Lina: Twisted Fairy Tales Book Two

19: Unwelcome Company

I had one goal in mind, and there was nothing stopping me. Not even my thigh as the reconfigured muscles screamed in protest at each stretch and each step. I raced along the treeline, darting in and out between tree trunks and brush. All of my senses were trained on the forest around me. I was certain I saw something out here. Someone. A sweet scent tickled my nose, but carried with it a coppery, metallic tang. Worse, a scent that had my hackles raising, tail tucking and my steps becoming more cautious. It was the smell of rot. Decay. Of death. I chittered anxiously, unable to help myself.

I was approaching the source, slowly moving in on it, trying to take extra care, when I got my first glimpse. Dark hair spilled across an armor-covered back and the forest floor, hiding the face. Iridescent wings lay limp down the narrow back, stuck to the silvery armor by crimson splashes of blood. The blood had an odd appearance to it. Like pearls had been crushed up and mixed with it, or some sort of oil floated on top. I crept closer, not entirely certain I had made the right choice to come here alone. But a familiar leather bracer caught my attention, and so I decided to trust my instincts this one time and approach carefully.

I didn’t even make it around to the Fae’s face before he sighed.

“Laoina..” The familiar voice, even weak as it was, had my form ripping apart. I fell in front of him on human hands and knees.

“Erl King?” I reached a hesitant hand for his face, intent on brushing the curtain of hair aside.

“My.. little.. Laoina..” The words were so soft, I almost didn’t hear them. I only allowed myself to pause a moment longer before shoving at his shoulder, rolling what I expected to be a very heavy body over onto its back. With a thump, he moved much easier than I was prepared for, to reveal an extensive amount of damage. My breath caught in my throat. Somehow, his armor had been dented in. Perhaps something heavy stepped upon him? He seemed scarcely able to take a full breath. A long jagged wound ran from under one ear down his throat, flaying the skin open in a ragged mess. His right arm flopped uselessly as I jostled him.

“So glad.. You’re safe..” The Fae King breathed, his cat-like eyes crinkling at the edges before closing, his entire body suddenly going lax.

“Erl King?” I shook him, blood coating my hands swiftly from his armor and wounds. “Faery King? I don’t know what to call you! Fae Lord! Abductor! Mind-addled Fool! Don’t you dare die on me now! Get up you pointy-eared, confusing mess of a creature!” I slapped him, but all that happened was his head fell to the side and the last of his breath escaped him.

“No, no, no!” I screamed at him, trying to get my brain to function.

“Malina!”

“How do I..?” I looked around me desperately.

“Malina!”

“Princess!”

I couldn’t get my mind to work on the problem. He was too heavy for me to carry along, despite being lighter than I had expected when turning him. Add to that the fact that he would not be able to help me move him, but would essentially be ‘dead weight’...

“Princess Malina!”

Should I change shape? Into what? I’d need a way to transport him! And a way to maneuver him onto my back or carry him. And I was losing time! The longer he went without air, the worse it was for him. I may not have been a Healer, but I knew enough to know that.

“Lady Malina!”

“And what’s with all this Gods’ forsaken noise?!” I raged.

“Oh thank the Gods!” My Uncle Reginald came limping into view. The limp only happened these days when he overworked the leg, or when the weather was bad. Though he still tended to carry the cane more days than not. As children, we swore it was more for intimidation purposes than anything. He liked to lean on it and glower at us, or use it to reel us in if we misbehaved, but the fact that he was limping now must mean he had run. Tyrus was right behind him, followed by my very irate looking father. I was surprised he hadn’t shifted to follow me, but with a closer look at his clothes, I realized it must be the day for hearing grievances because he was in his ‘stately robes’ as he called them. I paled. I couldn’t imagine what I’d just put my parents through. Again. Since the last time I disappeared was on a similar day. I hadn’t realized they had been hearing grievances earlier in the day. Somehow I had completely lost track of time..

“Your mother will-” Papa started, the growl falling from his lips only emphasizing his sharpened canines.

“Likely go into labor over this one, I know.” I cut his irate tirade off with one of my own. I cut his irate tirade off with one of my own. We have to get him to the Healer’s, quick! He’s stopped breathing!” My father looked down at the Fae I hovered over protectively, while removing his ‘official’ cape to drape around my nude shoulders. More shouts came from the forest as Reginald sucked in a breath.

“Is that-?” Uncle Reggie asked.

“Yes.” My father snarled.

“No. Nuh-uh. Leave him die.” I had never heard Tyrus sound so incredibly callous.

“More likely he needs a blacksmith,” Reggie remarked, then called out “Over here!” As a group of approximately twenty men surrounded us.

Reggie was shouting orders even before all the men had fully arrived while Tyrus sputtered off to his side and my father glared. Papa folded his arms across his chest.

“You certainly can’t mean to-” Tyrus objected as Reggie directed the men.

“Hurry now men, he’s not breathed for several minutes, to the smithies!” Reggie barked, then turned on Tyrus. “Can’t mean to what? Aid an injured man because our Princess has asked us to? Put aside my petty grievances for our Niece? Particularly when I.. already owe her for what I have done..” Reginald trailed off from berating Tyrus as I hopped up and started chasing after the men who now had the Fae King on their shoulders.

“I’m certain you mean after what he did to you-to us!” Tyrus seethed. The raw pain and anger in his voice was like a whip. “To her! To us all!” I flinched, the words just becoming worse. I kept my hand on the Fae King when I could, trying to stay out of the way, but also needing to make sure his skin hadn’t yet gotten cold. A runner had been sent ahead to get the blacksmith ready and to fetch the Healer. My father abruptly jerked me back while Tyrus and Reggie continued to argue somewhere behind us.

“Why not let him go, Malina? By the time he is revived, his chances of survival-” My father held me by the arms above the elbows, a grim look on his face. Horrified, I yanked myself free.

“I owe him, Papa” I reiterated from before we’d left the Fae Realm.

“Yes but-”

“He tried to save me. I at least owe him the same in return.” I turned on my heel as a growl rumbled from him, spurring my own. I marched grimly after the men bearing the Fae King’s limp form. I understood my father’s point, but this foolish sense of loyalty wouldn’t die, so I had to purge it somehow.

He should understand.

I got it from his side of the family.