The Knights of the Faerie Queens, Part 2

The Corpse

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 1, Kestrel awoke from a nightmare to discover that an intruder had invaded his Court’s lands. He met the Shadow Knight, Jasper, at the boundary line, as they both searched for the intruder.

Kestrel froze, staring down at the body, taking in every detail that he could.

The fey was lying on their face, body draped across the boundary line. Blood puddled under the upper body, trickling into the creek with a steady drip that he could hear now that he and Jasper had stopped moving. Nothing about the draped clothing gave him any indication as to gender or Court, and their long hair lay swept across the ground, pale and almost seeming to glitter in the moonlight.

Jasper crouched down and grasped the body by the shoulders, turning it. The werewolf's movements were slow, uncertain. He gently swept the hair away from the face, revealing fine-boned features that Kestrel didn't recognize.

Jasper sighed. "Not one of ours." He looked up at Kestrel.

Kestrel shook his head. "A wildling, then?"

Jasper shrugged. "That would require finding a Wildling to ask."

Which would be an almost impossible task. The wildlings--a band of werewolves and fey who refused to swear allegiance to either Court--were notoriously difficult to track. They lived in the Deepwoods, the forest outside Court boundaries, tatter-coated renegades who had little regard for anyone outside their band. And even if they could be found, Kestrel doubted the odds of getting any answers would be less than the odds of getting a knife to his heart.

Jasper gently turned the body's head, revealing a messy gap in the throat, clotting blood still glistening wetly on the shreds of flesh that barely covered the knobs of spine.

"Could this be a werewolf's work?" Kestrel asked.

Jasper's shoulders drew up around his jaw. "There are more things with teeth and claws in these woods than just werewolves."

This was true. Kestrel rubbed his upper left arm, where even through the fabric of his shirt he could feel the rigid scars left by an earth elemental that had had teeth and claws of granite. "But could it?"

"You know it could have, as well as I do," Jasper snapped.

Kestrel nodded. This was also true. Surely Jasper could smell the faint musk in the air--the dark, rich scent of a werewolf--but he wouldn't push the subject. If the Shadow Knight wanted to hide something, that was his business.

"This is the fourth such killing on the Shadow Court's lands in this month," Jasper said.

Kestrel looked up at him sharply. Jasper wasn't looking at him--instead, the werewolf was gently stroking the hair of the fallen fey, settling it on their shoulders as if preparing them for burial. Why had he shared that information? If the Queen of the Star Court was like Seren, she wouldn't want anything like that getting out.

Was he hoping to deflect from the question about a werewolf kill?

"This makes the Star Court's second," Kestrel said.

Jasper nodded, his dark eyes solemn. "Do you remember anything of the warning that brought you here?"

Kestrel frowned, trying to remember. The nightmare was ragged. Tattered shreds of memory that were already fading at the edges. A scream. The sound of pounding feet, rapidly catching up to him. An impact, painless, and a dizzying turn of the sky and the pine branches overhead. Then—he’d sat up, in his own bed. Kestrel shook his head. “Only pieces. You?"

Jasper huffed out a sigh. “The scent of blood and the sound of a scream.”

Interesting. If he was telling the truth, then Kestrel had gotten more of the warning nightmare than Jasper had. Perhaps the fey had been on Star Court land when they had first been attacked.

Jasper trailed a finger against the fallen fey's cheek. "They're a werewolf. Not of my old pack, though--I don't recognize them. We should honor them. Together," Jasper said quietly.

Kestrel looked up at the tall werewolf through the strands of hair that had fallen in his eyes, waiting. If Jasper was suggesting what Kestrel thought...

"All of us. Both Courts, and the queens," Jasper confirmed. "We should meet at the Standing Stones. Bury them there."

"Would your Queen approve of you scheduling a meeting for her?" Kestrel asked, rising to his feet. He slipped his dagger back into the sheath.

Jasper's lips twitched into a smile. "Probably not, but I think it's important the Courts meet and discuss what's happening. Now that we know that there have been multiple killings in each land."

"I'll talk to Seren," Kestrel said. "And I'll send a messenger if she agrees."

"I suppose that's all I can ask."

Kestrel stood and headed back for the shadowed line of trees, seeking the darker shades that would give him enough power to teleport. He glanced towards the east. The sky was lit with the glow that heralded dawn. He had to get back to the Court before the sun came up.

As he stepped into the shadow, he turned back toward the meadow. Jasper was still crouched at the body, settling hair and clothes of the dead fey, his crouched posture reverent. If they were a werewolf, his reverence--and his reluctance to speak about it earlier--made sense. But did he truly not know the dead werewolf? Kestrel hadn't thought there were that many in the Deepwoods--though his experience was limited. He'd been a Court fey since he'd been a child, longer than Jasper had been.

It bothered Kestrel that he didn't know these things, but he had no more time to observe, for the shadow embraced him, washing over his vision as it carried him back to his Court.

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