The Autumn Fairy of Ages (The Autumn Fairy Trilogy Book 2)

by Brittany Fichter

  For the first time in a long time, since they were children, perhaps, there was not a trace of fear on Peter’s face or in his eyes. Instead, confidence seemed to ebb from his very being, and though their witnesses might not have seen it, joy radiated from him. The sorrow and indecisiveness from the day before were gone.

  This was the Peter Katy had always known existed. Inside the scrawny boy she knew and loved had always been a warrior.

  A king.

  Not a trace of stubble remained on his clean-shaven face. His mark was there for everyone to see, and for once, Peter didn’t seem ashamed. Katy felt herself break into a smile.

  The intensity of his gaze drew her forward as someone began to sing, and she was hardly aware of Tomas beside her or the hundreds of eyes that should have filled her with angst. All she knew was that life was as it should be. The burning passion in his eyes drew her forth like a ship to a beacon in the midst of a storm. And like that ship, their love had been battered and bruised. And yet, despite the heartbreak, betrayal, hatred, and manipulation of the world around them, their love still lived. Two peoples separated by competition and prejudice were being united under an ancient sentinel in the same place they had been united a thousand years before.

  All because a boy and girl fell in love.

  Thank you, Atharo. The prayer was out before Katy had even realized she was praying. I know I don’t deserve it. I don’t deserve any of this. I’ve doubted and wept and shook my fist at you, and yet you continue to give. I have nothing of my own to offer but disbelief and heartbreak. Still, you give. And all I can say now is thank you.

  Somehow, Katy and Tomas reached the innermost part of the hill. After handing Katy to Peter, Tomas bowed to Katy first, then Peter, and took his place behind him.

  “In such days as these,” Firin Reaghan began, his warm voice clear, “I’m afraid that fear is too often the guiding factor in our lives. We allow it to become louder than the voice of Atharo in our heads. We use fear to push away those who love us deeply, or at least, have the potential to. For love means vulnerability, and vulnerability means risking pain. So we trade love for that which is convenient and safe, for agreements in which both parties benefit and from which either can break away.”

  Katy dared a glance out at the crowd. Squeezed around the dais on all sides but Autumn were hundreds of spectators, most sitting cross-legged on the ground. Shauna stood toward the back, looking proud. King William and King Sebastian were near the front, as were a number of servants, human and fae, that Katy had glimpsed at the castle. And their numbers looked even significantly higher than the day before.

  “Our greatest purpose in this world,” Firin Reaghan continued, “is to serve. Whether we serve as farmers do, providing food for all, or a shopkeeper, bringing goods to those who cannot find them, or whether we answer the call to serve as crown prince.” The firin’s lips twitched. “Our abilities are doled out to us so that we might give them to others in turn. And now, as you each bind yourself to your beloved, your next and greatest challenge will be to search for every way you can serve one another as long as you both shall live.” The firin’s expression was serious, but the way he kept rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet told Katy just how happy he was.

  “Now, Prince Peter Kyran Readagh of the Third Isle.” His eyes crinkled kindly as he turned to Peter. “Take the hands of your beloved and kneel.”

  Peter got down on his knees and gripped Katy’s hands. His fingers were calloused and rough, and their warmth made Katy shiver.

  “Peter, as all men are, you are a servant of Atharo,” Firin Reaghan continued. “And now, your service to Atharo will most greatly be carried out on the service of your wife. Now repeat after me.”

  Peter locked eyes with Katy, his gaze smoldering.

  “I, Peter Kyran Readagh, covenant before God and man…”

  Firin Reaghan glanced up at their crowd. “…and fae.”

  “And fae,” Peter smiled as he echoed the firin’s words, “to serve you, my love, until my dying breath. To be patient and kind. To be humble and to forsake jealousy. To listen and truly hear, to be speak with grace, and remain faithful to you until my dying breath.”

  Katy’s breathing sped and deepened as the sound of his deep voice rumbled through her bones. How had she ever doubted him? Never, she was sure, had there ever lived a man so loyal as Peter. And by some miracle, he was choosing her to be the one he was loyal to. Or rather, by some miracle, he had chosen her many years before.

