Page 2 of Last Ride of the Umbra Fae

Vessa

The smell of heavy smoke clung to our clothes from the tavern we’d left to burn to ash. Dead bodies would have been gifts to those who pried, and we didn’t need anyone on our tail for at least a few days.

There had been something hidden within the rain since we’d left that godsforsaken town hours ago, as if death had somehow found a way to break through the clouds casting light upon our course. Pa was in no rush to face whatever was lurking in that storm, he hadn’t been in a while. He was waiting for whatever it was to catch up; a change since the day we’d lost my sister and Ma. It was like watching him dance with death on the crumbling edges of a cliff. Borderline reckless, if you asked me, always reveling in every life he took like a cowboy riding his way to hell.

In some fucked up way, I was just as reckless. Ifthatwas where we were heading, then at least I’d had a taste of it. I’d lived in it far too long to know a life outside of it. The only difference between Pa and myself was that I chased that high, riding so fast that not even the bird himself could keep up; with my arms stretched out astride my horse, open to whatever would catch me if I fell. If that was death, then so be it. The rush was always freeing, the danger compelling, lurking beyond the pall just tosee what the fuck would be on the other side. Had I not been given the hand I’d been dealt, I might have cared about how hard I rode or how brutal I killed. But if the ancestors had been right andtheywere waiting for us, then I could see why Pa and I were in a hurry. I didn’t fear death as I once had as a child. Grief had sprouted a grueling monster within, and we stoked it like a flame. I would watch this world burn until it turned to ash if it meant seeing their faces again.

As I looked deep into Pa’s eyes, shadows lurking beyond his years, I saw we were the same.

We just had different ways of showing it.

I would have never guessed this was how the next chapter of our lives would have been, venturing out like this, but here it was, never-ending. Even after all these years, I didn’t know how I was still holding on to the reins.

Pa’s black stallion kept a slow trot as he looked up ahead. I caught sight of another storm thundering in the distance across the flat and desolate terrain. No doubt Mother Nature was boxing us in. She knew disease when she felt it littering the humans’ soil, as if she, too, had already chosen a side.

Pa watched the birds give chase into the rain, hoping to find their own relief from this scorching heat. He was always hard to read, rigid and stone-cold, his expression void of most emotions. I didn’t know why, but I still looked every day for something a little different.

“You won’t find nothing here, Shadow. No matter how many times you look back,” he said with a too-observant smirk that drew a huffed laugh from me. He had a way with words. He could throw out a handful and each one would pack a punch to the soul. Pulling back on the reins, my mare slowed until we rode side by side, the last bit of heat against our backs. His voice was deep and raspy, one that held many years of smoked herbs and a special blend that he used to hide in his spruce box.

“I would kill a man or two just to have a hit.” I smiled, thinking of the stone that would lift from my chest for a puff.

“Only two? You’re just being coy now.” He laughed gruffly, finding pride in the way I handled myself in every situation. “Here.” He tossed something onto my lap. Looking down, a smile curled on my lips as I picked up and admired the rolled herb smoke between my index finger and thumb.

“How did you?—”

“Don’t thank me, thankhim.” He grinned, short and to the point, as he pointed toward the sky at the bird who’d been circling above us.

The bird and I were bound, not by fate, but by force, thanks to the elders of our village when I’d been a child—back when I’d been getting into too much trouble.

I looked up. “Thanks, asshole, but you forgot about Pa,” I called out, only to get a cawed response.

“Oh, he took care of me,” Pa said, finishing with a wink as he patted his chest, revealing an entire pouch of it. “You stay out of my pockets, and you’ll be seeing more of these.” The creases around his rich brown eyes deepened beneath the blazing sun. I loved it when he smiled. It was just as rewarding as the tonic he’d bring home to “keep my demons in check,” as he’d say.

“Deal.” I returned the smile, thankful he had sensed this coming before I had. This would have to do to ease the pain and the pounding of my heart until we could find more.

I’d been born with an illness that had almost killed me, and the scars that marred my arm from when we’d been attacked had led to a blood disease that manifested when the moon harnessed too much energy. The source of my power was a gravitational invitation for pure fuckery. I’d only experienced it a handful of times; the twisted, gut-wrenching pain so intense, I’d wanted to carve the damn marking right out of my chest.

The Eternal stone had once hidden within the Blightstone Hollow, a sacred forest southeast of where our ancestors foretold the path would be carved by the blood of fae. Within those crimson grounds of whispered tales and curses now lay the empty space that echoed its loss through the hollow.

Its presence was the only thing that could have created the remedy I needed. Looking at this rolled herb was better than staring down the bloodied beam from the gallows. “Hell’s Mark” is what fae called that hellhole of a town where the others met their fate.

It wasn’t long before I pulled out a flask of water, appreciating its stale taste as it went rolling down my throat. I removed my black felt cowboy hat, the wind cooling the sheen of sweat beading above my brows. As it blew through my hair, I was reminded of a time when it wasn’t a sin to expose our ears or hands.

I took another long swig before pouring the remnants over my head, closing my eyes, and tilting my chin toward the sun as it dripped down my face and between my breasts. The breeze fluttered along my sternum against the symbol beautifully tattooed on my flesh.

Once in a blue moon. The power of Ano.

Anowas the goddess of half of the moon, and in the gods’ ancient language, it meant light. I ran a finger over the slightly raised skin, tracing its circular shape. It was a fading reminder of the stories Ma had once told. It was a whimsical summon, calling upon the energy of the moon and harnessing the power it provided, for it was an echo of our past and a reminder of what the gods and goddesses had given us. Our ancestors had told a story about two star-born goddesses, one soul:AmaandAno, the dark and light side of the moon, also calledhalf-lights. Though I had the power ofAno, it wasn’t always pretty when I summoned mine.

“A moon has many phases; do not sit on the dark side of it for too long, my moon.”

Ignoring the hum in my chest, I ran my hand through my hair, allowing the pain of Ma’s words to consume me by taking a deep puff of herbed smoke until the burn hit my lungs just right. Another hit to ease my mind. As soon as my ears felt the cool breeze, I knew it wouldn’t be long until their star-like shimmer would reflect the sun, casting a bright enough glint to make Pa turn his head. It’d been a while since I’d exposed them during daylight. They had become a symbol of what we were hunted for. We were rare—barely seen.

With our black-tipped ears and onyx hands, the Umbra Fae were known as omens to the humans, our differences drawing the line between our two species as if they made us inherently bad.

The air felt like freedom. I missed the days when we didn’t have to hide, but here I was, stealing a small moment of it before?—

“Put your hat back on or you’ll get yourself killed,” Pa warned.

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