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M cColl

He’s a fae. A fae. One of them. The enemy! I don’t care that he helped me escape.

Was it all a trick to get me to free him? To…what? Why did he want to escape? Who is he? One thing is for certain: he’s been lying to me. He isn’t a smithy or a mercenary. He can’t be. He’s one of them.

My enemy!

There is screaming. It takes me a few moments to realize that it is me. I am the one screaming.

Alaric – if that is even his name – is saying something to placate me.

I don’t care what it is. I need to get away from him.

As far away from here as possible. I punch him as hard as I can.

That’s the one positive thing about having so many brothers: it taught me to rough and tumble even though I am older than they are.

I catch him square in the nose, and he lets me go, his eyes widening in shock. Blood runs from both of his nostrils. Good! I take the opportunity and jump to my feet. I stop just short of what I know is the barrier.

My memory of colliding with the magical dome comes crashing back. The pain…the crunch of my bones.

I look down, seeing blood on my dress. I don’t feel pain. Am I hurt? Is it the adrenaline keeping me on my feet?

No. I felt warmth. I felt…magic. I think Alaric healed me.

I don’t care if he did. It was probably because he wants to use me some more.

That’s what they do…these fae. They use you until there’s nothing left.

I need to get away. I don’t trust him, not even a little bit. He played me. Used me. Lied to me.

“McColl…please hear me out,” Alaric says from behind me.

I turn, seeing him on his feet, his chest heaving. His eyes are a bright green now.

Green!

They’ve changed completely. They’re too bright, too pretty to be on a human.

Despite the bloody nose, which he wipes with the back of his hand, his features are even more attractive than before.

His hair thicker and shinier. His shirt strains across what looks like more muscle.

He looks taller, bigger, far more impressive. His ears are pointed.

A bastard fae.

My enemy!

“Stay away from me.” I start back toward the Court. I have no plan save to get away from him.

I stop dead when I see them.

Moons, no! It can’t be. Just when I thought it couldn’t get worse.

“Kakara help me,” I whisper under my breath, my hand going to my throat to touch a piece of jewelry that is no longer there.

It’s a group of mounted fae guards, and they are coming this way, moving quickly with swords and spears in their hands. Their great steeds eat up the ground below.

They may not have seen us yet…but they will at any second.

My mind races as I scan the area for any possible escape routes and find none. There isn’t so much as a boulder to hide behind. We are like sitting ducks out here.

I jump as Alaric takes my hand. “No…” I start to say, trying to pull away, but he holds on fast.

“Stop,” he says to me. “I won’t hurt you.

I swear.” His hand grows warm. His eyes widen as his magic surrounds us, making the air seem murky.

He’s casting a masking spell to hide us.

It was him…Alaric healed me. It had to have been.

He isn’t an emptyfae. That might be why he’s leaving this Court.

I know that relations between the fae species are strained.

It doesn’t change anything. I keep asking myself why he needed me. Had he masked himself to look human? He more than likely healed me because he still has a use for me. Unfortunately, I need him, too. I wish to the gods that I didn’t, but here we are.

Within seconds, the spell is woven. All that the approaching fae will see is a clump of bushes or a pile of boulders. Whatever Alaric conjured in his mind. They shouldn’t be able to see us. Not if the spell is working correctly.

The air fills with the scent of strong magic, which gives me hope that the masking spell is working. There is a buzzing through my veins that must be him, since it can’t be my own magic. I have never had access to this much before.

I wonder what kind of fae he is. He’s not an emptyfae. They’re not capable of accessing their magic…much like me. A shadowfae, perhaps? I don’t know much about them, save that they manipulate the shadows somehow. I tell myself to relax, to breathe slowly.

“I’m sorry. I swear I didn’t know,” Alaric says, talking under his breath. “I won’t hurt you. Nothing has changed.”

Does he still have his faculties?

“Everything has changed,” I say between gritted teeth. “Let’s get through this, shall we?” I whisper.

He makes a noise of agreement, still clasping my hand tightly.

We hold our collective breath as the fae draw closer. The sound of hooves grows louder and louder.

As they draw near, I see the glint of their weapons and the intensity in their eyes. My breath catches in my throat, fear coursing through me like a river. Alaric’s presence beside me is a strange comfort, his touch grounding me even as chaos looms. It shouldn’t, given who he is.

