Cry Werewolf (Godhunter Book 20)

by Amy Sumida

  Alfheim had been created by my fey mother, Aednat, when she helped the Norse gods build the Nine-Worlds. My mother had demanded one of the nine (technically eight) worlds as payment. It would be given to her daughter- that would be me- to rule when she became an adult. Alfheim was the chosen world, and it was created to resemble Faerie, so that I would feel more comfortable there.

  After building the Nine-Worlds, Aednat had placed a forgetting spell upon all of the gods involved. She didn't want any of them trying to steal Alfheim from me before I could claim it. It was a good plan, but then the dragon hunts began in the human world, and Aednat was forced to lay a spell of humanity over me, to protect me. She was killed shortly afterward, and never removed that humanity. So I had lived and died as a human when actually I was a dragon-sidhe. Odin, who had often come to visit my mother to speak about the Nine Worlds, kept returning to the French Alps where we lived, despite the forgetting spell Aednat placed upon him. He found me, a version of the faerie he'd admired. That admiration had remained in his subconscious, and I believe it was what had attracted Odin to me, back when I was Sabine.

  Anyway, I died as Sabine, never even knowing I was meant to rule Alfheim. So the temporary ruler, Freyr, had become the permanent King of Alfheim. His reign continued for centuries, until I returned in my new body, thanks to Odin, and ended up claiming Alfheim. The land had been in a sort of stasis till then, just waiting for a faerie to come and wake it up. I had done so accidentally. Simply stepping foot onto Alfheim soil had triggered a buried response in me. That piece of my mother's essence, left with her spell, rose inside me and spoke the ritual words needed for me to break the stasis and claim my kingdom.

  Once Alfheim had been awoken, it couldn't revert to god rule. It needed faerie magic to sustain it. In fact, the entire Nine Worlds depended upon Alfheim's connection to the Great Nine Magics of Faerie which lay in the Source. I thought I'd circumvented this need for a fey ruler by giving up the piece of my mother's essence. I hadn't even known it was there until I gave it away. It was difficult to do, but I left the only surviving fragment of my mother in Alfheim, so that Aednat's fey essence would provide for the land while Freyr continued to rule it.

  And all was well... for a little while. The essence, being a disembodied piece of faerie soul, couldn't connect to the Source, and so it couldn't sustain Alfheim indefinitely. Alfheim started to die, but instead of telling us about it, Freyr hid the land's sickness so he wouldn't have to give it up. It was beyond selfish, since not only would Alfheim have died, but the entire Norse territory. I ended up kicking Freyr's butt out of Alfheim, fixing my broken star on the heart-stone there, and in the process, Brevyn took my mother's essence into himself and took over the rulership of Alfheim. Now that Aednat's essence has a home inside Brevyn, making him dragon-sidhe even though he wasn't born one, Alfheim can receive sustenance from the Source through my son.

  Brevyn didn't need to be in Alfheim for this energy exchange to happen, the land was already connected to him, and could simply pull magic down their bond. But it strengthened both of them to come into close proximity with each other, so I liked to take Brevyn to visit every once in awhile. Also, I wanted Brevyn to have memories of Alfheim, so he could grow to love it, and so that Alfheim's people could connect with their king, and come to love him as well.

  Alfheim was home to the Light Elves, a race of Norse gods who look like they had stepped straight out of a Tolkein novel. I think the Norse myths are actually where Tolkein got his inspiration for the story, but don't quote me on that. One of the light elves, Eamon, was Alfheim's steward until Brevyn came of age and started living there. If he decided to live there. Hell, my son could grow up to be as contrary as his mother, and choose to live somewhere else while leaving Eamon to continue to look after Alfheim in his stead.

  Whatever happened in the future, Eamon was doing a great job in the present. Alfheim was literally blooming under his care. Of course the blooming part was due to Brevyn's connection to the land, but the happiness of the Light Elves was all on Eamon.

  “Sure,” Trevor said, “it's not like we're busy.”

  “Take as much time as you need,” Kirill kissed me goodbye.

  “Okay, it should only be a few hours,” I said.

