Lord of the Hunt (16 page)

They moved away from the counter and waited. She opened up a pile of papers that was sitting on a table.

“Wow.” She pointed to something near the top. “I’ve been away over a month.”

“Time moves differently.”

“I know…I just didn’t think it was that different.” She looked at the first page, then turned to the next one. “That’s not good. Golden staph outbreaks in hospitals and an antibiotic resistance TB strain.” She flicked another page. “It’s like the first sign of the apocalypse. Are you reading any of this?”

“No.”

She turned her head a fraction, puzzlement in her eyes and in the way her eyebrows pinched together. “It’s important. Maybe related to”—she lowered her voice—“Annwyn.”

Oh, it was definitely related to Annwyn. The breakdown of power was bleeding across the veil. But it wasn’t the bad news that bothered him. It was his inability to read, something that had never worried him before. Yet now it did. While Taryn fit into this world, he didn’t. He’d seen it but never lived in it.

For a moment he considered not saying anything, but he didn’t want to lie to Taryn. “I can’t read.” Her lips parted, but he spoke before she could and defended his lack of skill. “I’ve never needed to learn.”

She nodded. “I guess most of the Court can’t read.”

“You’d be guessing right.”

The man rang a bell and she picked up the tray of food, and they went back outside to sit. Over the road, little gray squirrels scampered over the grass and up the tree.

“Do you have any idea how guilty I feel right now?” she whispered.

“Fairies have been doing things like that for as long as money has been around. It’s not like we carry coins.” Gems, silver or gold, silks, and other fine objects were usually traded. More often it was intangibles, which meant being very careful with the wording of what was being agreed to. Never make a deal in haste, as it would come back to haunt.

“It’s paper money now.” She corrected as she popped a fry in her mouth, then licked the salt off her fingers, her tongue darting out for a moment. He knew what that tongue felt like when applied to skin. Just watching her enjoy the food was worthwhile. “Try some.”

He unwrapped the burger. It certainly wasn’t elegant like Court food. Plant, meat, and cheese hung out the sides. It was rather unappetizing. Then he looked at Taryn and she was eating as though it was the first good meal she’d had since arriving at Court. He could do this for her—if he took the meat out.

He opened up the bun and pulled out the dead flesh, then closed it back up and took a bite. It was worse than it looked, but he chewed and swallowed and wished he had a glass of berry wine to wash it down with. He settled for the soft drink. While he’d braced for something terrible, it was pleasant. Bubbly and sweet.

“I have missed this so much.” She popped more fries in her mouth and made a sound that previously he’d only heard her make when they were alone and naked.

This meal was making her so happy. He tried to be more enthusiastic. It couldn’t be that bad; it was just different. After a couple more bites, he’d decided it really was that bad and he couldn’t eat any more. Instead, he concentrated on the drink.

She noticed. “You don’t like it.”

“It’s different.” He really didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

“And you don’t eat meat. I didn’t even ask. Do you want something else?”

“It’s fine. There is no meat at Court; we don’t eat dead things.”

She paused about to take another bite. “Does that mean I shouldn’t be eating it? Is there a reason?”

He shook his head. “Not that I know of, just that meat isn’t served in Annwyn. We don’t eat death. When we hunt, it’s for status and the kill it is returned to the earth.”

“So if you’ve never eaten meat, how do you know you don’t like it?” She raised one eyebrow.

He didn’t. He’d been trying to make the burger more like what he was used to. With her watching he broke a piece of the meat patty and put it in his mouth. It didn’t taste like death, but it didn’t taste like anything he wanted to eat again either. “How about I skip the meat and stick with the fries and drink?”

“As long as you don’t mind me eating meat.”

He smiled. “Not at all.”

“See, if we weren’t having our first date, I’d have never known you were a vegetarian.” She raised her paper cup. “To first dates.”

He raised his cup so they tapped. “To many more.”

“So if you weren’t the Hunter, what would you be doing?” she said after sipping her drink.

He never spoke about his family, though he was sure most knew his background simply because it was always wise to know your opponent. “My parents farm on the outer reaches of Annwyn.”

“There are farms?”

