Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set

by C. N. Crawford

  Most importantly, I still had the iron knife strapped to my thigh.

  I scanned the room, grabbing a bottle of Jack on my way out the door. No way in hell was I leaving that behind.

  Chapter 6

  We approached the Institute, and I sucked in a deep breath.

  What knowledge did they keep behind their ancient stone walls? What magical secrets and ancient teachings?

  I pushed a strand of damp hair out of my eyes, staring up at the medieval tower as we moved closer.

  After the angelic apocalypse decades ago, the world had descended into a dark period known as the Anarchy. Fae, demons, and humans battled to fill the power vacuum. In the end, humans agreed to let the fae nobility—these arseholes—act as enforcers. They were supposed to keep the peace. All other supernaturals were locked in magical realms.

  And now? I’d find out exactly what secrets they’d been hoarding behind their walls.

  We drew closer to the Institute. Its beaming spires and moat illuminated our bodies with blue and gold. The ancient stone walls loomed above the Thames. A bridge spanned the moat of light, leading to a stone gatehouse with two stout towers.

  A fortress, one that had stood here for over a thousand years, a symbol of human achievement and conquest—and now the fae had taken it over. They’d made it their own. When the humans had cut a deal with the Shadow Fae, had they realized they’d be submitting to them?

  I couldn’t help but wonder about what magical knowledge lurked behind those walls now that they’d turned it into the Institute. Whatever it was, I wanted it for myself. The spell-slayers were right—magic was power.

  Weirdly, my stomach started rumbling with hunger. It was hardly the time to think about food, but I couldn’t stop thinking about the lollipops in my backpack. I fought the nearly overwhelming impulse to pull them out now. I needed to act at least a little cool in front of the slayers.

  My two new friends flanked me, and Aengus slid his green eyes to me. “Ruadan and I will cross the bridge. When we get to the other side, you set out for the gatehouse, too.”

  I froze. Oh, bollocks. The Wraith was Ruadan? The person I was supposed to steal a key from?

  I swallowed hard. “Why doesn’t Ruadan talk?”

  Shadows slid around Ruadan, and I glanced at his hands—powerful hands that could crush a man’s windpipe within seconds. This would not be easy.

  I’d never hated Baleros more than I did at that moment.

  “Don’t worry about why he doesn’t speak,” said Aengus. “Just worry about staying alive in the next ten minutes. Have a look over the bridge as you start to cross. Your headlamp should illuminate things for you. Most recruits don’t make it past the threshold.”

  I’d faced death often enough, and I gave him a shrug. “I’m not most recruits.”

  “Your cockiness is going to get you killed some day.”

  I flashed him a charming smile. “It hasn’t yet. Now, are you going to give me a clue about what to expect?”

  “No.”

  Of course not. That would be helpful.

  Without another word, he and Ruadan turned and began crossing the bridge. Amber light from the moat gilded the two spell-slayers. I hated them for it, but the bastards looked like a pair of warrior gods as they crossed the bridge, swords slung over their backs.

  And here I was, shivering in my crappy clothes and headlamp, clutching my weird bug-out bag of lollipops. Delicious lollipops. For reasons I couldn’t explain, I really wanted them right now. Why the hells was I so hungry? I’d eaten an entire pizza for dinner.

  Aengus and Ruadan reached the other side of the bridge, and they stood in the shadow of the gatehouse, just in front of a wooden door.

  Tension rippled over me. I didn’t like facing unknown enemies. Being unprepared was an enormous disadvantage. Whatever foe I was about to face, he was probably used to fighting fae like me, and I didn’t yet know how he operated.

  Slowly, I began crossing the bridge. As I did, I felt the magical light washing over my skin in a rush of euphoric tingles. It felt like sunshine after a long winter, mixed with peppermint oil. If it hadn’t been for my hunger, I would have felt perfect.