  I used my ring to go back to Faerie and let Arach know my plans. I checked the watch there. It said 12:32, and the clock back home had read 10:11. So I'd have a couple hours to waste in the God Realm before I could come back to collect Brevyn. I told Arach how long I'd be, and I was about to head to the God Realm again, when he stopped me.

  “I think I'd like to go with you this time,” Arach said. “We can take Rian with us too.”

  “Oh!” I blinked. “Sure. I don't know why we haven't done it before.”

  “Good,” he smiled and kissed me. “Then we'll meet you at the Great Tree in two hours.”

  I headed back to the God Realm, and hung out with my husbands a bit, watching the new Gilmore Girls Netflix special. I always got so annoyed with Lorelei's mother, but I loved the wit in the dialogue. I got into a Lorelei quoting kick that lasted an entire week once. It drove Trevor crazy.

  When time matched up, I traced back to Faerie. Since I was traveling the normal way, I had to enter Faerie through the only tracing point it had, the Great Tree at the End of the Road. Yes, that was its entire title. We generally shortened it to “The Great Tree”. Arach and our boys were already waiting for me.

  Our sleek, royal carriage, with the crest of the House of Fire (a fire breathing red dragon) emblazoned on the doors, sat in the spacious turnabout before the Tree. The Road of Neutrality encircled the Forgetful Forest, branching off into the faerie kingdoms. It also formed a crossroads before the Great Tree. There was a straight path leading directly from the Great Tree, through the Forgetful Forest, and on to the Castle of Eight, the home of the ruling House of Spirit. This piece of the path was considered “The End of the Road”, since it was here that you left Faerie altogether.

  Or returned to Faerie.

  Arach had brought a company of red caps as usual. We weren't taking any chances, not after that debacle with Dubheasa. Not that we had been lax before. We had just become super vigilant. The guards searched the surrounding area warily as Arach and our boys got out of the carriage, assisted by the phooka carriage driver, and Isleen.

  Isleen looked somber. I wasn't all that surprised. You'd think she'd be ecstatic after all the recent romance in her life, but I knew her better. Lugh had made the wrong move. Sure, Isleen had seemed sweet and receptive enough in front of all of those people. But it wasn't like she could have said anything rude in front of every monarch in Faerie. No one likes being pressured, and that stunt had slipped into straight up manipulation. Isleen dug her heels in when someone tried to manipulate her. She was no pushover.

  Lugh didn't even have an inkling that something was wrong until after the tournament, when he had tried to come home with us. Isleen had politely told him to go screw himself (I'm paraphrasing). Arach said that ever since then, Lugh had come by the castle every day, and every day Isleen turned him away. She was pissed. Royally so, if you'll forgive my pun.

  Oh well, I didn't have time to delve into the love life of our new duchess

  “Duchess Isleen,” I smirked at her. I did have time to tease her though. “How fare thee, my esteemed Mother-in-law?”

  “Queen Vervain,” Isleen curtsied while she grimaced, “I am well. But I am not your mother-in-law.”

  She walked over to me and plopped a squirming Rian into my arms.

  “Rian,” I growled at my son, and he stopped fidgeting.

  “A Thaisce,” Arach pulled us close, and kissed me while the boys started to squirm together.

  “Alright,” I said to our children. “Stop that now.”

  “Daddy!” Brevyn cried, and slapped Arach's chest.

  Arach gave me a triumphant smile.

  “You've been prepping him, haven't you?” I gave Arach a sardonic look.

  �
�Perhaps our son simply knows his father.”

  “Couldn't show up in Alfheim without their king giving you your just due?”

  “Come now,” Arach huffed, “it's obvious who I am. I don't need a child to scream 'Daddy' to everyone so I can feel important.”

  “You so do.”

  “It's satisfying,” he conceded as he led me to the expansive trunk of the Great Tree. “Shall we?” he clutched Brevyn tight, and laid his other hand to the trunk.

  I wrapped my free arm around Arach, and we spoke the chant to get us through the wards of Alfheim. The chant pulled us through the Aether, directly to Alfheim's tracing chamber, so even though Arach had never been to the Norse territories before, he could have still traveled there without my help.

  We stepped out of Lysalfheim's (the Hall of Alfheim) tracing chamber, and strode down a white stone hallway. The floor was covered in silk carpets, the walls adorned with living plants, and the ceiling was tightly woven thatch. We passed light elves in flowing clothing, who gave gasps of surprise when they saw us, and hurriedly bowed. Then they ran off to gather the others.

