Pride Before A Fall (Book 21 in the Godhunter Series)

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Pride Before A Fall (Book 21 in the Godhunter Series) Page 25

by Amy Sumida


  “What the–” I stood up and got a better look. “Are those the cŵn annwn?”

  Dexter jumped up and started to growl, his sleek fur standing up. I stroked him absently.

  “It appears so,” Arach said as he strode forward. “Hold!”

  “Ease down, Dex,” I said and he settled.

  Our goblin guards pulled up short, but the dogs kept running. They went straight to Arach, then circled him, whining. Arach held his hands out to the dogs, and they went to his palms, licking and nuzzling them. Arach crouched into the pack, and the dogs seemed to sigh, settling around him in relief.

  “Jiminy Cricket,” I whispered. “I forgot about the hounds. They ran off after the battle with Arawn. How did they even get here?”

  “They are faerie dogs, A Thaisce.” Arach stood with a wide grin on his face. “And they're also dogs of the Wild Hunt. You said that Arawn and I had a connection, that he was even named after me. It seems that our connection has drawn his Hunt to me. Their master is dead, and they needed a new one.”

  “We already have Dexter.” I stroked the nurial by my side, and he looked up at me in agreement. “Where are we going to put more animals?”

  “These are hunting dogs, A Thaisce,” Arach said. “They'll have a kennel to sleep in, but they're also fey, so they should be fine roaming free.”

  “Should be?” I frowned at the hounds, and they stared back at me balefully. “Oh, all right. I hate to see animals homeless.”

  “Excellent!” Arach exclaimed. “Come along fire hounds, I shall find someone to feed you.”

  “They're not fire hounds,” I called after him. “They're coon dogs; Cŵn annwn.”

  “They will be fire hounds,” he called back.

  “Men,” I said to Neala, and she made a huffing sound of agreement.

  Next, a peek into the first installment of Amy's RH Fairy Tale Collection:

  Happily Harem After

  The first volume includes:

  Beauty and the Beasts

  Wild Wonderland

  The Four Clever Brothers

  Pan's Promise

  The Little Glass Slipper

  Beauty and the Beasts

  Chapter One

  “Once upon a time there were three spoiled princes,” I read. “They dined on the finest food and drank the best wine. Their clothing was made of silk from the East, fur from the North, velvet from the West, and linen from the South. They lived in the most magnificent castle made of stone and glass and were waited upon by an army of servants. They had everything their hearts could desire, and that was their downfall.”

  I frowned at the book, flipping back to the cover to read the title again. There was no author listed, and I was beginning to realize why. What had I been thinking when I borrowed this book from Theo? But I was nothing if not tenacious, so I returned to reading.

  “On a dark and stormy night,” I read and then rolled my eyes.

  “Ugh... really?” I huffed. “As if 'once upon a time' wasn't bad enough, you have to add 'dark and stormy'? Who wrote this crap?”

  “Sylvaine?” My father called.

  “Up here, Father,” I called back to him.

  “Come down and wish me farewell. I'm about to leave.”

  I clambered down from my spot in the barn's loft and found my father smiling up at me as he stood in the open space between horse stalls. He held his arms wide open, and I went into them, still holding my book. He hugged me tightly, and then took my hand by the wrist and lifted it so that he could see the book.

  “The Beastly Princes?” My father read the title aloud. “Is it a horror story?”

  “No, but it may end up horrifying me, nonetheless.” I grimaced.

  Father laughed. “You're too smart for your own good, Sylvie.” He kissed my forehead. “Now, your sisters have all made their requests. What shall I bring you?”

  I knew that Father was hiding the fact that his business had taken a bad hit. My sisters didn't know that our last two ships had been attacked by pirates, the goods stolen, but I did. Theo often received word from the larger towns, and he told me what had happened. But my father was a proud man, and I didn't want to embarrass him.

  “I would love a rose,” I said with a smile.

  “A rose?” Father lifted his brows. “Not a comb or a book?” He looked pointedly at my beastly novel.

