The Court of Outcasts

by Allison Rose

  “Nola.”

  Her head whipped around at her name, and her gaze met Briar’s. Right. She gathered her thoughts. My friends. She forced images of Lauren and Cameron into her head.

  “Are you well?” Briar asked, a concerned frown on his face. The sunlight glinting through the trees made his black hair seem impossibly shiny, and his wings almost turned a dark blue. Nola wanted to stare forever at that color. Briar always looked out of place to her in the human world; here, he looked as if he belonged despite the fact that he was a dark-colored being against a world of brilliant sun.

  “Nola,” he said her name again, looking at a loss for how to get her attention. His hands hovered in front of him uselessly.

  She tried to focus back on his face, his dark eyes. Her mouth wouldn’t work. “Beautiful,” she finally managed to utter dazedly.

  “Ah,” he sighed as his features smoothed with understanding. His gaze on her grew more calculated, and a cool sensation spread outward from her chest over her skin. The sensation of Faerie grew muffled to a point where it didn’t feel overwhelming. Her mind was able to completely shift to the task at hand. She breathed a sigh of relief and gave Briar a small smile as her cheeks warmed.

  I probably look like a complete idiot.

  “Sorry,” she breathed.

  “You are not used to it,” was all he said, his expression understanding with a hint of sadness, as he turned to regard the castle. He misses home, Nola realized. He had never looked so human to her.

  She shook her head slightly. No. No more getting distracted. Nola focused back on the castle.

  “What is this place?” she asked.

  “The southernmost part of Faerie,” he answered, gaze still roaming the structure as if he could somehow get it to share its secrets if he stared enough.

  “How do you know that?”

  Briar abruptly turned away from her and began wading through the brush and trees. “Come,” he said.

  Nola followed as best she could, though she almost toppled over at least once. He reached back one arm to steady her again before continuing. A few minutes later he stopped at an abrupt ending to the forest.

  Her mouth fell open again as she beheld the barren land before her. As far as she could see to the north, the land was brown, cracked, and brittle, a stark contrast to the bright colors behind her. Blackened husks of trees stood sparingly, giving it a haunted sort of look. Tears pricked at the back of Nola’s eyes and her heart ached.

  What’s wrong with me? She hastily tried to blink them away. I’ve only been here for a few minutes.

  “The results of the Silver Dusk,” Briar said unnecessarily. Nola remembered the story that shaped Faerie society. She found it both tragic and interesting that potential partners—one from the Day Court, the other from the Night Court—sought to bend the rules enough to be together that they almost destroyed all of Faerie. There was a portion of land left behind that the faeries still could not bring back to life.

  “The perfect place to hide something such as this,” Briar said with distaste as he turned away again.

  Nola tore her eyes away from the destruction and struggled to follow as he made his way through the vegetation toward the castle. The questions now tumbled out of her. “How did all these plants and trees get here? What is this place—”

  Briar stopped abruptly and spun to face her. This time she did run into him. He reached out one hand to steady her and one to place a finger on her lips.

  “There are many more ways to eavesdrop in Faerie,” he said in a low voice.

  Nola’s heart pounded, and all she managed to do was nod. Right. This is not home. Not even close. Now that she had processed some of what she saw, she noticed the quiet. An unsettled feeling settled over her.

  If there were people or faeries or animals here, shouldn’t there be noise of some sort?

  Briar continued to lead her, this time to the back side of the castle.

  Nola pressed her lips together, willing herself to keep quiet. What is the plan? Do we even have a plan?

  As if sensing her silent anxiety, as they approached the stone wall Briar turned to her again. The air around them thickened as he formed the moisture around them to muffle sound. “I do not know anything about this place, only that it should not be here. We will have to look inside to find out. You can stay here, or you can come with me. Whatever you wish.”

  “I’m coming with you,” she said in a quiet yet strong voice.

