Of Fairytales and Magic by Emma Hamm
Chapter 4
She fell out of that magical place and landed hard in her own body. Freya hardly had time to orient herself before she was jerked in yet another direction. This time, at least, she remained in her own body.
Hands clutched her shoulders and heaved her away from the Autumn Thief. Hands that came with the familiar scent of apple pie. An arm wrapped around her shoulders and braced her against a familiar, hard body.
“Freya,” Eldridge hissed in her ear. “What have you done?”
She didn’t know how to answer that. The Midnight Monsters sure seemed to think she had done something foolish. And she wasn’t all that certain they were wrong. After all, the old gods didn’t want her to have it. They had already deemed her unworthy because she was a mortal. She was lucky the magic hadn’t already flared deep in her chest and started boiling her alive.
She looked up into Eldridge’s enraged expression and opened her mouth. The only thing that fell out was, “I don’t know.”
And she didn’t. Not really.
She should have asked him before she took the magic. But her own age had weighed her entire soul down until she couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. So many people were already looking at her as though she were ancient. Freya didn’t want to die in front of their eyes.
His gaze widened in horror, and she thought maybe he could see the magic in her now. Magic that wasn’t her own, but familiar to him.
“You stole her magic?” He whispered the question, as though he couldn’t believe the words himself.
Lark coughed, then interrupted them with a wheezing sound. “Don’t be too hard on her, Eldridge. I told her to take it.”
“Why would you do that?” Eldridge snarled.
They both turned their attention to the Autumn Thief, and Freya watched in horror as one of Lark’s antlers cracked in half. The sound echoed through the room, then the other mirrored the first. They snapped free from the top of her head, then fell onto the mattress on either side of her with quiet thumps.
She seemed to shrink on the bed. A smaller woman than she had been before. No longer imposing with threatening antlers, but a mere goblin woman with strange hands and hooved feet. So small the mattress swallowed her up, and the pillows were too large.
A once blindingly beautiful woman, Lark was now more human. Freya could look at her without flinching or wanting to shade her eyes. This was just Lark. The same woman that Eldridge had grown up with.
He let out a stuttering breath behind her. “Welcome back to yourself,” he mumbled. “It’s good to see you again like this. Even if it is under the worst circumstances.”
Lark shook her head. She reached up and touched the soft nubs where her antlers had once been, and the sad expression on her face brought tears to Freya’s eyes.
“Yes,” Lark replied. “I’m sure you still think this is the worst thing that could have happened to either of us. Me losing my power. Freya taking over as the Autumn Thief. It all must pull at your very soul. But you know this was the only way.”
“The only way?” he hissed, his emotions swinging to anger once again. “You put the woman I love in grave danger, and for what? Your own pride?”
“Because I didn’t want her to die in front of you, Eldridge!” Lark pushed up on the bed, kneeling as if she were about to fly off the bed and wrap her hands around Eldridge’s neck. “You and I both know that mortality is a disease that can’t be cured. This way, at least she has a chance.”
“If she survives the trials,” Eldridge snarled.
His hands flexed on her shoulders, and the words reminded her of what the Midnight Monsters had said. They had talked about a trial, too. Their chuckles still echoed in her ears.
“What trials?” she asked.
Lark growled. The sound was unnatural from a throat like hers, considering Freya had never heard a deer make that sound before. “You foolish man. You know the trials are entirely dependent on the person that has the power. They will see her strength, her cunning, and they will create trials that won’t cost them another Autumn Thief so soon.”
He ripped his hands away from Freya’s shoulders so he could point a long claw in Lark’s face. “You’re making assumptions and forgetting that they may take one look at a mortal and refuse to allow her to even go through the trials. Then what? Then you’ve killed her for a dream that we all knew could never come to light.”
“Assumptions!” Lark tossed her hands in the air. Her rueful laugh filled the room with patronizing disapproval. “You speak of assumptions when you’re making them yourself. The old gods are not so blind. They don’t care if she’s a mortal or if she’s fae. They will turn her into whatever they want. Didn’t they do the same to the two of us?”
Silence was her only answer. Eldridge glared at Lark. Lark glared back. Neither of them would budge because they were both doing the same thing. They both banged their heads against the other until one of them wore down enough to agree. Except neither of them would agree with the other.
Freya held her breath. She didn’t know if she should try to speak, or if the two faeries might jump down her throat, considering they were ready to battle each other. But the question burned on her tongue, wiggling to be released.
If the magic had remade the two of them into what it wanted, or if the old gods had changed these two fae, what had Eldridge once looked like?
A furry body stirred on the bed. Arrow stretched, bowing low with his front legs and then wiggling each back leg as though they had fallen asleep. “I think the two of you are vastly underestimating Miss Freya. She’s gone through every court in this kingdom but the Autumn Court. Perhaps she’s already been completing her own trials.”
