Page 2 of Fae Tithe (The Cursed Courts #1)

Rose’s twin eleven-year-old boys, Max and Zac, had huddled into their mother’s bed, instead of sleeping in their own, yet again.

Eleanor swooped down and kissed each boy on their matching fluffy heads.

Their blonde hair was long and curling, reaching down to their shoulders, and covered their ears and faces.

Eleanor then circled the bed and kissed Rose’s pale white cheek.

The woman’s startling green eyes fluttered open. “Oh… El… what time is it?” she slurred, still half asleep.

“Really early. Mum and I are heading to Portson now,” Eleanor whispered. “I just wanted to say goodbye to you and the boys.”

“Love you, El.” Rose sat up, pushing her wild, red hair from her forehead. She kissed the teenager on the cheek. “It’s a long trip, look after your Mum.”

Eleanor grinned. “Always. Love you too. Tell the boys as well, yeah?”

“’Course,” Rose replied, slumping back down, her heavy eyelids closing.

Eleanor pushed herself up as she rose from the edge of the sagging bed.

She moved silently to the door and eased it shut behind her with a muted click.

In the hallway, Eleanor’s hands found the straps of the canvas bags she had packed earlier.

She hefted them, moving towards the back door before pausing to pull on her riding boots.

She stepped outside, the chill of the early, still-dark morning wrapping around her.

Eleanor spotted her mother waiting in the crisp, early spring air.

Her breath rising in soft swirling clouds around her like a fire-breathing dragon, reminding Eleanor of the magnificent creatures illustrated in her school history books.

Helena stood beside a pair of sturdy ponies, their thick winter coats gleaming faintly under the muted light of the dawn.

The first glow of sunrise stretched over the ocean’s horizon, casting a warm gentle glow over her mother.

Eleanor approached with her saddlebags in tow.

“It’s amazing how the ponies are a lot fatter after winter, isn’t it, El?” she mused, raising an eyebrow at her. “It’s almost as though someone has been giving them extra treats.” She roughly patted the barrel belly of the bay-coloured pony, Bun.

Eleanor leant forward and stroked the mane of the grey, Ash.

The three children of the household had argued for a solid week about what to call the ponies when Helena had first brought them home.

The name Bun had finally been chosen because Rose had baked sticky buns in the wood-burning stove the same day, and Zac had insisted that the colours of the pony and the sweet treat had almost matched.

Ash, meanwhile, had been picked as a name because Max had cleaned out the stove and fireplace of the villa the day after the ponies arrived.

He had claimed that the ashes and the grey pony’s colour exactly matched.

“Well… winter is a bit boring. We may have been sneaking them extra treats for fun, the boys and I,” Eleanor admitted.

“Why am I not surprised?” Helena sighed.

Her mother strapped Eleanor’s bags between the two hardy ponies while the teenager mounted Ash, the slightly smaller of the two. Bun was mounted shortly afterwards by her mother. Eleanor noticed that Helena pulled a painful grimace as she found her seat in the rustic leather saddle.

“Are you okay, Mum?” asked Eleanor, her sky-blue eyes ever observant, her forehead knitted in concern.

“Yeah, all good,” Helena replied sheepishly. “I went a little hard at our training last week, if I am being honest.”

“Why are you only just telling me this now?” she chided.

“Alright, alright.” Her mother waved a hand dismissively. “I will be fine.”

Three years ago, Helena, with her daughter in tow, had found out a retired faerie soldier had moved into the closest village.

Eleanor had been mortified as she watched her mother argue with the goat-horned faerie, a Satyr, to teach the whole family how to defend themselves.

The grizzled soldier had baulked at the thought of teaching human peasants, women and children at that, to fight.

He soon changed his tune when Helena pressed several gold Seels into his hand.

The entire family soon attended the sessions on a weekly basis.

Eleanor also did so when she was home from school.

She quickly learnt how hard it was to train like the soldiers of the Seelie army.

The whole family, Eleanor included, moaned at the beginning, but her mother was insistent.

As she settled further in her saddle, the teenager rubbed absentmindedly at the yellowing bruise on her outer thigh, received at the previous week’s training. Eleanor had fumbled her feet in her fighting stance and slipped in the mud, ending up on her rear.