  “No, just a rose,” I repeated.

  He stared at me a moment and then nodded sadly. “You're a good girl, Sylvaine. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Father.”

  I watched him walk out to his waiting cart and climb in. He rode out toward the seaport village of Rapace, our horse, Bayard, pulling the wagon. He turned back as he got to the gate and waved. I waved back and then returned to the loft and my story.

  “Let's see, where were we?” I scanned the page. “Ah, yes, we left our heroes... anti-heroes?” I frowned and then decided on, “Main characters, in a dark and stormy night.”

  I sighed and then began to read, “An old woman let herself into the palace in the midst of a party. She walked through the grand ballroom, right up to the eldest prince.

  'I beg of you to grant me shelter on this dismal night,' she said.

  The prince scowled at her and simply turned away as if speaking to her was beneath him.”

  My eyes went, and I growled. “Rude!”

  I went back to reading, “The old woman approached the second prince and asked him for shelter. The second prince waved his hand, and an attendant hustled the woman away. As she was led through the ballroom, the old woman called out to the final prince, the fairest and sweetest looking of the princes.

  'Your Highness, please have mercy on an old woman. Do not let them put me out into the storm!'

  The prince looked her over and said to the attendants, 'Give her a pallet in the stables, she can bed down with her own kind.'”

  I gaped at the page. “Oh, you bratty bastard!” I hissed.

  Then I read on, hoping that the prince would get his comeuppance. “The old woman broke free of the men who were restraining her and in a blinding flash of light, her figure transformed into that of a beautiful maiden. The entire court went silent, in awe of her beauty. The three princes came forward and stared at the woman in astonishment.

  'I gave each of you a chance to be kind, and instead, you treated me like an animal,' the fair maiden said.

  'We had no idea that you were a lovely lady,' the second prince said. 'If we had known, we would have offered you a room befitting your beauty.'

  'Beauty!' The young woman hissed. 'That is all you can see, isn't it? I will teach the three of you a lesson about beauty.'”

  I smirked. “Oh yeah, you let them have it, lady!”

  I settled back against the wooden wall and read more eagerly, “The maiden's hands began to glow with magic, and the court drew back in fear when she lifted them above her head. The princes, confident in their own worth, did not cower. They faced her with curiosity only.

  'Since you treated me like an animal, that is what you shall be. We shall see who stands by you when you are no longer beautiful. How many of your court will remain to fawn over you when your monstrosity is apparent on your very faces?'

  The magic shimmered over the princes, and they immediately transformed into hideous monsters; part man and part beast. The court ran away, screaming.”

  I chuckled, monsters indeed.

  “The eldest prince cried out to the maiden, now revealed to be a witch, 'Please, we can change our ways. Have mercy.'

  The witch lifted her chin and stared at the pathetic creatures.

  'You who gave no mercy, now beg for it,' she said. 'All right;. I will grant you one chance to regain your human forms.' She plucked a rose out of an overflowing vase and cast it at the feet of the eldest prince. 'You have till the last petal falls from this flower to prove that you are worthy are ruling this kingdom.'

  The princes looked at each other in horror. 'But a rose dies so quickl
y,' the second prince pointed out.

  'Not this one,' the witch smiled. 'It will fade slowly, and you will not fade at all, but only I shall know how much time you have to prove your worth.'

  The youngest prince crawled forward on his massive paws, 'But how do we prove ourselves?'

  The witch thought about it and finally said, 'With true beauty, of course. You must find a woman, a brave and beautiful woman, to love all of you. If you can win her love, and become humble enough to share that love, then I will return your kingdom and your pretty faces to you.'

  The princes vowed that they would win the love of a brave and beautiful woman... and they would share her humbly.”

  I grimaced and tossed the book down in the hay.

  “What rubbish.”

  Chapter Two

  “You didn't like The Beastly Princes?” Theo chuckled.

  “Have you read that garbage?” I asked him as I returned his book. “It's ridiculous.”