Thank all the heavens and gods in the sky for her trustworthy companion. Freya grinned at Arrow, who gave her a sharp nod in return.
At least someone believed in her.
If Arrow thought she could do this, then Freya had no doubt she could. Clearing her throat, she forced herself to interrupt the two faeries that clearly had no interest in listening to the little mortal. “I want to go through the trials. I think I can do this. And Eldridge, I understand you don’t believe in me. That’s all right. I’ve proven you wrong before.”
He pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a very long breath. “It’s not that I don’t believe in you, Freya. These trials are meant for the fae. They were meant for the most powerful person in the court to be tested, weighed, and measured.”
“Who says power has to be measured by how much magic a person can wield?” She had to believe this was the truth, or she really was walking to her death. “Power can mean so much more than physical prowess.”
Eldridge turned toward her, and she knew all this anger was riding on the back of fear. His eyes were too wide. The set of his shoulders too shaky. He feared, yet again, that he was going to lose her, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.
“We don’t have a choice now, do we?” he grumbled. “You took the magic from the Autumn Thief, and the only way to keep it is through the trials. I cannot save you from this, Freya. There is no way for me to take the magic away. I can’t steal it like you did. That power is now locked inside you until you go through the trials or it eats you alive.”
“I may not have understood the risk when I took this power.” The words were an understatement. She already regretted her decision, but like he said, she couldn’t go back. “But I am ready for what comes next. All I can hope for is that you are willing to guide me through whatever may come.”
“Of course I will.” He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and forced his entire body to relax. Inch by inch, he drew the mantle of the Goblin King over himself until he looked completely and utterly unaffected by what had happened. “You would not be the first Autumn Thief I have mentored.”
With a sharp bow, he left the room without another word. Though his movements were stiff and awkward.
Freya knew he needed some time to process all this. She couldn’t race after him and beg his forgiveness, because she’d done all this without him. He hated it when she tried to wander through the faerie realm on her own, without his advice.
Now she understood why. Things like this happened when she didn’t include the Goblin King in her decisions.
Touching a hand to her forehead, she winced and asked, “Did I do something horribly wrong? Again?”
Arrow snorted. “Probably, but you already did it, so we might as well move forward from here. I don’t think you could back out now, even if you wanted to.”
No, she didn’t think she could either. Freya lifted a hand and chewed on her thumbnail. “Should I go after him? All of this was for us, after all. I don’t want to make him think I decided all this without thought.”
Which she had.
Freya continued, brushing aside her own reflections. “That is, I want him to know that I made this choice because I didn’t want to put him through losing me. It wasn’t some desperate bid for power or... Well...”
Maybe she was lying to herself. She had to work on not doing that anymore.
Freya wanted some kind of power. She wanted to be more like the fae who had little care in the world, or at least few worries. Every fiber of her soul wanted to know that her family and friends were safe because she was the one who could keep them like that.
And if that meant stealing a little magic, then she was willing to do so. She had to own that.
She sank onto the edge of the bed and pillowed her head in her hands. Groaning, she whined, “Why am I like this?”
Lark patted her shoulder and chuckled. “All the Autumn Thieves are. This is the one thing that makes you more like the rest of us than any other trait. We are selfish beings, my dear. To our very core. But that doesn’t make us evil or dangerous. Merely that we are willing to do whatever it takes to get what we want. It’s not a bad trait.”
Yet every person Freya had ever spoken to would disagree with what Lark said. Women in particular were supposed to be kind, giving, willing to upend the world for the people they loved. But only at their own expense.
What was she supposed to do now?
Lifting her head, she met Arrow’s gaze. The goblin dog had somehow gotten off the bed without her hearing and was now seated in front of her. Expectantly waiting for the moment when she would get over herself and look to him for guidance.
His tail swooshed over the floor, tossing a dust bunny back underneath the bed. “You’re going to pull yourself together, Miss Freya. The magic that now lives inside you will take a while to get used to. And I’m sure it feels odd to have within your mind. However, we need to get ready for the trials and you need to pack your things.”
“Pack my things?” She knew they would have to go to the Autumn Court, but so soon?
He placed a paw on her knee and sighed. “The trials start with or without you, Freya. The old gods don’t care if you aren’t in the Autumn Court right now. They just know that someone else has the power, and that means you need to prove your worth. We likely have until tomorrow, at the very latest.”
So soon.
Freya nodded firmly. She could do this. This was the choice she’d made, and she had to continue forward. “All right. Do you think Eldridge will be in our rooms? Should I prepare myself for another argument?”
Lark wrapped her arms around Freya’s shoulders and put her chin on top of Freya’s head. “I think you should prepare yourself for quite the argument, my dear. Eldridge is going to fight tooth and nail, regardless of whether you already have the magic inside you. I think we can all safely assume that.”
“Great,” Freya muttered. “Just great.”
