by May Dawson
I reached out and twisted off a piece of the branch nearest me that had just grown so quickly.
“You must be hungry,” I told the creature as its maw shot toward me. “Grow!”
I threw the root into the monster, and the tree immediately began to grow sideways, shooting out roots that jutted into the earth around it, pinning the worm still in the dirt. It let out a roar, but it couldn’t escape. It tried to lash around in the earth, trying to shake the roots free, but they were the last tremors of the dying.
The boy climbed steadily up the root, but he looked back at me. Above him, the tree’s trunk suddenly broke the ground, and sunlight poured in on us both. The hint of blue sky so high above was the most beautiful color I’d ever seen in my life.
“Go!” I shouted. “I’ll be right back.”
The worm was dead and still now. I sent another root forward to form a tunnel for myself above its body, but this time, it was harder to summon that tingle of magic and the tree grew more slowly. I was exhausting my magic.
I made my way along the snaking trail that followed the worm’s path until it suddenly emptied into a big central chamber, far beneath the earth.
A half-dozen worm babies, each as long as my arm, writhed on the ground.
“I hate to tell you this,” I said, right before I kicked one over and stabbed it through its heart, “but you are the ugliest babies I’ve ever seen.”
They roared and hissed at me, trying to attack, but I made short work of them. My arms were exhausted by the time I climbed back into the passageway, and I faced that long ladder upward with a mix of joy at the chance to escape and trepidation. It had been a long day. I’d faced down a poisonous, hungry monster, and besides dealing with my brother, there had been the vile worm thing too.
“Any day, Princess,” Duncan called down.
I looked up to see three distant, handsome faces hanging over the hole, waiting for me.
It turned out I wasn’t too tired to raise one arm to offer him a one-fingered salute.
Then I began to climb.
Chapter Five
When I finally reached the top of the hole, the guys reached in and helped pull me out the rest of the way. I was exhausted and I collapsed with a groan in the dirt. What did it matter anymore?
Then as a cheer went up around us, I realized we had an audience.
The slope was full of Fae, high and low, who were standing in a ring around us.
“How’s the kid?” I managed.
“Looks like he’ll be fine, thanks to you,” Tiron said.
“Thanks for the tip,” I told him. My head ached fiercely, maybe from using all my magic, and my fingers were white and so tight around my sword’s hilt that I couldn’t release it.
“She needs rest,” Azrael said. He gathered me against his chest and lifted me easily. “Can we trouble you for some hospitality for a few hours?”
“Anything we have is yours.” A Fae with small knobs of horns protruding from his head stood beside Jori, his hand on her shoulder. “We have an inn where you’re welcome as long as you like. For as long as you live. We’ll never forget what you did for our kids.”
There was a murmur of agreement from the Fae villagers.
We joined them in trekking up the slope and through the forest to the village. I let my head fall on Azrael’s shoulder, savoring being close to him. I felt safe when he held me, when I could pretend that our past wasn’t thick and complicated between us.
“That was terrifying,” Azrael murmured into my ear. “I’d prefer we never did that again, for the record.”
“Agreed.”
I felt better by the time we emerged into the sunshine, and I struggled against being carried—more out of a sense of pride than because I really wanted to be put down. I enjoyed how easily Azrael carried me, the feeling of his strong arms around me, holding me against his broad chest.
“I’d prefer to keep you close,” he said, “where I know you won’t suddenly plunge yourself into danger.”
But he came to a stop, despite his protests. When my feet touched the ground, he steadied me with his hands on my shoulders until he was sure I had my footing.
Together, the four of us walked—or staggered—through neatly laid out rows of farmland and past the stone walls surrounding the village. The gates stood wide open for now, and we entered a broad, central cobblestone street with houses and shops laid out to either side.
“I’m Irik, and this is our pub and inn,” the horned man told us, gesturing us ahead. Jori beamed with pride as I followed her inside.
We stepped into a long room, warm and cozy with raw beams running the length of the ceiling, a stage at one end and a long bar running the length of the pub. Tables were crowded by the crackling fireplace.
“We’d prefer to stay together,” Azrael told him. “We don’t mind close quarters.”
Duncan snorted. “Well, don’t mind is a bit of a strong statement.”
Irik and Jori escorted us to their finest room, which was small for four of us but cozy. One end of the room was taken up by an enormous tub, big enough for two, and the rush of water filling the tub was loud in the air. The Fae certainly loved their baths, and that was one part of this world that I appreciated, even though I was tired of things trying to murder me.
“We’ll prepare food and wine,” Irik said.
I could tell Azrael was about to say we didn’t need any wine—we needed to keep our wits sharp in case Faer found us sooner than we expected—but Tiron interrupted, “We wouldn’t want to be rude.”
Azrael gave in and smiled a little as Irik swung the door shut. “No, I suppose we wouldn’t.”
“You need that bath,” I told Azrael, looking into his dirt-streaked face.
“As do you.” He grinned as he picked a bit of root out of my hair. That genuine, unreserved smile of his was such a rare sight—and it made him so beautiful to me—that I stared at him for a second, almost lost to words, before suddenly turning away. The impact he had on me was unnerving.
