Faery Born (Book One in the War Faery Trilogy) (7 page)

BOOK: Faery Born (Book One in the War Faery Trilogy)
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‘Aethan.’ My voice cracked slightly as I whispered his name.

He lifted a hand towards my face. ‘Is that… goblin?’ he asked as he pulled a lump of flesh from my cheek.

For a second I had forgotten how I must look. My dress was ruined, my hair a mess and I had blood and gore all over me. ‘Possibly,’ I said, wriggling to get out from underneath him. This was
not
how I had wanted him to see me.

He held me down for a second longer and I had the absurd thought that he might kiss me. All right, so maybe I
wanted
him to kiss me. But he didn’t of course, and I flushed with embarrassment as I clambered to my knees.

There was no chance he would want to court me now after having seen me like this. I felt stupid for thinking that and stupid for caring and stupid for forgetting about the goblins.

And as for those goblins, well, it wasn’t possible they
hadn’t
heard us sliding down the hill, and Aethan and I had both tossed our weapons. We were defenceless.

He leant down and pulled a dagger from his boot.

Okay, so
I
was defenceless. I pushed my hair, which had totally escaped Sabby’s ministrations, back behind my ears, wincing at the feel of it; matted with twigs and blood, and I’m sure the occasional piece of goblin.

The lead goblin emerged a few seconds later. The other three weren’t far behind. I scanned the ground and picked up a branch, thwacking it against my hands a few times, partly to check it wasn’t rotten, but also to make myself feel tougher. It didn’t help much.

‘Keep moving,’ Aethan said to me. ‘Don’t let them pin you down.’

I had a second to think how weird it was that I felt like we had done this before – it felt very natural to be facing off against the goblins with him by my side, and then they were on us. Aethan danced to the left, slashing his dagger across one of their chests, opening up a trail of blood.

I have to admit that my hands were trembling as I backed across the field. Two of the goblins stalked towards me. One had the dreadlocks that seemed to be common amongst them, but the other had a mowhawk. Both had triumphant sneers on their faces.

A girl and a stick?

I didn’t stand a chance.

This wasn’t how I had envisioned spending my birthday, but strangely I found I preferred it to the thought of tottering around in those stupid shoes.

I dashed to the side, swinging my branch low at Mowhawk’s shins. It wasn’t at all what he had been expecting, and the wood had no impediment before it slammed into the tender tissue on top of the bone. He roared and swiped at me with his dagger, but I was already gone.

Dready closed the gap between us and plunged his weapon at my chest. I pivoted to the side, swinging the branch up to deflect his dagger. Hot pain flared in my arm as the tip of his blade sliced through tissue.

I let my momentum carry me around and my branch slammed into the side of his head. He wobbled unsteadily on his feet while he shook his head, his eyes narrowed in anger.

Mowhawk circled around behind me. I threw my stick into the air and cartwheeled forwards, uprighting in time to catch it with one hand.

I heard a grunt and looked over to where Aethan was fighting the other two. One of them was clutching the end of Aethan’s dagger where it emerged from his chest. Blood dribbled from his mouth as he sank to his knees. Aethan grabbed the longer weapon from the goblin’s hand and then wrenched the second one from its sheath.

‘Here,’ he said, tossing one of the blades to me.

I grabbed it out of the air and held it up between me and the approaching goblins.

Be a sabre, be a sabre.
I stared at it, willing it with all my might. But of course it stayed just as it was. I shook my head in frustration.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

The goblins spread out, one to each side of me, and then they attacked at the same time. I jumped into the air, wishing I could just stay up there out of their reach, and executed a foreword somersault. I landed so that they were both on the same side of me again. I couldn’t let them divide my attention. I had to make them attack me one at a time.

But of course
they
had realised that as well. I danced and jumped and cartwheeled and tumbled, trying to keep them from a double attack. It rankled that my plan was to hold them off long enough for Aethan to dispose of his second goblin. That would mean that he would get three and I, only one.

And then of course there was the ludicrousness of
that
thought. Who cared if he killed more goblins than I did?

He was trading blows with his goblin, throwing in punches and kicks around his blade strikes. He was mesmerising to watch as he flowed across the field. I tore my gaze away from him. I couldn’t do with any distractions, or staring at him would be the last thing I did.

