by Everly Frost
He finally lets go of the halberd, but a silver blade glints in his other hand, this one much smaller, not much more than a knife I’d use to peel fruit. Where the stars did that come from?
“You wanted me to show myself,” he says. “So I did. Now you can do me the same courtesy.”
His voice is deep, like the growl that the old Vanem Dragon makes when it’s angry. It tells me that this Fell creature isn’t used to being disobeyed.
It occurs to me that the jabs he made at the sides of my face were intended to cut through my mask, not injure me. He also used the flat of his arm to push me back against the tree instead of his fist, which could have knocked me out.
He wants me to remove my mask. In fact, he commanded it.
Except that it’s in my nature to rebel against the things I can’t control.
I struggle and kick with my legs as he continues to pin me against the tree with the entire length of his body. He’s much stronger than any other Fell I’ve fought, and I feel like a butterfly batting against him. Before I can stop him, he slips the clasp holding my facemask and hood in place, wrenching them apart.
Sour air rushes in and my hair escapes, untwining like a coiled snake across my left shoulder. The angry movement he made ensures that his fingers tangle in my hair, tugging on the white strands while his knife hovers on the other side of my face, in a perfect position to cut my cheek.
As my eyes meet his, he sucks in a sudden breath, freezing so completely that his fist clenches painfully against my scalp.
Up close, I can see the flecks in his eyes, dark and inky. The scent of caramel is nearly overwhelming as his body continues to press against mine, covering every inch of me.
I need to scream. I have to call for help now. He’s fought me like no other Fell before him.
It’s time to admit that I can’t fight him alone.
Sound forms in my throat just as a glow brightens the corner of my vision. It’s so vivid that I blink rapidly, swallowing my cry, confused about where the light’s coming from.
It’s not coming from him, and it’s not a reflection off his blade. It’s not even Treble—it’s more brightly white than Treble’s sapphire lightning and it’s growing brighter with every tense second that stretches between the Fell and me.
The Fell’s gaze flickers from my face to the spot where he fists my hair. He’s looking directly into the light, which confuses me because that would mean the light is coming from the spot where he’s touching me.
For a second, his grip eases and his fingertips gently brush my scalp. The tense lines of his expression soften, but just as quickly, his lips twist into an angry line and his forehead creases in a fierce scowl.
He slides his fingers free, splaying them wide as if he’s trying not to touch me any more than he has to.
The light fades as he steps away without hurting me, which confuses me even more.
Pacing back from me, he shakes his head, a quick jerk as if he’s trying to rid himself of an unwanted thought. His blade arm lowers and he doesn’t reach for the halberd plunged securely into the tree.
His voice grates in the air. “Your beauty is lethal.”
I blink at him.
I should be fighting back now that he released me, but… nobody has ever called me beautiful before. My hair is too white—too much like an old fae’s—my jaw is too strong, and my eyes are a dull forest green, not bright like other fae’s eyes. What I lack in appearance, I seek to make up for with tenacity. My people call me fierce. Single-minded. Unapproachable. Cold. Or more simply… champion.
“What do your people call you?” I demand to know, wondering if the Fell have names.
He doesn’t answer me, his focus suddenly on my lips, but his expression grows more ferocious with every heartbeat.
Suddenly, the fact that he backed off feels like a bad thing.
He twists his blade in the air and my stomach begins to turn with it. I know without a doubt that he could cause just as much damage with that tiny knife as he could with the heavy halberd he abandoned.
He says, “If you want to live, you should scream for your people.”
Chapter 2
I won’t let him beat me.
I’m the Queen’s champion, for star’s sake.
What if he’d crept into the Queen’s chamber? Could I have stopped him from killing her?
I grit my teeth and narrow my eyes.
Of course I could have.
I just need to remember why I’m here: to kill this Fell.
My legs burst into action and I run straight for him, my hair flying out behind me as I duck, roll, and sail under his swinging knife arm. My hand closes around my dropped dagger, my movements faster than his as I spin, still kneeling, and slash at the back of his calves. He jumps away from me, avoiding the blow just in time, but before he can turn and retaliate, I plant my free hand on the ground and kick the back of his left knee.
His leg buckles and he drops with a shout.
I leap toward him from behind. My arms sweep around his shoulders and my foot remains pressed against the back of his calf, pinning his knee to the ground while my chest rests against his spine.
My dagger kisses his neck and my free hand tangles in his hair.
A single swipe will kill him.
“Drop your knife!” I order him.
His response is an angry rumble. “No.”
I will kill him all the same. “You’re braver than most of your kind.”
My muscles twitch, ready to sever his neck when he asks, “Am I braver than my mother?”
His mother? I pause, not sure how to respond, my thoughts whirling. Fell must have family, but I never really considered whether or not they have the capacity to love. Did his mother try to cross our border? Does she lie in a muddy grave beneath the trees where the Border Guards would have buried her? Did I kill her?
My hesitation lasts only a heartbeat, but it’s a mistake.
His right hand grabs my knife arm, wrenching it wide as he drops his body and uses the forward momentum to fling me off his back. I land with a crunch, rolling to my feet to see him pitch his knife into the mud.