  A corner of his lips twitched up at that, but he remained silent. Reaching one arm up, he grabbed hold of the sill of a window, which was really a semi-circular hole in the stone. “Security is light here,” he commented as he pulled himself up using the vines.

  Is that a good thing or a bad thing? Nola wondered as she allowed him to help her up, not as gracefully, until they were both on the wide sill. As soon as she swung down to the floor in a deserted hallway, noise accosted her. It was so sudden it made her jump and back up a step so her back was plastered to the cool wall. Voices drifted up, sounding as if they came from somewhere below—the mindless chatter of a group of people.

  Nola threw Briar a look of confusion. He didn’t even look at her. Brows furrowed, expression stormy, he stalked around the corner of the hall. After one furtive look in the other direction, Nola scrambled to follow him.

  He rounded the corner with barely a glance to see if it was clear, making Nola wince and clench her fists against grabbing his arm and telling him to be careful. And then the sight she glimpsed over the rail as they came up on a balcony left her frozen.

  Scattered around the expanse of space below were wooden chairs and benches, piles of blankets strewn across the floor. And lounging on them were humans.

  Teenagers. Six of them, Nola realized as she leaned a little further forward, still not willing to go directly up to the rail as Briar did. She wanted to hiss at him to get back, but another glance at the humans below showed they were too wrapped up in conversation to notice. They were laughing.

  The whole scene gave her goosebumps. With a frown, Nola took a step forward as she searched for her friends. Her eyes scanned faces until she spotted Lauren and Cameron over to one side of the room. They were talking together with a boy and a girl, both of whom were facing away from Nola. Her friends both had smiles on their faces.

  And lounging in a chair, laughing as she spoke with another boy, was someone else Nola recognized—Emily, the lost girl from school.

  What kind of sick place is this? Nola was about to turn to Briar to ask just that when a female voice came from their right: “Welcome to Bliss.”

  Chapter 16

  The wind from Rowan’s wings buffeted Kelty as he flew slightly ahead. Normally this sort of action would have her peeved, but she was grateful for his protectiveness today. And also wary of what would happen when he saw Fable, the one responsible for creating the chaos that almost got Rowan killed.

  They touched down next to the throne. Fable had left it like that instead of ordering the elusive land-user to return it to a tree, as Kelty had first seen it. Kelty eyed it and realized she had no desire to sit in it. Rowan gave it a cursory glance, and then his eyes roamed the trees. Kelty could feel the searching power he sent into the ground at her feet. She sent her own power out to the edges of her consciousness. Fable had not tried to mess with her mind yet, but she would be as prepared as she could to fend him off. She looked around at the emptiness with apprehension.

  “You have brought your potential.” Fable seemed to drop out of the sky as he landed softly next to Kelty.

  She stiffened and turned toward him, willing Rowan not to do anything rash. “He will rule with me.” In Faerie, ruling pairs were always partners before they ascended to rule—but this wasn’t Faerie. And Kelty didn’t care much for tradition anyway.

  Fable gave her an assessing look, then his gaze slid to Rowan.

  Kelty turned her head to see her potential giving Fable a stoney look, hands clenched into fists by his
sides. “I suppose you now have better things to do than mess with human youths and torture faeries,” Rowan said in a deceptively calm voice.

  Fable’s eyes glinted. “My apologies for that incident,” he said in a tone that did not sound at all apologetic. He did not address the accusation, instead giving Kelty a tight nod that she did not know how to interpret, and he then turned to look out into the wood.

  Kelty worriedly looked Rowan over, searching for a sign Fable did something to him, though she did not sense any spirit magic during the short exchange. Rowan met her gaze and gave her a tight smile. A part of her relaxed.

  He’s tailed and watched courtiers for years. He can handle this.

  “Lark,” Fable practically barked, his calm demeanor cracking for a split second before smoothing back into place.

