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The silence was deafening, with only the steady sound of water dripping from bough to ground to mark our passing. The sky vanished—the overhanging trees thick with needles and cones, branches entwining across the path to blot out the sky. Everywhere I turned, I smelled moss and mushrooms, tree pitch, and the sweet tang of freshly turned earth.
And peat. Again, I smelled the bog.
The Bog Eater. It had to be him; he had to be near.
Delilah paused, then moved away from my side. A shimmer surrounded her as she began to change, and I realized she was turning back into her two-footed shape. Something must have caught her attention that she needed to tell me about. Or perhaps she just felt more secure.
As she shifted back, I gave her a moment to catch her breath, then asked, “What is it? Did you sense something?”
She nodded, and in a low voice whispered, “We’re being followed. There’s something behind us.”
I slowly turned, cautious, my hand reaching for the unicorn horn. Behind us, I could only see the undergrowth through which we’d come, thick and unmoving. But when I let out a slow stream of breath and lowered myself into trance, I could sense someone out there. Someone old. Someone powerful. Someone not a god, but more powerful than we were.
I glanced at Delilah, trying to figure out what to do. Confront them? If they meant no harm, why weren’t they out in the open? Unless they were nervous about what we wanted. If they were going to attack us, would we be able to throw them off their guard by calling them out?
Delilah waited, ready to follow my lead. I readied a spell, calling on the energy of the Moon Mother to channel through my body. Her presence was heavy here, too, and I realized that anywhere the wild reigned, I would find her.
After the lightning filtered down into my body, I sucked in another deep breath and stepped forward. “Show yourself. We know you’re there.”
Delilah readied her iron knife, wrinkling her nose.
A moment later, the bushes parted and out stepped a thin boy. He was full Fae, that was obvious, and glorious in his beauty, but he was like no Fae I’d seen before. He might stand on two feet, with two arms and one head, but he was far from human looking. Antlers rose from his forehead—a small rack with three tines on each side. His eyes were slanted, with the faintest of lids, and wide set to the point of making his face look top heavy. His hair flowed to his butt, rich brown, and he wore what looked like torn jeans, cut off at the knees, and no shirt. His abs were defined and he was buff, but not heavily muscled.
“Who are you?” I gazed into his face and realized he was far, far older than we were, but he still seemed like a boy.
He let out a garbled cry, then leaped toward us, landing in a crouch at my feet. He reached out to touch my feet, and I cautiously let him, trying to avoid being poked by the tips of his antlers. Delilah poised to put a stop to him if he attacked.
“Aeval—Aeval . . .” His voice was guttural, and I could barely understand what he was saying, but I knew he’d called me by the Dark Queen’s name.
“No. I am not Aeval,” I started to say, but stopped as Delilah fervently shook her head. I paused, realizing he hadn’t understood me. Or if he had, he showed no sign of it.
“Aeval . . . Q’n da dir.” And then he snorted, like an animal, and stood to face me, his eyes luminous and glimmering and crafty. He reached out and placed his hand on my wrist, and slowly began to slide his fingers up my arm.
Nervous now, not sure what he was getting at, I glanced over at Delilah. He might seem young, but that was illusion. And he looked far stronger than me. As I waited, poised to go on the defense, he leaned close and sniffed long and hard at my neck. As he neared my skin, I reared back; I could feel the gnashing of his teeth right behind those closed, full lips.
His eyes turned bloodred, and he let out a loud screech and began to dance around me. I jumped over to Delilah’s side.
“What the fuck?” She held up her knife and he stopped, sniffing in the blade’s general direction. With a snarl, he shifted from one foot to the other.
“I don’t know. I told you, the things in here are not human. The Elder Fae are as far from our people as we are from . . . well . . . the people of Aladril. Who knows what thousands of years has done to them?”
Antler-Boy was gnashing his teeth now, dancing from foot to foot, glaring at the knife. He knew what iron was, that much was obvious, and it didn’t make him happy.
“I have no clue what he wants,” I said, trying to keep my voice even.
Delilah lunged forward, waving the blade at him. He dodged to the side, quick as a cat. She countered, and he took another couple steps back. “I sense Chase is in the general area, but I don’t know quite where. We can’t just leave.”
“This one would follow us anyway. It’s obvious he’s latched onto us for some reason. And I don’t trust him. He may have the antlers of a deer or elk, but he’s got something behind that mouth—I keep sensing nasty teeth waiting to rip me to shreds.”
I gazed into his eyes and once again fell into his beauty. Beauty? No, it was more of a glamour. “He’s trying to charm me.” I turned on my own, lowering my masks so my Fae heritage shone forth.
He blinked, rearing back. “Aeval? Heh . . .” And then the shifting movements began again, as if he were dancing to a hidden beat, or—like a shark—couldn’t stay still.
“He seems to be fixated on you as Aeval,” Delilah said, cocking her head to one side. “As if he thinks only Aeval could have glamour?”
“Maybe Aeval is the only woman he’s seen?” I motioned to her. “Let down your glamour. See what he does.”
And so Delilah unmasked herself, too. And Antler-Boy gazed from her face to mine, back to hers, looking disconcerted. He backed away another step, looking less certain.
