The Knights of the Faerie Queens, Part 7

The Wildling

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 6, the Courts arrived at the Standing Stones, and Jasper seemed interested in something hidden on one of the Stones.

The two Courts eyed each other across the stream that cut the clearing down the middle, tension thicker than the fog that the waterfall kicked up. Kestrel stood beside Seren at the pavilion edge, arms tucked behind his back.

Jasper stood at the right hand of a small woman, shorter than him by head, shoulders, and half the werewolf's ribcage. Despite her small stature, she wore a full suit of armor inlaid with gold in swirling patterns, her helmet tucked under her arm and a sword sheathed at her side. Next to her--weaponless and armorless--Jasper looked like less of a threat. A dozen fey, also wearing armor and carrying weapons, stood arrayed behind them, packs on their backs as if they were marching for war.

Seren was the first to speak. “You look well, sister.”

“As do you.” Desmda gave Kestrel a brief glance, then turned to her Court. “We’ll set up here, across from my sister.”

The fey nodded and unstrapped their packs, beginning to unpack a pavilion that was similar to Seren’s, but the cloth was mottled and dappled in what Kestrel assumed were various shadowy shades, and the tent poles holding the fabric up were enormous spears rather than plain wooden poles.

Jasper joined Kestrel to where he stood to the side, both Knights standing side by side but for the stream between them.

“Is your Court attempting to compensate for something?” Kestrel said softly.

Jasper snorted, and a quick sideways glance confirmed that he was struggling to hold back a smile.

“So the Shadow Court does encourage a sense of humor,” Kestrel continued. “I was beginning to wonder.”

“I could say the same to you,” Jasper quipped back.

Within a few quick moments, the Shadow Court pavilion was up, and the two queens took their places, the stream at their feet. For a moment they faced each other without saying a word—then, they both glanced down. Kestrel heard Seren murmur a few words under her breath—by the tone, he knew them to be arcane. The ground beside her stirred, and split. A rush of petrichor and the smell of green growing things wafted upward, and tree roots stretched upward, twining and forming into a sort of throne, their dark brown bark mottled with moss and damp patches of earth. As Seren took her place, an earthworm squirmed free of the earth, dropping into her lap. Seren flicked it aside.

Kestrel followed the earthworm’s path with his eyes and saw it dissolve into ash in mid-air, feeling a quick burst of surprise before tamping it down so it wouldn’t show on his face. There was always a cost to magic—didn’t he know that, well enough—but rarely had he seen Seren use her magic so carelessly, nor would she usually discard the given life so easily, mere insect or not.

Kestrel glanced across the stream and saw that Desma had also completed a throne, this one of rock. That must be the reason for Seren's carelessness--she didn't want to seem weak in front of her sister.

Another long moment of silence drew out, and Kestrel realized he could no longer hear the buzzing of insects around the aspen clearing. Hold both queens used enough magic that it had killed all of the insects in the area? He pulled in a sharp breath, trying not to make a sound and call attention to himself. Both of them were being careless with their magic.

“So.” Desma finally spoke. “My Knight seemed to think it was a good idea that we should meet.”

Seren’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “If it was your Knight’s idea, sister, I think perhaps you should be the one to lead.”

Desma arched an eyebrow. “An unusual stance from you.”

Seren shrugged. “I could withdraw that, if it made you too uncomfortable.”

“And miss the chance of my sister listening?” Desma broke into a wide grin.

The tension in the air between the two Courts eased a little, and Kestrel glanced over at Jasper. The werewolf winked, as if to say, "See? Humor." Kestrel chuckled and shook his head.

“I’m given to understand you’ve had several mysterious killings in your Court lands as well,” Desma said.

Seren sighed and nodded.

“And no one from your Court is responsible.”

“I might ask you the same,” Seren pointed out.

Desma shook her head. “There has been a thorough investigation.”

Kestrel listened intently as Desma described the circumstances under which the bodies had been found—at the edge of the woods of their land--some under the very branches of the guardian holly trees--bloodied, with their throats cut or their heads torn off. It sounded quite similar to the bodies from the Star Court. Most of the bodies found so far had been recognizable as fey from the Courts--only the most recent one that he and Jasper had both found had been a Wildling.

A rustle in the woods caught his ears. Across the stream, Jasper raised his head, both ears swiveling to the side. Kestrel glanced in that direction, but could see nothing through the thick aspens. Maybe the animals that had been scared off by the fey intrusion had finally felt comfortable to come home.

“And what—“ said a new, unfamiliar voice—“are you going to do about the deaths of the Wildlings?"

Kestrel spun, hand going to the hilt of his knife as he got between Seren and the speaker.

The newcomer crouched dramatically on one of the large rocks in the middle of the stream. As he stood, the hem of his tattered coat dripped from where it had dipped into the stream. Kestrel frowned as he studied him. There was nothing distinct about the stockily-built fey--no indication as to if he might be a starborn like Kestrel himself, or if he had any other special magics like some fey did. But he must have something--how else would he have appeared out of nowhere like that? Someone would have seen him, with this many sets of eyes about.

Kestrel glanced over at Jasper.

Jasper's jaw tensed, and he sighed loudly. He didn't look like he was fearful, nor was he stepping between Desma and the newcomer. His hands, formerly tucked behind his back, now hung loose as his sides, fingers clenched.

Did Jasper know this Wildling?

Desma's annoyed sigh cut through the tension. "Why are you here, Caden?"

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