  “It's supposed to be a true story,” Theo said, “about our very own kingdom.”

  “We have a King and Queen,” I reminded him. “And they only have a daughter, no sons.”

  “We were not originally a part of the Kingdom of Hannaleigh,” Theo said. “In fact, we're not really a part of it now. Our monarchy disappeared long ago; the castle is said to be deep within the forest, hidden by magic and haunted.”

  “What happened to the rulers?”

  “No one knows.” Theo waved the book at me. “Or do they?”

  “You want me to believe that there are three beastly princes living in an abandoned castle in the woods, waiting for a beautiful woman to come and fall in love with them?” I scoffed.

  “Pure drivel,” Fabien said as he sauntered into Theo's shop.

  I rolled my eyes. “For the flour,” I said to Theo as I handed him a copper coin. “And thank you for the loan of the book.”

  “You're welcome Sylvaine,” Theo spoke to me, but eyed Fabien.

  Fabien. Ugh. Speaking of monsters, Fabien was a real one. He was also a braggart and a bully. In fact, Fabien would probably get along famously with those princes. When he wasn't pushing his weight around, Fabien could be found admiring himself in any reflective surface nearby. And when he wasn't doing either of those things, he was annoying me.

  “Where are you going, Sylvie?” Fabien followed me out of Theo's shop.

  “Home,” I said succinctly. “And don't call me 'Sylvie'.”

  “Aren't we close enough for me to call you 'Sylvie', Sylvie?” Fabien wedged his way in front of me, forcing me to slide between him and a wall.

  “No, we're not,” I growled.

  “Fabien!” Bianca, my older sister, shouted.

  Fabien sighed deeply and ignored her.

  “Fabien!” Bianca called again as she hastened after us.

  “I'm busy, Bianca!” Fabien turned to snap at her.

  I used his distraction to make my escape, ducking down a back alley and then racing out to another street. By the time I made it home, I was giggling like a girl. My giggling stopped when I saw Bayard, the horse who pulled my father's cart.

  “Bayard?” I went over to the horse, who was grazing peacefully in the patch of grass before our home.

  Bayard lifted his head, looking at me with somber, dark eyes.

  “Where's father, Bayard?”

  The horse looked guilty. And yes, I could communicate with our horse; with most animals, actually. It was a talent my entire family had. Our ancestors had been very in tune with nature. My name even meant “from the forest.” So, I knew immediately that Bayard had left my father somewhere that he shouldn't have.

  “You're taking me to him, Bayard,” I said as I climbed onto his back.

  The horse tensed and pranced anxiously.

  “You left him somewhere alone. Now, the least you can do is show me where,” I chided him.

  Bayard took off into the woods.

  Over an hour later, I realized that we were on a road that I had never traveled before. It was overgrown, but not to the point of being inaccessible, just enough to make it clear that this was not a path often chosen. Then Bayard stopped.

  There was a break in the trees, and through it, I could see a magnificent castle.

  “Oh dear god,” I whispered. “It's like Theo said; a hidden castle. Is that where father is, Bayard?”

  The horse whinnied.

  “Then let's go.”

  Bayard stamped and turned in a circle, refusing to go any further. Finally, I gave up, and left him there, making my way up a stone paved path toward the massive castle. As soon as I was out of the forest, the land opened up into manicured lawns and manicured gardens. A whole team of gardeners would be needed to maintain these grounds, but there wasn't a soul in sight. I looked down at my arms and saw the hair on them standing on end. Something wasn't natural here.

  Even though the sun shone down brightly, and the castle gleamed as if it were freshly polished, I felt a heavy pall in the air; a sadness hanging over it all. I shivered and rubbed my arms as I hurried up the stone steps to a curved set of wood doors. I knocked because that's the polite thing to do, but no one answered. Instead, the door swung open all on its own, and I stood within the arch of it, staring at a curving staircase. Doors to either side of the entry were open to reveal vast rooms, but there was no one in them.

