Page 25 of The Forbidden Fae King

All three are huntresses from the same small village, clearly uncomfortable in their lord’s castle. I urge them to sit beside me and make small talk with them until the unease melts from their shoulders, while Caitlin analyses the rest of the pilgrims who gingerly enter the class.

“Gods, I hope there aren’t exams,” Caitlin mutters and the girl beside her giggles.

The room fills with hopeful women from across the Appleshield Protectorate.

Footsteps ring out on the dais and the entire space falls silent. I turn toward the high priestess, my grandmother, as she surveys her prey with a narrow gaze. There is no other way to describe her severe look. I almost smile. There is vast warmth beneath her stern exterior, for any who cares to look for it.

A simple white wool dress drapes her sinewy figure, with a gold belt and ermine fur shawl. Her white hair is worn loose in soft curls, with a few braided bands holding it back, and her skin is a maze of wrinkles. Thick cords stick out along her thin neck and collarbones as she presses her lips into a thin line.

It is strange to see my grandmother in this role, the gentleness she reserves for her family completely gone. These women around me cowering before her would have no idea of the countless times I have cried into my grandmother’s chest as a child, while she stroked my hair and kissed away my worries. She has always been a pillar of support in my life.

“Welcome, pilgrims, and congratulations. You are braver than any warrior,” the high priestess declares. “Before we begin, you will give a blood oath to never share the secrets of our order, unless I release the spell.”

Her eyes find and lock down on each woman, only moving on after her victim has cringed beneath the weight of her stare.

“You will learn harsh truths that could cripple the kingdom if weak minds discover them. I will not bind you in any other way. If you change your mind before the crossing, you are free to walk away. This is not for the fainthearted.”

I glance around at the other women in the room. We volunteer for a deadly pilgrimage that we are painfully ignorant about.

My grandmother steps off the dais and takes the hand of the first woman in the front row of seats. She murmurs softly while the candidate nods, then pulls a tiny blade from her belt and slashes across the woman’s palm.

The high priestess curls the pilgrim’s hand into a fist and placesher own over it, forcing blood to drip. Both women speak and thin wisps of the palest smoke rise from the blood as the oath is made. I watch with an academic’s fascination.

When my grandmother reaches me and takes my hands in her icy grasp, pride brims across her features. “I did not expect you to volunteer for the pilgrimage, Keira, though I had hoped,” she murmurs. “Good to see you have stopped following every order of that princeling and will take up your own destiny. Hold out your palm for me, child.”

I offer my hand and she slashes the fine blade across it. I suck in a sharp breath at the sudden pain, which is only worse when she curls my hand and encases it in her bony fingers.

“Repeat after me. ‘I swear an oath to never speak a word of the lessons taught in preparation of the pilgrimage to any other than a priestess. I swear an oath not to speak a word of my experiences in the Otherworld to any other than a priestess.’”

I make the pledge as my blood drips onto the floor. A deep chill runs up the skin of my left middle finger and my palm. A silvery pattern of swirls and loops appear as a thick banded ring, so faint it’s only visible as I move my hand in the light. The gash in my palm is completely healed.

Within little time, we are all bound.

The high priestess returns to the dais. “I implore you to listenveryclosely. We will have a week of classes. In this time, you must learn everything you need to know about the fae, their world and their magic. You cannot take notes, so youmustmemorize everything. This knowledge could be the difference between life and death. Once these classes are done, you will have training sessions to fine-tune your magic wielding abilities and hand-to-hand combat. The crossing at the spring equinox is fast approaching.”

My heart pounds with anticipation and fear.

The high priestess turns and scrolls on the blackboard. “Lesson one: the fae world is brutal and cruel, and you will need to be the same to survive it. You must understand that we are stealing their magic. Taking things they need to survive. It is a drop in a fae oceancompared to the magic in their realm, but it likely will destroy the fae you take it from. They will fight you to the death to keep it. Now, can anyone tell me what sorts of objects you should aim to steal?”

I glance at the other women. Their expressions range from confusion to complete terror at my grandmother.

“Go on,” Caitlin mutters to me. “You might as well answer it.”

“Magic imbued relics, heart-stones or a pregnancy to the magic.” I say with confidence. I have read so many books, I probably know most of this lesson.

The high priestess taps a nail against the podium. “Relics. Stones. Pregnancy. As easy as that, right?”

An audible sigh floats through the room.

“Wrong. Have any of you wondered why we do not send men to the Otherworld? Trained warriors in armor? Why not an army?” The high priestess spits. Tension runs up my spine at the sheer anticipation of her next words.

My grandmother leaves a pregnant pause before continuing. “Because they would immediately be seen as a threat and the fae would swarm on them. But a woman? A pretty young girl or a priestess? Surely, she is as harmless as she looks. Perhaps she got lost and wandered into their lands. Maybe she is there to worship the narcissistic beasts they are. Big, strong men and powerful fae are alike, they are too stupid to see a human woman as the threat we can be.

“Our entire culture is built around the needs and convenience of men. For a woman to survive and thrive, we must be subtle and manipulative and use our wits to earn what they take for granted. We become masters of deception and persuasion. In this, women have had training for the crossing their entire lives.”

A silence falls on the room, and many women nod their heads. Anger clenches Caitlin’s jaw. We both have our struggles in being taken seriously as leaders by anyone outside our court.

My grandmother claps her hands twice. “Now, let's discuss fae relics imbued with magic.” She scrolls again on the chalkboard. “While being incredibly powerful objects, most are hidden within templesand protected by magic, or in the palaces of the high fae. There are lower relics in ancient ruins that could be targeted.”

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