The Monster's in the Details

by Ren Ryder

  “This Samhain, it is my onus, my responsibility, to crown our Seven Year King, and shirk it I shall not! For the prosperity of our peoples, I will host the most glorious, most challenging of trials so only the best amongst us may rise. In the name of all our peoples, our Otherworld, I, Oberon, proclaim it shall be so!”

  There was scattered applause, and more cheering.

  I myself was most interested in the delectable foods on display. My mouth was a parched desert and my stomach a clenched stone. I couldn’t remember feeling more hungry, ever. The recent exertion only made it worse, my muscles burned like they’d been doused in acid.

  “Champions, step forward and identify yourselves so that you can be recognized and marked, and so that you might collect the gifts bestowed upon you by any well-meaning patrons. All gifts must be freely given and accepted, free of lien and prepared specially for the recipient. As is tradition, patrons may choose a single champion to bestow a gift.”

  The platform Oberon stood upon widened and broadened dramatically, then grew a set of stairs that several champions, puffed up with pride, climbed straight away.

  My feet moved without thought.

  Struck by deep hunger pains, I shoved a heel of soft, warm bread into my mouth and washed it down with a mug of berry-wine before I was even aware I’d moved towards the feasting table. I snatched a slice of roast meat and swallowed without chewing. Fruits and steaming sweet pies disappeared into my stomach.

  And still, I could eat more.

  “I would tell you it’s not strictly, you know, safe for humans to eat food from the Otherworld, but well~”

  I snorted and continued stuffing myself under Bell’s reproachful eyes. Apparently she’d been looking to get more of a reaction out of me.

  In the corner of my eye I watched as pixies and wild birds carried gifts of all sorts to the champions ascending to the podium’s zenith. Full sets of armor, mirror-bright shields, gleaming helms, shining bracers, gallant spears, jewel-encrusted swords, and less recognizable items of value were deposited into eager hands.

  Bell tugged so hard on my hair that a tuft of it came loose into her hands.

  “Hey, what gives?!”

  “Declare yourself a champion! And make it snappy!” Bell commanded.

  “In what world am I considered a champion of anything?” I shot back. “Plus, I seem to be doing far too much of your bidding with far too little explanation since I woke up. That, and I’m hungry. Like, really hungry. Haven’t eaten in a year-and-a-day hungry.”

  I patted my stomach, which felt near empty even though I’d just finished stuffing it with as much food as I could get my hands on.

  Bell flew right up in my face so I could see every bit of seriousness in her eyes. “Look, you have to trust me. Declare yourself, Kal. Do it now, before it’s too late.”

  This is all so very out of character for Bell.

  “Alright, but I do this under firm protest. And I want an explanation.”

  “Deal!” Bell stuck out her hand, and I extended my pinky finger with some reluctance for her to shake.

  I ran to catch up to the last champion in line so I could ascend the stairway. He was a big fellow, I would have mistook him for an ogre if I hadn’t caught a glimpse of his human features from his side profile. The man’s flame-red hair cascaded to his shoulders, it made him look like he was on fire.

  He wore simple tanned breeches and a bulky light-blue overshirt, but was otherwise covered in natural stone jewelry. Every finger sported a shiny ring, and every bit of his muscular forearms were covered with woven crystal bracelets. He had so many layered necklaces that I could hardly see his skin.

  “Psst,” I whispered. “Hey, buddy, you have any idea what this is all about?”

  The man cast his eyes behind himself to look at me. They were deep, dark pools of emerald green. “A great joke, were I in the mood for jokes. What name do you go by? I’m called Fin, Fin Macool.”

  I stuck out my arm, but let my hand drop when the motion wasn’t mirrored by Fin.

  Big guy must not be a fan of handshakes.

  “It’s Kal,” I answered.

  “Kal, we mustn’t be seen fraternizing, or else they’ll get suspicious. We’re destined to compete against one another, after all.”

  “Right. Well—” I cut myself off as we crested the stairwell and came to the top the podium’s main landing.

  That’s odd.