  “Peter, please stand. Katy, now it is your turn to kneel.” He cleared his throat several times and rubbed the corners of his eyes on his robe. “Please repeat after me.”

  Since the moment Katy had agreed to marry Peter, she had secretly dreaded reciting her wedding vows. Not the vows themselves. Katy could have sung her promises to Peter from the mountaintops…as long as no one else was listening. But laying bare her deepest emotions in front of so many people had stirred a surprising amount of angst inside of her. At this moment, however, she could only see Peter. The hundreds of people watching were inconsequential. Peter mattered. And now she was kneeling before him, holding his hands, promising to give him the rest of her life.

  As if it had ever truly belonged to anyone else.

  “I, Katrin McKine, covenant before Atharo and all others, to serve you, my love, until my dying breath. To rejoice with you in seeking the truth. To bear all things with and for you. To never forsake hope, and in faithfulness, to always endure.”

  As she spoke, Peter looked as though he might burst. His strong hands gripped hers tightly.

  “Katrin, you may now stand,” the firin said.

  Peter helped her up, and Katy suddenly wished the ceremony were just a little shorter. For she wanted nothing more than to have Peter all to herself. But she didn’t have long to wish, for Firin Reaghan reached into his pocket and pulled out two gold bangles. Each had a jeweled ring of ruby dangling from it. The bands themselves each had a gap in their gold, about half an inch wide.

  “With this symbol—” Firin Reaghan held the bangles up, “—this couple shall carry their love until their dying breath. They have been forged in a fire, so that no other force can sever them. And with every step they take, husband and wife will be reminded of these vows. Just as these bands, once closed, will never break, by the strength of Atharo and his good grace, this love will never end.”

  Katy stared when a box of glowing coals was brought to them. She knew it was coming, of course, but she had never expected the coals to look so…well…hot. Firin Reaghan knelt beside the box and bent the bangles back until the gap in each was several inches wide. He motioned for Katy to step forward.

  She and Peter had discussed the ceremony several times with the castle’s firin back at home. But even when the firin had brought a box and demonstrated, Katy had gotten the sinking sensation that it was all just a dream. Such a beautiful gift would never be hers. And they had come dangerously close to such a reality. Between Tearlach, Donella, and Ethemu, she and Peter had nearly lost their lives and their will to go on.

  But the firin was right. Atharo was right. True love was strong. And it would never end. She and Peter would make sure of that.

  Upon his direction, Katy lifted her skirt just to the bottom of her calf, and Firin Reaghan placed the first bangle around her right ankle. Once it was wrapped around her ankle comfortably, he took a pair of tongs from the box of coals and touched it to each side of the bangle’s gap. Then he closed the gap until the piece was one continuous ring. Never to be removed again.

  He repeated the same with Peter, uttering a prayer as he worked. Once they were both wearing the ankle bracelets, he motioned for the box to be taken and raised his hands and his voice toward the crowd.

  “None of you have known Peter and Katy as long as I have. Their union is unorthodox, to say the least, but if I’m honest, I can admit to you all now that I have been waiting to say this since they were old enough to talk.” A smile like
sunshine spread across his face as he looked back and forth between them. “You are wed before Atharo. You are wed before the rest of creation. And where Atharo has given his blessing, there is no room for fear.” He brought his hands down. “You, my prince, may kiss your bride.”

  Peter wrapped his hands around Katy’s waist, but it wasn’t until he pulled her into his chest that she realized he was trembling. With one hand, he reached up and cupped her jaw, and she realized that she, too, was shaking as he drew her near. His lips touched hers, but for a moment, he let them linger, tracing her mouth with his.

  Then he kissed her.

  The crowd roared its approval.

  This kiss was different than any he had ever given her before. His lips were desperate, as though he was starving and she held the promise of a feast. His left hand tightened on her waist, and his right hand pulled her even closer. Even through his chainmail, she could feel the warmth of his chest and, with her eyes closed, she basked in the knowledge that he was hers. The familiar heat moved from her heart to radiate throughout her body, and Katy smiled into her kiss as the crowd gasped. She could feel the roses on her gown reach full bloom, but she didn’t stop to look until Peter finally pulled away and placed his forehead against hers, breathing deeply as he stared into her eyes, tracing her face with his fingers.

