Page 24 of Fae Tithe (The Cursed Courts #1)

H elena and Lance had been travelling hard and sleeping rough for most of their journey.

They had already taken a week to get to Solas, and she was impatient to make it to the Capital.

Helena was painfully aware that with every moment her daughter was out of her reach, the higher the chance that something unthinkable would happen to her.

She eyed the long entry lines at the main gate to get into Solas. “Faedammit,” she cursed through gritted teeth.

The Dragon Gate itself was magnificent, a giant wooden structure breaking up the tall, taupe rampart that encircled the city.

The two behemoth gates had been thrown inwards to allow entry for the travellers, and the sharpened tips of the portcullis were drawn up.

For decoration, detailed Dragons had been carved on to the towering pillars on each side of the red gate’s frame.

The Solas Guards were directing the travellers into three distinct queues for entry into the city.

There were Fae in horse- drawn carriages, lesser faeries with their carts and mounts, and then humans, each group in a separate line.

A loud clatter caught Helena’s attention, jolting her in the saddle.

She snapped her head in the direction of the noise, squinting through the crowds.

“Get back to your line!” a Fae growled from the back of his towering horse, his eyes fixed on the ground.

“I’m sorry, sir. I didn’t mean to,” a faerie with leaf tipped ears replied, swooping down near the Fae’s boot in his stirrup. He scrabbled around, collecting the items that had fallen from his broken bag.

“I said, get back to your line.” The Fae bared his teeth with a curl of his lips.

A group of faeries blocked Helena’s view, but she was certain that she heard a thud and a squeal of pain.

She shook her head. I’m sorry for him, but I have my own concerns right now.

She was desperate to get into the city, but she definitely did not want to draw attention to herself and Lance.

Helena studied the queues. The humans moved quickly, shuffling forward with horses and carts.

The Fae in armour gave human adults and children a cursory glance before waving them through, their faces set in bored expressions.

Helena turned towards Lance and studied him.

The Merman wore the hood of his cloak low on his face, protecting his sensitive eyes from the strong Seelieland sun.

His black stubble had grown into a short beard over the course of their week-long journey.

She leant over to him from her gelding. His height could give him away, but he may just pass as human.

“Love…” She leant over to him from her gelding. The Merman lowered his ear to Helena, shifting in his saddle. “…we are going to go into the human line,” she whispered through his curls. “Keep your hood up, head down, and don’t show your teeth.”

“Understood,” Lance murmured, tilting his face toward the pommel of his leather saddle, stooping his shoulders to make himself look smaller.

Helena nodded with approval and directed her horse to join the end of the human entry line.

Lance fell in next to her on his gelding.

She allowed herself a smug smile as they moved through quickly.

She wondered if the Solas Guards, resplendent in their red and bronze uniforms, saw no threat from the humans, and that was why they allowed them all through the massive open gate without more than a second look.

Helena’s eyes widened in awe as she saw Solas thrumming with life.

She had thought Portson on festival days was busy, but it was nothing compared to the Seelieland Capital on a normal day.

The street that started at the Dragon Gate widened into a square.

Tall limestone apartments, several stories high, bordered it.

Market stalls crowded every corner, and the vendors’ cries to entice customers invaded Helena’s ears.

Lance lined his horse up next to hers and she saw him grimace. Helena wondered if the sheer volume of the noise hurt him. She knew the Merman’s hearing was more sensitive than her own.

He gave her a weak smile, his hood still low on his face. “What’s the plan, Len?”

The question spurred her into action, as though he knew she needed it to get her moving again. Helena squeezed the reins in her hands, her fingernails filthy from the road, dirt caked into the lines of her fingers.

“An inn, with a stable,” she replied. “We can check in and ask around, find out where Tithe Manor is.” With that, she squeezed her horse with her thighs and gave a gentle tug on the right rein.

Lance was painfully aware that he not been to Solas before.

Neither had Helena, of course, but at least she had more experience with large Landfolk cities.

The noise affected him most of all, oppressively constant and close.

He could cope with the festival in Portson, but this was something else entirely.

Solas was magnificent, writhing with life, a far cry from their quiet lives on Majora.

