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Book 3 Chapter 37: The Satyr King

Wil knew that his friend Sylano loved to party. There were enough stories passed on about fauns and satyrs that talked about their propensity for hedonism, and the three day rager at a hobgoblin wedding anniversary was proof of that. But that had been in the middle of nowhere, and semi-improvised.

King Martinus had to have planned this. There was no way he had dozens of servants on standby with food and drink and music to play just for his own benefit. Right? They came from the open doors in the council chambers, carrying every kind of meat Wil could think of and several that were unfamiliar. Fruits piled high on platters were served by dryads wearing…Well, if a Calipan politician had this kind of service, they’d never hear the end of it.

“Um,” said Wil, frozen in place as tables and chairs were set up in the recessed center behind him. Isom’s ears flattened against his head and he looked around wildly.

“Be welcome, Master McKenzie, and enjoy our hospitality. If anyone deserves a party, it’s you!” King Martinus’ voice boomed over the clamor of the setup. Musicians gathered to the left and right of the council thrones, and began playing a loud, bombastic tune that was all boisterous swagger.

The satyr king got off his throne and joined Wil, throwing an arm around his shoulders. He guided them to a table filled with smokey smelling meats, still on the bone. “I’ve heard the stories of how you wrapped everything up and took down not only Grimnar but Timothy Twist as well. Do you have any idea how much that’s shaken things up here?”

“No,” said Wil. “It’s one of the things I was hoping to find out during my trip here. I’ve been worried about the after effects this entire time. Are things okay?” He eyed the meat, then went ahead and threw one to Isom. The wampus cat snapped it out of the air and crawled under the table with his prize.

“Okay? They’ve never been better!” Martinus guffawed and slapped Wil’s back. He was starting to hate when people did that. “We’re alive again. For the first time in centuries we’re looking to the future instead of remaining bogged down by the past. There’s plenty of time for your people to disappoint us, but we have hope. And that’s all thanks to you!”

It was always strange, getting complimented or thanked for things like that. His first instinct was always to downplay it and try his best to not sound like an arrogant jerk, but Wil couldn’t deny his impact on the situation. He shrugged, and laughed weakly. “I lucked into most of it, to be honest. I want the best for everyone, and for no one to get hurt.”

Martinus released him and grabbed one of the pieces of meat. He took a bite, and then, unfortunately, talked with his mouth full. “Luck or not, we have more of our people wanting to travel and see Calipan again, and others are excited to host humans coming our way. The world has changed in our absence and we get to see more of it. What was your request going to be, by the way?”

Will took his own piece of meat and tried a taste. His eyelids fluttered shut. The flavors danced around his tongue, demanding another bite. Then he remembered the question and said, “Me and the other humans who helped us all out, we’re making brand new magical machines to help those without magic. But we need faricite, and a decent amount of it.”

“Is that all?” Martinus laughed, spraying food. Wil wiped it away discretely. “I’d be more than happy to gift you as much faricite as you need.”

A thrill went through Wil, before he remembered what gifts could cost in Faerie. “That’s incredibly generous,” he said. “But I could never accept such kindness without showing it in return.”

Martinus dropped the meat onto a platter and held out his hand. A servant popped up to give him a goblet. He drank deeply and motioned for Wil to get a drink as well. Before he knew it, Wil had meat in one hand and an incredible blackberry wine in the other. He couldn’t help but feel trapped by the king and caught along in his desire for revelry, but he also couldn’t complain.

“I thought you might say that,” said the satyr. “Arabella’s talked my ear off about you, and Gallath has as well. For as much as that dour boy toys at all, I mean. The fact is, you saved my boy’s life and did all of Faerie a service. Thank you, Wil.”

That familiar feeling of Obligation hit Wil, skewing the power balance between him and the king. It wasn’t power over Martinus, so much as a promise of a debt to be repaid. “That’s not necessary, your highness. I would’ve done it regardless.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’ll get your faricite, no problem. For tonight, I want to share with you all of Faerie’s hospitality and fun.”

“That sounds nice,” said Wil, “but at least let me return the favor with some kindness. When I go home, I think I might be able to repair the leyline and let you guys control the way to and from Faerie more easily.”

“Sounds good to me. Here’s to you, Master McKenzie! Friend to Faerie!” Martinus raised his glass and drained it before hurling it at the wall. He and everyone assembled cheered at the sound of exploding glass.

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“Here’s to the King of the Woodlands, friend to Calipan!” Wil joined him, savoring the wine as best he could before he too hurled his glass.

Memories of his last fae party screamed a warning, but Wil trusted in his friendship to protect him from harm. Worst come to worst, maybe he would come home a day or two late. After that, things got blurry. One drink turned into two turned into four. His new best friend King Martinus kept his glass full and dragged him across the council chambers.

He met dozens of enchanting fae in a short amount of time. He couldn’t remember names, but there was the satyr poet whose work gave Wil renewed life. After that was a dryad woman who made an art of cultivating flowers and fruits on command from her body. By the time an impromptu unarmed duel happened between an ogre and a troll, he was comfortably drunk.

“Look at them go,” King Martinus crowed. “I could watch big guys hit each other for days!”

“I should’ve brought Bram,” Wil said, clinging to the satyr for balance. “He would’ve loved to come back. And he misses Gallath. He doesn’t say so, but I can tell.”

