Brutal Curse

by Casey Bond

  Weaving my way through the kingdom, bleeding coin with each stop along the road, I finally offered an old man enough to give me a ride in his wagon. Harper was heading to Brookhaven, a small, backward village, as he described it.

  He wasn’t sure I’d have any better luck there than I had here, but was willing to take me with him since I wasn’t looking for a hand-out. I’d planned to make my way to Ringsted, but in the end, it seemed fate wanted me to go someplace smaller. Besides, I was in a land I didn’t know. Best to pay for a ride from someone than go it alone in the woods. And having company wasn’t so bad.

  The old man liked to talk, and as we bumped along the rutted road, he told stories. He made his living hauling goods to and from Grithim and Brookhaven, pointing out homes along the way and telling me who the folks were and what scandals befell their families. But as we left the homes peppered through the countryside and entered the forest, he made the sign of the cross on his chest and muttered a quick prayer of protection against the dark queen of the forest.

  “Queen?” I asked when he explained the reason behind his trepidation.

  He looked all around the wood. “I always take the safe path, skirting around Virosa before the trail bends southwest, but it doesn’t matter much what path you take. She can hear you even now. She’s watching. I feel her cold eyes upon us.”

  “The Queen of Virosa?”

  “Nah, that one isn’t bad through and through. I mean, she’d gut ya if you messed with her people, but not for just breathing. The queen I worry about is…”

  A crow began to caw from a branch overhead and Harper, who’d barely taken a breath between words, didn’t say another word for hours.

  I couldn’t explain it, but a cold chill ran up my spine at the thought of someone watching us. He refused to speak again until sundown, when we had to stop, see to the horses, and set up for the night.

  In silence, I helped him arrange a makeshift camp, plucking stones from the land and making a small circle to contain our fire, then filling it with dead branches.

  He tied his horses to a tree located near a small stream. They drank their fill and ate the oats and apples he’d brought for them before laying down to rest.

  That night, we chewed on dried meat. He was stingy about sharing his ale until he’d had a couple of pints and loosened his muscles and lips. That night he told me all sorts of stories, the alcohol making the gruff old coot’s eyes widen and his hands gesture wildly as he told me all about the fae.

  How some were wee men who stole from any human they came across. If they didn’t take your wares, they’d take your pants and shoes, he claimed. He’d seen more than one trader emerge from the woods wearing nothing but his undergarments.

  He said that some looked like and were no bigger than flowers. Those kept to themselves, but they had ears. “Ya have to watch yer mouth around ‘em, lest they tell the Queen what you say.” Harper glanced around, looking across the forest floor. “We’re safe. No flowers ‘round here.”

  “You keep mentioning this queen. How do you know about her?” I asked curiously.

  “A friend of mine, another trader… he left Grithim for Ringsted. His body parts were found strung up along the branches of an Elder tree, and everyone knows it’s the fae who keep the Elders. And it was in her forest.”

  “How do you know it’s hers?”

  “She lets us know, boy,” Harper answered with a glinty stare. “She’s gutted men, left them pinned to a tree without a nail or rope holdin’ ‘em there; their bowels spilling to the ground and animals tearing into their innards. She’s cut their heads clean off and took ‘em as trophies. They say she hangs them all in her castle. And just last month, she tore the heart out of some poor sap. They say the buzzards wouldn’t even land to eat him up. Even they’re afraid of her. And you should be, too.”

  He crossed his chest, yawned, and stretched out by the fire. “That’s enough talk about her tonight. I need to get a good night’s rest.”

  Harper fell fast asleep and was snoring faster than should have been humanly possible, while I was left sitting by the fire, staring into the darkness. He wasn’t trying to scare me with his warnings. He really believed the stories and felt he was helping me by sharing them. I didn’t know what to think of them, though. I’d never seen a faery and didn’t really believe in them. But Harper did.

