AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He laughed at my questions as if they were silly or naïve questions posed by a child who didn’t understand how the world worked yet. Which was true enough. I knew nothing about how faery worked.
“We will get along better if you do not provoke me or waste our precious time with such tiresome banter, mage Sera Lowe. Allow me to tend to your wounds, or else suffer the consequences of further injury from my hand as I wait for you to comply with my wishes.”
“You could at least tell me your name?” I asked.
The old fae pulled himself up to his full height, almost matching my own. “You may call me Vedreel.”
Vedreel’s hand hovered over my arm, and I flinched from the expected pain. But then, to my surprise, I felt no further discomfort as he worked his magic on my wounds. Within seconds, the agony of the burns had faded away.
“Thank you” I said, rubbing my arms to help bring sensation back into them. “Can you tell me why you brought me here?”
“There are some things you need to know which only I can show you.”
The manticore bellowed behind us, and I turned to watch it shake its massive shaggy head as its roar transformed into a whine.
“Oh yes, oh my,” Vedreel said, fumbling in his mossy layered outfit. “Patience, Miriss!”
The manticore bellowed again, and I had to throw my hands over my ears to manage the deafening sound.
Vedreel produced a clump of something from his deep pockets that I didn’t want to hazard naming, raised it to his nose, and sniffed it cautiously. He recoiled, but then nodded and threw it over to the manticore, who huffed in appreciation, gobbling it down.
My brain put two and two together. “Miriss is your pet?”
“Yes, of course. He’s a very good beast, isn’t he?” he baby-talked to the manticore, who let out a short bark of affirmation.
Miriss yowled something, almost as if it were talking and making sense, before turning and wandering off the way we’d arrived. I was just happy to see the fanged creature leave.
“I doubt you would have found me on your own,” Vedreel continued. “I’m sure you have too much sense to wander the marshes alone.”
So he’d orchestrated my arrival here? I mean, of course he had. But why?
“So, what’s this about things you need to show me?” I asked him, but he didn’t answer. “What’s something only you, who lives in faery and who I also get the impression doesn’t get out of this swamp much, know about little ole me?”
He arched his brow at me and pursed his lips as if he were a teacher admonishing a slow student. “That’s the question.”
Vedreel turned and crossed the marsh, clearly expecting me to follow.
I hurried to catch up, slogging my way through the sucking mud. Curiously, the fae had no issues walking through the marsh and moved as easily as I might on concrete.
“What do you think you know about me?” I asked.
“I know you are a mage of great power, yet your magic has been difficult for you to control. Am I correct?”
I had that shivering feeling run over my scalp and down the back of my neck. “Yeah, but how did you know that?” I asked.
We’d reached the far side of a pool and clambered up onto a gentle hillock. The mud fell away from my boots and I said a silent thanks for the break from the muddy marshland. A large willow tree spread overhead, its leaves shimmering and swaying in the breeze.
Vedreel turned and faced me, his expression grave. “Because it is the same for all mages with similar lineage. The magic within you is wild and feral, thus you struggle to tame it.”
“How could you know that? Or even, anything about me?” I blurted out. I’d confessed my magical challenges to my mates, but otherwise my problems had been a closely guarded House Lowe secret spoken to no one. Yet this fae living in a marsh near the Summer Court in faery knew all about it? Something didn’t add up.
“Clean living,” the fae answered, deadly serious.
I looked him over, understanding he wasn’t referring to dirt, but some temperance or abstinence that might only make sense to a fae. I let that one pass.
“How is your knowledge of my magical mayhem supposed to help me?”
“I’m taking you back to your roots,” he proclaimed, tapping his staff on the ground near where the oak met the mossy ground. “So you can see the truth for yourself.”
