AshesAndBlood

by Katie Zaber

  “After midnight. How much further?” Poor Mana. He’s carried Kilyn for almost three hours, plus a backpack. She’s fast asleep. We made it to the tree line before she started dragging behind, asking for a break.

  Even I’m exhausted, but I don’t think she is used to endurance workouts. Sure, she can clean and transform me into a queen, but none of that involves uphill hiking on rough terrain. If it weren’t for Sean’s generosity with food—giving us the energy we desperately needed and the few minutes of rest—we wouldn’t be able to make it to the cabin. A couple of times, we have heard nunda howling nearby. Mana would climb up the nearest tree super fast, slice to where he left us, and slice us back up the tree until the pack passed by before continuing. He wouldn’t allow us to carry a torch. It gave us two breaks on our journey, but it made the hike take longer.

  What puzzles me is that the path ended at this huge jade tree. Problem is, there’s no cabin in sight.

  “It should be here. The trail markers lead here. This is where it was. I don’t understand.”

  “We can’t stay out in the open. We’ll wait until morning. We’ll climb that tree. It’s high enough to stay safe from the nunda. We’ll rest till dawn,” Mana says.

  “Who’s there?”

  I only know one voice that sounds that grumpy. It’s a smoker’s voice, dry and raspy, from years of breathing in smoke from the forge and puffing on pipes. The man appears from thin air ten feet in front of us, startling Mana into a more defensive position, still holding Kilyn. But to be honest, I’m not sure he could fight right now.

  “Brynjar!” I run to him but stop a foot away. There’s no one else with him. There’s no sign of anyone. “Brynjar, please tell me they are okay. That they are safe! Please!”

  “Confused but safe.” Brynjar glares at Mana. “What you carrying?”

  I speak up before Mana can respond. “Her name is Kilyn. She’s a child. We barely escaped the castle. We don’t know if they are after us or not, but we need a safe place to hide.”

  He stares at the bundle in Mana’s arms, but then Brynjar sighs. “Come, wash up, eat. You have a story to tell.”

  “I can’t wait to hear yours.” I give Brynjar a look. “We need to finish our conversation.” I want to know what he gave me that cured my sight, about the Mara, and everything else that has happened since I arrived outside of Capo.

  Brynjar studies Mana. “Soldiers follow orders, especially a direct order from the king. Won’t hold it against you, but you might have problems with the boys. Kevin won’t be happy to see you. Megan, you go first.” He holds out his hand to assist me with my two bags.

  I pass Brynjar my bags, glad for his welcome and help. Every day has gotten harder, but it’s a relief to find my family alive and safe.

  For now.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine - Kevin

  “Three people on the property,” Brynjar says, shooting straight up in the dark. “Two Fae and someone.”

  Tristan and I sit up, wide awake. I never fell asleep, not with all the webs above me and no sign of their makers. Tristan kicks snoring Xander in the leg. In seconds, the four of us are on our feet, waiting at the only entrance and exit to the cabin. Tristan always has throwing knives hidden all over his body. The parrying dagger he keeps at his bedside is drawn. Xander has an ax, and I clench a hammer. Brynjar looks the least menacing, but he’s the most deceptive and deadly. He holds a small pouch with God only knows what inside. It’s probably some herbs, bones, and stones.

  The girls wake up and retreat to the back corner. There’s a hidden door leading to a small closet with enough space for them. We tried to see how many it could hold. The girls had trouble squeezing in. None of us men could fit, but that’s fine. Our job is protecting the women we love.

  “Who would come here?” Xander asks.

  Brynjar doesn’t respond. He stares out into the darkness, looking at a spot. He can sense what direction they approach from, even if we can’t see anything. He told us earlier the forest speaks to him. If he takes care of the forest, the forest takes care of him. It protects him and his house. Also, it explains why he isn’t afraid of nunda. They have a mutual respect for one another. I wish he would tell them to leave us alone.

  Tristan and I stare out the windows on either side of the door while Xander stands centered behind it. I don’t think he wants to see what’s coming—he just wants to kill it. I look into the darkness, searching the same area Brynjar studies, but I can’t see a damn thing.