  A tug at my chest compelled me to look down at the moat. The white circle of illumination from my headlamp pierced the river of golden light, and some of that euphoria dissolved. Under the golden magic, vibrant green grass grew around bones. Skulls, femurs, ribs … so that was what Aengus meant. What had happened to these recruits? When I strained my eyes, I thought I saw the faintest hints of green smudged on the skulls’ teeth….

  A shuffling behind me turned my head, and I whirled to find a pathetic creature standing on the bridge. A skeletal, cloaked figure, with tangled white hair poking from his hood. He looked half dead, his cheeks hollow, lips thin. Strangely, something green and pulpy was smeared across the lower half of his face, like someone had mashed up plants and rubbed it over his mouth.

  I’d been expecting someone monstrous—a fae giant, maybe a creature with one eye and a giant wooden club. I’d fought men like that before. I’d never fought a creature who looked like he already had one foot in the grave. I almost felt sorry for him.

  But Baleros had taught me well, and I knew better than to underestimate my opponents, even if they looked like death. After all, anyone I’d fought in the arena had found themselves facing off against a petite, lavender-haired girl. Most had underestimated me. And they’d all lost.

  Mentally, I reviewed Baleros’s lessons.

  Assess surroundings. Learn weaknesses.

  The figure stepped closer, and the hunger in the pit of my stomach intensified. I clutched my gut, suddenly ravenous, my mouth watering. Images danced in my head of pies, sandwiches—even Ciara’s weird American spray cheese. My stomach rumbled. Why the hells was I thinking about food right now? I was supposed to be evaluating my opponent, and I was thinking of gods-damned spray cheese.

  I frowned at him as he took a step closer, and I felt as if a yawning void were opening up between my ribs. I’d never been this ravenous before. Even when Baleros had taken my food away for a week at a time, and I was sure the ravening hunger would drive me mad, it hadn’t been this intense. Maybe the grass would fill me….

  Another step closer. I clutched my stomach, unable to think about anything but the piercing desire to fill my stomach with grass.

  But—grass? What in the seven hells?

  That’s when I understood his power. I’d seen the stains on the teeth of the skulls. Like the Horseman of Famine who’d once walked this earth, this fae inspired a feeling of starvation in a person. And then, a compulsive desire to eat moat grass. That’s how the other recruits had died, chewing ravenously until their bodies gave out, drained of life.

  I sniffed the air, catching the faintest hint of moss on him. He was a fae, like me. That meant he was particularly vulnerable to iron. Good thing I had the iron knife with me. I slid it out of the sheath on my leg. Ruadan really should have been more thorough.

  I gritted my teeth, pushing the hunger out of my mind, and lunged for the creature. He dodged out of my way. Just a swirl of steam and a hiss of air, and he’d evaded my blade, reappearing on my other side.

  Hunger gnawed at my gut.

  I pivoted, lunging again, faster this time. But once again, he slipped away with just a hiss of air.

  So he was fast, and the feeling of starvation was getting worse. Now, I could think of almost nothing except filling my belly with grass.

  Focus, Arianna. Kill. Clearly, I couldn’t defeat him through speed. I had to get him to let down his guard. I had to lure him to me.

  Some fae—the worst kind—fed off the pain of others. If this one fed off hunger, I’d let him feast from me.

  I went very still, forcing myself not to move even as I felt desperate need to fill my belly. As the sharp, gaping pain in my stomach intensified, I knew he was getting closer.

  Oh gods, I needed to throw myself into the moat, to stuff my mouth w
ith grass and chew and chew until the hunger didn’t hurt me anymore. I needed to fill my belly so desperately…. The grass was calling to me. The grass would fill me. Drool pooled in my mouth.

  But I knew that way lay madness. If I jumped into the moat, I’d never make it out.

  Assess weaknesses….

  With each sharpening pain in my stomach, I was drawing him closer. This one fed off other people’s hunger, but he was also driven by his own cravings.

  Exploit the weaknesses.

