Cassandra Pendragon

“Easy now,” I coaxed, “slowly.” The coughing subsided as the battered fey took another, tiny gulp. “There you go. Better?” She… he, it was hard to tell, gave a funny little jerk and blinked at me with huge, slanted eyes.

I was with Alassara again, below the cherry tree in the garden where we had had our first real conversation. The cold in the temple had probably posed as much of a danger to the wounded creature as the cuts and bruises it had sustained. I hadn’t acted purely charitably when I had carried the quivering bundle from the darkness and across the lake. Greta would arrive any minute now and I meant to accompany her through the labyrinthian edifice. Waiting for her in the sunshine had seemed much more appealing than hunkering down on an eerie shore, shivering and twiddling my thumbs.

During the short trip I had had plenty of time to study the almost frozen fey in my arms. It looked quite like a silver wolf, a normal sized one, with golden antlers. At first I had even thought it was some kind of enchanted or magical animal, but when I had carefully approached the lump of horn and fur it had raised its head and stared at me with dark, glowing eyes that had clearly shown more intelligence than any animal had the right to possess. The broken pleas, whispered in an almost barking voice and in a tongue I hadn’t been able to understand had also been a dead giveaway.

To cut a long story short, I had checked which portal had been active and after a moment of uselessly staring at the runes simply decided to shut them all down. Wise as I had become I hadn’t simply torn apart or absorbed the spells but rather… put a wedge between the moving parts. It hadn’t been as complicated as it sounds, courtesy of my core I had had enough energy at my disposal to simply envelop the whole construct in a bubble of my own making and increase the pressure until the magic had ground to a halt. In a way the portals were still active but, unless someone managed to blow apart my barricade, no one would be moving through them any time soon. Which meant, unless another immortal deemed it necessary to meddle, we were quite safe.

Back to the present Alassara and I were hovering over the wolf like creature like nurses, watching powerlessly as it squirmed and whined on the ground. The pain of its limbs warming up again, combined with the nasty cuts it had sustained on its flanks, must have been pure agony, but we couldn’t do much to alleviate its discomfort. All we could do was wait until its body had regained most of its functions and pray that it hadn’t been trapped in the cold long enough to cause any lasting damage. I was quite hopeful, though, the fey were pretty resilient and judging from the increasing noise it wasn’t anywhere near death, at the very least.

“I wish I knew which portal it came through,” I mused while I offered our guest another sip from a water skip, which it accepted almost greedily.

“Probably the one you want to take as well,” the vampire replied and gently pressed the creature to the ground, preventing its sharp claws form either hurting us or ripping through the leather.

“The cuts look like battle wounds. Why would the fey be fighting on an remote island,” I asked doubtfully.

“They don’t necessarily have to be. Magic is strange and sometimes unpredictable. If a transportation spell went awry, which isn’t unlikely in the heat of battle, it could have tapped into the existing spells and transported the wielder to the preset destination instead of the actual target.”

“Tap into a spell that’s anchored several islands away? I don’t think so, unless it was a large ritual. But that doesn’t make sense either. If they used a ritual why’s there only one? A spell of that magnitude could have transported hundreds.”

“Maybe it did but the wolf was the only one who got lost? Maybe this one wasn’t strong enough to keep the magic under control and was thrown off course?”

“Maybe. If you’re right and there really was a ritual powerful enough to cause this, the war has already started and it’s escalating quickly. Can you understand the language?” She shook her head, her gleaming red eyes never wavering from the strange creature.

“No, the fey don’t teach their language to outsiders and I’ve honestly never bothered too much with them. They’re capricious at best and simply a pain in the butt at worst. My brother… he tried to capture one a few years ago. They make for excellent sustenance and they’re… sturdy enough to survive a while, even in captivity, but we were already trying to kill each other back then, so I don’t know any details.”

“But he could have pulled one through a portal,” I sighed.

“He could have, but he was careful. I don’t think that’s why we have one here, and I’m certain that’s not the creature he tried to capture. It would look much more… emaciated, if it were.”

“Figures. So all we can do is wait until Greta arrives with Erya?” She smirked and shook her head.

“Sometimes I forget how young you are. There are plenty of fey tribes out there. Chances are that this one isn’t even remotely connected to Erya and her family. If that’s the case, she might not be able to understand it, either.”

“Right, what a coincidence,” I scoffed. “We just so happen to stumble across another fey, entirely unrelated to the mess we’re dealing with. Honestly, what are the odds?”