  The horses were uneasy. They would lay down only to jump up a few minutes later, ears flicking back and forth, their eyes searching all around for predators. I knew better than to get too close. They might kick out in fear, and an injury was more than I could afford. So, I sat in the back of the wagon and watched Harper’s chest rise and fall, keeping his bow and full quiver close just in case.

  The next morning, Harper was slow to stand. With his hand on his lower back, he stiffly walked to the wagon. “Stamp out that fire and let’s get going.”

  I’d stayed up until almost dawn and finally fell asleep sitting up. Harper wasn’t happy. He’d wanted to be moving by dawn, yet I’d slept through it and so had he. “This’ll put us behind,” he grumped. “I thought young fellows got up with the roosters.”

  Still struggling to stay awake, I mumbled, “I stayed up last night. The horses were restless.”

  His mouth gaped open. “Ah, so she was about the woods.”

  “The Queen?” I scoffed.

  “The very one.”

  “Why would a queen walk the forest at night?” I asked skeptically.

  “Because she’s fae and nature’s what feeds them.”

  He rambled on and on about the faeries. How he lost his wife to one who landed on her chest and caused her lungs to stop working. How his brother’s child was stolen by them when the river swelled.

  I didn’t have the heart to tell him that those things were natural. They just happened. People got sick. Children wandered too close to water sometimes, and while they were tragic, the fae had nothing to do with it. But maybe it was easier to blame something you couldn’t see rather than admit that life was that unpredictable and heartbreaking sometimes.

  “You don’t believe me,” he accused, flicking the reins. The wagon rumbled over the land as we went along.

  I had to think hard about what to say. “It’s not that I don’t believe you, Harper, but you’ve told me story after story about the fae since we left Grithim. How do you know they’re real? Have you ever seen one?” I asked.

  The network of wrinkles across his forehead and beneath his eyes deepened. “I have.”

  Surprised by his admission, I pressed, “Have you seen the Queen?”

  He shook his head. “No, if I’d seen her, I wouldn’t be sitting here. What I saw was more of a creature—had legs that bent like a spider, but its body looked like a man’s from the waist up. He had six eyes, and every one of them was black as night.” Harper took a long draw from his water skin. “Scariest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.”

  “Are you sure you weren’t drunk?” I teased, raising my brows.

  “I’m damn sure!” he answered curtly. “Just like I know not to say the Queen’s true name. It calls her to ya, ya know. Just like that,” he added, snapping his finger. “Doesn’t matter if we were in her forest or not; if I were to say her name and she’d appear, that’d be the end of us.”

  “Nah,” I responded lazily, relaxing my back against the wagon’s side. “I’m a fast runner. I’ll trip you and let her eat you while I make my getaway.”

  He chuckled. “I forgot what it was like to be young and arrogant.”

  “What is her name, anyway?”

  His cocked his brow and snapped the reins again. “You’ll never hear it cross these lips. I’m old and wise now, ya see.”

  “Will we reach Brookhaven tomorrow?” I asked, changing the subject.

  “Tomorrow, around mid-morning. I’ll give you the short tour as we drive through to
wn.”

  I chuckled. “I thought we knew each other well enough that you’d at least give me the long tour.”

  “Brookhaven’s tiny. There is no long tour.”

  CHAPTER TWO

  ARABELLA

  Oryn took his time inside. Well into his second cup, I watched from the single tiny window that faced the alley, which offered a view of the side of a taller wooden building so old, I was afraid to lean against it. I could see his blurry shape through the warbled, yellowed panes of glass.

  A wench strolled by and filled my brother’s tankard, bringing him a loaf of steaming, hot bread bigger than his palm. He tore it apart with his hands and tore into the soft flesh. My stomach tightened, a pang pushing through my middle. Wincing, I pushed those feelings away and straightened my back. It only took a second for my stomach to stop chewing itself.