  Maybe I had a bit of an advantage over some of the other novices who’d fought him. I was used to this feeling. When Baleros had grown angry with me—if I hadn’t earned him as much money as I was supposed to, or if I’d talked back—he’d lock me in a metal box. I’d go a full week with nothing but water. And the only way I hadn’t lost my mind was that I’d retreated to my fantasy world, one I dreamt about at night: a bedroom in a palace, with one wall open to the air. A roaring river carved through a verdant valley below the window, where honeysuckle bloomed all around me. And curling over the floral scents in the air, the sweet smell of apples….

  I had no idea where the image had come from, but my fantasy world often seemed more vivid to me than the real world. Right now, I could almost taste the bread—

  A sharp stab of hunger ripped me in two. I sniffed the air. He was close enough, and I opened my eyes.

  Go in for the kill.

  This time, my blade was in his chest before he had a chance to dodge away.

  The creature’s body began to crack and desiccate before my eyes, his skin flaking off. He crumbled to dust before me, until nothing remained but his cloak.

  The hunger receded from my belly, and I slid the knife back into its sheath.

  When I crossed to the other side of the bridge, Ruadan and Aengus were waiting for me, lurking in the shadows before a wooden door.

  “You survived,” said Aengus.

  Ruadan moved for me—so fast I didn’t have the chance to react—and in the next moment, he was pressing me up against the stone wall. His forearm dug into my chest, and he bared his canines in a ferocious snarl. Panic tightened my lungs.

  His cowl had fallen, and for the first time, his features came into focus. White-blond hair hung over his shoulders. Even in the moonlight, his skin looked golden, and shadows molded the striking planes of his face. If it weren’t for the malice etched across his features, he’d actually be exquisitely beautiful.

  He snarled, and the sound reverberated through my gut. Panic dug its claws into my chest.

  By the shadows sliding in his eyes, I knew, then, he was part demon.

  “What?” I spit out, horrified to realize that my legs were shaking. “I did what I was supposed to do.”

  He smelled like a pine forest. And something else, too. The scent of seared air after lightning strikes—the smell of a powerful, dark magic.

  His response was a hand up my skirt. He ripped the leather sheath off my thigh, and the force of it stung my skin.

  Releasing me, he took my only weapon from me.

  He glared at me for a moment, boxing me in to the stone wall. The wind toyed with his pale blond hair.

  I let out a slow, shaky breath. “Usually I save up-the-skirt action for a third date, but since you’ve got such a sparkling personality….”

  He simply pulled the cowl over his head, then pushed through the ancient wooden door. Stalking away from us, he disappeared into the shadows of the Institute’s grounds.

  Nice, friendly people here.

  I suppressed a shudder. I’d fought many monsters in my time, but Ruadan was different. He ignited a primal sense of fear, stirring instincts far older than language. If I stole from him, I’d have two choices. Find a way to kill him, or spend the rest of my life hiding from him.

  It would no longer just be Baleros haunting my nightmares. The Wraith would lurk there, too.

  Chapter 7

  When we crossed through the gateway, we remained in the open air. Under a canopy of stars, I walked over the cobbled ground by Aengus’s side. I had a general idea that two concentric, U-shaped walls formed the outermost fortifications of the Institute’s grounds, and that we were walking between them. But I didn’t have the full layout, yet.

  As we walked, ancient stone walls loomed over either side of the path. My headlamp bounced over dark, narrow windows in the towering stone around us. Moss and vines grew all around.

  I loosed a long breath, reviewing my situation. Ruadan had taken my knife, but it wasn’t the end of the world. Baleros had taught me to turn the world around me into weapons. Furniture, brooms, glass bottles—all sort of objects could be used to maim or kill. I’d never be truly without a weapon.

  As we walked, Aengus cast me a sharp glance. “You look ridiculous with that thing on your head.”

  “At least I can see.” I bit my lip. “So, that was an interesting test. How many of those creatures do you sacrifice for your trials? And how do people kill them if we’re not supposed to have weapons?”

  “The gorta?” Aengus slid his gaze to me. “We’ve only sacrificed one so far. You weren’t supposed to kill him. You were simply supposed to withstand the hunger and then walk on. You were the one who decided that the trial involved death. Now we have to get a new one, which will be a right pain in the arse.”