My eyes fly wide as he raises his fingers to his lips and whistles.
It’s the exact whistle I use to call Treble to me when I need him.
The shrill sound cuts the heavy silence around us.
Treble’s reaction is like a kneejerk. His glowing form jolts upward in the distance. His lightning spears through the air so brightly that it pierces the fog in all directions, flooding the clearing with light. Suddenly, everything within fifty feet is visible.
His wings rise and fall with a sharp crack.
The sound is loud enough to be heard from the sky. Even the distant glitter grass vibrates so hard that its discordant hum scrapes my hearing.
I jump to my feet, my hand shooting toward Treble to stop him from flying to me. I don’t know what the Fell is up to and I don’t want my thunderbird to be hurt. “Treble! Stay back.”
I’m grateful when Treble obeys, but his arched neck and wild eyes tell me he’s agitated beyond belief.
I spin to face the Fell.
He gives me a smile that contains no humor, only deadly intent. “I told you to call your people.”
I take a step toward him, my blade gripped securely in my hand. “You want the Bright Ones to come? Are you mad?”
“Maybe I am,” he says. “Losing a loved one makes me do crazy things.”
He must be suicidal. He must have come here intending to dig himself a grave.
But why not die by my blade?
His actions don’t make sense and that makes him dangerous.
I keep my distance as he steps into the center of the clearing, making himself completely visible.
The cracks of wings and rainbow of lightning filling the sky above us tells me that a squadron of thunderbirds will be upon the Fell in fewer than sixty seconds.
I use my time wisely, slapping my dagger to my hi
p, where it liquifies and sticks again, then I sprint to the tree where my sword is pinned. I follow a wide arc to avoid the Fell, more confused when his gaze follows me, but he doesn’t attempt to stop me.
Nothing this Fell does makes sense.
Wrenching the halberd from the tree, I quickly retrieve my sword, slap it against my left shoulder, where it liquifies, and decide to take his weapon too since he hasn’t stopped me. I don’t have much time to study it, but the curved blade is shiny and etched with a circular symbol I don’t recognize. One side is curved like a moon while the other is splayed like the rays of the sun.
This weapon is nothing like the rusty knives the Fell usually carry.
Evander’s thunderbird appears above us first, spearing toward the ground a second ahead of the rest of the squadron. Cadence’s deep red wings shoot wide, blood-red lightning crackling in the air as she slows her fall a moment before Evander leaps from her back.
He will have assessed the situation from the sky.
Even though he’s concealed in armor from head to toe, it’s easy to tell it’s him since he’s the only man in the Border Guard. He isn’t as muscular as the Fell, but Evander is built for speed, his indigo armor sucking at the brightness around us as two daggers solidify in his hands and he runs straight at the Fell.
Behind him, nine more thunderbirds drop into the clearing in rapid succession, their female riders leaping from their backs one by one in a swift beat while the birds rise again. It’s an efficient, practiced move that allows each rider to jump to the ground without colliding with the one before it. Treble is the only bird that remains on the ground.
The Fell braces as Evander runs toward him, crouching as if he’s about to break into a sprint, but he doesn’t try to retrieve his knife. Instead, he turns his hands palms up and blows softly across his fingertips—an odd move—before he clenches his fists and appears to wait for impact.
I stay well back, holding my breath for the inevitable conclusion to the Border Guard’s attack: another dead Fell. My only regret is that I couldn’t kill him myself.
At the last possible moment before Evander reaches him, the Fell leaps sideways, launching into a run that allows him to evade Evander’s attack. Evander’s blade slices across the Fell’s bicep, but the cut must not be deep because the Fell keeps running.
My jaw drops as the Fell sprints straight at the landing women, his arms pumping. He leaps toward the first one while she’s still reaching for her sword. He opens his fist and shoves his hand against her masked face.
To my shock, she screams, jolts backward, drops her sword, and falls to the ground, convulsing so violently in the mud that sludge splatters up around her. Smoke rises from her mask as it melts off her cheek.
The Fell darts between the next two women, ducking their weapons, shoving them, one on her knee, the other on her thigh. They immediately drop, screaming, their armor melting where he touched them.
What is he doing to them? He didn’t hurt me like that when he touched me.
I drop the halberd and break into a run, seconds behind Evander, as the other women converge on the Fell, who continues to dart between them, dodging their blades while succeeding in knocking into them.
Evander spins as I catch up to him. He hooks his arm around my waist and yanks me to a stop so abruptly that he lifts me off my feet. In the distance, the Fell spins, glancing back, and his eyes narrow as his gaze rakes over Evander and me. In the next second, he’s moving again, focusing on the attacking women.
Evander shouts through his facemask. “No, Aura! Stay back. You have to fight tomorrow. You can’t get hurt tonight or you’ll be weak.” He puts me firmly on the ground. “Our people need you. Let me handle this.”
His voice holds an accusation and I hear what he’s not saying: I should have let him handle it from the beginning. I shouldn’t have come out to the border, let alone chosen to be the prey tonight.