  Brynjar laughs, surprising the three of us. He opens the door, then walks outside, closing the door behind him. I can’t see what he is staring at. Maybe the camouflage cabin works both ways, which is unhelpful for us non-Druids, who are unsure what the hell is happening outside. He walks until he disappears right in front of our eyes, just like the Fae did to Megan. I run to the door, trying to open it, but it’s locked or sealed. The asshole locked us in. Unable to leave, I go back to the window and try to open it. It’s sealed too. I stare outside at where he disappeared, hoping he comes back. We wait in the dark cabin for him to reappear, fearing the worst. Trapped inside his cabin forever or until a powerful enough Fae destroys all the wards and kills us. Both end in death, if he doesn’t return.

  Out of nowhere, a tall, slender body wearing a dirty, dark green horseback riding outfit walks onto the property. She’s wearing muddy knee-high boots and her long, dark hair is tied in a tight braid, hanging down to her waist.

  “Is that… Can it be her? She’s…” Tristan sucks in a deep breath.

  “She’s taller. Shit… it can’t be her. It’s too dark to tell.” There are no words to describe our confusion.

  I light a lantern to get a better look. Tristan and Xander copy me. Shining the light outside reveals someone we know, but different. How the hell is she alive? What experiments did they perform on her? It’s Megan, but she’s changed.

  “She’s Fae? How? Are you?” Tristan turns, pointing a sharp blade at my chest.

  I raise my arms in defense. “No. I don’t know what’s happening. It looks like her, but I don’t know.”

  Brynjar walks behind the woman, carrying three sacks. He speaks to another much taller Fae, who is cradling a bundle. It’s too dark to see his face, but he towers over Brynjar.

  “Kevin! Dana! Ciara! Sarah! Tristan! Xander!” She steps more into the light of the cabin, about ten feet away. It’s Megan, but a morphed Megan. “It’s me, I swear. Kevin, you used to date Mary. Your family lives in sunny Florida. My sister is a cunt and my mom is a raging alcoholic. By the way, I talked to Blue. He’s pissed Tristan brought him to the hospital and told everyone he was drunk.”

  It’s her.

  It’s Megan.

  No one else would know those things. Magically the door opens, allowing me to run to her. Three feet away, I stop. It’s hard not to question the woman in front of me. She’s beautiful, even immaculate. Perfect, like an angel or goddess. A warrior goddess. Dirt and blood cover her face, but it does nothing to take away from her beauty, glowing beneath the gore. Crystal blue eyes, brighter blue than the sky on the clearest day, even if they are bloodshot, stare at me. She’s six and a half feet tall, if not taller, with deep red-wine hair braided beautifully down to her waist. Her riding clothes are in bad condition; mud and blood cover them along with a fine layer of ash.

  She’s Megan but not. Is she a doppelganger? Is this some type of trick the Fae sent to torture us? Her eyes look loving and happy to see me. Tears swell up in her eyes. Her arms reach out, waiting, and wanting a hug.

  It’s hard. I already convinced myself she was dead, or I had hoped she was for her own sake. “Megan? What did they do to you? Are you okay? Are you you?”

  She shakes her head. Stray hairs fall loose and so does a single tear, clearing a path down her dirty cheeks. “They did nothing. It’s who I am. My father, he’s Fae.” Tears stream down her face. “Don’t worry. You’re not Fae. I think I’m me. I feel like me, but when I look in the mirror… I have the s
ame memories. I don’t know what’s happening. I’m scared.”

  I’m compelled to hug her, but I’m too dazed to move. “Your dad died ten years ago. You talk like you saw him.”

  “On Earth, he faked his death. Here, he’s king.”

  “What?” I take a step forward. I’m shocked, even more than I was a minute ago. Every time I think things are upside down and unable to get any more complicated, they do. Everything she says makes no sense.

  “Kevin, there’s so much.” She breathes in and out fast, on the verge of hyperventilating, sobbing. “He’s an evil Fae King. So evil. He isn’t who we knew. He’s not my dad. The king, my father, wants me dead. He sent assassins to kill me.”

  I wrap my arms around her. What hell did they put her through? What did they do?

  “Megan, they must have done something. They confused you, drugged you, but your dad is dead. We buried him. It’s okay. You’re safe now,” I whisper as she sobs. “We have you back. You’re safe here.”