  It came late, but I realized I’d climbed the stairs without effort or any lingering pain.

  We lined up at the back amongst, near as I could guess, around a hundred or so others. And as far as I could see, more than half the champions looked human. Now, that was strange, considering the stakes. Would the fair folk accept a human king, or were the remaining fae champions that sure of winning?

  “Do any more wish to step forward and name themselves champions of this, of our Otherworld?” Oberon waited a beat, then, “No? Then let it be known that each of our champions shall bear a mark upon their neck representing their courage and sacrifice.”

  “Now, be marked!” Oberon commanded.

  My skin tingled. I craned my neck to the right to see black smoke rising off the tender skin near my jugular. Sharp pain bolted from my neck, through my body, to my heart.

  I boiled with rage. “What the heck was that for? What is this, a cattle brand?!”

  Oberon’s attention swept over the silent mass of champions until he spotted me. His attention seemed riveted on me, more so than one might expect from a simple outburst.

  “The Seven Year King shall be marked so, as tradition demands. I have no say in the matter, and neither do you, now that you have named yourself champion for all this court to see.”

  The king drew a wire-wrapped, twisted birch wand from his belt and swept it through the air. Where the wand traveled, it left an afterglow of light that remained fixed in the air for some time.

  "Champions one and all will undergo three trials to prove themselves worthy of the Seven Year King’s mantle. Until these trials are complete, the feast shall continue and the revelry will not stop!”

  There were quite a few cheers at this announcement, and the noise didn’t die down until Oberon raised his hands in a call for silence.

  “Beginning in the Whitewood at the Twilit Boundary, each champion must trek across Nightside, through Dayside, and arrive again in this very spot without succumbing to the Otherworld’s inherent dangers. It is a weak kingship indeed, to possess naught but a common knowledge of the Otherworld. This walkabout is the bare minimum required of a king candidate, to be incapable of completing this trial shows too great a failing.

  “That is all. Champions shall have a short respite to gather themselves and partake in the festivities until they are called to begin their journeys.”

  The king began striding purposefully towards the stairway Fin and I stood beside. As Oberon passed, champions kneeled in respect. I joined as my row followed suit, and, coincidentally, it seemed, Oberon passed right next to me. He stopped, then leaned down to speak directly into my ear.

  “So you think with a little legitimacy you can stay alive? Preposterous. Titania stayed my hand once, but do not count yourself so lucky that such a miracle will happen again. It was quite industrious of you, this idea to use Samhain and our traditions to your advantage,” Oberon glanced at Bell as he said this last, and she shrunk into herself at the attention, “however foolish. Know that regardless of the outcome, I shall not ever recognize a queen’s bastard, and neither may my Titania. So, you see, you have no choice but to rely on your own strength for survival, pitiful slim though your chances may be.”

  The king examined me thoroughly from top to bottom, then dismissed me as he stepped a single step beyond me, pretending to survey the crowd below. “Such a pity, to be bereft of a single patron. But that is the natural outcome of your late, unexpected arrival. How poor a showing might you give without the benefit of a single gift? Do strive not to disappoint my queen,” and
here the king smiled wide, exposing needle-sharp teeth, “it will make your failure that much sweeter.”

  Oberon resumed walking as if there had been no deeper reason for his delay. Chills ran up and down my spine, as Oberon revealed sharp, killing intent and directed it right at me. I tried to hide my body’s reaction to it by crossing my arms and shifting my feet, but the small, pleased smile Oberon left me with as he descended the stairway and out of view left no question as to whether he noticed.

  “It will make your failure that much sweeter~” Bell mocked. “Oooh, how scary!”

  I laughed. “You seemed scared enough, earlier.”

  “Was not! Take that back!” Bell started swiping at me with her dainty, clawed hands.

  Before she drew blood, I raised my hands in surrender. “Alright, sure, whatever you say, I take it back— you’re the bravest.”

  Bell tilted her chin back to look down her nose at me. “That’s right. And don’t you forget it.”