It was all very well to stay out of their reach, but I was starting to tire. They were getting closer and closer the slower I got. I parried a blow and swiped at Dready’s neck with my blade. He ducked and I caught the top of his head, jarring my wrist as I sliced through to bone. Blood ran freely from the cut, down his forehead and into his eyes. He dashed at it with one hand, growling angrily.

I turned my attention to Mowhawk, but I was too slow. He laughed wickedly as he grabbed my blade arm. I batted at him with the branch in my left hand but he was too close for me to do any real damage. He twisted my wrist till a bone cracked. I screamed in agony, the dagger dropping from my useless fingers.

I kicked him in the shins and tried to pull my arm away but he tightened his grip, pressing his fingers between the broken bits of bone. Red clouded my vision as I fought to stay conscious.

So, this was it.

This was how I was going to die.

I’d had a lot to be thankful for: Mum, Grams and Sabby. I wished I’d had more time with all of them. And well Aethan – I ripped my gaze away from the goblin’s feral snarl and looked over at Aethan. I
definitely
wished I’d had some time with him.

He was in the process of finishing off the goblin he was fighting, but it wasn’t going to be in time to save me.

I closed my eyes as Mowhawk raised his arm to deliver the killing blow. But it never came. He grunted and then gurgled. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. Blood ran freely down his neck from a wound at his throat.

I yanked out of his grip and staggered back a couple of steps, nursing my wounded hand to my chest. His eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground.

Meanwhile, Dready was battling a white demon. I hardly recognised Scruffy with his lips drawn back and his hackles up. He leapt and sharp teeth tore a chunk out of Dready’s thigh. Blood stained his muzzle pink.

I dropped the branch and picked up the dagger with my left hand. Trying to ignore the pain in my other arm, I stalked the goblin. Distracted by Scruffy he was an easy target. I waited until he kicked out at my familiar and then I drove the blade at the side of his neck.

The aim of my left arm wasn’t as true as my right and I missed his neck. Instead, the tip of the dagger drove deep into his ear. The dagger stuck, wedged in the bones of his head, and he fell forwards, dead before he hit the ground.

I had to remember that strike for next time – suddenly sure there
would
be a next time.

Scruffy crossed to my side and sat down, a big smile on his fluffy face as he stared up at me. ‘Ruff,’ he said.

‘Thanks.’ I bent down and scratched him behind the ears. I didn’t know who looked more disgusting, him or me.

‘I think that makes it two to me, one to you and one to your pink dog,’ Aethan said as he strode over to us.

I snorted. ‘Scruffy and I work as a team. It’s two all.’

‘That’s going to hurt later,’ he said, nodding his head at my arm.

‘What do you mean,
later?’
A sharp throb was radiating up my arm to my shoulder. It was somewhere between extremely painful and excruciating, but I didn’t want to look like a wimp in front of Aethan.

I walked beside him to where the rest of the Border Guard was standing. They had dealt with the remaining goblins while we had been fighting. Wilfred looked over at us and yelled. ‘I made ten.’

‘Ten?’ Aethan said. ‘Even Izzy got more than that.’

One of the other men snorted and said, ‘Yeah, and she’s a girl.’

‘I don’t mind being beaten by a girl,’ Wilfred said, his voice full of fake pompousness, ‘as long as it’s Isadora.’

Isadora? How did he know my full name?

‘Actually,’ I said, staring at him (Did I know him?), ‘my Grandmother got eleven.’

The men broke out into raucous laughter as Wilfred’s face took on a rueful look. One of them clapped his hands together and said, ‘Right, back to business.’

Him, I recognised. The long scar running down his face was hard to forget.

He strode over to Aethan. ‘How many of ours?’ he asked.

It took me a second to realise what he was talking about.

‘We lost Backo,’ Aethan said, running a hand through his hair. ‘And Grant and Steve are pretty badly injured.’

‘Civilian casualties?’

‘Two down here and one outside the bakery. Poor bastard didn’t even see them coming.’

Three? Oh Great Dark Sky, three dead?

Eynsford was a small village; small enough that everybody knew everybody, and now three of us were dead. Anger washed over me, and for a moment I forgot about the pain in my arm.

How dare they? How dare they come here and attack innocent people?

I clenched and unclenched my good fist as the pressure grew inside me. I wanted revenge, I wanted to hunt them all down and make them pay for what they had done. I wanted to find them and rip out their black hearts.

