Crimes of the Fae: Queens of the Fae: Books 4-6

Chapter 3

Chapter Three

A stabbing pain shot through Griffin’s side, and he came up swinging, fearing he was still in the king’s fighting pits.

“Calm down, you big baby, it was just the first stitch.” Shauna pushed him back down on the table in her kitchen—a kitchen where he’d eaten most of his meals since his arrival in Myrkur. The day he’d stepped through the border magic that separated the three fae realms from the prison world, Shauna basically saved his life. She’d brought him to her home before the king’s guards could take him to the castle. As a new arrival, he would have had a rough initiation into Myrkur society as an indentured servant.

She’d guided him through the mountain pass where it grew darker and darker until they arrived in a land where the sun never shone.

“Are you trying to flay me alive, Shauna?” Griffin grit his teeth as she bent over his injured side.

“No, the king’s favorite did that for you. Hold still, you’ve got a gaping hole in your side.” A frown marred her face as she went about her work. Even after ten years without magic, his first instinct was to call on his power to ease his pain.

“This is how the humans do it.” He reached for the bottle of spirits she’d used to clean his wounds, taking a long drink before she wrestled it away from him.

“That’s my last bottle.” She set it back down and passed him a wineskin instead. “Tell me one of your humantales. It will distract you.” Shauna had lived her whole life in Myrkur and stories of humans were as bizarre to her as fairytales were to humans.

“It’s more likely to entertain you than distract me.” Griffin glanced down at the long gash from arm pit to waist, hoping it would grow numb soon.

“Humor me.” Shauna leaned closer to see in the candlelight. He hated to waste her candles. They were such a precious commodity in their small community.

“They have this place,” Griffin began. “A sort of tavern called McDonald’s.”

“And this Mr. McDonald serves good ale?” Shauna asked, stabbing her needle through his skin again.

“No ale.” He winced, taking another drink from the wineskin. “He serves a sort of sweet, bubbly drink called Coke. Ice cold and refreshing on the hottest days.”

“Your humantales always revolve around food and drink.” Shauna’s stomach gurgled.

“But that’s not the best thing Mr. McDonald serves.” Griff sneaked one last sip of her spirits. “The food. Oh, Shauna, the food is divine at McDonald’s. Cheeseburgers and fried potatoes with ketchup and salt.”

“I know what cheese and salt is, but that’s about it,” Shauna murmured.

“Imagine thick slabs of meat between slices of soft bread and melted cheese with onions and pickles. And ketchup is this tangy tomato sauce that makes everything taste better. And for the kids.” He turned and smiled at her, the spirits warming his face. “They have Happy Meals that come with a toy.”

“Now you’re just making things up.” Shauna shook her head with a smile.

“I’m completely serious.”

“This Mr. McDonald can just afford to give away toys with a meal?”

“The human world has so many wonderful things. I used to think I could never give up magic to live there, but I’ve since changed my mind.” He winced as she pulled her thread tight. “Tell me she’s okay, Shauna.”

“Nessa? Of course she’s as right as rain, tucked into her bed, dreaming of her hero, the great Griffin O’Shea.” She smoothed his hair back from his face. “Thank you for bringing my sister home safely. Even…” She sucked in a breath. “Even though she eavesdropped on our conversations and relayed parts to the king.”

“She’s just a kid. I can’t hold that against her. You know I’d do anything for you two, but I sure thought I was going to fail this time. How did I get out of there alive?”

“Gulliver, who else?” She went back to her stitching.

“Of course.” Griffin sighed. The boy was going to find himself at the end of a hangman’s noose one of these days.

“After you passed out, the guards dumped you and Nessa in the slums outside the castle gates. Gullie found you just as some scumbag was trying to take off with Nessa. He stole a cart, and they managed to get you in it and pushed you all the way back here before you could bleed to death. It took them most of the night.”

“Guess I should probably go easy on the boy.”

“Seeing as he saved your life, probably so.”

“Where is he now?”

“I fed him some scraps for dinner and sent him to bed an hour ago.”

Griffin scoffed. “I’ve never known that boy to do anything he’s told. He’s probably out skulking around for his breakfast, the little thief.”

“You take good care of him, Griff. You take good care of all of us in Fela.”

“That’s not how it works, and you know it. In Fela, we take care of each other.” Their village was unlike any other in all of Myrkur. Those in the castle lived well on the king’s wealth. The indentured who served him … did not. And the ones who refused to work for the king, or were cast out as useless, lived in slums and poor villages throughout the kingdom, each doing the best they could to survive.