“Where do you think the food comes from? Someone has to grow it and produce it.”

Her lips parted as she thought about it. “I never realized. My parents never mentioned anything other than Court.”

“Most Court fairies don’t. They don’t like to think of anything other than themselves.” Something he’d have never said aloud in Annwyn. Yet here he didn’t have to censor every word. The humans around them were too involved in their own conversation. No one cared and no one was watching.

“You’re a Court fairy.” She pointed a fry at him.

“I am now.” He nodded and took the fry from her. “But I have lived beyond Court. It was my decision to leave the farm. I went in knowing what I was doing.” But not realizing what it would cost him. “So what do you do here? You aren’t part of the Brownie compact that your parents made.”

“My father is bound by the compact; my mother isn’t. She made sure I had a childhood instead of being trapped in the house. I went to school like everyone else, and I have been working as a cleaner to get enough cash for clothes. I think she is glad I’ve been called to Court. She didn’t like me running around like a human.”

“Plenty of fairies live here, acting human and rarely coming to Court.”

“Except now.” She scrunched up the paper, her burger now gone.

He covered her hand with his and squeezed gently. “Hey, there is time. Felan hasn’t even lined up a bride yet. He can’t claim the throne on his own.”

“True.” She sighed and leaned back in her seat. “I suppose we have to go back.”

“It’s been a lovely afternoon.” One he didn’t really want to end. He’d never imagined that being in the mortal world surrounded by humans could be so pleasant. Not that he could imagine living here. Fairies belonged in Annwyn, if not at Court.

“Despite the food.” But there was a glint her eye and he knew she wasn’t offended by his lack of eating.

She gathered up the garbage and threw it in the bin; then they started the walk back to the doorway. On the trail they passed a few walkers, but he let the magic go and they vanished from sight, leaving them free to leave the trail and wander through the forest hand in hand—as if everything were perfect. As if they wouldn’t have to go back to ignoring each other except when required to speak and play. It was becoming harder and harder to watch and say nothing.

Verden stopped, his fingers sliding against Taryn’s. He turned around, listening.

“The doorway is this way, isn’t it?”

He nodded. “Something isn’t right.”

“We were just here.”

“No we weren’t. We joined the trail much later, as we didn’t know where we were going.” He turned again. “There’s a river here?”

She nodded but she was frowning. “There are waterfalls too.”

That wasn’t what he could sense. He felt death—and the not the usual random kind of death, but a breech in the veil. He ran through the forest, hoping it wasn’t a big tear, praying that it was nothing to worry about and something Felan could fix. He came to a stop by the body of a bear.

“What’s going on?” Taryn whispered. “Is that alive?” She took a step closer.

“Nothing is alive.” From the banks of the river spread death. The trees had shed their leaves. Squirrels lay unmoving on the ground, handfuls of gray fluff.

He walked closer, his stomach twisting until he saw the cause—a faint shimmer over the river that seemed to overspill. Not a lot, a small trickle. But it was enough. Then he saw the fairy on the other side. Felan. And he’d seen them.

“You sensed the tear?” Felan’s face was grim. His gaze skimmed over Verden and landed on Taryn.

Verden felt her stiffen. She wasn’t supposed to be in the mortal world at all and certainly not with him. He decided to ignore the obvious and stick to the problem of the river. “How did it happen?”

“I don’t know.” Felan shook his head. “I don’t think I can mend it either. There are too many. I stop one and another one opens.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “Annwyn is failing.”

Verden swallowed, the lingering taste of human food on his tongue, the weight of it in his stomach. There was nothing he could do to help Felan, not without breaking his word to Gwyn.

“I know,” he said simply.

Felan nodded. “You are true to your word?”

The two men stared at each other across the river poisoned with death. “Always.” He’d sworn to Gwyn and nothing would change that.

Felan’s eyes narrowed. “Lady Taryn, I would love to know why you aren’t at Court. I’m sure I didn’t give you leave to cross the veil.”

“Now is not the time.” Verden didn’t want to be explaining what was going on, even though he knew it was already too late. Felan knew; he just wanted to hear it spoken and gain leverage.