Regret passes through me. I needed to get away from the palace and all the politics of the Winter Ascending. I needed to stop thinking about tomorrow, so I escaped out here to do what I do best: fight.
It was selfish. A moment of weakness. Now Evander’s worried about me. I’m a distraction he didn’t need. No other fae would grab me like he did, but he’s behaving like a brother, not a warrior, right now.
Still, I argue with him. “I can help. I can kill him if I use my power.”
“Do not! We can’t use our power or we’ll be contaminated by the creature’s darkness,” he warns me. “You know the rules. We kill him with our weapons and that’s all.”
His voice lowers to an angry order. I can practically feel the glare in his eyes. “Now stay here.”
I grit my teeth, swallowing my frustration, and give him a curt nod. I’ve already delayed him from the fight for too long.
Evander doesn’t waste another moment, racing after the Fell, who has sent four more women screaming to the ground. They convulse in the mud while only two women remain standing.
I’m torn between needing to watch Evander—and trying to help the women who have fallen. Trusting that Evander can take care of himself, I break his order to stay exactly where he left me, hurrying to the first woman where she lies in the sludge. She’s far enough away from the fight that Evander won’t worry that I’m trying to edge my way back into the battle.
Treble shifts to stand beside me, clawing his way through the mud to lower his head to the fallen woman.
I stop him before he can touch her. “No, Treble. We don’t know what’s wrong with her.”
The woman stops trembling just as I drop to my knees beside her. Her facemask has peeled away from one side of her face. A burn mark the size of my thumb stretches across her exposed cheek, red like berries around the edges but quickly turning black in the middle. It must be some kind of acid. Maybe poison, or some combination of both.
Her eyes are wide open, staring skyward, unseeing. The rise and fall of her chest tells me she isn’t dead. She’s in some kind of trance.
Careful not to touch her in case the poison passes to me, I hover my hand above her face, cautiously drawing on my power.
My palm warms and a glow emits from my fingertips, the smallest glimmer of starlight.
I have to be very careful. My power can rapidly progress from illuminating to deadly depending on the force with which I call it. Right now, I want to shine a light into the darkness of her mind and calm her.
As the glow from my fingertips lights up her face, her rapid breathing eases and the pained crease in her forehead disappears. My starlight can ease whatever pain she’s feeling until we can get her to our healers.
Switching my focus to the other fallen women, I’m startled to see that the remaining two women lie on the ground, and the Fell now holds Evander’s sword.
How the stars did he get it?
He beats Evander back through the mud with fierce cuts aimed at Evander’s chest and neck.
Evander stumbles.
My eyes widen to see a burned patch of armor across Evander’s shoulder, which must mean he was burned when the Fell took his sword.
Evander’s still upright. He’s fighting the poison, and he still controls his two daggers, but the Fell’s attacks are swift and decisive. I’ve fought enough battles to know lethal intent when I see it. The Fell may have left the women alive, but he’ll kill Evander.
I break into a run just as the Fell stabs Evander’s left hand, forcing him to drop one of his daggers. The sword moves in flashes, wrenching from Evander’s hand and arching toward his heart.
Evander’s other arm swings, sluggish now, but his shorter dagger is aimed at the Fell’s heart. He’ll take the death blow through his own chest as long as he kills the creature at the same time.
“No!” I launch myself at the Fell, knocking into his side and pushing him off course. His sword flies wide, missing Evander. Even though I dig in my heels to stop myself falling on him, I’m now dangerously within stabbing distance myself.
<
br /> From the corner of my eye, Evander drops to the ground with a heavy thud. His eyes are open but unseeing as the poison finally takes control.
I have to help him!
All thoughts of battle strategy fade into the background and survival becomes paramount. I’m surrounded by my fallen people. This Fell is stronger and faster than all of them.
Curse the stars; he’s stronger and faster than me.
I’m done following the rules. No matter what poison he was using to defeat my people, he doesn’t have my power.
Darkness be damned.
If I don’t stop this Fell, he’ll find a way into the Queendom and destroy everything I love like his people did before.
Clenching my fists, I take two quick steps into the danger zone right in front of him and allow the light inside me to surge to lethal levels.
Across the way, Treble senses the danger and takes to the sky with a cracking swoosh of his wings, leaving us in foggy darkness once more.
“I am the Queen’s champion!” I shout. “I will fight you with my whole heart until one of us is dead!”
The Fell’s eyes widen.
His focus shoots to my glowing hand. The color drains from his face, pure shock filling his features.
He drops Evander’s sword. His hand flies out in a defensive move.
“No!” he shouts. “Don’t do it!”
I’m already leaping toward him.
As my open palm shoots out, so does his.
He touches me a split second before I can touch him.
Chapter 3
His hand is like fire.
It lands on my chest right above my heart, the poison melting my armor instantly. But when his palm sinks against my bare skin… it doesn’t burn me.
A confusingly blissful, warm sensation spreads across my chest. His palm is calloused and rough, but oddly soothing, even though it grates against me as his entire hand presses against me, skin to skin.
I don’t feel the poison, don’t feel like I’m losing control.