  “I told you I would follow you anywhere,” he said breathlessly.

  “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” Katy laughed, feeling as short of breath as he sounded.

  “Like it or not, you’re stuck with me now.” He placed a soft kiss against her temple.

  Katy gasped and then laughed. A murmur rippled through the crowd as well. Peter looked up at see what she was pointing at. Above them, from a low branch, hung a single bud from the tree.

  “No!”

  Everyone turned to see Donella standing at the top of the hill. She gaped down at them, shaking her head slowly.

  “I come to offer a compromise, and I find this?”

  41

  Tandem

  Peter’s arms tightened around Katy. “What did you expect?” he asked Donella, each word crisp and clear. “We told you we were getting married when we arrived.” Then he shrugged. “Whether or not you chose to believe us was your decision.” He prayed she couldn’t see just how close she had come to success.

  “But your bloodlines!” Donella started to fly toward them, her eyes riveted. “You’ve just doomed both your lines to end!” She looked at Katy. “The one fairy in a thousand years that we needed. And you chose to abandon your people?” Before she reached them, however, Shauna met her in the air. Donella came to a halt, but she peeked around Shauna. “Katy, whatever he said—”

  “This wasn’t Peter’s idea,” Katy cleared her throat. “It was mine.”

  Donella’s eyes looked as though they might fall out of her head.

  “Katy—” Peter tried.

  “I decided that Peter was right the first time.” Katy gently pushed herself free from Peter’s arms. He let her go, but stayed no more than an arm’s length behind. “There’s nothing in the Chronicles that forbid our marriage.” She shrugged. “If it’s not there—”

  But Donella was already shaking her head. “I’m sorry, but this is not acceptable.” She glared at William and Sebastian. “And you have betrayed us all as well,” she hissed.

  “Our intentions were good when we began,” William said, extending a hand as though he were calming a nervous horse. “We’ve been taking too much liberty, though. And I’m done playing God. I can barely bring peace to my own kingdom, let alone the others.”

  Sebastian nodded. “What’s done is done. And she’s right. They broke no laws.”

  For a long moment, no one spoke. Donella’s eyes roved the dais, seeming to touch everyone on it or standing around it. And as much as Peter wanted to punish the woman for attempting to kill him, the hundreds of facing surrounding them, many belonging to children, kept his hands at her sides. Making a move toward Donella would ignite a bloodbath. He was sure of it. So he tried diplomacy once again instead.

  “Perhaps if we go back to the Chronicles—”

  “Captain Emory.” Donella gestured, and the imposing guard emerged from behind the veil. Katy’s blood ran cold as she realized that the shadows on the veil weren’t from the early rays of morning.

  They were surrounded.

  “In the chancel bylaws,” Donella said as the captain came to stand behind her, “the orators are given the allowance of convening a meeting if a tie is reached on a chancel decision—”

  “You’re already outnumbered,” Peter said, waving at the countless individuals surrounding them. “Over half the chancel members are here already.”

  “…so I accept such responsibility and now convene a meeting.” Donella smiled. “But if I remember correctly, you’re not yet a king. So your vote doesn’t count.” She turned back to Emory. “I need you to bring the rhins and autumn fairy to me.”

  Captain Emory glanced down. “And if they won’t come?”

  “They must.” Donella pursed her lips. “I’ve required it of them.”

  “We know what you tried to do to Peter,” William said, hand going to the hilt of his sword. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  Peter opened his mouth to speak to speak. But a loud clank echoed across the clearing. He looked up just in time to see a boulder flying straight toward them. Peter grabbed Katy with both arms and tucked her into his chest, and in one swift motion had pulled her to the ground. He rolled to the side. Chunks of rock sprayed them both as the boulder hit the dais with a sickening crack. When they sat up, palace guards surrounded them on every side but Autumn. Peter muttered a curse. If the palace guards were here, that meant the rebellion’s lookout forces were dead or incapacitated. All one hundred and ten.

