingdom had learned long ago to dispense with wasted words. They cut to the core of a matter. No pretenses. No delays. Just the cold, hard truth.

  Still…she didn’t know exactly what to say. It was no ordinary secret she was carrying. It was the kind of secret that could topple an empire. The kind of secret that could get her killed.

  After a second of waiting, Dylan shifted impatiently. “All right, let’s start with something easier. Why don’t you tell me your name?”

  Crap…not easier at all.

  Katerina blanched, her mind racing as she simultaneously blanked on every single human name. When those didn’t work, she decided to go with an inhuman one. “Marigold.”

  Dylan leaned back in surprise, his sky-blue eyes taking in every detail of her face. It was clearly not the answer he’d been expecting. “Your name is—”

  “Marigold sent me to find you. She seemed to think that you could help me.” Katerina fumbled quickly in her pocket, pulling out the note. “Here. She said to give you this.”

  He didn’t reach for the note. He didn’t even acknowledge it. It lay on the table between them. A silent invitation.

  One he clearly had no intention of accepting.

  “Marigold sent you to find me,” he repeated slowly, testing out the words for truth. When Katerina only nodded his eyes narrowed slightly, fixing with unnerving intensity on her face. “Well, if you met Marigold, then I take it you met her sisters, Freya and Nair.”

  “Nixie and Beck?” the princess answered, rising to the challenge. “Yes, we’ve met.”

  He gave a slight nod, temporarily satisfied. But still, he had yet to even look at the note, and Katerina’s skin had broken out in a cold sweat. Finally, after a full minute of silence, he took a swig of his drink, hardly blinking as the aged whiskey burned down his throat. “So why is Marigold under the impression that you need my help?” he asked bluntly. “I’m assuming you’re in some kind of trouble.”

  An image of her brother’s hell hounds flashed through her head, and Katerina stifled a shudder. Trouble? Yeah, you could say that. She almost felt guilty bringing it to his door. “The thing is, I’ve sort of…run away from home.” She hesitated nervously, editing on the fly. “My family will have sent people after me, the kind of people who make those vampires look tame, but I can’t go back. No matter what happens…I can’t go back.”

  She’d tried to keep her voice as steady as possible. Tried to ignore the hell hounds, and the frightening tavern, and her blood-soaked clothing. She tried to tune it all out and simply force herself to keep pushing forward. But after everything that had happened…it was a lost cause.

  A visible tremble shook her shoulders as the tiniest sigh escaped her lips. It was a sigh of pure exhaustion. As defeated as it was resigned.

  Dylan didn’t miss a thing.

  His eyes swept over her with growing curiosity. Curiosity, and another emotion that was harder to identify. Was it sympathetic? Was it protective? For a split second he glanced down, and it looked as though he was going to pick up the note right then and there. But a stronger, more practiced, side of him held back. The side that had learned to keep his head down and mind his own business. The kind that had learned the hard way not to get tangled up in the troubles of strangers.

  Instead, he stalled for time. Rehashing the facts. Getting the full sum of the story.

  “So I take it you ran away from home straight into Marigold’s arms? And you’ve been hiding out from these familial repercussions ever since?”

  Katerina nodded quickly. It was obvious there were quite a few gaps in her tale, but if he was going to be gracious enough to overlook them she certainly wasn’t going to press. “Yes, that’s right.”

  There was a slight pause before he broke her gaze and looked down at the table.

  “And she sent you to me?” A faint smile ghosted across his face before he drained what was left of his whiskey, muttering under his breath. “Interfering, self-important fairies…”

  By now, Katerina was on the edge of her seat. Hardly daring to move. Hardly daring to breathe as she watched his every move. Waiting to see what he would do next. “So…does that mean that you’ll—”

  “Sorry, princess. Can’t help.”

  In a brisk movement he was up from the table, leaving the whole dismal story behind him as he headed for the door. He’d left the note, too.

  Katerina stared after him in shock. Unable to believe it was true. Unable to believe that the fairies could be so wrong. That their hometown hero was leaving her to fend for herself. It took a second for her to find her feet. For her to snatch up the note and race after him.

  “Wait!” She pushed open the heavy door and ran out into the street. By now, the full moon had risen high above the little village and a gust of frigid air hit her right in the face, stunning her senseless. She squinted her eyes as she tried to find him in the dark.

  It wasn’t easy. Unlike the bright colors and opulent shades of the castle, everything here seemed to be in earth tones. Worn creams. Dirtied browns. Dark, weathered boots. It wasn’t until he passed under the light of a distant store front that she saw him again striding purposefully into the night as the moon streaked silver into his dark hair.