The mounted pony pair, accompanied by the resident villa mutt, set off down the track that took them to the closest village. From there, they would take their path down a bigger pressed earth road to the ancient causeway, all the way to Portson.

Eleanor watched as Helena gazed down, smile soft, at the scruffy creature by Ash’s side. “You’re coming too, then?”

Eleanor smiled at her mother’s interaction with the dog. There was a soft heart underneath her hardened exterior. Helena had the frequent habit of bringing home waifs and strays, like Biscuit.

On the road they heard the Siren’s song again. His voice sounded joyful and laced with excitement. Eleanor watched for Helena’s reaction. Her mother’s spine straightened, and she half turned her head back towards the sea.

Eleanor swallowed. “I am sorry I won’t be home when he arrives…” She felt tears prick her eyes. “I have really missed him.”

“Don’t worry, I have been thinking about that. We will come to the Equinox Festival in the city. I want to sell some nice pearls I have been saving and there are others due for harvest too. We will all come and visit you at school,” Helena said reassuringly.

“Thanks, Mum. I would really like that.” Eleanor smiled. Her shoulders loosened as the tight knot in her chest unravelled. A slow breath eased out of her and the tension in her grip softened on the reins.

“Maybe this year you won’t take over a month to write me a letter,” Helena teased.

“Okay, I’ll try. I am just really busy when I am there,” she replied with a dismissive tone.

“Uh-huh.” Helena raised a dark eyebrow but did not push the issue further.

The two rode in a companionable silence after that. The new spring sun was hot on their necks as they passed through two bustling villages. The landscape they traversed was a vibrant emerald. Wildflowers in a rainbow of colours dotted the green carpet like stars sprinkled in the night sky.

As her eyes traced the patterns of the landscape of the island, Eleanor’s thoughts drifted towards school and what the year could bring. She had been teased in the past by some of the girls for her ability to recite facts and her love of learning. She just never quite fit in.

It’s not my fault I think differently.

Eleanor could remember information easily and often found she could recognise patterns and link information before others. Her mother had said more than once that her unique outlook could change Seelieland if that was what she chose to do.

Besides doing well at school this year, I just hope I make a proper friend.

Eventually, the group reached the causeway.

Eleanor had learnt in history class that the causeways between the Clusters and the coast of Seelieland were a generous gift from the ruling Seelie Court to the – mainly human – peasants that lived on them.

The footfalls of the pony’s hooves changed distinctly as they trudged from pressed earth road to the stone of the massive causeway.

Despite the earliness of the day, the bridge was already bustling with life.

Eleanor watched the people, both faerie and human, move with purpose in both directions, each on their own missions for the day.

After crossing the causeway, the city of Portson loomed tall on the horizon.

Eleanor could hear and smell the city before she could make out more than a roughly shaped limestone behemoth.

The provincial Capital sat proudly on the estuary of Sol River as though it knew it was an important centre for shipping and trade.

On her weekends at the school, Eleanor loved nothing more than to go to the port and watch the grand merchant ships.

They were resplendent with mahogany hulls and white sails, travelling back and forth with goods to trade.

She looked out to the ocean and spotted one. One day, I’ll be on one of those and see the world. Her eyes traced the dark wood and billowing canvas stark against the blue, heading towards the horizon.

Eleanor waited impatiently, hopping from foot to foot. She was keen to get to school as Helena lodged Bun and Ash at the common stables at the entrance to the city.

I can’t wait to get unpacked. I wonder if I will get a new roommate. Anyone would be better than Jessia. Eleanor’s lip curled in disgust at the thought of her roommate the previous year.

The teenage girl had pretended to be her friend so that Eleanor would help her get better grades. Then, once Jessia had achieved her goal, she proceeded to either tease or ignore Eleanor for the rest of the year.

She turned her attention back to her mother.

Helena had opted to lock Biscuit in with the ponies.

Eleanor understood why. The city streets were typically not safe for dogs, bustling and busy, the teenager had seen more than one street animal run over by a rushing carriage.

They each shouldered a bag and began the winding trudge to Portson Finishing School for Girls.