The Knights of the Faerie Queens, Part 5

The Shadow In the Trees

The Knights of the Faerie Queens is a dark fantasy serialized novel. Two fey, charged with keeping their queens and their Courts safe, must hunt down a savage monster—no matter what secrets, creatures, and curses stand in their way.

In Part 4, Kestrel returned to his queen, Seren, and told her what he’d found in the boundary lines clearing. Seren agreed to a meeting with the Shadow Court.

The moon was bright, the scent of moss and cold stone acrid in the cold air. Jasper sat atop one of the tallest granite formations that hovered over the Shadow Court. The sprawling buildings nestled around the nooks, runnels, and crevices of the giant tor that jutted from the dark oak forest like the balding skull of some long-dead giant. His ears twitched at the sound of a baby's cry. Jasper tilted his head, listening as the gentle soothing noises and soft melody of a father's voice filtered through the night air, hushing the baby.

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, feeling the gentle breeze on his face. On nights like tonight, when the moon was near full and the smell of woodsmoke was carried on the wind, he remembered the feeling of running free on the mountains above the forest, snow crunching under his paws and chill air ruffling his fur. Few fey got to experience anything like that feeling--to escape the smothering confines of the Deepwoods and breathe free air.

Climbing up here on the tor was the closest he would get for the rest of his lifetime, shackled by his views to the Queen of Shadows, the queen who was even now sleeping peacefully--or as peacefully as Desma would ever sleep--in her bed below, knowing her Knight would keep her safe.

She would resent their bond being seen as shackles. And so would he, tomorrow…when his head wasn't muddled by the full moon and the scent of starlight.

Jasper stood, balancing his feet on the natural steps of the rock formation, lifting his head and closing his eyes. He could feel the growing need in his gut--the need to shift, to run, to ravage and destroy. He imagined it as a solid thing, as a form that he could hold in his hands, contemplate, turn over, and then tuck away again. He was in command of himself, and he always would be.

Jasper opened his eyes as a thin, shrieking call pierced the night. Above him, wheeling so it looked only like a void against the stars, was a large winged shape. Jasper held his arm out, and the shape dove, resolving into a dark, hawk-like bird that closed enormous claws around his arm. The bird folded its wings, allowing its full weight to settle, and Jasper's arm dipped under the strain. He raised a hand slowly and scratched the side of the bird's head. It seemed to lean into the fond gesture, the golden eyes blinking closed for a moment.

"Well, and who are you, then?" Jasper murmured. "D'ya have something for me?"

The bird puffed out its chest and picked up one leg, showing him the white scroll wrapped around it and tied in place with lavender-colored thread. Jasper severed the thread with a fingernail and unfolded the message.

The Queen of the Star Court and her retinue will meet the Queen of the Shadow Court and her retinue tomorrow at the Standing Stones, at dusk.

Jasper chuckled and tucked the note into the pocket of his coat. "Tell him I got the message." He scratched the bird's head again.

The bird bobbed, then suddenly launched upward, the force of the motion shoving Jasper's arm downward. It wheeled above him, then sped off westward in the direction of the Star Court lands. Jasper watched it disappear through the treetops for a moment, then leaned down, supporting himself as his feet found the slick, small steps cut into the rock. Carefully, feeling his way in the dark lest he slip on lichen or moss, he crept down from the top of the formation, until he stepped down onto the tallest part of the tor. No buildings had been built up here, as there were no trees except a few scraggly oaks clinging to patches of soil that had accumulated in dips in the granite.

A rustling sound caught Jasper's ears, and he swiveled them towards the strange noise. It was out of place--different than the sound of the night breeze running unseen fingers through the leaves. As the wind shifted, he caught a new scent--old campfires and ash--and a growl rolled in the back of his throat.

"Caden," he said, without turning.

There was another rustle, and the soft thump of something landing on the tor behind him. Jasper turned.

Caden--shorter than him, and stocky--stood in front of a small stand of stunted oaks. His knees were still bent, and he looked like he was ready to run if needed, but not because he was afraid. His blond hair, pulled back from his face with a green band across his forehead, glimmered almost silver under the moonlight.

"Jasper." Caden grinned at him, his usual big smile, as if they’d only been parted for a day, rather than not having spoken to each other for the better part of a decade.

Jasper looked closer and saw the broken-glass edge beneath the cordial smile.

“Important business for the queen you must be doin’, sittin’ up here all by your lonesome,” Caden said, glancing around the top of the tor.

Jasper ignored the verbal jab, a comment on the last thing he’d said to Caden all those years ago. I have important business for the queen.

He didn’t bother asking Caden how he’d managed to get past the guards at the perimeter of the clearing—he already knew the Wildling had snuck among the treetops. Caden was greenfey, able to bend the plants to his will. The only reason Jasper had heard him was because Caden had wanted to be heard. He let the long silence draw itself out, until it became an almost tangible thing between them.

“What?” Caden finally demanded. “No words for your old friend? No asking after the others? No ‘it’s good to see you alive, Caden’?”

It was good to see him. But saying no to his old life meant saying no to all of it.

“Why are you here?” Jasper asked, his voice rasping as if he hadn’t used it for an age. He kept his tone light, hoping his words could convey what he could not.

The last vestige of mirth shuttered in Caden’s green eyes. “You know, I don’t know I even bothered,” he muttered, turning away.

Jasper caught his arm, suddenly desperate. The thick stitching of a patch on the sleeve of Caden’s tattered coat dug into his fingers. “Caden…”

Caden shrugged free. “Isayr warned me that the pack bond was gone. Replaced,” he corrected himself, shaking his head. “Should’ve listened to them.” But he didn’t disappear into the trees—he stood, half-turned away, his head cocked to the side as if waiting for a question.

“The monster in the woods,” Jasper said quietly. “Was the kill today one of yours? Have you lost any of the pack to it?”

A bitter smile curved Caden’s mouth. “Do you mean did we kill the fey, or that they had been one of us?” he asked sarcastically, then clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Business tomorrow, Jasper. I don’t want to repeat the tale twice.”

With one quick leap, he caught hold of a branch above his head, then swung himself into the crown of the tree.

Jasper stood still, ears cocked, but heard nothing except the wind rustling the leaves in the way that they should. The smell of campfire slowly faded.

And then, far away, came a thin, mournful howl.

The sound latched in Jasper’s chest, tugging at him, fraying the edge of the magic that held his oath to the Shadow Queen.

Jasper flung his head back and howled in answer, as the smell of campfire slowly faded to nothing.

Thank you for reading this installment of The Knights of the Faerie Queens!