Of Fairytales and Magic by Emma Hamm
Chapter 17
Freya stood before the two remaining bronze figures and stared them down. The obvious next choice was the Horned God, the one who looked vaguely familiar. As though she’d seen him in the mortal realm before, but couldn’t quite remember from where.
She couldn’t make herself press his face. Not yet.
“Why don’t you tell me about him before we walk in this time?” she said, without looking over her shoulder.
Both Eldridge and Arrow were staring at her as though something was about to fly out of the sky and strike her. Their muscles were bunched, ready to leap in front of her in case anything went wrong. She didn’t think anything was going to go so horribly wrong, but one could never be sure.
Arrow cleared his throat, snuffled as though his nose were stuffy, and then replied. “We know the Horned God to be a trickster. You should be on your guard because nothing is as it seems in that place.”
“Right.” She could have guessed that. All fae were tricksters. “What else? Anything useful or only that he’s not trustworthy?”
Eldridge stepped closer and reached out his hand for her to take. “The Horned God has a soft spot for humans, but he doesn’t want to talk with them. A long time ago he was known for keeping... well. Pets.”
Right, that was disgusting. She didn’t fancy meeting a god who thought of people like her as nothing more than mongrels or animals that could be kept as a plaything for when he wanted entertainment.
“All right. Ominous. I’m not looking forward to that in the slightest.” Freya shivered, but then drew herself up.
She was a mother now, or would be a mother soon enough. She didn’t have time to fear the old gods because she was becoming godly herself. Mothers were the few creatures who could bring life into this realm. Even this Horned God would have to understand that.
“So I just...” She gestured toward the bronze face and mimed pushing it.
“Yes,” Eldridge replied. “The same as last time. There will be a door and we will go through it together.”
“Do you have any idea what waits for us beyond it?” She knew the answer, but Freya was hoping that maybe she was wrong.
“Not even the faintest idea. That’s the whole point of the trials. Each one is different. Individual to the trait the old god thinks the new Autumn Thief is lacking, but also to what they want to see in growth from the new Autumn Thief.” Eldridge touched her chest, palm pressed against her heart. “They can see inside you the moment you take the power into yourself. They know everything about you, my Freya. And that is what they are testing.”
“Oh, of course it couldn’t be something less sinister.” She placed a hand on her belly without thinking. Almost as though she already knew that she needed to take care of this baby more this time. As though the child could give her strength.
Freya sighed and put her hand on the horns of the figurehead in front of her. The metal vibrated beneath her touch. A warning? Or excitement from the Horned God himself who was ready to meet her?
She didn’t want to find out, but Freya didn’t have a choice. This was her path. And she would walk it with strength and virtue.
Shoving hard, she pushed the head into the wall and continued shoving until the door opened beyond. Nothing but shadows were revealed. The Horned God didn’t want her to see what was through the door until she stepped foot into his domain.
So be it.
She swallowed hard and looked over her shoulder at Arrow standing behind them, wringing his paws but ready to remain behind in case something bad happened. “Be careful with this one, Miss Freya. He’s not one to be trifled with.”
No fae were. They all knew how to bend the world to their will, and how to be dangerous.
She touched a finger to her temple and then nodded. “I’ll keep my wits about me, goblin dog. You have my promise.”
“I hope that’ll be enough.”
She did as well, but the words rang in her mind. What if it wasn’t enough for her to be aware of the dangers? She’d beaten so many fae at their own games. But these old gods were a new beast. Wise, ancient beings who were so much more powerful because of their years walking this realm.
No, she couldn’t let her mind wander like that. Such thoughts could only lead to danger.
“Hold my hand?” she asked, reaching out her hand for Eldridge to take.
He slipped his warm fingers between hers and squeezed. “Until the very end, my love.”
Goodness, she hoped this wasn’t their end. She had a lot more planned for the two of them.
They walked through the door together and Freya realized that the shadows weren’t exactly shadows. They were magic. Dark magic that swirled in eddies around them. Tendrils of the blackened stuff wrapped around her arms like thin, spindly fingers. They threaded through her hair, lifting the strands up as though the darkness were admiring the texture and color of her locks. Perhaps it was. Her hair was the same color as the magic.
