The Tainted Web (The Godhunter, Book 7) (12 page)

“We may be small,” the pixie man started but Arach cut him off.

“
I've no doubt of the damage you could inflict, my friend,” Arach's smile was grim. “You are fire fey after all. I'm merely wondering how you will keep up. I think if you don't mind being carried, the redcaps will help you.”

“
As long as we get to the fight,” he shrugged, “it matters not how we arrive. We've a right to share in this kill.”

“
Yes,” Arach took a deep breath. “You do. I'll have a room prepared for you. Get your people settled in and then meet us back here at dusk for the Hunt.”

“
Yes, my King,” the man nodded and led Lissa away.

“
Arach?” I let him help me up.

“
Come, A Thaisce,” he put his hand to my lower back. “We need to mirror the High King.”

We took the stairs quickly, only stopping once so Arach could tell a goblin to have a room readied for the pixies. As we climbed, I pondered and shot questions at Arach intermittently.

“Tell me more about the pixies,” I thought back to when I'd accidentally injured Lissa with my flame. “You said before that they're fire fey but don't have enough magic to be immune to fire. That every kingdom has them but they are forced to live on the edges.”

“
The pixies are a race of fey who are treated more like vermin than faeries,” he glanced at me and I could see his reluctance to tell me something I'd probably hold against him. “Every element has a version of them but they hold little power and thus little magic. Though they are of fire, extreme flame such as your dragon's, can burn them. Just as the water pixies can swim and live in water but must surface for air occasionally.”

“
Like whales?” I stopped climbing the stairs in surprise.

“
Yes,” he smiled and urged me on. “Each group has a weakness that is frowned upon by the rest of us. It's why they live in the forest instead of among us and why the pixie male was so shocked that I invited them inside. Most houses would not have considered their feelings, much less their safety. Before I met you, I wouldn't have either.”

“
I know,” I said softly as I thought it through. “So they do have fire in them?”

“
Yes,” he nodded, “a little, more than I thought actually, if they wish to join the Wild Hunt. Just be careful where you aim your fire tonight and I'll be sure to warn the others.”

“
Okay,” I nodded as we rounded the corner into his bedroom. “So they couldn't live in the Fire Kingdom?”

“
They probably could,” Arach considered it, “but it would be dangerous for them. Although the castle would prove as a barrier to other dangers. It's up to them, I'll give them the option but I have a feeling they'll choose to go back to the forest.”

A light tinkling sound filled the air before we could reach the mirror and Arach glanced at me uneasily. He hurried forward and got to the mirror just as it hazed over and then cleared to show the scene of another room. The royal bedchambers.

“King Arach,” High King Cian sighed. “I'm glad I caught you near a mirror. I have troubling news.”

“
Kael has escaped?” I went to stand beside Arach.

“
Yes, how did you know?” Cian's eyes focused on me in surprise.

“
We have three dead pixies,” Arach growled. “Left before the castle like a challenge. All had the scent of kelpie upon them.”

“
Oh no,” Cian shook his head. “I'm sorry my warning comes too late.”

“
No,” Arach waved away the apology. “You tried and I thank you. The Host will ride tonight and resolve this matter. The kelpie is now a murderer and so belongs to us.”

“
Of course,” the High King inclined his head. “Let me know when the deed is done so that I may have some peace as well. I admit we haven't had much use for the prison in the roots but I'd thought them more reliable than this.”

“
Yes, of course, High King,” Arach nodded and the mirror cleared to show our own worried reflections staring back at us.

“
Why would Kael do this?” I frowned and turned away from the mirror.

“
He seeks revenge for his Queen,” Arach gave me his
duh
face.

“
No,” I shook my head, “I get that but if you wanted revenge, would you choose to wreak it upon pixies? Fey that most Houses wouldn't even care about, according to you.”

“
No,” he looked away, thoughtful.

“
Then lay them out like that?” I shook my head. “It doesn't seem like the actions of someone inflamed with anger, bent on revenge. It seems calculated, someone knew that you in particular would find the death of any of your people, pixies or not, offensive. They chose the little ones because they were the easiest means to an end. Does that sound like something a man mourning his lover would do?”

“
No,” he blinked. “It's odd but it must be Kael, the evidence points to it. It can't be a coincidence that he's just escaped.”

“
You're right but wouldn't you get your revenge quickly, I mean if you were cold enough to be calculating in it. Wouldn't you find the object of your hatred and avenge yourself upon it and then flee? I don't imagine he wants to go back to prison.”

“
He has nowhere to run to,” Arach said with satisfaction. “Even the water fey will not harbor him.”

“
Hmm,” I couldn't help feeling like we were missing something. “Yeah, I guess if you have nothing to lose, if revenge was all that was left before you inevitably were caught, then you'd want to take your time.”

“
Why are you even concerned about this?” He was pulling a trunk out from beneath the bed. “We will hunt by scent tonight. It will lead us to the murderer, be it Kael or another, and we will have our justice. If it's not Kael, the High King will hunt him down and perform a different kind of justice. Either way, we will be satisfied.”

“
I hope so,” I watched with wide eyes as he pulled some ancient looking bits of leather and metal from the trunk. “I could use some satisfaction.”

Chapter Seventeen

The Wild Hunt was an entirely different experience when you weren't the one being hunted.

I rode high on Arach's back, the leather and metal bits had been a harness he said hadn't been used since before his parents time. It held me tight to him so he didn't have to worry about me falling off while he was caught up in the chase.

