Page 12 of Dark Fate

His words hit with the sobering slap of reality. My heart's itching to go all 'smash and grab,' but that’s page one of the 'How to Die Young and Stupidly' handbook. Rhyland and Lucian deserve more than me flying off the handle.

I breathe, taming the storm inside, my resolve hardening. "Okay. We’re not storming the castle gates. So lay it on me, Gandalf. What's your wizard-level stratagem?"

Faderyn looks at me, then hesitates before adding, "Queen Amara is malicious but adheres to court codes of honor. Presenting yourself formally to request an audience may be our wisest course. Approaching candidly and respecting her station could persuade her to deal fairly. But you need proper courtly attire and etiquette not to offend." His gaze turns serious. "Axilya can craft you into the lady they won’t dismiss. Your inner light needs no adornment, but their ways demand formality."

"Who is Axilya? Can she be trusted?" I probe, thoughts racing.

Faderyn nods firmly. "Axilya has turned her back on court corruption. She aids those seeking refuge beyond their twisted politics—she’s your ticket in without getting the door slammed in your face—or worse."

Leaning in, I meet Faderyn's unwavering gaze with a steely resolve. "Okay, if you're putting your chips on this, Axilya, I'll entertain a chat," I agree, but my acquiescence comes with a clause. "But the minute things smell fishy, we abort mission 'Kumbaya' and switch to operation 'Disco Inferno,'" I assert, my voice dips in determination. "So let's hope your Fae friend is the real deal because I’ve got a light show ready."

Faderyn bows his head. "Your caution is wise. We will proceed with care. But this may be our best hope of sparing bloodshed."

I pray his trust in Axilya is well-placed. Lives hang in the balance. If playing diplomat fails... I’ll go nuclear.

Faderyn turns to Erik solemnly. "It is best if you do not accompany us to meet with Axilya. The Fae remain… wary of vampires after past bloodshed."

Erik's expression tightens, but he nods in understanding.

Faderyn continues delicately. "Vampires have not walked these lands for centuries. Your return will stir troubling memories best left untouched until Danica can present your motives favorably."

Switching gears, I acknowledge Faderyn's gap in knowledge. "Things have changed," I say, my tone softer. "We've shelved the pitchforks and torches. Sure, vampires and humans had their showdowns, but those days are history. We've turned the page."

Faderyn seems thoughtful. "Your realm has been sundered for an age," he muses. "We know little of current relations between your kinds." His eyes gain a gleam of hope. "Perhaps such unity may take root even here, in time."

Heartened by his open mind, I press my case. "Erik and his kin are good, honorable men. Things aren't as they once were. Give them a chance."

Faderyn bows his head. "You make a compelling case, Dani. I shall contemplate your words seriously. Much may change if understanding can bridge the divisions of history." Turning to Erik, he offers calmly, "You may take refuge at my home if you wish. Few venture out that far. You would be safe."

As he outlines the path to his secluded abode, I catch myself about to argue against Erik trekking alone to an unknown haven. But Faderyn cuts through my protest with a look that carries centuries of 'trust me, I’ve got this.' So I snap my mouth shut, folding my objections away.

"Dani, if you are truly who you claim to be, your safety is paramount. We cannot delay." His tone permits no argument.

"I'll be right behind you and see you later," Erik reassures me. He dead-eyes Faderyn, "Go, get her out of here—keep her safe."

Faderyn sweeps me up in his arms, all pine freshness and rippling muscle. I'll never admit it, but I enjoy the princess treatment and the security it brings.

As we take off through the gloomy forest, I feel Erik's protective gaze behind me.

"Do you think Axilya can help convince Queen Mean Girl to hand over my guys?" I ask Faderynskeptically.

His melodic voice rumbles with quiet conviction. "If anyone can aid us, it is Axilya. Have faith."

I crane my neck, scanning the woods behind me. Relief trickles through me each time I spot Erik's silver hair threading between the trees, following Faderyn's given path.

Faderyn says nothing more as we sprint on horseback, his jaw set with solemn purpose. I know further objections would be useless. All I can do is pray that Axilya proves to be as noble as Faderyn believes.

No backup plan gleams in the back of my mind yet—no ace in the hole. But if life's taught me one thing, it's that I've got a PhD in Improvisation. And if I have to pull a solution out of my ass? Well, consider that my special talent show.

Danica

6

Time smears into one big, indistinct blur as we journey toward our destination. My poor backside calls for periodic breaks—I mean, mercy, please—even though we're trekking through drop-dead gorgeous landscapes, the beauty doesn't cushion the ride. This realm might be eye candy deluxe, but it's not butt-friendly.

With our destination finally in view, the tableau is nothing short of epic high fantasy. The lodges are bunkered down, while tents cluster in cozy companionship—each a haven of fae hospitality.

Dismounting from Faderyn's 'mythical taxi service,' ass numb and legs like jelly, we're greeted by a steady hum—a surefire sign of the fae at their most alive. There's a vibe that seeps into you—organic, unfiltered, the essence of realness. It's a pulse from the heart of the fae land itself, pure and unrefined.

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