Page 2 of Consort

Farris folds his stubby gremlin arms and nods. “Vernan.”

Testing something incredible like this on a noble is risky. If Vernan figures out what he can do, he’ll take Farris straight to the queen. She’s a power-hungry ruler, coveting all powerful magic for herself. In her mind, Faerie belongs to her, so the magic of any fae is rightfully hers as well.

If she learned of his unique abilities, she would force him into the nobility and exploit his magic for her own gain. I’ve seen it happen. Our village lost its best enchanter to the queen. Instead of putting on beautiful light shows and creating interactive toys for the younglings, he’s probably cursing weapons and creating torture devices for the queen.

She wouldn’t care about Farris, just his power. Farris would belong to her.

Many fae dream of rising to noble status. But the nobles arenasty, cruel fae who I would never want to be associated with. The queen seems to embody our aggressive side, our bloodlust.

I don’t think the bloodlust is inherently bad. I’ve always thought it was meant for hunting and for giving courage and determination in battle. I think it just needs an outlet when it’s not being used as intended.

I get the most relief from crushing things in my hands, like an old pot or fallen limb. Sure, I still feel like picking a fight sometimes. But it doesn’t push me to the point of wanting to kill or be excessively violent. Most fae are content challenging each other to a fair fight. Even a simple argument can sate the bloodlust most of the time.

But the nobles take that bloodlust to the extreme. And the kind of power they possess is unmatched by us common fae.

Or the other high fae species in Faerie they prey on.

They kill for sport and never seem to be satisfied. I don’t know if they’re born with a stronger bloodlust than the rest of us or if the queen corrupts them once they join her court. It does seem as though the closer to the castle a fae lives, the more proud and hateful they are. It’s almost like the land itself infects those who live upon it.

Farris is no soldier. He and I come from a smaller, more peaceful village, hours away from the castle. We fight, we argue, but no one kills, and we don’t prey on the elves, kelpies, or shifters for fun.

“But what if Vernancansee through the layers?” I ask, concerned. I know Farris. The castle is not the place for him. “He’s a noble. He’s dangerous!”

Farris slaps me on the shoulder. “Oh, come on. My father and Vernan go way back. He’s fine.”

I shake my head, unconvinced. “That’s not good enough. If he can see through the layers, do you really think he’ll allow you to walk away?”

“I doubt he’ll be able to see each individual layer,” he says confidently. “I can’t, and they’re my own. If he does see through both, he’ll just dismiss us as foolish juveniles playing illusion games.”

I let out a frustrated groan and run a hand over my face. It feels like mine, but I’m sure I look as ridiculous as Farris does.

“Please,” he whines. “If you do this for me, I’ll help you practice your magic for the rest of the day!”

I roll my eyes. “Oh, how generous of you. What will we do? Warm our toes if we get chilly?”

My magic is nothing special. So far, I’m only able to heat things with my hands. Fae typically inherit the magic of one parent or a weakened form of both. My mother’s magic helps plants grow, so I’m pretty sure I just inherited my father’s heat abilities.

It’s handy, I guess. I can heat the water for my bath without needing to boil any on the fire. I can warm up my bed before I climb in. I can even spark the flint to start a fire. But there’s nothing really exciting about it.

Farris gives me a small smile. “Don’t worry, Durin,” he says. “You’ll find more things you can do with your magic.”

Sure, I’ll find more things I can heat up, but my father hasn’t done anything worth mentioning with his magic. Practicing would be pointless.

“No need,” I sigh. “Let’s just get this over with.”

Farris grips my shoulders gratefully. “We’ll be quick. We just need to find Vernan and see how he reacts.”

He turns and leads the way, but I secretly hope Vernan isn’t around and we get to go home. I don’t want Farris to try this alone, though. I know he won’t give up until he knows. It’s better to tackle it now than for him to sneak off by himself. Not that I could do much if things went wrong. But it doesn’t feel right to let him do it on his own.

We wander around for a while with no luck until we hear a voice carry over from the trees ahead.

“If only you could cast illusions, too,” it says. “It would make my day to see him with a wolf head.”

“You know I can’t do that,” another voice answers, making Farris perk up.

His wide eyes meet mine, and he gives a short nod. It’s Vernan.

Farris pulls me forward before I can ask what the plan is. I grab his arm, holding him back from charging into the clearing. He shoots me a look but stays where he is.

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