  She took after him without a second thought. Tearing down the middle of the road. Pushing past whatever scattered pedestrians were still left on the street. Hardly noticing anything going on around her, until she’d shoved him in the back as hard as she could.

  “What the he—” He whirled around in surprise, but by that time she’d already recovered her balance. And her anger.

  Her arms were folded tightly around her chest, and her eyes flas
hed pure fire as they burned into him in the dark. “So that’s it?!” she demanded. “You’re just walking away?!”

  He blinked incredulously. “Did you just push me?”

  She pushed him again. “Like it never even happened! Like we never even met!”

  He stumbled backwards in surprise, staring down at her ineffectual hands. “What are you—six?”

  “I will NOT make any apologies!” she shouted. “I am fighting for my LIFE!”

  He stared at her in shock for a moment before recovering himself, smoothing down his disheveled clothes and raking his fingers through his hair. “And I wish you the best of luck with that. But it’s not going to involve me.”

  He tried to turn again but she grabbed his arm, pulling with all her might. For a moment, he merely stared down at his sleeve, both astonished and exasperated at the same time. Then he seemed to take pity on her and reluctantly turned back. Either that, or he didn’t want to rip his coat.

  “So the fairies were wrong to trust you,” she spat, channeling every bit of misdirected rage into a single moment, onto a single target. “You’re not a savior, you’re just a drunk.”

  He opened his mouth to answer, but seemed to think better of it. There was something too desperate about her to challenge. Something too despondent to engage. Instead, he merely agreed with a tip of his head. “That’s me. Just a drunk. And I’d best be getting home.”

  She threw up her hands with a bitter laugh—all the fears and emotions of the last few days catching up as hysterical tears began pouring down her face. “Of course you should! Please, don’t let my impending death keep you from any of the fascinating things I’m sure you had planned for the evening. Mucking out the stables, feeding the pigs…”

  His eyes flashed as they glanced about the darkened street before he reached out suddenly and grabbed her arm. The tears stopped immediately as she stared up at him in terror. She knew this man could fight. She knew this man could kill. And here she was, yelling at him in the middle of the street, giving him every possible motivation to do exactly that.

  “Three things.”

  While he was clearly just as incensed as she, he didn’t raise his voice to make it known. He lowered it instead. Speaking in a dangerously soft clip.

  “First of all, you don’t know a thing about me or my life. So keep your delightful opinions to yourself. Second, no one in this world is under any obligation to help you. Do you understand? You chose to leave, that’s it. You’re on your own. Simple as that. Don’t go around expecting a hand up, because that’s just not the way things work around here.”

  He released her arm just as abruptly as he’d grabbed it, leaving her trembling and shaken in its wake. The reality of her situation was beginning to settle upon her but, strangely enough, she didn’t blame him in the slightest. He was right—he was under no obligation. Nothing that had happened had anything to do with him, let alone was his fault. He was just a man whose name she’d heard from a trio of lunatic fairies. The nightmare? The men chasing after her in the night?

  Those were hers to deal with alone.

  “What’s the third thing?”

  He looked down in surprise at the sudden change of her tone. The lifeless sort of resignation that dulled her sharp words. It was as if a light had gone out. One that wouldn’t rekindle.

  “Excuse me?”

  Her eyes glassed over as she stared blankly into the dark, hardly aware of what she was saying. “You said there were three things, but you only said two. What’s the third?”

  For the first time all night, the hint of an apology flashed across his handsome face. It was obviously a feeling he wasn’t accustomed to, and it didn’t linger long. But it was there for a moment.

  “You might want to rinse off some of that blood. Can never be too careful in these parts.”

  Their eyes met for a fleeting moment before she took a step back. The roaring bonfire had simmered down to coals, and her time in the tiny village had come to an end. In the morning she’d be leaving, for better or worse. Her lips twitched up in a lifeless smile as she nodded in farewell. “Thanks for the tip.”

  Before he could open his mouth to respond, she was already walking away. Sparing not a glance behind her. Keeping her bloodshot eyes locked on the shadowy road. When she was about halfway back to the tavern, she rifled around in her pocket and tossed the note from the fairies onto the street. She wouldn’t be needing it. Not anymore.

  Just one night, then you’ll leave this place behind. Just one night, then you’ll start off someplace new.