To either side of me, fire fey flowed through the air in a sort of boiling roll that circulated the Host so everyone got their chance at being in front. The only exception was Arach and I, we remained in the central lead position and no one tried to overtake us.

Around us was a crackling mist, a result of the rampant magic that came rushing to the call of the horns, which expanded and contracted in thick tendrils like wraith fingers reaching from the grave. It propelled us forward, carrying those fey who couldn't otherwise fly, on violently sparking clouds that connected us to those who preferred to hunt on foot. Combined with the roll of movement, it looked as if the very air were belching forth the nightmares of Faerie.

The Hidden Ones were out of hiding ever since I'd been down to the caves to see them but they'd kept to the castle and still lived for the most part in their caves, believing that allowing the rest of Faerie to grow accustomed to their looks would lessen the fear of the Wild Hunt. I didn't think it was necessary, their self-enforced seclusion. No matter how many times you saw them wandering about in their day to day activities, when they rode across the sky like vengeance itself, you would not be immune.

Even after speaking with them, connecting with them through my love magic, the sight of them still unsettled me. I loved them now and it hurt a little to not feel completely comfortable around them but I also knew that they'd been made to be frightening. They were the dark side of Faerie, a side just as necessary as the light. Without them, the fey would be fearless, and fearless fey would be a disaster.

Faerie was about balance and the Hidden Ones did their part to keep that balance. When a faerie went bad, did something particularly naughty, they would ride with the Wild Hunt and bring death to the criminal. There was no judge or jury, no way to plead your case, and the Hidden Ones knew no mercy when they rode the night. If they were unleashed upon you, you were beyond hope.

I gave them a quick glance and shivered.
They were shaped in ways that shouldn't be possible, ways that made the mind shy away in self-preservation. The only safe way for a normal person to view them was in glimpses, small looks to showcase tentacles, hooves, glistening scales, and mottled skin. But even those small glances would haunt you, replaying things you didn't catch upon first look. The length of the clicking claws, the color of the slime that dripped from gaping maws, how their limbs bent in angles too horrifying to contemplate, making you wonder at their use.

They were made to be monsters but I loved them nonetheless. I knew them, knew the hearts that were hidden beneath the horror they had no choice in being, and knew that under the fur and armored shells, those hearts had similar wants and needs as any other.

The Wild Hunt was one of those needs.

They weren't the only ones who needed it either. I looked over at the leanan-sidehe, who flew on clouds of magic like witches upon brooms, and down to the extension of the Host that covered the ground. There was excitement written on every face, within every shriek and snarl.

Red caps leapt and raced, their pockets filled with pixies dressed for war. (A pocket full of pixies, there was a song in that somewhere.) Among them, the goblins, smaller cousins to the caps, chortled as they jumped and did an odd sort of dance/run thing through the forest. The phookas were growling, racing ahead and stopping every so often to sniff the air before heading on again with sure steps.

All together, the sound we made was a terrifying mix of snarls, growls, screeches, shrieks, and several types of laughter plus the background music of wings beating and feet tromping. It was not intended to be a silent attack. No, when the Host rode the night, they wanted their prey to know. They wanted their prey to run.

And he was running.

We weren't sure if it was Kael yet, all we'd seen so far was a few glimpses of pale skin and green hair, but Arach was right, it was definitely a kelpie. We'd flushed him out of a shallow pool where he'd holed up for the night and he'd been running ever since.

“There,” I shouted and pointed to a spot ahead. I'd caught the flash of shining skin through the trees. “Phookas,” I cried as Arach took us down closer to the earth. “Circle him!”

The fey dogs spaced out and disappeared through the Forgetful Forest, the mist clinging to them and following in their wake. We alighted and I unbuckled myself before sliding from Arach's back as the others dropped from the sky around us. We'd have Kael surrounded in minutes, it was time to end this.

We surged forward as one, the mass of faeries bearing me forward in an anxious, blood-thirsty rush. I felt my inner dragon rise to the call of the blood, demanding satisfaction for the wrongs done her people and myself. This was wild justice, primitive and barbaric, but it was necessary and I knew it like I knew I needed air to breathe.

We poured out into a clearing, finding Kael surrounded by snapping phookas as he held a sword defiantly before him, swinging it in a circle to keep the hounds at bay. When he saw us, he hesitated, his jaw going slack as we spread out to encircle him. Just as we shot forward, he lifted his sword. One final act of defiance in the face of death, and part of me applauded him for it.

Then the screaming started and for many hours afterward, I couldn't tell who it belonged to, him or I.

Chapter Eighteen

I was able to make it back to the castle before throwing up. A small miracle that I was nonetheless grateful for. The last thing the fire fey needed to see was their Queen so disgusted by their behavior that she lost the contents of her stomach all over the forest floor.

I had thought I was prepared for the bloodshed, had even thought I wanted it. I definitely knew it was what my people needed, what Arach needed to feel avenged, and I was no virgin to violence. I was the Godhunter after all. I knew all about beheading someone.

What I didn't know, what I had no understanding of at all, no matter the urges of the dragon inside me, was the gleeful destruction of another person. The slow, torturous dissection of another living creature done for pure delight. I'd killed before, sometimes in horrible ways, but though I'd had thoughts of torture, moments where I wanted to make someone suffer for something they'd done, I'd never indulged in those dark fantasies. Faced with the actuality of it, I realized I never could.