  A faerie the color of sunset sailed over from the branches to the side of the clearing, landing with a graceful twirl in front of them. She addressed Fable first, with an apprehensive expression. “They will come,” she assured him in a musical voice before turning to regard Kelty and Rowan with a curious tilt to her head. The black mark of the sun stood out against her pink skin, an unwelcome reminder that those Kelty would be ruling would most likely be of the Day.

  Lark. Kelty searched her memory for what information Rowan had gathered about her. She had an affinity with the beasts. She was part of the Day Court, a promising youth—now just a year older than Kelty’s nineteen years—working in the tower where all communications went in and out, carried by runa, an animal of Faerie much like a bird. She was cast out for “suspicious activity.” What that was exactly, Rowan hadn’t been able to find out.

  The faerie called Lark stared expectantly. Kelty opened her mouth to greet her and realized that she did not know how. Greetings in Faerie were specific to the Day or Night.

  Rowan saved her by inclining his head at Lark. Kelty hastily did the same as heat rose to her cheeks. I am failing already.

  Lark nodded back with a mischievous sparkle in her eyes.

  “Lark will be your adviser,” Fable said, still staring intently into the trees beyond.

  Kelty bristled at the finality in his tone. She turned to protest, but Lark spoke at that moment.

  “I am the best choice,” she said in a solemn tone that was at odds with her chipper demeanor. She backed up a step to stand beside Kelty. It was odd to have an unfamiliar faerie at her side like this. Kelty’s heart suddenly ached fiercely for home and for the familiarity of her sister by her side.

  “Lark,” Fable said her name again, some unknown command laced into it.

  Lark sighed and then let out an ear-piercing yet beautiful whistle. It seemed to reverberate through the air around them.

  Then a red-skinned male literally stepped out of the air in front of them, dark brown hair whirling around in the wind. He had a strong frame and wore a wrapped cloth that left his upper body bare in the same style as Rowan. Kelty returned the challenging look he gave her. Never show fear.

  After a silent, charged moment, the red male backed up a few steps. Kelty kept her eye on him. This one will be a challenge.

  Kelty then caught sight of a tall gray male emerging from the trees on the far side opposite them. The newcomer barely glanced their way as he leaned his back against a tree. He was tall, giant even by faerie standards—who were usually slightly shorter than humans—and had brown hair tied back in braids. His clothing covered most of him, though it hung a little loose in places like he couldn’t be bothered to fix it. He, too, was silent, though his general demeanor seemed gentle—the opposite of the red faerie, who was now shifting restlessly back and forth on his feet.

  Is this it? Kelty gave Fable a questioning look. He swept his arm to the side in a grand gesture and Kelty saw a blue female drifting closer from their right. Even from across the distance, Kelty sensed a sadness about her. She was thin and had a sort of withered look, complemented by her long tangled hair and slightly tattered clothing. Her eyes held a haunted wisdom that made Kelty believe she was older than the others.

  It hit her then just how broken these faeries might be. The blue female stopped just inside the clearing, gazing softly at Kelty, Rowan, Lark, and Fable standing by the throne. The gray male remained inside the treeline across from them. The red male stood a few paces to their left, looking like he wanted to say something but didn’t.

  Fable’s cool voice cut across the clearing. “See your new leader,” he said. “And her potential.”

  At his words, the red faerie’s eyes lost their challenge completely, resentment replacing it. Then, in unison, all except Fable and the blue female intoned, “See the leader of the outcasts.”

  Kelty’s heart twisted at the scene before her. My court is so small. And reluctant. The Court of Outcasts had five members, four of which were probably coerced into being here. There was something so sad about it. They were lost, disjointed. She wondered what sort of hold Fable had over them.

  I suppose that will have to wait until they are not in his presence, though.

  “See the outcasts,” Kelty and Rowan answered together.

  There was an uncomfortable silence. Kelty had expected Fable to speak, but when he looked expectantly at her, she said, “Your names?”

  Though she had addressed the three before her, Lark spoke up from next to her.