  Little did she know the night was just getting started…

  Chapter 5

  The room Katerina booked for the night looked like something she’d find in the servant’s corridor back at the castle. A simple cot. A rickety dresser. And a thick taper sitting on the windowsill to allow for light. On second thought, it was more like a room she’d find in the stables.

  Nevertheless, she locked the door quickly and sank down into the center of the sagging bed, glad to be away from prying eyes no matter the circumstances. Although she’d only left the fairies a few hours before, and had only left the castle a few days before that, she felt as though she’d been running for as long as she could remember. Running and looking over her shoulder. Terrified as to who might be running after her. Petrified as to who she might see.

  With an exhausted sigh, she pulled off her cloak and settled down beneath the threadbare comforter, ignoring the pieces of straw that poked through the mattress. She quickly added the cloak as a secondary blanket, vowing to clean off the blood first thing in the morning.

  Can never be too careful in these parts…

  Dylan’s words echoed back to her as she lay there in the dark, a chilling reminder that the real world was nothing like her childhood storybooks. That life had grown harder, and the people had hardened with it. There were no heroes or happily-ever-afters. Empathy, optimism, and the belief in miracles had long since died. The most people wanted now was to simply survive.

  And she must become one of them.

  With another shaky sigh, she blew out the candle and closed her eyes. Praying she wouldn’t dream. Praying she would simply fall asleep.

  But it wasn’t meant to be.

  * * *

  CRASH!

  Katerina’s eyes shot open with a gasp as the wooden door to her room was kicked clean off the hinges. The blinding light of a dozen torches came pouring in, and before she could make sense of what was going on—before she could even identify her attackers—she was being lifted straight out of bed and dragged down the stairs. Her bare feet knocked painfully against the steep steps, and by the time she reached the ground floor she finally caught her breath enough to let out a scream.

  But a single scream was all she got.

  The second she cried out, she was struck over the head with something heavy enough to leave her in a daze. Her eyes fluttered open and shut, and her head dropped weakly to the side as she was carried out of the tavern and into the freezing night.

  “What…” she murmured weakly, trying to stay awake. “What’s going on—”

  There was a sharp slap, and her world darkened once more. It didn’t come back into focus until she was suddenly dropped onto the wet street. She lay in a daze, staring up at her attackers.

  …not that she had to look up too far.

  Dwarves?

  She couldn’t believe it. As the world blinked slowly back into focus, she found herself face to face with the same group of creatures she’d seen earlier in the tavern. The ones who were greedily eyeing her fancy travelling cloak. At the time, she’d been too preoccupied with far more immediate concerns to give them much thought. But now, it was easy to see that this was their plan all along.

  Fortunately, they cared not for her. Only for her money.

  “You’ll speak when you’re spoken to!” The same dwarf who had slapped her raised his hand in warning. He did it once, he’d do it again. “Until then—you’ll ke
ep quiet!”

  “Yes, but we need her to speak,” another dwarf grumbled under his breath, one hand fiddling nervously with his long beard. “To tell us about her relations.”

  There was an awkward beat of silence as everyone froze.

  “Yes, I was just getting to that!” the first dwarf snapped defensively, glaring down at the fallen princess as if it was somehow all her fault. “You, girl, tell us about your family!”

  My family?

  Katerina went pale as ice, kneels curling into her chest as she stared up at the ring of little men circling her. They weren’t much to look at from afar but she knew now that, despite their size, they possessed unnatural strength. And the fact that they were asking about her family—

  How could they have possibly guessed? What could they possibly know?

  “My…my family?” she stuttered, staring helplessly around the ring. She was on the verge of making a run for it but they had her completely surrounded, and she had the sneaking suspicion the little bastards were a lot faster than they looked. “What do you mean?”

  “What do you think he means?” A dwarf with a giant ear-horn spat on the ground as the tiny fellow hovering near his elbow glanced nervously down the street. “Where do your people come from? How many of them are still alive? How are we to get in contact?”

  Katerina flinched at from his tone, but she was still at a complete loss. Not only did she have no idea what they were trying to get at, but she was understandably a little distracted by the deadly collection of weapons the gang was wearing on their belts.

  A man wielding what looked like a pick-ax was especially intimidating.

  “I’m sorry…get in contact?” She looked from one to the next in a panic, trying desperately to understand. “Why would you want to—”

  “Do you not get what this is, lady?!” The dwarf who’d spat on the ground before took an angry step forward, waving his little arms. “We intend to ransom you! Clothes like this means you obviously come from money, and since you’re travelling alone I’m willing to bet that whoever lost you would be willing to pay a lot of money to get you back! Honestly, are you stupid?!”