“I think it is.” There was a look in Felan’s eye that only came when a man knew the next three moves his opponent was going to make.

He was about to get tied up in a deal he didn’t want to make just to keep his…his affair with Taryn private.

“I found a doorway by accident and Verden warned me about crossing and then we found the river,” Taryn said. But the lie had no substance, her words were too fast and too ill thought out.

“If you’re going to lie to the Prince, you have to do better than that,” Verden muttered.

“It was all I had,” she whispered back. Her fingers threaded with his. Whatever was going to happen, they were in it together.

He held her hand tightly. Not even Felan would pull her away from him.

The Prince didn’t miss the linking of their hands. He shook his head. “You are lucky it’s me standing here and not my father.”

“I’m aware of that, my Prince.” Verden inclined his head. If Felan wanted Verden to offer up himself, he’d be waiting until Annwyn froze over—which probably wasn’t that far away.

“I don’t think telling of this meeting”—Felan nodded at the tear in the veil—“would be beneficial to anyone at Court.”

Verden glanced at the silvery rip in the veil weeping death into the river and killing everything around it. He knew it would spread, that the dead animals and trees were just the start. Then he looked at the Prince. He wasn’t smiling; there were no offhand jokes and no goblet in his hand. This was the Felan that few at Court ever saw. This was the man keeping the edges of Annwyn from fraying too badly and preparing to take the throne. For all the whispers and doubts, Felan was playing a clever game, and a dangerous one. While few saw him as a threat to Annwyn, those same people didn’t think he could rule.

He could rule. He knew what he was doing and what was required. Which meant when Felan wasn’t at Court, he was doing more than fixing the tears; he was courting. That he was lining up a bride was something he wouldn’t want known, as someone could follow him and attack the woman.

“We are both spending more time than usual in the mortal world, both for work and pleasure.”

Felan nodded. “So we understand each other. Let’s not speak of this again.”

“Wait.” Taryn released Verden’s hand and stepped closer to the edge of the river. “You can’t leave this like this. People will die.”

“Taryn…” Verden tried to draw her back. They had been just about to walk away with their secret safely kept.

“I can’t do anything. If I close this one, another will open.” Felan glanced along the river. “I think letting the wound spill in one place is better than many small cuts.”

“But this spills into a river; it will spread.”

“All the tears start at a river.” Verden grasped her hand and pulled her back from the edge of the water. Bodies of water were places of death. He didn’t like standing here. He didn’t know how Felan did it.

“Educate her, will you? I don’t have time.” With that the Prince turned and walked downstream, no doubt checking how bad the damage was. Even if it wasn’t bad now, in a few hours or days it would be.

“Come on, we need to get back.” He tugged at her hand.

“He did nothing.” Her words were soft, as if she couldn’t believe the Prince of Death would let people die.

“He is right. It is better he lets a few tears bleed and monitor them, rather than sealing and guessing where the next rupture is. Would you rather one plague or hundreds?” He’d rather none. But it was too late for that. Far too late.

This time she let herself be led back to the doorway.

Verden didn’t take her straight back to the castle. He did as the Prince had asked and took Taryn to see the river of damned souls. Most fairies avoided the place. Even when everything was in balance, there was an eerie quality to the river, a silence that sent shivers up the back of most fairies and gave them a healthy fear of water.

These days the river wasn’t just eerie; it was malevolent, as if all the damned souls trapped in it were determined to break free and wreak havoc on anyone and everything. The closer they got, the thicker the carpet of brown leaves became. They crunched beneath his boots and echoed in the silence. The flower vines that twisted around the trees were withered, and the jewels of sap were black boils on the bark.

“Where are we going?”

“The river. The river of damned souls overlays every river in the mortal world. Across the veil, rivers mean life, freshwater, and food. Here it is death.” Before him spread the river, wider, rougher, and darker than ever. Waves lapped at the bases of the closest trees. Those trees were dead; frost was starting to form on the tips of the branches—the first signs of winter.

He hadn’t expected that. Autumn well established, yes, but not ice. The realization took his breath. Felan knew about this, had wanted him to see, but how many others knew that winter was creeping toward the castle?