  A young man ran into the alley and stopped just inside the shadows cast by the building next to the tavern. He planted his hands on his knees and panted, catching his breath. He was... beautiful. There was no other way to put it. Square jaw covered with a couple days of scruff, full lips, dark hair that was a little too long and hung into his eyes. He smelled good… of the dark earth that clung to his fingernails, the soles of his boots, and the hems of his pant legs.

  He stood up and pressed his back against the wall before opening his eyes. In the shadows, they looked as dark as his hair, like they ate up all the light in the world.

  My throat became dry.

  His lips parted as he pushed off the wall, wincing. “Sorry to bother you,” he apologized.

  “You didn’t,” I croaked, clearing my throat and repeating the words again, stronger.

  “Good. You haven’t seen a fellow run through here in a purple coat with tails along the back, have you? I spotted him in the crowd, but haven’t been able to catch him. There are too many people in the streets.”

  “I haven’t seen anyone wearing a coat at all.” A trickle of sweat slipped down my chest as I watched Oryn being served yet another pint. Damn him. He looked up and waved across the room, and then a man with pale white skin and hair slid into the seat across from him. He wore a purple coat that looked far too thick and fine to be worn in the summer. One of the coat tails laid on the bench beside him.

  “Is that the man you’re looking for?” I asked, pointing in the window.

  The young man joined me, stooping to get a clear view through the warped, hazy glass. “I think so, yeah. I haven’t talked to him yet, but that’s the coat.”

  “He’s with my brother.”

  “Why is your brother here?” he asked.

  “Getting supplies,” I replied, my hot breath making a circle of fog on the glass. “Who’s the man in the purple coat?”

  “I’ve been walking around for almost a week looking for work. A man gave me a job cleaning his stalls yesterday, but he said if I wanted something permanent, to look for a man in town today wearing a bright purple coat with tails. And that fellow,” he added, pointing, “is the only man I’ve seen wearing one.”

  Everyone knew never to trust the rich, but that wasn’t the only thing off with the man in the purple coat. Who wore thick coats in summer unless they had something to hide? The man didn’t have pointed ears, but I’d bet the other half of Oryn’s bread roll that he was fae…

  A rumbling growl tore across my stomach, loud enough that the young man heard it and looked down at my belly. I fixed my eyes back on Oryn and the strange man slid something across the table to him, hiding whatever it was with his hand.

  “Are you hungry?” the young man asked.

  He was close enough that I could sniff him discreetly. Rich soil. “You have a strange accent,” I proclaimed, unable to keep from staring at him and unabashedly watching his lips for the way they formed the words he would answer me with.

  “I’m from the Seven Kingdoms.”

  “Why did you leave?” I wondered aloud. I’d heard that there were no fae there; that the waters were as clear as crystal, and the grass as green as emeralds.

  “Because leaving was easier than staying,” he answered without blinking.

  There were golden flecks hidden in the depths of his irises, like a seam of gold licking through a piece of coal. His words seemed more honest than anyone’s I’d ever heard. Maybe it was because I left for the same reason. Or because I knew that if it meant something more, something better, I’d take my chances and stow away on a boat headed north.

  “I know what that’s like,” I admitted openly.

  He made a noise in the back of his throat and peered into the tavern again. The man in the purple coat stood and shook Oryn’s hand. What kind of supplies could he possibly have bought from a man dressed so fine? The thought ate at me. If Father’s habits had been passed down, Oryn could be into something much worse than bottles of liquor.

  The pale gentleman walked quickly away from Oryn’s table toward the front door.

  As if he’d heard me, Oryn finished his ale and wiped his mouth with the back of his meaty hand, then looked through the window at me. I stepped out of sight, unsure why I cared. I should’ve known he was aware of me watching him. He was a hunter, always keen on his surroundings.

  “The man you seek is leaving,” I warned.

  “Yeah, I saw that,” the stranger responded, his brows furrowing.