  She cries into my shoulder, hugging me, mumbling things that make little sense. An evil king, her father, marrying a cousin, rape, kids, war, death, blood on her hands. That one, she keeps repeating—how there’s so much blood and it’s all her fault. What did they do to my little cousin? She can’t stop crying and shaking. What did those monsters do?

  I turn my attention back to Brynjar. I’m now able to see the Fae standing next to him. He’s the one who took her. I will never forget his metallic hair and his cold metal eyes. Adrenaline rushes though my veins as I shove Megan toward the cabin out of his reach.

  Over the last few days, I have thought of all the ways I wanted to kill the asshole who took her. Crush his neck with my bare hands, cut off his head, or smash it into pieces with a hammer, but none of those felt just. I’ve thought about the different ways I would torture him. Make the Fae scream in misery for days, weeks. Rip off his nails, then cut off his knuckles one by one, joint by joint until all that’s left of him is a torso. No limbs, no parts dangling, just a torso and head.

  “Calm your ass down. You don’t understand,” Brynjar says, stepping in front of the bastard who took Megan.

  “Kevin,” Megan says, pulling on my arm with more strength than she should have. “He’s my bodyguard.”

  “What?” That makes zero sense.

  “I need to explain. Nothing is what it seems.” Megan holds my arm firmly, making it almost impossible for me to move. How did she get this strong?

  “Megan?” a little voice cries out. The asshole shifts and a tiny face peeks out. A kid. She sees Brynjar and me. Her eyes grow wide as she screams in horror, burying her pale face into the Fae’s chest, crying and cowering away.

  Megan pushes past me, going to the bundle in the Fae’s arms, wiping away her tears. “Kilyn, it’s okay. These people are my friends. They won’t hurt you. I promise.”

  The kid cries and whimpers.

  “What is going on?” Tristan steps out of the cabin with Xander following.

  Only now making their way out of hiding, the girls reach the doorway. All of their eyes land on Megan, and not one of them stops. None of them questions her. They all dart toward her, saying her name. Xander and Tristan try to block them, but they dash around them before we can stop them.

  They stand next to that metal asshole. The person who kidnapped my little cousin against her will and let her become one of them, besides whatever sick shit they did to her. There better be a truthful explanation, not some crazy bullshit like my uncle is alive. He’s dead and buried. Brynjar is a puzzle himself, treating Megan’s so-called bodyguard and kidnapper with respect. Telling me not to kill him. Everything keeps making less sense.

  After the girls smother Megan with hugs, she turns back to us men. We stand with weapons still drawn, waiting for an explanation. “Mana is a soldier. He was one of the King’s Knights. King Taliesin is my father.” She pauses, gulping as if afraid to speak. “I’m a princess. The king tasked Mana to bring me to the castle, and then to be my bodyguard. He meant no harm when he took me. The king gave him a direct order. He never hurt me and has always protected me. He saved our lives. Kilyn was a slave who became my handmaiden. Please come out.” Megan reaches for the bundle in his arms. A child who’s close to five feet tall comes down. She looks around, scared out of her mind. “Kilyn, these are my friends and family. If they look mad or angry, it’s only because they think I was in danger. They only want to protect me.” The Fae nods. She’s still too terrified to speak and ducks behind Megan. I thought it was the other way around, humans afraid of Fae. “We have much to talk about. So much has happened.”

  “You look like you need a bath and some fresh clothes. I’ll get some water boiling and brew some hot tea and coffee,” Ciara says to the three of them, but gives the child more loving attention. “Come, Kilyn. Help me pick out what tea to serve. We have a couple of delicious flavors. Oh, and I think we have biscuits and some honey butter.”

  Ciara reaches out for the girl’s hand. Kilyn looks at her, then back to Megan, afraid of going with Ciara. Megan nods and the girl slowly extends her hand as if waiting for a trap to spring, for Ciara to kill her at any second. Once Ciara takes hold of her hand, she marches her past Tristan, Xander, and me without pause. Acting like nothing is wrong, that there isn’t a dangerous Fae standing feet away, and a shitload of questions. Sarah and Dana follow Ciara, leaving us men and Megan outside.