I stripped off my dirt-crusted clothes, eager to get into the tub. I caught the guys trying valiantly not to look, and it made me smile; it was just as hard for me to keep my eyes from roaming their bodies.
I relaxed into a long, warm bath, floating there while each of the guys came and went. The water bubbled around me as if I were in a hot tub, but Tiron assured me that it was actually a water filtration system that whisked away the dirt. I didn’t see any more twigs from my hair bobbing in the water, so that must be true.
“I’m going to see about supplies,” Azrael said, just as Duncan settled into the water across from me. “Since we’re here anyway.”
“You know, I’ll go with you,” Tiron said suddenly, rising from the couch in the corner. “We should use the buddy system, after all. For safety.”
He winked at the two of us right before he closed the door behind him.
Duncan growled at him but said nothing, sinking further beneath the warm water, his tattooed pecs disappearing until all I could see were the tops of his broad shoulders.
“What?” He growled. “You’re looking at me.”
“We’re sharing a tub. Of course I’m looking at you.”
“It’s the only tub,” he said.
I sighed. “You are genuinely impossible, you know that? You really are going to pretend you didn’t kiss me earlier.”
“You kissed me,” he corrected. “I…endured it.”
As I sat up, brows rising, he added quickly, “To be polite.”
“You have never been any such thing in your life.” I scooped water in my hand and splashed him.
He frowned at me, refusing to splash back, trying to be more mature than I was. The struggle was written plainly across his face.
I knew him well enough by now to know he’d threaten to push me under the water, but he never would hurt me.
“Tiron desperately wants to talk about what happened,” I said conversationally, and he groaned. “Do yo
u think he saw? Or just guessed? I know Azrael is just guessing, from the way he reacted.”
He spread his arms on the side of the tub. His powerful biceps looped over the edges of the tub, his muscles rippling with the movement. “Tiron might be enthused to discuss this. I am not.”
“Okay,” I agreed amicably. “You’re right. Know your audience.”
He nodded, sinking lower in the water.
“I’ll discuss it with him instead,” I added.
He sighed and sank all the way into the tub, letting the water swallow him up. At first I found it amusing he was that eager to escape me, and then as air bubbles slowly leaked up and he never emerged, I grew nervous. When no water bubble had surfaced for a long time, he started to freak me out. He wouldn’t really drown himself just to be a jerk, would he? Was he that stubborn?
I could believe Duncan was that stubborn, actually, and it gave me a sudden jolt of anxiety.
I reached through the water and grabbed his shoulders. He surfaced suddenly, shooting back up, and I felt his legs hit mine. As he bobbed on the surface, I was straddling his lap, my hands still on his shoulders.
He pushed his wet hair back with one hand, revealing his impatient face. “What now?”
“I thought you were…” I trailed off, because it sounded ridiculous.
He smirked. “Always heroic. Now you’re rescuing me from the bathtub.”
“You were under the water for a long time.”
“My mother’s actually from the sea court,” he said. He raked his hand through his hair again. “That’s where the dark hair comes from. Mostly browns and reds in the autumn court.”
It was more than he’d ever told me about his family. I said, “Can you breathe underwater? Like Raile and his Fae?”
“No, I wish. I can hold my breath for a long time though. Probably what helped Azrael come through that trip with the worm.” He shook his head. “What a show-off.”
“He’s really insufferable,” I agreed.
Duncan’s lips turned up at one corner. “Right. So you say. But you’re the worst of us: all brave and self-sacrificing and sweet too. It’s embarrassing.”
“Are you saying nice things to me, Duncan? I thought we had a thing going on.” I pointed back and forth between the two of us. “Mean banter. Isn’t that how we flirt?”
He snorted. “No. We are not flirting.”
“But we used to.”
He gave me a long look and rose suddenly from the tub. We were so close together that his long, broad cock was suddenly bobbing in front of my face. I had the brief maniacal temptation to reach out and swat it and see just how much it could bob. But before I could, he turned. His tight, nicely-shaped ass was in my face instead, right before he stepped out of the tub, streaming water across the floor.
“I’m starving,” he said. “Let’s go eat.”
He began to towel himself off, and I watched his muscles ripple with the movement as he leaned over, rubbing the towel across those defined calves. When he straightened, the powerful muscles in his shoulders and back and the narrow definition of his waist were on full display as he twisted and turned.
“Sure. Me too,” I said.
But maybe I was more thirsty than anything else.
Chapter Six
Duncan
Seven years earlier
During the break between classes, I leaned against the wall in the hallway. The droning chatter of my fellow students faded as I read the letter from my little sister Zora for the sixth time.
Dear Duncan—it always seems hilarious to call you dear, because I never would in real life. Not that you aren’t dear to me.
Azrael is too of course. Are you looking after him? You know he needs someone to look after him, even though he would never admit it, even to himself. He’s always tortured himself to look after us both. I wonder if the academy is a break for him—one time he only has to worry about little things like slaying monsters and winning wars, and not keeping the two of us out of trouble.