I don’t understand it.

The guards pass by without noticing us, their horses continuing on their path without faltering. Relief washes over me in waves as they disappear into the distance. I turn to Alaric, my eyes wide at our narrow escape. I huff out a breath I didn’t know I was holding.

He puts a finger over his lips, and my heart stutters when I realize why. The guards are turning their steeds and coming back this way. It doesn’t take long before they pass us again.

“They’re here somewhere,” one of them growls. They’re all searching.

“Somewhere close,” another shouts.

How do they know? Did they see us? They must have.

Moments later, they swing back, going east as they pass us for a third time. This time, they stop right next to us, and my heart lodges itself in my throat. I can hardly breathe.

They’re so close, I can smell the horses. Can hear the squeak of the leather as they move in the saddles, searching left and right.

The head guard has a longer spear and a golden crest on his helm.

“Queen Snow can sense that he is using his magic. He’s somewhere close.

” He presses a finger to one of his temples and closes his eyes.

“Yes, Your Majesty.” He speaks and then makes noises like he is listening.

“Understood. I will find them, my Queen.”

He looks straight at us. I clutch a hand over my mouth until he looks away.

The queen!

What? How can she sense Alaric?

Is he speaking with the queen through some sort of mental connection? Then again, it wouldn’t surprise me. Why would the queen care about a nobody like him?

Unless…

Unless he isn’t a nobody.

Our gazes lock. Alaric squeezes my hand, silently pleading with me to keep trusting him.

I don’t.

I’m stuck, though. It’s him or the guards. I’d sooner pick neither, but right now, and in this situation, I have no choice but to stick with him.

I nod once, and he relaxes his shoulders by the smallest of margins.

They circle us twice before heading west.

“You need to take over the spell,” he whispers.

“I’m not strong enough.” I wish I were. It’s my greatest wish. It always has been.

“We have no choice, McColl. They will soon figure out that this clump of anthills is more than meets the eye, and we will be done for, anyway. You heard what they said about Snow. You saw what happened. They are tracking my magic…or she is, but it makes no difference. They will be back in no time. They will figure it out. You need to try.”

“Who are you?”

“Not now. We’ll talk later. I told you. They’re coming back. You have to try…please.” There is a pleading edge to his voice.

“I’ll try, but it more than likely won’t work,” I warn him.

“Then we will be captured.”

“No pressure.” I glare at him. It almost feels like I’m in school again, with Professor Thornfield giving me some impossible magical task. Only, instead of having to mop the floors because of my lack of magical prowess, I’ll end up in the dungeons.

“You can do it.” His eyes soften. “You brought me back from the dead.”

I want to laugh, but the approaching fae might hear. “That had nothing to do with me and everything to do with you being a fae,” I whisper.

“You can do it,” he repeats.

I close my eyes, focusing every ounce of my being on channeling the remnants of magic within me. Only, instead of remnants, a bounty of magic rises inside me. My skin turns golden. I burst with magic. It seems to come out of my every pore.

Control!

Easy.

Like a trickle from a stream instead of a raging river.

Once again, I hear Professor Thornfield’s voice inside my head, even though she never had to speak those words to me. It was always Lydia or one of the other stronger witches.

I have to tamp down my power, which I’ve never done before. I’ve seen it done. I know how to do it, so I do. The air still crackles with energy as I easily maintain the illusion we are shrouded in, taking over the spell seamlessly.

What is happening? How can this be?

The guards ride past us without a second glance, their attention diverted by something further down the meadow. Alaric sighs in relief, his grip on my hand loosening slightly.

“Don’t stop,” he whispers. “I’m sure they will be back.”

It doesn’t take long before they are.

“It’s gone,” the leader says. “He’s stopped using his power.”

“He can’t just be gone,” someone else yells. “He must be here somewhere. We’re missing something,” he mutters.

“Well, he is gone. At least he isn’t using his power anymore, so we can’t track him.” They go to the spot where I fell.

One of the guards dismounts, inspecting the ground. “It looks like someone either fell or dismounted. There are two sets of tracks.” He walks to the spot where Alaric jumped off. “He’s with someone. I think they might be on foot, but I can’t be sure.”

