He laughs and blinks back some tears as the music starts. “Oh, Víl?, I never thought I would see this day. They came and took you. We hadn’t seen you in ages, and then when you came back… You were like that – feral and stuck. I was heartbroken for myself, heartbroken for your mother, and for you. I didn’t think anyone would want you, and I didn’t want you to be alone forever. When Kenric offered for you, I wasn’t sure what to think, but to see you now, like this… It’s a miracle.”
We dance for a while before Kenric interrupts, and the symbolic hand-off happens. I bury my face in the smell of the Old Forest and sigh happily.
The song ends, and Kenric leads me off the dance floor, “So… you and Nieven?”
I nod, “Ancient history. Friends before and friends now.” “How ancient?” “About six hundred and fifty years ancient.” “Did you love him?”
I shake my head. “It was never anything like that.”
I see Kenric thinking this over. “Anyone else here I should know about?”
I sigh heavily, not really wanting to explain, but knowing that I must. “Mirthal, Keryth, Larrel, Saleh, and Revalor.”
Kenric gives me a look. “You invited all your ex-lovers to your wedding?”
I shake my head again. “Not like you think. They split us up into groups of sixteen. That was our war band, and each war band was assigned a patrol area. We were terrified, especially in the early stages. No one knew how to fight those things. It took us a while to figure out we had to take their heads. The death rates were quite high. We’d lose one or two a week, sometimes more. We were friends who were alone in the dark, hunted by nightmares, and afraid we were about to die. It was comforting not to be alone for a little while. There wasn’t anyone else around for miles, so we comforted each other. It helped keep us alive.”
Kenric scrubs his face with his hand. “Would you now?”
I shake my head. “No. We’re all long past that. Too many bad memories.”
Kenric looks across the room at Larrel, where she’s chatting with Nieven and Taeryl. “You and Larrel, huh? I didn’t realize your tastes ran that way.”
I shrug. “They usually don’t. Larrel was an exception. That night was an exception.”
I grimace at the memory. “Gods, that was a terrible night. We had just fought off some multi-headed creatures. We lost six of our war band before we figured out that you had to take all three heads to kill those cursed things. We were all sitting around—either crying or puking or both—when we got back to camp that morning. Their bites poisoned us, causing us to vomit and hallucinate. I woke up, suffocated by a panic attack, and Larrel was right there beside me. We were all pretty sure we’d probably be dead that night when those things attacked again. With so many of us gone and no time to replace them, we didn’t think we’d make it.
I feel his arm snake around my waist and pull me close. I lean into him, and he shifts slightly to accommodate me. “You survived. I understand it now. Thank you for telling me. Now, let’s talk about happier things.”
I offer him a small smile. “I have something to do when the toasting bowl comes around.”
He nods. “Do what you need to, but tell me where you got the idea for all of this.”
I smile at him. “From the way you smell to me and how you said I smell to you.” “Hmmm… Sweet grass, sunshine, moss, and oak leaves, wasn’t it?”
I nod. “Just like the Old Forest. That’s one of my favorite places. It’s always been that way, even when I was a child. I would get into trouble for sneaking out to dance with the pixies.”
“What are pixies?” “They’re tiny, maybe the size of your hand. They have wings and a nasty poison bite if you make them angry.”
Just then, the toasting bowl arrives. Kenric makes his toast and hands me the cup. I make my toast, but stop the server before they can take the bowl on. I pull out my list of names and, with a tendril of magic, reduce it to ash. I dip the cup back into the bowl. “For all who didn’t survive the war.”
I pour out most of what’s in the cup. “And for all who did, Nai cuitalm? anda vanwa cothlma.”
I toss the rest of it back, and everyone who fought in the war joins me.
The room falls silent for a moment, and all the candles flicker briefly. The wine I just poured disappears. The server carefully steps around that spot, takes the bowl, and keeps going. Kenric looks at me with wide eyes. “What just happened?”
I smile and say, “My other friends came. They took the wine and blessed us.”
I can’t see them, but I can feel their presence for a moment before they leave. The chatter and conversations pick up again. “What’s this about pixies?”
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“They usually come out at night. They live out in the Old Forest, often under flowers, but sometimes under other plants. They love to dance in the moonlight, so I’d sneak out to dance with them. They showed me how to find the little valley where you first marked me. If we’d stayed a bit longer, you might have met some of them.”
I give him a mischievous look. “They might even have been watching you mark me."
He laughs. “If they were, I hope they learned a few things."
I smirk. “I know that I did." “And what exactly did you learn?"
My smirk grows. “I learned that you’re insatiable. You’re very focused on your goals. I learned that I can tempt you. I learned that you truly do care for me. I learned that you are just as delicious as you look and twice as decadent as any dessert.”
I hear his growling hum and lean into him. “One of these days, you can tell me all about the war. I know you have nightmares, and sometimes it helps to talk about them.”
I nod. “It might help to let you explore the archives and see some of the records. If you can view those things, you’ll understand better.”
He’s practically purring with contentment. “I can’t wait to get you out of here and alone. I have that big bed, the silk sheets, and room service all arranged. Neither of us is going to leave it for at least a week. I can check out your archives after that."
True to his word, we didn’t leave that room for an entire week. When we finally did go out the door, I was barely able to walk. Kenric has been a blessing in many ways.