  Arach and I strode into the great hall of Lysalfheim like we owned the place, which I suppose we kinda did. The boys went crazy, clapping and murbling happy, baby words. They waved their hands up towards the open ceiling in delight, baby dragons sensing the sky. Above us, the stone and thatch of the ceiling bordered a rectangular opening. The bright blue of Alfheim's sky could be seen beyond the delicate lace of overhanging tree branches. Lysalfheim had been built in harmony with the land. No trees had been cut down to make room for the hall. Instead, walls were built around the tree trunks, towers and roofs weaving through and beneath branches, so that the castle merged seamlessly into the forest. All the wood used had been taken from trees which fell naturally... in the Human Realm. The Light Elves were more respectful of nature than even the fey were.

  Which was why Aednat had chosen Alfheim for me. She wanted me to have a kingdom which closely resembled Faerie, so that I would feel at home here. She had no way of knowing that I would never see Faerie. At least not in that lifetime. Nor could she know that I wouldn't claim Alfheim until I was reborn in a new body. But enchantments have a way of drawing themselves to a close, and there I was, back in Alfheim, giving it the king it needed.

  I hoped my mother was happy.

  A look at Brevyn's smiling face told me that she was. The piece of Aednat, which now lived inside Brevyn, was thrilled. She had lived on past her death, something most faeries couldn't do, and now her grandson would rule the land she had built for me. There was peace in that, and perhaps a little poetry.

  “Trinity Star!” a collective declaration came from the light elves who swarmed around us.

  Before Brevyn, I would have known that they were addressing me. I was the Trinity Star, because of the nine-pointed star inside me. But now, Brevyn had become that for them. I didn't think he had a star in his chest. He certainly didn't have three trinities inside him. He was a couple short on beasts and magic, but the potential was there. Brevyn could definitely follow in my footsteps. Did that make me proud or worried? I wasn't really sure. I suppose it was a normal for a parent to fluctuate between the two. Proud and worried, back and forth. Usually lingering longer on the worried side.

  I loved my life, wouldn't have changed it for anything, but it was a hard road to walk. Sometimes a very painful one. I wasn't certain if I wanted that for Brevyn. But in the end, my wants didn't matter. It was all about Brevyn and what he wanted. I would support him in any decision he made. Until then, all I could do was raise him as best as I could, and hope that my influence would help him to make the right choices.

  Arach, totally new to Alfheim and the Light Elves, was still a king, and knew exactly how to handle adoration. He smiled and lifted Brevyn so the assemblage could see him better. Brevyn clapped his hands, and waved them about, looking for all the world (all the nine worlds) like he was greeting his people.

  The cheering finally died down, and one of the men split off from the group of light elves, making his way towards us.

  “Queen Vervain,” Eamon bowed, his silky-straight, umber hair falling forward around him. When he stood upright, his pale green eyes were full of joy. “It's an honor to welcome you and your children back to Alfheim.” He turned to Brevyn and bowed, “Your Majesty.”

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Arach said.

  “Arach, he was talking to Brevyn,” I chuckled.

  “Oh,” Arach scowled as Brevyn reached for Eamon.

  “Arach,” I looked pointedly at Brevyn's attempts to flop into Eamon's arms.

  “Oh, yes, of course,” Arach extended Brevyn. “Would you care to hold him?”

  “I'd be honored,” Eamon gushed as more of the light elves closed in around us. He took Brevyn and bounced him lightly. My son squealed in delight, grabbing one of the thin braids which hung at Eamon's temples. “Oh,” Eamon winced. “His Majesty has a strong grip.”

  “Brevyn,” I chided, and pried Eamon's hair free of my son's fist. “Everyone, this is Brevyn and Rian's father, my husband, King Arach of Fire,” I finally introduced Arach.

  “Your Majesty,” was murmured around us, as the light elves bowed again, this time to Arach.

  I didn't bother to correct them on the honorific thing, and neither did Arach. We were in Alfheim after all, if this was their way, we would go with it. Plus, Arach was too pleased with finally receiving a little adoration.