“Let’s split up,” the leader says. “Japhet, you take five guards and follow the horses’ tracks. We’ll keep circling. There are still a few hours of daylight. Keep your eyes open. They’re here somewhere.”

“They have to be,” Japhet says as he mounts up, turning his horse in the direction that the horses took.

They split up, a small group giving chase at a fast lope. The group headed up by the leader decide to check out a rocky outcrop in the distance.

I keep a tight hold on the spell until they are gone. It’s easy. I barely have to try. My well is full. My veins buzz with power. It’s exhilarating and a little disconcerting.

It’s also utterly baffling. How did this happen? Why now? I don’t understand.

“I thought you said you didn’t have much power.” He looks at me through narrowed eyes.

I drop his hand and end the spell. “ You’re questioning me ?” I shake my head. “You! I don’t think so. Up until not so long ago, you looked like a human. Who are you?” I demand. “Is your name even Alaric? I somehow doubt it. Everything you’ve told me is a lie, isn’t it?”

“It isn’t. I swear.”

“Just the part about you being a fae.” I snort. “What kind of fae are you?”

“It doesn’t matter right now. It’s not safe. We need to get moving. We’ll talk later…I swear.”

Curse the gods, he’s right. As much as I want to argue, I can’t. Those guards will be back soon enough.

“Where do we go?”

“We stick to the original plan,” he says.

I choke out a laugh. “You want to travel to the human realm…to the Regana Mountains? Because that’s where I come from.”

“Yes, that’s what we will do.” We start walking. “I said I would take you back to your coven, and I meant it. I will keep my word. To the Regana Mountains…more precisely, to Witch Mountain.”

It’s how the fae and the humans alike refer to my home. It’s in the Regana Mountain range. Our mountain is known as Witch Mountain. It’s not very inventive.

I doubt he is as noble as he makes out. There must be an ulterior motive I’m not seeing.

“I’m perfectly fine on my own, Alaric…or whatever your name is.

I don’t need you, and you don’t need me.

We’re free. The best thing would be to split up.

I’ll head back home, and you can go…wherever you want, as long as it’s not with me.

” Home. Why does the thought suddenly leave me cold?

This is what I’ve always wanted. To show my mother, my peers that I am worth something.

That I could be someone of importance. I could make a difference for my people.

To help keep them safe from the fae by being able to use the magic inside me.

I clear my throat, pulling myself from my thoughts.

“I’ll head home,” I repeat. “And you can go back to your own realm, wherever that may be. This is where our paths split.”

He starts to talk, but I put up my hand.

“I don’t want to hear it. There is nothing you can say that would change my mind.

You are a fae. Your kind hunt my kind. You use us in the worst of ways.

Use us until we are shells, then you send us into hard labor until we die soon after.

So many of my kind have been taken, broken, and killed.

Many more are being held against their will.

Many are yet to be hunted to be used in much the same way. ”

“I’m sorry that—”

“Sorry? You? Don’t! Spare me.” I shake my head. “We’re enemies. If you follow me, I will have no choice but to smite you down.”

We arrive at the barrier. I hold up my hands and use a spell that will make the magic wall think I am a fae.

My magic isn’t quite as strong as before, but it still flows from me easily enough. I pass through without a problem. I have to bite back a smile. How? I push out a breath. These things work in mysterious ways.

Alaric passes through easily since he is a fae.

“I can’t use my power, McColl. They will know and will come for me. That leaves me vulnerable. I need your help to—”

“Why are you running from your own kind? Actually, I don’t want to know. I don’t care. My answer is no,” I tell him. For a moment, I feel terrible. My instinct is to help him. I remind myself that I don’t know him. I never did. I don’t owe him a single thing.

He is a fae.

Then again, he broke the spell by breaking the chain securing the amulet to my neck. He also brought me back from the brink of death.

He’s one of them, though.

He lied.

He isn’t to be trusted.

He is my mortal enemy. I have to remember that. He wants to use me some more. It has to be that.

“We made it out of the Emptyfae Court,” I tell him. “You are on your own now. You can’t come with me. Good luck.” Then I turn and walk away, sloshing through a puddle of mud as I do.

I feel him watching me as I leave. I refuse to feel guilty. I won’t!