The calm he brings helps with the nightmares, and I sleep through the night most nights now. Elisen took Kenric to the archives and showed him the images we had captured of the things we’d been fighting. Kenric says that at least by going to his home, we’ll be farther away from those things. Most of those things can’t cross running water, so I doubt they can cross an ocean. He can’t believe that we managed to hold them off and seal the border. He’s terribly impressed that we didn’t all run away screaming from the things. I won’t deny that there were times when I wanted to, when all of us did, but the thought of them getting a hold of our families made us stand our ground.
The ship is being loaded, and we’re getting ready to leave. The strange sounds are a constant problem. I become feral because any unfamiliar noise makes me think I’m about to be attacked. My second row of teeth comes out, my pupils turn to slits, and the extra knuckles with claws on my hands and feet extend. My armor can hide it if you don’t look too closely, but I can’t wear that here. I have to wear clothes, so it’s far too obvious that I’m feral. Feral Fey scare everyone, even other Fey, and the smell of their fear, combined with the unfamiliar noises, might be enough for me to go full hunter mode.
Too often, during the war, a strange noise signaled an attack from some new nightmare. Today, while we were at the docks, a cry from a sea bird I’ve never heard before caused me to shift. Kenric is incredibly patient with me, even though I feel terrible about it, as if I’m somehow letting him down. He says that all of this is in my head, and he’s not the slightest bit distressed by it, and that he has made plans to handle it while we are at sea. Feral isn’t quite as bad, since I can hide it from a distance or if someone doesn’t get a good look.
With my head down and my hands and feet hidden, I can almost pass as normal. Hunter mode is worse because there’s virtually no hiding that. I can’t speak properly since the second row of teeth comes out. I don’t even move the same due to all the changes to my body. I’m stronger, faster, and with a gift like mine, my magic is almost palpable when I am fully shifted. If you look at how humans depict their monsters and demons, it seems like a Fey in a complete hunter shift.
If they saw me like this, they’d be afraid, and I’d rather not be tossed overboard by the crew. He says that once I get to his home, it will be better. His response is to grin at me and ask how much food and sex I need to revert from my feral state. Gods above! I adore that man. Being on the ship itself is terrible. I am sick constantly. Mostly, I sit on the cabin floor with a bucket. Miserable as I am, I often become feral. This sickness, which he swears will pass eventually, combined with all the strange sounds, causes frequent partial shifts into hunter mode.
He says that if I can get better control of being feral, he can take me up to the deck, and the breeze will help settle my stomach. I don’t want to upset the crew this far from land, so I remain in the cabin with my bucket, waiting for the creaking wood, slapping sails, screeching sea birds, and the sailors’ voices to become familiar enough not to trigger my reflexive shifts. I think the gods are punishing me for some sin. He is patient with all this and never becomes frustrated with me, even though I am pretty frustrated with myself.
We are far removed from those dangers. If they can't cross the tiniest bubbling stream, they definitely can't cross an ocean, so they aren't here. I keep telling myself, again and again, that I am safe. Kenric reassures me that I am safe. Gradually, I get used to the sounds of the ship, the sailors, and the birds nesting in the rigging. Slowly, my stomach settles, and eventually Kenric resumes our nightly activities. This also helps me stay calm. Finally, after three days of not being feral, he takes me on deck.
It’s dusk, just about to become night, and it's spectacular. The moons aren’t up yet. The stars look like gems scattered across the black velvet sky, and the sea glows with a shimmering, blue-green hue. Fish swim near the ship, and every so often, they leap out and splash back into the water, creating bursts of light. Kenric is there with Captain Mabry.
The captain looks at me and says, “I see you're finally past your sea sickness. I was starting to wonder about you. Most get past it, but not everyone does.”
Kenric grins, “I knew it would pass eventually.”
I lean over the railing, watching the fish in awe. I look up at Kenric. “It’s beautiful.”
He laughs, “Only about half as beautiful as you.”
As I watch the fish, I notice something larger moving toward the surface. I can’t tell what it is, but it’s the biggest living thing I’ve ever seen. I’m not even sure how to name this giant of the deep. I catch sight of a massive eye as the creature rolls onto its side to look back at me. The eye is so big that I could fit Kenric into the slotted pupil alone, with room to spare. I spool out a tendril of magic, questioning, and the creature rolls more, offering up a gigantic flipper.
I hear low vocalizations, whistling, and chirping noises coming from it, so I start to sing back.
One of the men elbows another and says, “She's singing to the leviathan.”
I can feel this leviathan through the tendril of my magic, and it’s asking if we’d like a tow. It seems this creature is heading in our direction for a while. It wants me to sing to it some more and is willing to trade a tow for songs. I whisper this to Kenric, who nods but warns not to go too fast. The leviathan says it will tell others of its kind about my songs. I suggest that it visit my home and try its luck hunting there.
I start singing again, and the ship gradually speeds up. We spend quite a bit of time on deck that night as I exchange songs with the Leviathan. When he’s ready to turn and follow a different current, I pull my tendril of magic back and sing him a farewell song. It was one of the most incredible experiences I’ve ever had. The sailors are now in awe of me because the Leviathans are known to sometimes break ships. They’ve gone from seeing a woman on board as an ill omen to considering me a good luck charm.
- Who will rise from the ashes and who will fall into oblivion?