  Awkward. “Well, it involved death for all those recruits whose bones now decorate the moat. I wasn’t about to let myself become one of them.”

  “Has anyone ever told you that you have a ruthless side?”

  I flashed him my sweetest smile. Oh, you have no idea.

  “Where did you learn to fight?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “You look young for someone so skilled.”

  “I learned underground.” And that was all the answer he was getting.

  “I guess that explains the headlamp.”

  “Where are you taking me now?”

  “To your temporary lodgings.”

  “And after tonight, I could end up with you or Ruadan?” I may have injected a bit of venom into his name, but he had seriously annoyed me so far.

  “There are four other knights as well. I take it you don’t like Ruadan.”

  “I’d call him interpersonally challenged, what with all the shadows and glaring and busting through doors. Not to mention the inexplicable silence. And he stole my knife.”

  “I see. He’s got a personality problem, and yet you celebrated your invitation into our Institution by slaughtering our only gatekeeper.”

  “Are you still banging on about that?” I asked. “I thought we’d moved on.”

  “Eorleoch was four hundred eighty-three years old.”

  “The bones in his moat suggested he wasn’t exactly the nicest of gents, so if you’re trying to make me feel guilty, it won’t work.”

  “He had four children.”

  “Stop.”

  “And a pet rabbit.”

  I snarled at Aengus. “You should have been more specific about the task if you didn’t want me to kill him.”

  Still in the open air, he was leading me north. Silence hung heavily over the old fortress. We passed by several towers until, at last, Aengus paused under an archway. On either side of the archway’s openings, a portcullis was raised partway, giving it the appearance of a gaping mouth with iron teeth.

  As Aengus pulled a skeleton key from his pocket, I ran my fingertips over the rough stone walls. “Why do I feel like a prisoner here?” I asked.

  “Because you are. If you attempt to escape, we will sever your head with an iron ax.”

  “Nice.”

  The door creaked open into a dark stairwell lit by a few candles. Inside, the air was musty. Golden runes glowed on the walls, and while I couldn’t read the ancient fae language, I had a feeling that the runes provided a type of magical security. No one would be going in or out of the Tower unnoticed. Still, it was beautiful. Among the runes, honeysuckle grew all over the walls, and the ropes of plants seemed to move and shi
ft like giant snakes.

  I followed Aengus up several stories of crooked stairs.

  We crossed into a cramped stone hallway. Silvery light streamed in through the windows.

  “Hang on.” I needed to get my bearings. I peered out the window to my left. From here, I had a view of the Institute’s interior. A riot of vibrant wildflowers dappled long grasses beneath us. With this view, I confirmed my theory about the layout—we were standing within one of the U-shaped stone walls surrounding the Tower Green. And in the center of the Tower Green stood a pale, castle-like building with peaked turrets. Blooming flowers twined its ragstone walls. I thought it might be the oldest part of the Institute.

  “Come on,” said Aengus.

  “Just a sec.” I crossed to the other side. From that window, I could see the city of London spread out like a sea of twinkling jewels. Twenty-five years ago—when the four Horsemen had roamed the earth—this would have all been darkness. Apocalypse. Anarchy. And now, everything had returned like it once had been—except with the added horror of the spell-slayers.

  I’d once read that the Great Fire in 1666 had completely destroyed most of London. The seventeenth century architects had planned to build a new world—one with wide, modern boulevards and straight roads that actually made sense. While they were making their plans, London’s residents just went back and built everything the way it was, sticking to the crooked, winding, and completely nonsensical street patterns they’d been using forever. It was the same thing after the Anarchy. Everything just resumed the way it had been before the angelic apocalypse. Same bars, same food, same technology. Even the same brands and shops.

  “I won’t wait any longer.” Aengus had already moved on, and he stood before one of the doors farther down the hallway.

  I sighed, crossing to him. When I reached him, he was turning a key in the lock.

  “Are you going to tell me what happens next? What our next trial is?” I asked.