Lance’s keen eyes took in the sights. The wide streets and narrow laneways, with well-maintained cobbled roads, made up the majority of his view.

The narrower alleys had a sea of colourful canvas shade sails, sheltering the occupying stalls from the strong sun.

Lance eyed the small, vibrantly coloured shopfronts and market stalls that sold a variety of food and wares. Most of the vendors hawked their merchandise at the Merman and Helena as they plodded by on their horses. Their hoofsteps echoed on the cobblestones, adding to the din.

The streets bustled as faeries and humans dashed about in simple uniforms of loose red shirts and slack brown trousers.

He found it odd that most people on errands seemed to be dressed the same.

There were plenty of Fae men as well. They were all tall, lean, and beautiful, each surrounded by uniformed faeries and humans running at their every whim.

Lance could count the number of times he had met Fae on two hands, so he found it disjointing to see so many in one place.

He followed Helena’s lead, orientating himself by checking where they were in relation to the massive Golden Spire in the centre of the city. It seemed to stab the sky. His hand drifted to the scar on his belly from when he was harpooned six years ago. It itched whenever he eyed the spike.

The Merman could sense Helena’s frustration building, seething around her in a nearly tangible aura.

The first inn with adjacent wooden stables would have been suitable, but the human owner took one look at Lance and told them there was no room to spare.

The owner of the second establishment they tried was far more aggressive in her refusal.

The faerie, with small goat horns and curly hair, looked Lance up and down with a sneer. “We don’t take Seafolk here.”

He felt a pang of hurt, lips tugged down, but he turned to leave.

Helena was not so obliging. “Why the fuck not?” she growled, clenching and unclenching her fists.

The faerie wrinkled her nose and glanced at the Merman. “His stench! It will clear out the rest of my customers.”

His brave woman bared her teeth. “His what?!” She took a step forward, pulling back a balled fist.

Panic pulsed through Lance. He strode forward, catching her elbow. “Len, no, it’s not worth it. We will just find somewhere else.” He practically dragged her out of the inn.

Helena rounded on him. “Why did you stop me?! She had no right to speak to you like that.”

Lance rested a hand on each of her shoulders, looking deep into her narrowed gaze. “Sweetheart, I am so grateful that you wanted to defend me like that, but remember who we are here for.”

A confused look passed over her face. “El?”

The Merman nodded firmly. “Yes. Getting into a fight here could attract the attention of the Solas Guard. We could end up in jail, or our plan to find her could be uncovered.”

All of the anger dropped from her shoulders. “I’m sorry. I just… It makes me so mad, the way some people get treated in this Faedamn kingdom…”

“It’s alright.” Lance gave her a gentle squeeze. “Defend my honour some other time. I love it,” he teased with a wink.

Though he put on a brave face for Helena, it always hurt his heart when he was treated that way on land.

Lance knew his otherness scared many Landfolk, and, rather than offering a warm welcome to someone new, they despised him.

It was not the first time it had happened, and it certainly would not be the last.

“Let’s try here.” Lance pointed to a sign with a carved spiral sun and twisted rays on a wooden plaque that hung from the taupe brick. The plaque was fixed in place by a bronze pole above the blue doorway into the establishment “Bright Sun Inn,” he read out loud.

In their desperation to find somewhere to stay and gather the information they needed, Lance and Helena found themselves on the outer reaches of the walled city, closer to the Western Gate they had glimpsed in their search.

The buildings were less crowded in this section of capital.

The ramshackle, terraced houses there seemed older and more run-down.

Here, the faeries and humans were not uniformed, moving unhurriedly and chatting to one another as they came and went.

Lance smiled as he saw that some even had small gardens overflowing with herbs and vines, growing at the front of their tired homes.

It was quieter in this part of Solas, and Lance’s ears were thankful for it.

With the ebb of deafening, constant noise, he could finally think clearly.

The urgency of getting Eleanor back had risen again like a tide in his mind.

He had wanted to speak to both of them, to tell them everything about him and about his hopes for this visit.

Lance needed to talk to Helena about becoming Bound and making things more formal between the members of the little family.