I would never understand why my sister wrote in stream-of-consciousness and didn’t edit her letters. But today, I was thankful for a glimpse into that strange child’s brain. Azrael had looked after her since our mother grew sick, and the two of them had always been close—close in a way I wasn’t with either of them. It was lonely to be the middle child, neither the eldest son and heir, nor the sunshine baby of the family.
Do you think they’ll ever let girls into that academy of yours, speaking of? Da has me training now, just the same way he did with you two.
Those were the words that haunted me. Azrael had helped prepare me for the academy, and he hadn’t gone easily on me—but I knew he’d been merciful compared to what our father had put him through. What he’d done to us when we were just boys.
I’d always taken it in stride—Az and I were proud of how tough we were—but I couldn’t stand the thought for Zora. Sweet-faced Zora looked so much like the pictures of our mother as a girl, with Sea Fae dark hair and eyes the shifting colors of the ocean. She didn’t deserve that. When I looked at her, and I could see what a child she still was, my father seemed like a cruel man. I’d never felt that strongly about what he did to us.
During training yesterday I kept missing my parry. I had to practice a hundred times for every miss after dinner—Da exhausted three of his knights making sure I had it perfect. Today I couldn’t grip my sword—Salea is actually writing this for me, in case you noticed it’s not written in my hand. I doubt you did, though. Az would, which is part of why I didn’t write to him.
I don’t know why I told you all that. I know you’ll understand. Please understand why I want this to be just between us—my silent grouchy brother, would you be silent and grouchy on my behalf? It would just make me feel better to know someone understood.
I miss you both so very much, enough that it would embarrass all three of us if you knew.
Looking forward to seeing you at Winter Solstice.
Love always, Zora
God, she was such a child still, writing such rambling letters. Her need for someone to rescue her bled across the page, and my stomach was tight. What was our father thinking? She wasn’t even ten; she was far too young for the kind of exacting practice he’d put us through, the punishments that waited when our bodies or minds failed. To make a prince, he’d always said.
With Azrael and me gone, with our mother finally at rest, he and Zora were alone. All his relentless energy must have turned on Zora.
“Duncan.” A harsh voice cut into my thoughts. I looked up to realize the hall was empty; I was alone, except for another first year, Keral, who stared at me in exasperation from the end of the hall.
Which meant I was late for Eddlewick’s class, and he had sent someone to find me.
I sprinted toward class, my heart hammering in my chest. Fuck. Instructor Eddlewick was the worst.
Keral headed into class ahead of me and as soon as he was through the doors, he dropped onto the ground. All of my fellow students were already on the ground, holding themselves in the push-up position, their arms trembling.
I started to drop into place beside them, but the instructor’s icy voice stopped me. “Oh, no, Duncan. Don’t bother. You didn’t bother to arrive on time, why join your classmates now?”
For the next ten minutes, I had to stand by while Eddlewick continued his lecture—as he hazed my fellow students.
My face stayed stony, but I hated watching them collapse one after another, only to be kicked back into position. Alisa’s speed and grace didn’t help her here. When the instructor’s boot slammed into her stomach and she left out a faint huff before she straightened out, only to collapse again. The thud of the instructor kicking her until she was back up in position echoed through my body.
The respect that I’d won from my fellow students in the ring was gone now. I’d made a stupid, thoughtless mistake, and they’d all been punished for it. Now they’d despise me, and that was far worse than taking the be
ating myself ever would have been.
The instructor glowered down at Alisa for a moment. Her whole body was trembling uncontrollably, a muscle ticking in her cheek. She bit her lower lip so hard I was sure she would draw blood.
Rage tightened my chest, and if Eddlewick had kicked her one more time, I knew I’d go over the desks and slam into him.
But she stayed in position, and he took a step back, then turned and walked to his desk. “Take your seats. I assume we’re all ready to learn now—maybe we can even make up for the time lost to this foolishness.”
Everyone moved to their seats silently, suppressing their groans. Alisa’s magic sparked against her fingers as she pressed one hand into her side, wincing as she healed whatever injuries the instructor had caused. As high royalty, she could do that easily.
When the bell rang for lunch, the instructor held us back for the same amount of time we’d wasted at the beginning of class. Tension rippled in the air—we only had so long for lunch before we had to report to our afternoon combat skills training.
Finally, Eddlewick told us we could go, and everyone rushed for the door. I followed them more slowly, feeling like an outcast.
“Anyone need more healing?” Alisa asked from the front of the crowd.
“Yeah, I wouldn’t turn it down.” A few people grumbled their assent.
“I can help,” I said, the words coming out in a growl. I didn’t expect anyone to want my help now.
The Fae nearest me cut his eyes toward me, but before he could speak, Alisa said, “Perfect! You know we’re all going to fuck up sometime. But at least we can fix it together.”
One of the guys shook his head. “You’re like a walking academy manual, Faer.”
She laughed at that, before pressing her hands to his side to heal him. He might tease her, but he didn’t seem to mind that she was an academy manual.
Another Fae let me heal him, and there was room for me at the table as we all sat down late and began to gobble down our meals. I caught Azrael, staring from the other side of the hall as he finished his leisurely meal, but I didn’t want to deal with his disapproval now.