  I expected the dark-haired visitor to run away after him; to leave me behind and never look back. Instead, the dark young man turned to me. “Will you do me a favor?” Before I could ask him why I should, he added, “Stay with your brother. I have a strange feeling in my gut today.”

  That he even cared to warn me of such things struck a chord in my heart that had never been played. “Now that you mention it,” I began haltingly, “I don’t think you should follow the man in the purple coat. Something is ‘off’ about him. I think he’s fae.”

  He pursed his lips and lingered a moment. “Take care of yourself.”

  He was going to ignore my advice, which made my gut think he was making a grave mistake. “You too.” The words fell from my lips as the muscles rippled beneath his stained white shirt. He glanced back at me before disappearing around the corner, our eyes meeting for what was only a brief moment, but which felt much longer.

  I jogged to the mouth of the alley and searched for him, but the young man had already vanished.

  Just then, Oryn stepped out of the tavern and ticked his head for me to follow him. “We’re going to the market for a few things.”

  “Food, I hope.”

  He chuckled lazily, making me grit my teeth. His belly was full of ale and bread, but mine was empty. He tossed me the other half of the small loaf of bread he’d been chomping on. “If you need more than that to eat, we’d better make for the woods. That’s where we’ll find our dinner.”

  “What sort of supplies did you get from that man?”

  Oryn turned around so fast, I ran into his chest and bounced backward into a man who cursed me soundly for stopping so abruptly. My brother ignored the angry man and instead pointed his finger between my eyes. “Never you mind. You hear me?”

  “Yeah,” was all I could muster. What has my brother gotten himself into?

  CHAPTER THREE

  CARDEN

  When we rolled up to the local tavern, Old man Harper pulled the reins, cooed to his horses, and told me to get out of his wagon. The trip was over. “Welcome to Brookhaven. Don’t get lost,” he laughed. “And steer clear of the woods to the north. The fae queen I told ya about rules those parts.”

  I’d thanked him for taking me along with him, and for the warning I didn’t think was real. When I pictured the fae in my mind, they were either little blue men with pointed ears, grotesque human-spider mixtures, thanks to Harper, or tall, thin, beautiful women who loved and took pity on homeless, human former princes.

&n
bsp; After leaving the beautiful, sad girl outside the tavern, I followed the man in the vibrant purple coat and saw him climb into a carriage that trotted along a northern forest road, slowly enough that I could follow him for a while. When I lost sight, I could still follow the deep tracks cut into the loamy, dark earth of the northern woods.

  That was when a set of guards, wearing blood orange suits and armed with matching spears, surrounded me. “Trespasser!” one yelled. The second man screamed the same thing and they took turns shouting that I was on their land without permission. I looked around, suddenly believing in the fae, and terrified they would alert an enormous fae monster who liked his dinner warm…

  I held my arms out. “I mean no harm! I didn’t know I was on your land,” I hollered, trying to get them to stop screaming.

  … but what came out of the woods was a woman so beautiful, I couldn’t stop staring. Her flawless skin glowed with a translucent brilliance in the twilight as the last rays of sun disappeared over the hills to the west.

  The opulent gown she wore undulated between scarlet and tangerine, as deep as an angry sunrise on the ocean, a harbinger of ship-sinking weather. The gold crown on her head was crafted to look like fire, and the metal somehow writhed and flickered, licking up toward the sky. She gestured upward with her hand and I rose into the air, hovering a few feet above it.

  “What are you doing?” I stammered, realizing I’d just come face-to-face with the fabled fae Queen of the Northern Forest.

  She narrowed her hawkish eyes. “You’re on my land. Trespassing is punishable by death.”

  “I didn’t know it was yours,” I eked out as a force squeezed my middle. It was like she had an enormous invisible hand and I was stuck in the middle of it.

  “Everyone knows to whom the Northern Forest belongs.” She turned to her soldiers. “Teach him not to walk where his feet shouldn’t tread. Then leave his body near Brookhaven as a warning to others who might have forgotten their place.”