Trueheart (Portland After Dark Book 1) (33 page)

"Hunter's the one who's freed, not you."

Thomas shrugged. "It's nearly the same thing, I reckon. I've made my own choice. If she calls me again, I won't go. Freed."

Tess scrubbed at her face, where her tears smelled faintly of root beer again. She had to take a deep breath to call back her human self, and found it could be done. Not completely, but somewhat. She wasn't as sure as Thomas that he could ignore the call of his Queen, but she also wasn't sure the Queen still had her job, now that Hunter no longer did her bidding.

"It'll get easier, the glamour," Thomas said. He got to his feet and came to put his arms around her, careful not to step on her rooty bare toes.

"Promise?"

"Promise. I'll teach you."

She leaned against him. Her hair drifted upward, becoming twiggy, growing leaves. "I'm frightened. I don't want to be fae." Yet somewhere deep inside, she wondered if she wasn't fooling herself. Had the Queen seen through her to her deepest longings? Was this truly her heart's desire? She didn't want to be lonely any longer. Standing beside the strong-tasting Columbia with Thomas's arms around her, she felt a new sort of contentment like an undercurrent in her soul. Thomas was here with her. Loneliness seemed like a bad dream that was already fading.

"It's not so bad, being fae. Just different."

"Then why do you want to be human?"

He was silent for so long that she began to fear she was wrong—he didn't actually want to be human. When he spoke, his tone was thoughtful and quiet. "For a long time I only wanted to get back what she took from me. Beat her at her own game. Revenge." Thomas tipped her face up with a rough-skinned trow finger under her chin. "But lately, I wanted to be human for
you
."

"Oh," was all she could manage, but it made him smile, despite his exhaustion. He kissed her softly.

They stood twined together for a while. The smell of dawn grew stronger and the wind off the river slackened before it changed direction. "Are we safe?" she asked. "What are we going to do? Where will we go?"

"I might know a few places. Not the market, and not my trow-hold. Maybe not even Portland, not right away. We'll wait until we hear some news."

"What if the Queen—"

"We'll make plans. Over breakfast. How does that sound?"

"Let me guess. Milk and fresh bread?"

"Nothing better in the world." He grinned, all his big teeth showing. "Is there still a wallet in that famous cross-body bag of yours?"

Tess lifted the flap and reached inside with fingers that were rough with bark at the knuckles. Her wallet was still inside. "Yep."

"Then let's go see if Clatskanie has a grocery store open this early in the morning. I'm hungry."

"You'll have to do the buying. It might be awkward if a tree-girl walked into the store."

"It will be my pleasure."

Hand in hand, they put the Columbia at their backs and walked south through marsh grass and moss. From the east came the thin, faraway crow of a rooster.

Read on for an excerpt of
Ironbound
, the next installment in the Portland After Dark series! Coming in 2017.
Copyright © 2015 Mel Sterling. All rights reserved.

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H
unter chose not to be seated when his hounds—a motley mix of bogles, kelpies, redcaps and one ragged boggart—dragged Thomas Half-made and his fair lady, Tess, into Hunter's audience room. Hunter stood with his arms crossed. His wooden staff leaned against the arrangement of massive basalt hexagonal columns that served as his throne. He wore his crown of reeds, animal tails and dreadlocks, but his stag's head mask, with its broad rack of antlers, rested atop his throne like a crown itself.

King in the East, those who had followed him from Forest Park at Allantide had taken to calling him. His band of the solitary fae grew every day, as more and more slipped away from the Unseelie Queen's great mound west of the Willamette River. They came one at a time, or in pairs, arriving in the darkness, or just before dawn, when the humans of Portland slept. Hunter's halls lay beneath Mt. Tabor, an extinct cinder cone inside the city limits. From its top, he could see the long line of hills that bounded Portland to the northwest, and housed the Queen and her court.

At Hunter's left sat a squat basalt column. On its top was a brazier, and behind the brazier was the one fae Hunter knew would command Thomas Half-made's trust: Sharpwit the hob. She had once tended her grill in the goblin market beneath the Burnside Bridge, but at Allantide, the Queen's work was done and Underbridge became an outpost of the mound at Forest Park. Sharpwit, having heard of the war begun that night within the Queen's chambers, and the ill treatment of Thomas Half-made, had crept away from the market. Now she fed the fae in Hunter's halls, making do with raids into human kitchens and shops while she worked to establish her supplies of more traditional fare such as grubs and fungus.