Not everyone in the prison realm was a criminal. There were good fae here. Some were born in Myrkur—the descendants of those criminals sent here from generations past. And some were sent here for small crimes, while others were the Dark Fae of Myrkur, imprisoned here in their home realm long ago simply because they were different from other fae, the Light Fae Griffin had always known.

When he first arrived in Fela, it barely qualified as a town. But it always had one thing all the other places lacked. People who still cared about each other’s well-being and weren’t simply out for themselves. In the years since, Fela had grown into a community where everyone worked together for the good of all their citizens—right under the king’s nose. Hidden among the rockiest mountains of Myrkur, the valley they called home was known only to those who lived there.

“You nearly done?” Griffin’s words slurred a bit from the drink. He wasn’t much of a drinker anymore. Once upon a time, when he lived among royalty, he drank nothing but the sweetest wine. It was much harder to come by here, and he’d lost his taste for it.

“Not yet, keep drinking. We’re going to be here for a while longer,” Shauna murmured, focused on her task.

“Where’s Hector?”

“At his mother’s. Hush now, I need to focus.” She prodded his arm, pulling the mangled flesh back together as best she could.

“When’s he going to make an honest woman of you?” Griffin took a long pull from the wineskin, grateful his side had grown numb.

“He has a family to take care of already, and I have Nessa. The little ones need him now that his father is gone.”

“So, you’re both going to sacrifice your youth to care for your families and not seek a little happiness for yourselves?”

“We are happy in our own way, Griff. And we don’t need any more mouths to feed.”

“I’m just saying you love him, Shauna. You deserve to be together. He’s a good man, and I only say that because I am drunk. On any other day, I’d say no man is good enough for you.”

Shauna snorted, pulling her thread tight again.

“Are you done yet, or do you intend to knit a sweater out of my hide? I’d like to sleep in my own bed at some point tonight,” Griffin said with a grimace.

“You’ll sleep on the floor in front of the fire when I’m done with you. You can go home after I’m sure there’s no infection. But you will hold still if you ever want to move properly again. There is muscle damage here.”

“That damnable Slyph woman and her sharp sword.” He growled as Shauna tied off the last of her stitches and splashed mineral spirits across the inflamed wound before she wrapped it with clean linens.

“You’ll heal, you stubborn lout.” She stood to stretch her tired limbs. “And just where do you think you’re going?” She eyed him as he tried to stand.

“I need to check on Gullie.”

“Gulliver is fine. You can check on him after you’ve had your tea.” She moved to her small counter where she crushed herbs and made potions for everyday ailments for her family and their neighbors. She was both midwife and healer for their small community, and she’d worked hard to learn her craft from her mother before she passed.

“Fine.” Griffin shoved off the rough-hewn table and staggered to the rocking chair across the room by the fireplace. The room started to spin as he collapsed into the chair.

“Drink this.” Shauna shoved a warm cup of herbal tea into his hands.

“Mmm.” He took a long sip and sighed, leaning his head back. “You shouldn’t waste your honey on me.”

“It tastes awful without the honey.” She propped his feet up on a stool and checked his bandages.

“Stop fussing over me, I’m fine.” He sipped the fragrant tea, letting its warmth ease his tensed body.

“Thank you for saving Nessa, Griff.” She leaned down to kiss his forehead. “But don’t you dare get yourself killed, you hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He slurred and frowned. “What’d you put in the tea, Shauna?”

“Just a little concentrated lavender and elderflower syrup to help you sleep, so you don’t run off when I’m not looking and re-injure yourself.”

“Shauna.” He groaned, his eyes drooping.

“Hush and finish your tea so you can sleep and let your body heal.”

Griffin leaned his head back against the headrest and did as she said.

“Night, Shauna,” he murmured as she went to find her own bed.

Griffin gazed around the small room that was as familiar to him as his own home a stone’s throw from Shauna’s door. It was funny how it had taken a prison sentence to give him a life he could be proud of. They didn’t have riches or power, or even magic, but they had what mattered. Friendship. Community and family. And that gave him a reason to get up in the mornings. Still, Myrkur wasn’t the kind of land dreams were made of. Far from it. It was always night in the realm of the Dark Fae. And that meant precious little grew here, so they relied on the few crops they could cultivate, hunting and gathering. Whatever they didn’t have, they either went without or improvised.

It wasn’t always that way for the people of Myrkur. Only a few generations ago it was a land like all the other fae realms. A kingdom of its own, ruled by the Dark Fae kings who were good to their people. But the Dark Fae didn’t always get along well with the Light Fae. Particularly those from Fargelsi, where Griffin grew up. For the Dark Fae, their magic came from their defining characteristics that allowed them the power to fly or the ability to see in the dark or a host of other physical traits that made them different.