“Not as bad as you think,” a raspy, clipped voice sounded from somewhere around my thighs. I was on my knees, trying to persuade the wolf to drink slowly, but as soon as it spoke I jumped to my feet and my wings whispered into existence, forming a protective, scintillating cocoon around Alassara and me. A dry laugh, almost like a bark, was my only reward.

“Slightly on edge, are we?” Its jaws were grinding, as if it chewed every word before it spat it out. “Relax, I’m neither in the condition nor do I want to harm you. Thanks for saving my hide, I thought I was a goner. And to make it a little easier for you, I’m male, my name is Carnen, I’m definitely not from the Silent Glade and if the Erya you mentioned before is the previous queen of that realm, I’d rather not make her acquaintance. You have my thanks and your both beautiful enough that I’d try to fulfil most of your wishes, but I don’t want to meet the woman whose children imprisoned and tortured me for the better part of a decade, gratitude and looks be damned. Give me a minute or two and I’ll be out of your hair.” As if to prove his statement he was staggeringly trying to climb to his paws but even though the sprit was willing, the flesh was not and he fell back down with a groan. “Maybe a bit more than a minute,” he added grudgingly. “I can’t even remember the last time I was this cold.”

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

My mouth was opening in a silent exclamation and Alassara was staring at the fey with the same look of incredulity and amazement. The language barrier seemed to be the least of our problems. “Since I’m not going anywhere for now,” he continued jovially, “and the two of you look like you might suffer a stroke if you don’t get any answers, why don’t I try to satiate your curiosity? What’s got your knickers in a twist? Why I was down there in that freezing, good for nothing place? That’s easily answered. I was a prisoner and when the Silent Glade prepared for war I saw my chance. I took it but I screwed up in the process, hence the rather dire circumstances you found me in. I leeched off some of the power they used for a marshalling spell but I think I botched up the structure, hardly surprising when a warden is trying to gut you while you’re channeling your magic. The stupid thing sucked me into a vortex and when I finally managed to claw my way out I didn’t have the juice left to cast a single spell. Still don’t, come to think of it. The rest you know.” He was slowly getting to his haunches while the two of us still stared like we had never seen a talking wolf before. In all fairness, I hadn’t. Only in my dreams.

“Do you have anything to eat,” Carnen asked. “Meat preferably? Once I’ve got some sustenance in me I won’t mind putting on a show if you’re still insistent on ogling me.” His grey eyes were wandering from the vampire to me as a wolfish smile spread his lips. “On the other hand, stare all you want, but I think I’m going to do the same. Damn girls, where have you been hiding all my life? You aren’t some fey lords in your own rights, are you? That would just make my day.” With a deep moan he stretched his legs and nuzzled his injuries. “That bastard got me good, didn’t he? Another few seconds and he’d have turned me into the world’s tastiest skewer.”

I was torn between confusion, curiosity and no small amount of amusement. The wolf-fey reminded me of John, Richard’s brother who had met his fate at Amon’s hands. He had possessed the same kind of impish charm and the devil may care attitude. Quite fitting that one had ended up as a rotting, stinking pile of bones and flesh on the sidewalk while the other had been imprisoned for years by his own people. Somehow I just couldn’t imagine a similar fate befalling a boring, dusty librarian. But then again, thinking back on my first kill and the rather eternal end the Furglows had suffered, death didn’t seem to differentiate that much, after all.

I shook my head before I finally found my voice again: “sorry, I don’t have a sandwich with me, but I’m sure we can find something for you to chew on. First, though, as detailed and forthcoming as your explanations were, I still have some questions. Why were you held prisoner, for example?”

“Right. Thought we’d get there, sooner or later.” He studied me for a moment before he added: “would you mind telling me your name first? Not that I wouldn’t love to impress you with the thrilling tales of my exploits, but I’d rather know who you are before I drop my pants. Call me old fashioned if you must, but mama always told me to ask a few questions before accepting candy.”

“What about giving you water and saving your life, did she also mention those?” With a pinched smile I added: “I’m Cassandra and I’m no fey.” I fanned out my tails. “I’m a hybrid, a kitsune to be exact. This lovely lady is Alassara, a vampire and to answer your unspoken questions: we’re in Free Land, a city on a little island to the far south, which is by no means a part of any fey realm. Now, is that enough or do you need more?”