  “Anthem of the air.” She gestured to the red male. “Dane of the land.” She indicated the gray male. “Sayra of the water.” She finished by pointing at the blue female and then falling silent.

  Kelty was relieved she pointed out their affinities. She mentally ran through the list. Anthem. His name was familiar. He lived at the Day Court. He was banished for using his power with air to try to choke another of Court.

  His was the only name she recognized. I hope Rowan knows more.

  The silence grew again. Kelty glanced at Rowan in a panic. What now?

  Fable saved her this time. “We work to change this…inhospitable land into something better for all. The humans, in all their misery, have nearly destroyed it. You know my desire to correct the human suffering. The court deals with restoration of the land. We have one of each of the affinities besides light. You can see how we would work together, and now we have the Star to unite us.” He finished his speech by giving her a smile that caused Rowan to frown.

  “And what happens now?” Rowan asked Fable in a tight voice.

  “We continue,” Fable said lightly.

  Well, I am the ruler now. That will happen on my terms.

  “At dawn, we will meet in my wood across the human highway,” she addressed them, trying to sound commanding but not too harsh.

  Rowan turned to give her an incredulous look.

  Moon above, was that the wrong move?

  “Closer to the humans?” Anthem’s tone suggested she might be insane.

  “Yes,” Kelty said firmly.

  Anthem’s look didn’t change, but he didn’t say anything either.

  Fable gave her an appreciative look. Kelty immediately wished to take it back, but it was too late.

  I will be strong.

  The entire situation had her uncomfortable to the point she wanted to fly away immediately. This was not how she imagined her ascension to power would go.

  Well, I am their ruler now. I can leave if I wish. Talk with Rowan. Figure out how to manage this.

  “At sunrise, we begin,” she addressed them all. “I will show you my woods. And you can show me all of your many talents.”

  Anthem smirked at that. Lark nodded. The others didn’t react.

  Kelty turned to Fable. He gave her this position and had a power she was afraid of. Ruling would certainly involve testing his boundaries while trying to figure out exactly what he was up to and trying to save the human world from him.

  Best to show my abilities, but work with Fable at the same time⁠—gain his trust.

  She almost breathed a sigh of relief when he gave her a small nod, as if he couldn’t care le
ss.

  Kelty gave Rowan a look before she took to the air, leaving her daunting new responsibilities behind for now. Rowan followed, flying a little behind her this time. Kelty tried to get a sense of his mood, but came up with nothing. Her own emotions churned within her.

  And landing near her home did nothing to ease her tension.

  Then Rowan spoke. “I will follow you, but I do not like this.”

  Kelty took in his stern look, stiff jaw. “You had to know it would be difficult.”

  “There is something off about them, Fable, all of this.” He sighed and ran a hand over his face, something she had never seen her stoic potential do before. “We will have to be careful.”

  “We know about Anthem. Do you have anything else on the others?”

  Rowan shook his head with a defeated look. “No.”

  “We will just have to find out then. It should not be too difficult,” Kelty rallied. “They are outcasts like us—well, me.”

  His expression softened. “I am a chosen outcast now.”

  A warm fluttering started in her stomach. Yes, he chose me. Even if our souls never choose each other in a true partnership, I’ll have that.

  They talked long into the evening, Rowan asking about Kelty’s training, Kelty trying to put him at ease about Fable.

  An awkwardness hung in the air as night came. They both stood and stared at her home tree. It hadn’t hit Kelty until now that since Rowan would not be going home to Faerie, he would be staying here. And her tree was not nearly big enough for the both of them. She hadn’t thought she would need it to be when she built it.

  They weren’t true partners yet. It wasn’t even proper. But where was he expected to stay? She could grow him a tree near hers, but what message would that send?

  What have I done? Panic hit Kelty. She worked to keep it in control, bottling it up deep inside so it wouldn’t show.

  She heard a small sigh from her side, and then Rowan took off into the trees.

  Oh, no. We cannot end things like this. Not today. Kelty shot up after him.