Ink slid away from her skin like she stepped through a waterfall, and then the shadows revealed a room beyond. It took Freya a few moments of blinking to dispel her surprise. After all, she’d expected something similar to where the Owl Mother lived. A kingdom or a realm of its own with subjects and people. Instead, they walked into a room as though they were still moving through the Stronghold.
It was a lovely room. Warm mahogany paneling covered the walls, though the large arched windows revealed nothing beyond them. Just pitch black. Candles hung from the shadowy ceiling, and when she peered closer, she wasn’t at all certain that there was a ceiling. The shadowy tendrils had receded to the roof, where they tangled around each other.
Waiting for their master to call upon them, perhaps?
“Those shadows,” she whispered, feeling as though she shouldn’t speak too loud in such a reverent room. “They look like your magic.”
“That’s because they are,” Eldridge replied. His fingers turned cold in her grip. “Or some form of it. The Horned God was the one to give me the gift of my powers, long ago. He said a powerful being like me should be able to control more than the elements.”
“Isn’t light an element? Therefore shadow must be as well.” Freya said the words with confidence that she didn’t feel. Nothing made sense in the faerie realm, so she could be wrong.
Eldridge shook his head. “They aren’t shadows, not really. They have a mind. Thoughts. Dreams, even, if you ask them in the dead of night. They are more than magic. They are living beings with a heart inside them.”
Why did that disturb her? Freya gulped and released her grip on the Goblin King.
She stepped into the room, and the shadows shifted away from her feet. She hadn’t even noticed them spread across the floor. The carpet of them parted, revealing a lovely white and black checkered floor. This was a room for nobility to dance in, and yet it remained empty and cold.
“Hello?” she called out. “Horned God, I am here to speak with you!”
For a moment, she thought she heard someone calling back to her. But then she realized it was only her own voice bouncing through the shadows. Repeating through these living, dark beings until the sound wasn’t her voice anymore. Not really.
Eldridge sighed, and the sound was one of ancient disappointment. “The Horned God will come when he is ready, and no sooner.”
“Then why summon me now?” Freya turned on her heel. “Why would he call upon me and then not show his face?”
A fire burst into life before her eyes. Freya tossed up an arm to cover her eyes, certain the roaring fireplace hadn’t been there moments before. Heat blasted over her arms and covered her from head to toe in a welcome wave of comfort.
“Eldridge?” she asked again. “Why wouldn’t he be here waiting for us?”
No one responded.
Frowning, she turned around, only to see that no one stood behind her. Eldridge had been right there only moments ago. She knew that he was in the same place where she had left him.
Wasn’t he? Why would he have left when he knew how dangerous this place was? He wouldn’t. Which could only mean the Horned God was already here.
“That’s quite a trick,” she said. “But it lacks a certain luster when the magician is not in the room.”
Long fingernails raked through her hair, gently detangling an area at the base of her skull. “Who says I’m not in the room?”
“Well, visibly in the room, that is.” Freya didn’t mind correcting herself, although she was certain this god would have liked her to admit more. “I don’t think you’re standing behind me either.”
The claws curved and pressed sharp tips to her neck. “You sound uncertain, Freya. Of all the things I’ve heard, all the things I’ve seen in that pretty head of yours, I didn’t expect you to be so uncertain.”
Was she supposed to know what was going on here? “I could turn around and see for myself.”
“You could,” the voice said with a chuckle. “But I don’t think you’d like what you find.”
There was a challenge in his voice. A challenge that she knew she couldn’t deny. He wanted to see how brave she was. How easily she could turn around when she feared the monster standing behind her. Maybe... Maybe there was nothing behind her, and this was all in her head.
She squared her shoulders and balled her hands into fists. Freya had seen more terrifying things than shadows. So she turned.
The long tendrils of darkness had coalesced behind her into a familiar stretched figure. A leering grin stared down at her where light split through the warped shadows and through the slitted gaze of a monster made of shadows.