  “Oh, I won’t. Now, can we get to the important bit of explaining what we’re doing here, and what that was all about?”

  Most of the champions scattered after Oberon left the platform, there were only a handful loitering like I was. I noticed too late that Fin was gone. I would have liked to talk to him again, if only to gather more information.

  “Well, that’s a toughie…” Bell trailed off.

  “I want to know what this Seven Year King thing is all about. Well, don’t you know?”

  Bell’s eyes crossed. “Know… what exactly?”

  “Stop being deliberately obtuse. You promised me an explanation, remember? We made a deal. Now honor it.”

  Bell rolled her shoulders back and put on a more serious face. “Ugh, fine. I’ll answer any questions you have that I know the answers to.”

  “What’s the point of these trials, why am I participating, and why was it so important I be here for this Samhain, and what was Oberon talking about when he confronted me?”

  Bell took a deep breath before answering my questions. “To crown a king, duh. Naming yourself a champion and participating yourself keeps you off the chopping block. When you used the token Titania gave you, Oberon was there too— and he wasn’t happy. He wanted to kill you. Well, he actually tried to, but Titania stopped him. I had to make the deal on your behalf with the merrow to save your life, and that solved the immediate problem. The more overarching problem, that’s your torch to carry— one of the few ways I could think of was for you to gain some legitimacy in the Otherworld so Oberon and his cronies won’t be able to kill you outright.”

  I mulled over Bell’s words. It was a lot to process, and that didn’t include my personal baggage, which hung over my head like a sword of Damocles. I didn’t even want to think about—

  I didn’t have the luxury of complaining about my current situation, seeing as it looked like Bell had buried her self-interest to see me survive to this point. Not that I felt an immense gratitude for my continued survival, considering, but I had to appreciate what was pretty much a selfless act compared to the Bell I remembered.

  “Okay. I think I understand the general situation, maybe. I dunno.” I sighed and cast a dull look across the glade.

  For some reason, Bell looked unsatisfied by my response. She put her hands on her hips and frowned at me from her perch on my left shoulder. Then she stomped, hard, on the mass of scars there.

  It didn’t hurt, not really, but she didn’t have to know that. “Ow. What was that for?”

  “For being a poop. Now, let’s go!”

  “Go? Go where?”

  “Ugh, have you always been so full of questions?! If you really have to know, we’re off to see Daddy.”

  I gulped. “Daddy? You mean Lord Eurius, Lord of the East and Herald of Storms?”

  “That’s the one,” Bell said, annoyance clear in her voice. “Oh and by the way, he’ll probably hold you personally responsible for stealing me away, so brace yourself.”

  Remembering the powerful storm that had caused our paths to cross in New London, I shivered. “Great.”

  Chapter Three

  Lord Eurius, Herald of Storms and Lord of the East.

  Lord Eurius’s aura was deep quicksilver in color, with silver traceries like veins that fed into the air near him like he was an extension of the wind itself. He was clad in flowing silks that moved about in a wind of their own making. The Lord’s hair was liquid sapphire and his skin an ashy gray, a stark contrast to Bell’s green-tinged features. Tiny storm clouds orbited around his body like celestial bodies, and they turned dark and ominous upon seeing me.

  I swallowed hard over my unease.

  “So this is the scum that took my darling Bell hostage? You dare to present yourself before me?!”

  “Kal didn’t do anything! I left by my own will!” Bell argued.

  Lord Eurius shook his finger at me. “This miscreant is to blame! We would never have been separated were it not for his existence! Satisfaction will be mine,” he promised.

  “Daddy, you can’t hurt him! He’s a champion!”

  “He is no such thing— far from it!” Lord Eurius said.

  I had to come to terms with the sylph lord’s tiny figure, because for all his titles and obvious power, he was maybe two-three times Bell’s size.

  I motioned to the branded rune on my neck. “Uh, I’m sure I don’t disagree with you, Lord Eurius sir, but I do have this mark proving I am one,” I said, shrugging.