The ragged boggart grinned wildly. Tess—for Hunter had learned her truename two weeks before on that fateful Allantide—marched in front of him, trussed in a coil of Hunter's own snare magic. The boggart's stone knife lurked at her ribs. Her torso and arms were wrapped like a spider's bundle.

Thomas Half-made, the Queen's former trow barrowguard and guardian of the goblin market, accompanied the boggart and the rest of Hunter's hounds. Thomas's fists opened and closed in pure impotent fury as the birch girl he loved struggled within the snare.

There had been no need to capture Thomas; only his beloved. It was as effective as capturing the half-human, half-trow brute, and far simpler.

Hunter smiled, and in that moment Thomas saw him.

In a flash Thomas was upon him, big hands at his throat. Hunter gave one stiff nod to the boggart, who prodded Tess's ribs with the handle of the knife.

Tess made a grunt of discomfort, then was silent. Her eyes blazed at Hunter. At the sound, Thomas froze and his grip loosened, though he did not release Hunter, and the pressure on Hunter's windpipe made him want to cough.

But Hunter knew his point had been made. By controlling Tess, Hunter controlled Thomas. It was Thomas he most wanted. Thomas whom he suspected had the skills he needed.

Still, he had to admire her. Of all of the humans the Queen had dragged through her chamber over the centuries, only this one had managed to best her. Hunter owed Tess his freedom, perhaps even a place in his Court, but unless she was clever enough to claim that debt, he would offer nothing. Humans often had no skill at bargaining with the fae, and Hunter saw no need to change that balance. Tess had been human when she first met the Queen, but the Queen had turned her into another of her half-mades, a birch girl part of the time, barely human the rest. The difference between Tess and Thomas was that Thomas still owed the Queen allegiance as long as her band of bone and gold was around his arm. Tess had no such allegiance, but her history with Hunter was dark and brief. She would not encourage Thomas to assist Hunter. Thomas had been the prey of the Wild Hunt that Allantide. At the time, he had been an obstacle in the path of Hunter's plans.

Yet now he sought Thomas's knowledge and skill. It galled him to need another to solve a problem he should have been able to address, but Hunter could not allow the Queen's depredations to continue. He had to find a way to stop her from picking off, one by one, the fae who had fled with him to the east side of the Willamette River.

Another glance from Hunter and the boggart prodded Tess again. This time she took a hard, stamping step backward onto the boggart's foot in reaction. But boggarts were not bogles or goblins, and their feet were hard as horn. Hunter gave her grudging approval for the attempt. Then he shifted his gaze to Thomas.

"Release me, or my hound will use the sharp edge of his knife."

Thomas Half-made glared back at him for several long moments, but Hunter did not blink or flinch. Then the trow took a step back, but only one. "I wondered which of you would try to finish me first," Thomas growled. "You or the Queen. I have my answer. Let her go." His head tipped back to indicate Tess.

Hunter eased one leg onto the arm of his throne and shifted his weight. He opened his hands to show they were empty. "I would have requested your presence, but would you have come?"

"Of course not, you murderer!" Tess spat.

"She is fiercer than you," Hunter said idly to Thomas.

"Believe it," Tess replied.

Thomas's head turned to the right, where Sharpwit had a few autumn-curled slugs on skewers above the coals of her brazier. "Are you well, Sharpwit?"

"Aye," said the hob.

"Here of your own will?"

"Aye," she repeated.

"Not a prisoner?"

"Nay."

Thomas took another step back, wary confusion painted on his face. His heavy brows drew down. "Release the birch girl."

Hunter noted Thomas's care to avoid using Tess's truename. He resolved to do the same to demonstrate his willingness to negotiate. "Let us come to an agreement first, Half-made. Then I will release her."

"Agreement? I'll see you in hell first."

"That's as may be. But hear me. I require your skill with iron and ley lines."

"Another bargain?" Tess demanded. "I for one have had more than enough of fae bargains. The answer is no."

Thomas glanced over his shoulder at Tess, then back to Hunter. "I have the skill. But my price is high."

"Freedom from the Queen for you," Hunter said, nodding slowly. "And humanity for your birch girl."

Thomas's head tilted to one side, and Tess stilled behind him.

Good
. Hunter had their attention now.

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