A scream pressed against her throat. But she refused to show these villains that she was afraid of them. “A Midnight Monster,” she whispered. “So these are yours, then?”
The voice laughed again, still behind her, even though she had already turned. “I knew you had met them, but I didn’t realize you would hate them so. Many find them to be beautiful, or at the very least, familiar.”
She supposed they looked like a person’s stretched out shadow when the sun set behind them. That didn’t make them familiar. It only made them slightly human, and slightly something worse.
“Go away,” she growled. “My business is not with you.”
The Midnight Monster reached out a clawed hand and scraped it down her cheek. “Everything that is the Horned God’s business, is my business.”
“I don’t think so,” she replied without missing a beat. “You are not the person I came here to see. I came here to speak with a god. Not a mouthpiece.”
The Midnight Monster’s gaze narrowed until its eyes were little more than slits in the shadows. She glared back with what she hoped was equal intensity. He had no right to take this moment from her. And the Horned God would speak with her himself.
When no one else emerged from the shadows, and the Midnight Monster didn’t budge, she widened her stance and ground her teeth together. “You will step aside and let me speak with your master.”
“Oh I will?” The Midnight Monster pressed a too long hand to its mouth as if it were surprised. “I think not, little human. If he wanted to speak with you directly, then he would. But he doesn’t. So he won’t.”
“I think he will. I doubt he would want to be the only god who didn’t give me an audience. When he speaks with the others, it would only make him look like the weakest of them.” Freya crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips and looking the Midnight Monster up and down. “I don’t think you understand how that works. If you’re the only person who didn’t take the risk to see someone who should be vastly weaker than oneself? And yet, the Horned God would be the only one who was terrified of a mortal girl who had stolen magic she shouldn’t have.”
The words were a gamble. She could make the Horned God angrier and more likely to attack her.
And she’d promised herself she wouldn’t take risks like this with a little light growing in her belly. But there was no other way. Not that she could see.
Freya had to draw him out into the light. She needed to see the Horned God for herself, even if she didn’t understand the gut wrenching desire. The magic inside her rolled, forcing her tongue to move even when she didn’t want to say more.
“If he’s afraid, I understand,” she heard herself say. “Fear is hard to overcome. Even for a god.”
The magic rumbled in her chest, and she almost heard a voice whisper in her ear, “Yes, that. That’s what you should say to a god like this.”
Apparently, the magic appreciated her being a little more forward and more confident.
“Afraid?” the Midnight Monster screamed. “He would show you what fear truly meant.”
“Then let him prove it.” She leaned forward so close their faces almost touched. “You are his shield. I see that now. However, you are a flimsy and weak barrier made of nothing but shadow. True protection requires substance. Stand aside and let me see this little man.”
“Too far,” the magic whispered. “Much too far.”
Well, it had said to challenge him! She would never understand this place.
She heard the Horned God’s growl before a clawed hand slashed through the Midnight Monster. The creature screamed in pain and then split in two. The shadows parted like a wave to reveal the substantial monster who stood behind.
The Horned God was a creature from nightmares. His skin was leathery and wrinkled, like a loose-fitting jacket hung from his frame. Dark eyes glared at her, but they were hard to look at when twin ram horns rose from his forehead. The skin around their base had split open, and twin drops of black liquid dripped down his temples. He stood ten feet high, easily towering over her head. Chest bare, claws darkened with soot and age, he was a formidable monster that she never should have challenged.
Freya gulped, but tried her best to remain confident and strong. “There you are,” she muttered. “I thought I was here to talk with you, not your creations.”
“You are a very intelligent woman, but not intelligent enough to escape me.” His eyes flashed with a fire in the depths of that darkness, crackling with energy and power.
“I wasn’t trying to escape you. I was trying to find you because I need you to acknowledge that I am more than worthy of this title and this power.”
“Perhaps someday I will admit that,” he snarled, lips wrinkling at the edges and black ooze dripping from his bottom lip. “Your games are only beginning, Freya of Woolwich. I need to see more from you than cleverness and mortal instinct.”
He lifted his hands in the air and clapped. The sound hit her ears with all the force of an avalanche, and then everything went dark.