  Lord Eurius turned to speak to his daughter. “Be that as it may, his station or lack thereof has nothing to do with you, my daughter!”

  Ignoring the fact that he was in the throes of wrath, Bell stuck her tongue out at her father. “Where Kal goes, I go! We’re inseparable, so get used to it,” Bell said, looking quite pleased with herself.

  I groaned.

  Here we go.

  Lord Eurius was fuming. “You remember not your place! All sylphs are my precious children. You will return to my side, Bell. I will not allow this disrespect to stand.”

  I know he’s powerful and scary and all, but this guy’s got some issues.

  Without warning, Bell lifted up the shredded remains of my shirt to expose the sigil in the center of my chest. “You can’t, see? We have a contract! He’s my contractor!”

  His aura crackled and shook with thunder and lightning. “If I turn this piece of trash into a pile of ash, the bond between you two will be severed, will it not?”

  That made a disturbing amount of sense.

  “That is true! But!” Bell said.

  “But what? This is where you’re supposed to say something convincing,” I whispered harshly.

  “You try!” Bell said.

  I rubbed my forehead. “Wise Lord, surely you see the benefit in determining my worth before making your decision to kill me or not.”

  “I see no benefit to me in doing so,” Eurius countered.

  “Well, then you recognize Bell’s worth, surely?” I countered back.

  “I recognize her potential,” Lord Eurius muttered.

  I grabbed hold of the loose thread presented by his response and pulled. “Then, her decision to become my familiar must hold some weight with you.”

  “It may, supposing…” Eurius trailed off, indecisive for the first time.

  I ran with that thought. “Then if Bell proves her decision to become my familiar wasn’t a mistake, it would reason she meant you no disrespect, in fact she might’ve even meant to add honor to your name and your family,” I said, gripping my hands together tight until they turned white to hide my uncertainty, “and these trials for the Seven Year King may hold the key,” I finished, then waited.

  “The Seven Year King you say.” Malice seeped into the air around us and the sylph lord’s features lit up with glee.

  Lord Eurius caressed his chin in his hand. “I will allow it— this farce of a champion seeking the crown of the Seven Year King. May you discover the error of your ways before we next meet, Bell. To you
, miscreant, I wish you the least of luck.”

  And Lord Eurius, Herald of Storms and Lord of the East called up a great wind to carry him away. Where he was off to, I was unsure, but I was certain he didn’t have my best interests in mind.

  I’d been holding my breath for the deciding moments, and I hadn’t noticed. I released the air from my lungs in a great gasp.

  Bell clapped her hands. “Well, that was a piece of cake. Speaking of, let’s get some grub. I’m starving, and I haven’t had spirit food in too long. Not as delicious as your blood, but mmm-yummy.”

  Bell led us back over to the glade, where the feast was still going strong. The dining table was full to bursting with steaming food and chilled drinks of all kinds. If I hadn’t taken a huge dent out of it myself, I would’ve figured the spread was untouched.

  Bell’s words stuck with me. “I’m sorry. Did you say… spirit food?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “So not, like, real food?” I clarified.

  “Oh, it’s real enough. C’mon, eat up! You were way more into it before!”

  Bell grabbed a handful of bright red berries and shoved them into my mouth. Reluctant, I chewed, savored the taste, then swallowed. Real food or not, that was good stuff.

  “Some of my brothers and sisters think it’s funny to trick wayward humans into eating an apple or taking a small sip from a drink, since, if they survive the poisoning of their spirit, then they can’t return to the land of the living after, barring some sort of miracle that is.”

  I shook my head side to side. “How am I… not surprised, not one bit.”

  “I’m sure there’s nothing to worry about. If you ever carried any human taint at all, I bet you’re clean as a whistle now! Wow, I wonder if that changes the flavor. Actually, do you think I can have a taste?” Bell licked her lips and stared at me like an all-you-can-eat buffet.

  “I thought you were looking forward to a home-cooked meal or whatever? Go on, eat up!” I said with false enthusiasm.

  Bell rubbed her hands together. “Please?! C’mon!”