  “It's a pleasure to meet all of you,” Arach nodded regally.

  “This is Eamon, the steward I told you about,” I said to Arach.

  “Yes, I assumed,” Arach smirked at me, but it slid into a royal smile when he looked at Eamon. “You've done a wonderful job, from what I hear.”

  “Thank you, Your Majesty,” Eamon nodded.

  “Arach wanted to take a look around and meet everyone,” I explained. “Since Brevyn will rule here someday.”

  “Of course!” Eamon gently, and respectfully, handed Brevyn back to Arach. “We'd be happy to show you around Lysalfheim, and the forest, and the lake- whatever you wish to see. Then we can have a feast and perhaps some dancing,” Eamon headed off, “and mead, lots of mead. And singing and maybe even a play!”

  “Eamon, you don't have to do all that,” I called after him.

  “A Thaisce,” Arach frowned, “let him have his way.”

  “But everyone is waiting for us in Faerie,” I shook my head.

  “That is their job,” Arach chided me. “As it is Eamon's job to welcome his king when he comes to visit. Allow them all to have their job sanctity.”

  “Their what?” I scowled at him until I figured it out. “Oh, their job security.”

  “As I said,” Arach nodded.

  “Or a word that sounded similar,” I muttered.

  “And makes much more sense,” Arach smirked at me.

  “Fine,” I sighed, and waved the light elves on, “let's party it up elf style.”

  Chapter Twenty

  When we finally made it back to Faerie, we found Isleen and our guards sitting around a little campfire, having some dinner. Yeah, we'd taken that long. I knew my other husbands would be annoyed as well, but not as annoyed as Isleen was. She looked up at our arrival, and relief coursed over her face. No, she hadn't been annoyed with us. It was Lugh who was bothering her.

  Lugh must have been on his daily jaunt over to see Isleen, when he came across her conveniently camped out right at the end of his road. He'd made himself at home with his own company of guards, and proceeded to try to win Isleen back with all that Gaelic charm.

  Charm was losing.

  “Queen Vervain!” Lugh shouted when he saw me.

  Oh crap. Was I about to be drawn into this?

  “Hello, High Prince,” I rushed by with Arach, hoping to avoid a conversation.

  “Could I have a word with you?” Lugh asked.

  I froze, sighed, and turned around.

  “I'll take Prince Brevyn, My Q
ueen,” Isleen eagerly held her hands out to me.

  I smiled stiffly at her as she grabbed my baby, and escaped into the safety of the carriage. That traitor duchess.

  “Have fun with that,” Arach chuckled low, then nodded to Lugh, “High Prince.”

  “King Arach,” Lugh nodded.

  The red caps and phookas were rushing about, getting everything into place for our journey home. The phookas who'd been pulling our carriage had shifted into human forms to hang out with everyone else. Now they had to switch back and get hitched up, which took awhile. Lugh's entourage went to stand with their horses, unsure of what they should be doing. That left me and the High Prince with some relative privacy.

  “What's up?” I smiled brightly.

  “She hates me,” he whispered.

  “Yeah, that wasn't the best move,” I grimaced.

  “What wasn't?”

  Oh my gods, he was clueless.

  “The whole announcing her as your girl to the entire Faerie Realm,” I gaped at him. “Without talking to her first. After she just implied that she didn't want to make it public, when she spoke to you in that aloof tone of hers.”

  “Oh,” his face fell. “I guess when you put it like that.”

  “And then you just keep showing up,” I went on. “Just keep popping over, annoying her further. Have you even apologized to her yet?”

  “For...” his eyes widened, “right, for the whole thing you just said. No, I haven't. On account of not knowing that was bad.”

  “Lugh,” I sighed. “You manipulated her. How would you have felt if she had done that to you?”

  “I...” he scowled.

  “How did you get anywhere with women?”

  “I just kind of smiled and they...” he shrugged.

  “You're a damn idiot,” I shook my head. “Go watch some chick flicks. Try Jerry MacGuire. Or maybe read some poetry. I don't know. But don't come by the castle until you figure it out. Oh, I got it! Watch Say Anything, that'll do the trick. John Cusack,” I sighed, “holding a boom box in an eighties trench coat. Nothing more romantic than that.”