Over the years, Griffin had pieced together the history of how Myrkur had become a prison realm. Queen Sorcha O’Rourke of Fargelsi—Queen Regan’s grandmother—was often at war with the Dark Fae kingdom who shared a border with her far to the north. She persecuted those Dark Fae within her borders.

Her persecution grew so heinous that the other fae realms, Iskalt and Eldur fought against her in a great war that no one outside Myrkur could remember. To protect the Dark Fae from annihilation, a treaty was signed among the four kingdoms, agreeing to isolate Myrkur behind a barrier spell to protect the Dark Fae from Queen Sorcha and those like her. To save the last of his people, the Dark Fae king agreed, and the boundary spell was erected around Myrkur, utilizing the magic of Fargelsi, Eldur, and Iskalt—only Queen Sorcha changed her part of the spell, causing everyone outside the boundary to forget those on the other side. In the generations since, Myrkur came to be known simply as the prison realm—a place fae criminals were sent as punishment for their crimes, knowing the world and all those who loved them would forget they ever existed.

In the years after the boundary went up, the Dark Fae began to thrive again in their own kingdom. But there were many who hated the king for agreeing to the boundary, and a rebellion ensued. Anarchy and chaos reigned for years until a new king seized the throne. King Egan’s grandfather. Under the Byrne Kings, Myrkur had become exactly what Queen Sorcha wanted it to be, a prison.

Griffin’s eyes drooped as he set his empty mug aside. His belly was warm, if not full, and his mind fuzzy from Shauna’s herbs. He fell into a dreamless, peaceful slumber in front of the fire.

He hadn’t slept long when the back door crashed open. Griffin was on his feet before he was fully awake.

“Get inside you little thief, before Chieftain Kvek’s men come to drag you to the gallows.” Hector marched Gulliver into the kitchen by the scruff of his neck.

“What’s he done now?” Griffin yawned, ignoring the ache in his side.

“Stole a hoard of food from the Chieftain of Drykur.” Hector crossed his arms over his chest, letting out a snort of disapproval. With his great bullhorns and the ring in his nose, Hector was an intimidating presence.

“Just a couple of eggs and a ham.” Gulliver squirmed in Hector’s grip, the flat of his tail thumping against his captor’s chest. “That greedy old Kvek had at least forty hams in his smoke house, he ain’t going to miss one, is he?” Gulliver broke free of Hector’s hold.

“Just a ham and eggs?” Griffin stared down his long nose at his charge. “Empty your pockets.”

“Come on, Griff, the old toad doesn’t need all that food.” Gulliver pulled a dozen eggs from his hat and a smoked ham he’d tucked inside his worn coat.

“It doesn’t matter how much Chieftain Kvek has. The point is that food isn’t yours, and it’s not worth your life to risk taking what doesn’t belong to you.”

“But look at it, Griff. It smells so good.” Gulliver stared at the ham, practically drooling. The flat, leaf-shaped end of his tail tapped against Griffin’s face. “You can’t tell me we’re not going to eat it. Besides, you brought Nessa back home. I thought a nice breakfast feast would be a good way to thank you.”

“Gullie.” Griffin bent to Gulliver’s level. “Next time you want to thank me, just do your chores.”

“What’s he done now?” Shauna shuffled into the kitchen, her hands on her hips.

“Stealing food, as usual.” Griffin folded his arms across his chest, trying to keep a stern frown on his face.

“You listen to me, young man.” Shauna cuffed him on the back of the head. “When you stay at my house and I send you to bed, you stay in that bed until you’re called for. You don’t sneak out. Griffin almost died trying to save Nessa, and that’s the thanks you give him?” She tapped her foot on the stone floor as Gulliver hung his head in shame. His long wiry tail thrashed in agitation behind him.

“And don’t flick that tail around my kitchen either.” Shauna went to brew a pot of tea.

Gulliver grabbed his tail, and the end of it snaked around his arm, twitching with his pent up frustration. Gullie could never hide his feelings. His tail gave him away every time.

“Empty your pockets,” Griffin repeated.

“I did.” Gulliver’s voice went up a few octaves.

“Your other pockets are bulging, Gullie.” Griffin pressed his lips together.

Heaving a sigh, Gulliver pulled a loaf of bread from his coat pocket, followed by a wedge of cheese and a string of sausages from under his shirt.

“Bring your mother and sisters over, Hector.” Shauna settled a skillet on the stovetop. “They can help us eat the evidence.”