‘I want to join the Border Guard.’ I was surprised when the words poured out of my mouth.

‘Do you now?’ The man with the scar gave me a hard look. ‘You know you can’t wear dresses in the Border Guard.’

‘Even better,’ I said.

‘You have to be eighteen to join.’

I gestured to where the marquee sat slumped on the ground. Crushed presents mingled with table decorations, and my Happy Birthday sign lay trampled into the dirt.

‘Happy Birthday,’ he said with a totally straight face.

‘Come on Rako,’ Wilfred yelled from where he was sorting through goblin bodies, ‘stop being an arse.’

The very edge of Rako’s mouth pulled up slightly. ‘Well, okay. But only because we’re a little short at the moment.’

I felt the pressure dissipate a little. I wanted blood and I wanted it
now,
but this was better than nothing. At least now I had a chance of exacting revenge.

Scruffy trotted to Rako and sat at his feet. He looked up at him and whined.

‘You’re a dog,’ Rako said.

Scruffy let out a bark and growled. He leapt on a nearby stick and wrestled with it, finally breaking it in two. He looked up at Rako, his tongue hanging out in a doggy grin.

‘You’re pink,’ Rako said. ‘We’ll be a laughing stock with a pink dog in our ranks.’

Scruffy sat down and started to groom himself. He unfortunately started with his privates. I scooped him up with my good arm and said, ‘he’ll be white. I promise.’

Rako’s lip pulled a little higher. ‘I want him fridge-door white.’

‘The best I can do is I-had-a-bath-yesterday-but-it-rained-today white.’

Rako snorted. ‘It’ll do. Enlistment’s on Monday at eight.’

He turned and walked to the growing pile of goblin bodies and all of a sudden Aethan and I were alone.

‘Sorry ‘bout your hand,’ I said. He had a red, crescent bruise on the soft tissue between his thumb and first finger. It would have fitted my teeth perfectly.

He looked down at his hand and shrugged. ‘That’s the least of my worries,’ he said.

We stared at each other, an awkward silence ballooning between us.
What worries? Should I say something about the courting thing?

‘I better…’ He glanced over to where the rest of the Guard were working.

‘Yeah, I better let Mum and Grams know I’m alive.’ I was ashamed I hadn’t thought of that before. They’d be worried sick by now. Well, Mum would be. Grams would be too busy telling stories to notice I was still gone.

He opened his mouth as if to say something but then just nodded stiffly and trotted over to help Wilfred lift a body.

‘If I wasn’t confused before,’ I said to Scruffy, ‘I certainly am now.’ I placed him on the ground and headed back to the house.

 

***

 

Mum was in a total state when she opened the door. ‘Oh thank the Great Dark Sky,’ she said, throwing her arms around me.

I gritted my teeth in pain as she pulled me to her. It only lasted a second though before she pushed me away and pointed her finger at me. ‘You are in such trouble young lady. I thought you were dead.’ Her finger twitched in time with her words.

‘I told you she’d be fine,’ Grams called from the kitchen.

Mum peered back towards Gram. ‘I haven’t finished with you,’ she said.

Sabby was hovering behind Mum staring at me with her mouth wide open. ‘Your hair,’ she said. ‘Your make-up. Your
dress.
What did you do to that dress?’

I pushed carefully past them. Now that the endorphins were fading my arm was
really
starting to hurt.

‘What is that stuff all over you?’ she continued.

‘Goblin’s brains,’ Grams called out.

‘You don’t
know
it was brains,’ I said.

The Dickson Twins, Layla, Nancy and Betty were perched on chairs around the table. Layla searched my expression, her face white and pinched.

‘Bobby’s safe,’ I said.

She gasped and sagged backwards, tears of relief falling from her lashes.

‘I told you to look after Scruffy,’ I said to Mum.

She looked down at my feet and started as if seeing him for the first time. ‘But…’ She pointed into the kitchen.

A small, white dog lay curled up on Scruffy’s bed. His legs moved spasmodically and he whimpered in his sleep.

I looked from my pink familiar to the other one. Scruffy trotted over to the bed and stood next to his counterpart. Light seemed to bend around him and then suddenly, he was gone. The dog on the bed opened his eyes, stretched and shook himself. His coat was tinged the faintest of pinks.

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