Martinis nodded sympathetically. “Imagine how good it would be for our people. A marriage to seal our new relationship!”

“I don’t know if they’re ready for marriage, but --”

“I could preside over it! We’ll have contests of strength, and a play, and…”

It became easy to forget that the satyr was royalty. He and Wil made their way across the room, topics changing every five minutes to whatever attracted the king’s attention. Isom kept up pace, stealing food at every step of the way, occasionally chasing gnomes and goblins before catching up.

The hours melted by, and his fear of losing time came true. It was well past sunset when Wil came to. His vision swimmed but he became aware that he was staring directly down over the railing on one of the branches outside. Vertigo made his stomach and head roll and he stumbled backwards.

He collided into someone soft and sweet smelling. He giggled as she caught him and spun him around. Arabella had a sly smile on her face. “Well, well, well. It looks like you do know how to cut loose. King Martinus share his favorite wine with you?”

“And food, and conversation. He’s a lot of fun! How are you doing, Ara-- Arabella.” Wil swayed in place, trying to still world. “You having fun too? This is your scene, right?”

“It is, and I am. I wanted to find you so someone could say hi.” Arabella whistled a complex tune Wil couldn’t have imitated if he wanted to. A few seconds later, Jeb came outside, clad in gold and white armor.

“Jeb?” Wil looked him up and down. His brother looked taller and stronger than ever, more confident, and most of all, proud. His armor made him look older and more dignified, while the sword at his side made Wil laugh. “You some kind of knight now?”

Jeb frowned. “That’s right,” he said. “I’m a Knight of the Wild Glen now, sworn to protect the princess from all threats.”

“Wow Arabella, you domesticated him!” Wil laughed obnoxiously, but he threw his arms out and grabbed his big brother into a hug. “You look good, Jeb. I take it that life in Faerie is treating you well?”

His brother sighed and hugged him back. “I get to attend all kinds of fancy balls and events, I get to get into some good brawls, and I’m wielding a magic sword! I even got to defend the princess from a dragon!”

“Really?” Wil’s eyes widened.

Behind him, Arabella cleared her throat. “It was just a drakeling, not an actual dragon. But yes, you did a good job defeating it. No one got hurt and he even got a new toy out of it.”

Jeb drew his sword and held up the hilt for Wil to see. When his eyes focused on the spot, he gasped. The hilt was the drakeling’s blue claw, wrapped around a fine silver blade with Arabella’s crest etched in. “That’s so cool!”

“He plays with it every chance he gets.” Arabella came around to Jeb’s side and leaned her head against his shoulder. She wore a small, pleased smile Wil couldn’t remember ever seeing before. It reminded him of an owner doting on a beloved pet.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” said Wil, “but you might have a more exciting, more interesting life than me at this point. Look at you!” He slapped Jeb’s armor. “You’re fighting drakelings and traveling. I’m just working in Bram’s cellar for things to sell.”

“Aw, don’t sell yourself short, Wil. You could do with some peace and quiet for a change, and you’ve done enough. You invent anything good?”

Wil snickered. It grew into a chuckle, then unhinged laughter. “Yeah, Jeb, I sure did. I invented a new way of harnessing magic power in a way everyday people can use it. Things are going great. Bram’s brewery is huge and we’re outfitting it with our inventions soon. Darlene’s pregnant and only has like a month to go. And I have a new friend, named Thomas, I met in Cloverton. He’s a master enchanter and together, he and Bram are unstoppable.”

Jeb raised an eyebrow. “Damn, sounds like everything’s going your way. I can’t believe you’re gonna be a dad. You even gonna have time for a kid?”

The question hit him like a ton of bricks. Wil had thought about it often, and the constant realization that he’d be a dad terrified and thrilled him. They’d spent so much time working, trying to race the pregnancy and get it done. Maybe he could afford to back off, and relax.

“I am,” said Wil. “Nothing’s more important than family. By the way, mom says you need to come home and visit! There’s no way you gave me crap about that and then went around and did the same thing.”

“That sounds like him,” said Arabella. “Perhaps he’ll get better as I further domesticate him. Declan’s been handling the Embassy well but I’ll dedicate some time in Harper Valley, and let your brother come home.”

Wil shook his head. Here she was talking like she owned Jeb and all his brother could do was grin like a fool. Whatever, that was none of his business. He opened his mouth to speak but a hand came down on his shoulder.

“There you are, Wil!” King Martinus chortled and shook him playfully. Wil fought to stay on his feet as his vision went out and his balance went upside down. “Getting a breath of fresh air, I see. C’mon, the party’s just getting started. I’ve got more wines to show you, and the loveliest collection of nymphs to share them with. Voices sweeter than sin.”

The thought of more alcohol made Wil’s stomach turn. He opened his mouth to protest, but the satyr king pulled him along by the arm. He looked over his shoulder at Jeb and Arabella. She grinned wickedly, while he gave Wil a mocking wave.

“I’m taken,” Wil managed to say before they went from the quiet of the balcony to the cacophony of the party. The king cackled like a maniac. Wil fished an anti-hangover potion from a pocket and quickly quaffed it.

Wil had a feeling he’d need a couple potions to survive the night.