“If you’re offering,” he smirked, “I wouldn’t mind knowing your favourite food and music, just in case.” When I didn’t react he immediately continued: “in earnest, though, are you affiliated in any way with the Silent Glade? I wouldn’t call myself a villain but such unbecoming words as traitor or scumbag have been thrown my way by those stuck up slugs.” I titled my head to the side and thought for a moment but ultimately decide to tell the truth:

“In a way. Erya is… a friend hardly covers it and she was, long ago, the ruler of the Silent Glade. I’m not so sure how I regard her children, though, and, truth be told, neither is she.”

“That’s something,” he grumbled. “Ungrateful, cruel, little…” his voice tailed off and he paled, just as the scent of wildflowers and cherries tickled my nose. The dryad had arrived and she had apparently managed to convince Erya to tag along. Oh boy, this might become really interesting…really fast.

“Do go on,” the fey urged, her mouth twisted into a fake smile, “please. Ungrateful, cruel, little…?” For a second I was tempted to stay out of it and simply watch the show but I didn’t have the time and, in all honesty, the patience to watch them squabble.

Tiredly I got up and into the fey’s path. “At least listen to him before you go for his throat,” I sighed. “I know how much you hate to hear it but your kids didn’t exactly come across as well behaved and timid, when last we saw them. Don’t tell me you didn’t expect them to have made some enemies.” She eyed me coldly and even though I was prepared to bet she didn’t realise herself, I could almost hear the cogs and screws snap into place behind her forehead. She knew there were plenty of people out there who had presumably been hurt by her children but they were still her kids. Whatever she was going to do or say, there was no easy way out and she was simply looking for someone to vent. The wolfish fey had been her first target but now I had volunteered and with me, she didn’t have to hold back, either. Unfortunately, she also knew I wouldn’t take it lying down.

“And what’s that supposed to mean,” she snarled and got into my face until our noses were about a hair’s width apart.

“Exactly what I said.” Greenish sparks travelled menacingly along her horns and her black eyes sparkled with an inner light I didn’t like much. She was… disappointed, hurt and afraid of what she might be forced to listen to, which of course meant she acted like an enraged bull. Oh bother, no wonder I treated most beings like children. Again I was on the verge of letting her blow a fuse. Simply adding something along the lines of “it’s not your fault they’re rotten,” would have probably done the trick, but I didn’t see the appeal. Instead I leaned forward and pecked her cheek, smiling wryly.

On a side note she froze, blushed and raised her fingertips to the spot my lips had touched dreamily, which already constituted a massive win in my book, especially the blushing part felt like a taste of hard earned payback, but first and foremost she kept her mouth shut and Carnen didn’t miss the opportunity:

“Look,” he explained, “we’ve never met but I’d have to be dumb like a tree to not realise who you are. You missed my introduction earlier, so allow me to repeat it. I’m Carnen of the Dark Wilds. Still rings a bell?” Close as we were I could feel her tense up, the name obviously more than enough to spark a few memories. Her eyes still lingering on me she nodded and replied:

“Indeed it does. A good thing we haven’t met when I still sat on my throne. Otherwise your entrails would already fertilise the flowers.” He chuckled, which sounded like a dog choking on a bone.

“So you do remember. But honestly, what have I done that justifies your hatred? I’m a mere thief.”

Erya winked at me before she turned away, the magical nimbus around her horns flickering out. “Except you don’t steal gold or baubles but land. Have you been caught while fulfilling one of your mistress’ demands?” I felt quite lost. I mean, I was able to add two and two together and conclude that Carnen had been working for one of Erya’s rivals back in the day and presumably stolen a piece of the Silent Glade but the who, what and why of it all escaped me entirely. No wonder, considering I didn’t know that much about Erya’s past. As outspoken as the girl was, when it came down to it she was still a riddle, wrapped in an enigma, coated by a generous amount of deflection and superficial naughtiness. A bit like Lilith, really. If the two of them were ever going to meet they might scratch each other’s eyes out, get along splendidly or, may the gods have mercy, start a family. Flocks of a feather…

“The Purple Queen has long since lost her interest in me,” Carnen declared even though I didn’t really know him, I was quite sure that the growl in his voice was born from bitterness and not his unusual anatomy. “It’s been ages since I last acted on her behalf. No, I was caught while tried to make a living for myself without her protection. Your children hold grudges, Lady Erya.”