  “You said you came to negotiate!” Katy yelled. “Who brings an army to a peace treaty?”

  “Someone who doesn’t want to negotiate,” Peter said, drawing his sword. Sebastian and William did the same, as did the few fighting men they had with them. Even Firin Reaghan made a subtle move for something in his boot.

  Don’t let this turn into a battle, Peter prayed as he looked around at the panic on the faces of the families surrounding them.

  Ethemu appeared behind Donella. He looked blankly from one face to another until his gaze rested upon his son.

  “Father,” Karel called up, “you don’t have to fight with her.”

  Donella ignored him. “I want you to know,” she addressed the people, her voice strangely benevolent, “that I’m aware this is confusing. Half of your chancels have betrayed you. If you come quietly, however, there will be no repercussions. We’ll return to the way it’s always been.”

  “Don’t listen to her,” Karel called, drawing his sword as well, his eyes still fixed on his father. “There’s always been repercussions. She just never lets them see the light of day.”

  At this, the crowd began to murmur, and a few within it cried out. Children whimpered, and Peter could hear mothers tearfully trying to calm their babies. Not here, he begged Atharo. Not like this.

  “You lie!” Donella glared at him.

  Karel sent her a savage smile. “I know because I’ve been a part of them.”

  Someone screamed. And as if the scream had broken some invisible barrier, chaos ensued. Children cried while their parents tried to shield them or pull them away from the clearing into the safety of the trees. Some even dared to flee toward Autumn. Fairies darted into the sky. But no matter where they ran, they were surrounded. Peter looked around with growing panic. He and the others had been foolish to think they could defend themselves inside the hill.

  Palace guards in their gleaming white armor with colorful symbols on their chests marched from the trees, pressing the families back in. Fairy guards hovered over them, snatching up those who tried to flee.

  Peter tensed when he realized one had set his sights on Katy. The guard began to run toward them. Peter
nearly smiled as he felt the monster writhe within. He closed his eyes and welcomed it. When he opened them again, the world around him flowed crimson.

  With one blow, the guard was disarmed. With another, he was on the ground. A second tried. Then a third. Behind him, Peter could feel Katy sending out bursts of power. The hilts of swords clanked to the ground, and guard after guard let out a cry of surprise. But it wasn’t enough. Donella’s forces continued to spill forth.

  They weren’t killing the civilians at least. Even Peter in his beastly form was grateful for that. Rather, they were herding the villagers together. Human guards poured over the sides of the hill, taking direction from Donella, who called out names and pointed as she watched from the sky. Her fairies more than quadrupled those with the rebels. Fire, ice, and wind whipped through the clearing, and screams could be heard as the people were pushed back toward the dais. The catapults were being loaded again.

  William and Captain Markus had their soldiers huddled together with shields interlocked to create moving shelter. They probably had three or four dozen men in the moving shield alone. They crawled slowly up the hill, fighting as they went. Sebastian had at least ten of his own men, and around the same number of civilians had taken up arms as the others fled. And maybe fifteen of their fairies filled the air? But that was still less than half of what they had numbered the day before.

  The combat itself was much more difficult than he would have expected. These guards were more thoroughly trained than any at home. But to the monster’s relief and Peter’s regret, he was better. Forgive me, he prayed from somewhere inside the beast. The first man fell from his sword. Then another. And another. Peter hardened his heart as he brought down guard after guard. Because if not them, he chanted to himself, it would be someone else. And so he continued to kill with a vengeance, the monster slashing with glee.

  “They’re coming too fast!” Katy cried. “They’re not trying to kill me, but I can’t focus when they attack! If I make a mistake, everyone could die!” Her hands trembled as she held them up. Exhaustion was written on her face, and the marks on her arms changed faster than Peter could make out. Her eyes smoldered a metallic blue. Even as she spoke, a fairy descended from the branches above. Peter jumped in front of her to strike down the guard that was rushing down the hill at the same time, but the one above was out of his reach. Katy threw her hands up in time to knock the fairy off balance, but he could see the indecision on her face even as she turned to their next attacker.