  “It’s been a muddy, bloody day.” Tears flow down Megan’s cheeks. She wipes them away, dragging her hands down her face. “So much blood.” She cringes, weeping more. Her feet shift, she loses balance, but before she falls, the Fae catches her, keeping her upright.

  “First kill?” Brynjar asks.

  “Three.” Megan looks down at her hands, rubbing them together as if washing them. What the hell happened?

  “We have much to talk about, Mealla.”

  Megan turns around faster than normal to Brynjar. “That’s what the king called me.”

  “Your father,” Brynjar says.

  “My name is Megan. My dad is dead. My family buried him ten years ago. He’s dead. The man sitting on the Paradise throne looks like him, but isn’t him. He might be my father, but he means nothing to me. He is a tyrant who needs to die.”

  Needs to die. Her father. My Uncle Ty? I can’t keep up. It’s pure insanity. Nothing makes sense. The more she speaks, the less sense everything makes. I feel lightheaded and dizzy.

  Brynjar still holds their bags, ushering them to the cabin. “Hot drinks and a bath. Then we finish every conversation,” he says like they’re old friends.

  He gives the three of us a glare, telling us to put our weapons away. Brynjar offering comfort before an explanation dumbfounds me, even if Megan looks horrible. Blood covers her clothes, mud cakes her pants, and a layer of ash or dirt coats the rest of her. If she killed three people, she might be in shock. I’ve never killed anyone, so I can’t say how it would feel. It would depend on the circumstances. I don’t know what happened, but it had to be in defense. She isn’t a murderer.

  We sheath our weapons begrudgingly. Trusting Fae goes against our every instinct. Yes, Brynjar said they aren’t good or bad, that they do what they must. It still doesn’t make me trust Mana. I understand to a degree about orders, and if it was a direct order from the king, that would be like saying no to the president or the Queen of England. You signed up to follow their word. I’m glad he didn’t kill us, but I still feel like he deserves a punch or two for the trouble he caused. A broken jaw and nose.

  We follow them into a cabin that can’t get any smaller with ten people inside. Ciara has the floor cleared already. Damn, she works fast.

  In the cabin light, we can now see the hell they have gone through. Kilyn has a little blood splattered on the sleeve of her shirt. Megan has been spray-painted with it, while Mana has it dried to almost every part of himself and his clothing. It looks like they attempted to clean up, but it only made their skin tinge red. Dried mud covers bo
th Megan and Mana up to their waists and it chips away each time they move, along with flecks of blood. Ash coats the rest of their bodies. It runs throughout their hair, making Megan’s burgundy hair gray. Mana’s silver hair hides most of the gray ash. Every time they move, puffs of smoke plume off them. Each time Megan sees an ash cloud, she rubs her hands, becoming lost in thought. She has been through hell and back. Guess we should be partially glad Mana brought her back to us, but in what condition? How broken is she? Is it possible to repair the damage?

  She says her father is on the throne. That can’t be. He’s dead. There’s no way Uncle Ty is alive and is an evil Fae dictator. The more she talks, the less sense she makes. Right now, she’s mumbling, crying, and trembling as the girls go to work on both her and Kilyn.

  “Boys out. Girls first. Get more water. We should get the little one to bed. It will give us more time to talk,” Dana says, not asking but telling us.

  I’m not happy to spend time outside with Mana. Don’t know if he will truthfully answer our questions. As we head out, Mana grabs his pack, reaching for a large bottle of something.

  After closing the door, we settle down on some chairs around a fire Brynjar makes. I stare at the blood-drenched Fae. He looks like a person up close, if they bathed in blood, mud, and ash. “What’s in the bottle?”

  “A needed drink.” He doesn’t look at anyone. “I don’t think I’ve met a stronger woman. The way she handled everything.” He takes a swing, passing the bottle to Brynjar. He sniffs it, smiles, and takes a large gulp before passing it to Tristan. “Sorry for the other night. Orders from the king. I had no options. I didn’t want to hurt anyone.”

  “Thank you. You could have easily killed us and we wouldn’t have been wiser.” Brynjar understands a soldier’s life. It’s easier for him to forgive and forget—not so much for us three. I can understand to a degree, but seriously, what the hell did they do to her?

  Tristan takes a small pull from the jug and then goes back for a full swing before passing it to Xander.