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Now, she would be ready if the opportunity arose.
The formation warned that a wolven had been seen in the area.
Phillipa steeled herself, scanning the garden to make sure she was alone. As far as she knew, the wolven had never come this close to the garden. Most of the attacks had taken place deep in the forest, a place that the fae urged her not to go. It wasn’t safe for anyone.
This news made the invite even more crucial. She picked up two of the prettiest stones—one clear and one mauve, and rubbed them together. Most mere mortals wouldn’t hear the sound, but the last thing she hoped to attract was a mortal.
She needed magic.
A breeze blew through the garden, and the hidden door in the bark of the tree at the end of the path opened. A faerie fluttered out, and as much as Phillipa was relieved to see her friend, her confidante and her guide in this new world, something was wrong. Very, very wrong.
Ainslee landed in Phillipa’s open palm. The fairy was as tall as the human’s forearm and as light as a whisper, with energy that never stayed still. Her wings, sparkling pink and iridescent under the best of circumstances were drab and brown, drooping, and camouflaged to the color of the bark of her home. Her skin was the color of bathwater instead of the pearlescent that it usually was on a bright, sunny day.
Phillipa gasped at her friend’s appearance. “Are you well, Ainslee? Did something happen to you?”
“As well as I can be. There was another attack last night. Three fae did not survive. Two more are fighting for their lives,” she said.
“No!” Phillipa exclaimed. “I’m so sorry. What can I do to help?”
“You should go back to your home. It’s not safe for you to be here, Phillipa. The Wolven King is getting bolder. Fae are an easy target, and our magic cannot hold him off. We may flee. If we are not here, there’s no telling who he might attack next.”
“No! You must stay,” Phillipa said quickly, and guilt rushed in when her friend’s appearance darkened to the color of mud. “This is your forest. This horrible wolven, who’s arrived and declared himself king, has no right to drive you away.”
“I agree, but the Wolven King, unfortunately, thinks otherwise.” Ainslee’s wings fluttered and she did a perfunctory check of the flowers, which nevertheless rose to greet her, no matter how dire her appearance. “There are only so many more fae we can let him sacrifice.”
“Why fae?” A giant wolven—at least by Ainslee’s possibly unreliable account—couldn’t possibly sustain himself with the tiny creatures. It would much more efficient if he attacked larger animals, even humans, unless he was lame. “It doesn’t make sense.”
“Some of the elders theorize that he wants our magic. That he needs our powers for something he cannot achieve himself.” She shook her head with disgust.
Phillipa had heard all the old tales of how fae magic could be borrowed to solve a host of human problems, but the wolven wasn’t interested in giving it back. He was stealing, and he had to be stopped. “I have a solution.”
“Just give him our magic?” Ainslee scoffed, and folded her tiny arms over her chest. “That’s what the elders suggest. I, for one, refuse. This…beast…doesn’t deserve our power. It’s the first time in history that some of us are willing to defy our elders. This wolven will tear us apart if he doesn’t kill us all first.”
“That will not happen.”
“Then what is your solution?” Ainslee flew closer. “Poison? Perhaps a trap? Dark magic? Those are the things I proposed. But the more he strikes fear in the heart of the woodland fae, the weaker our magic becomes. We’re using so much energy simply to hide from him. Hiding! The shame. But those who’ve tried to stop him have paid with their lives. He’s drained them down to nothing. He’s too big, too strong for us to fight. Too feral.”
“Phillipa!” Margaret’s voice rang out in the distance.
Time was running out before she was summoned back to the house and asked to dress for dinner. Even if she’d ignored the Season, she wouldn’t be able to ignore the pomp and circumstance of Bernadette’s upcoming wedding. There would be a dinner tonight with the Count’s family and plans to be made.
So many plans.
Phillipa had no idea how she would get through it without seeing the ghost of her beloved everywhere.
But now she had plans of her own.
Often, she thought about what Wesley would want her to do. Home and family were of utmost importance to him. Would he want her to smile and nod through this painful dinner, or would he want her to help her new woodland friends, the ones who’d offered her comfort in his absence?
He would want her to stop the Wolven King, even if it meant defying her mother. How dare this beast take over this beautiful forest and destroy at will?
“Tell me about the Wolven King,” Phillipa said. She needed as many details as the fae could give her before Margaret intervened. “What does he look like? Why is he so angry?”
Ainslee furrowed her little brow. “He’s huge and horrible and his teeth are bigger than a fae child. Those fangs are sharp and deadly and he’s an abomination to this forest. He wants our magic, and when he can’t get it, he destroys whatever he can get his hands on, in a big wolf tantrum.”
“I know that. But what does helooklike?”
Ainslee tipped her head. “Why do you want to know?”