  “Hello?” I called out. “I'm sorry to intrude, but I'm looking for my father, and I think he may be here. Hello? Is anyone there?”

  A clink sounded down a hallway to the right of the stairs. I followed the sound and came to a kitchen. No one was there. Another clatter led me to an open door near the pantry. I peered in and saw a set of stairs leading down into the dark.

  “Too dark for anyone to be down there,” I muttered to myself.

  Torches burst into flame, illuminating a stone stairwell which curved out of sight.

  “Like that wasn't at all creepy,” I huffed.

  I would have left at that point, but my father was in that castle somewhere, I could feel it in my bones, and I wasn't about to abandon him. I headed down the stairs.

  At the bottom of the stairs, I found a row of prison cells. Solid doors blocked my view of the cells, but they were each set with small windows near their tops, barred by iron.

  “Father?” I called out.

  “Sylvaine?” My father's shocked voice came from one of the cells. “Sylvaine is that you?”

  “Father!” I snatched a ring of keys off the wall and ran toward the sound of his voice. “I'm here! Bayard brought me.” I unlocked his door and rushed into my father's arms.

  “Oh, Sylvaine,” my father sobbed. “You shouldn't have come. In fact,” he pushed me away, “you need to leave immediately.”

  “The hell I will,” I growled.

  “Brave,” a deep voice noted from the doorway.

  “Or maybe just stupid,” another rumbly voice added.

  “Leave her be!” My father cried and pushed me behind him. “She has done nothing wrong. I am the one who took your damn rose.”

  “Rose?” I asked.

  “Your father is a thief,” a third voice, slightly softer than the other two, said. “We caught him stealing one of our prized roses. Thieves must be punished. At least, that's what Lancelot says–” His voice was cut off by a muffled thump.

  “Over a rose?” I huffed. “I'm the one who asked him for a rose; you should punish me.”

  “Sylvaine!” Father snapped. “I will handle this.”

  “Father, you need to get home,” I said sternly. “Bianca and Anne will not be able to survive without you.”

  “You can–”

  “What?” I asked. “What could I do to support us?”

  “More than I do,” he huffed. “We lost another cargo. I know you know about the ships, Sylvie. We are ruined.”

  “Our family does not give up,” I snapped. “You're going to go home and figure this out.” I shoved him toward the door.”

  “Li
sten to her,” one of the voices said, “she thinks she's in charge.”

  “He's a merchant,” I growled at the shadowy shapes in the doorway. “What do you want with him when you could have a young, able-bodied woman? I can cook or clean, things he can't do for you.”

  “Come into the light,” the first voice demanded.

  I eased forward and heard three sharp intakes of breath.

  “Brave and beautiful,” one of them whispered.

  “Fools,” another said, “she's not the one.”

  “What's the harm?” The third said. “Let her stay. Let him leave. It matters not.”

  “I am not leaving!” My father declared.

  “Yes, you are,” I pushed him out into the corridor.

  “You heard her,” one of the low voices said. “It's time to go.”

  I came out past the glare of the torches just as a clawed hand reached for my father. I launched myself at the thing before me, the one about to attack my father, but was grabbed from behind. As I flailed against my captor, my father was dragged away by something that looked ...

  “Half man and half beast,” I whispered.

  I swiveled my head around to peer at the person that held me and found something similar. Shaggy hair framed a fur-covered face. The fur was sleek and flowed over a muscular body. Large, liquid eyes stared at me, full of sorrow and pain. They were set above a wide, flat nose that would have looked right at home on a lion. This nose flowed down into an upper lip that was thick like an animal's muzzle, but then it transformed into human-shaped lips. The beast opened his odd mouth, showcasing sharp canines, and spoke.

  “Be at ease; we will not hurt you.”

  “I'm more concerned about my father,” I said calmly.

  His eyes widened, and he carefully put me down on my feet.

  “Your father will be escorted off the property,” he murmured. “My brother will not harm him either. We're not completely animals.”

 

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