Of Fairytales and Magic by Emma Hamm
Chapter 6
“Istill don’t know why we can’t tell your family what is going on,” Eldridge grumbled as he tossed their trunk up onto the small carriage. “They’re going to think the worst if I return without you.”
Freya refused to respond. They’d already had this argument, and she would not bend. Her family did not need to know what she was doing. If she succeeded, then it would be a nice surprise for them. She’d return a new woman, far more powerful and with a court at her beck and call.
If she didn’t come home, then they would have blissful ignorance for a little while longer.
“Stop trying to change my mind,” she said, looking over her shoulder as her mother approached. “Let them have a few more months of happiness.”
Even if her mother would turn into a screeching harpy when she heard what Freya had done. She was going to hear this for the rest of her life, if they succeeded. And if they didn’t, well, she wasn’t so certain her mother was incapable of raising her child from the dead just to yell.
Spinning around, Freya plastered a bright smile onto her face and approached her family. “Thank you so much for letting us have some time alone. It’s just that the castle and the... well. All of it. We need some time to ourselves.”
Her mother matched her bright grin. “Of course! A newly engaged couple needs some time alone.”
At least Freya could relax, knowing that her family wasn’t worrying. Was that a selfish choice? Of course. But if Freya was the one risking her life, then she thought she had the right to be a little selfish.
Her mother squeezed her even tighter, then whispered in her ear, “I know something is going on, and I’m not going to ask what it is. Please be safe.”
Freya squeezed her back but didn’t respond at all. There wasn’t any truth she could give her mother. No help to ease the worry that already grew.
Somehow, her family always knew when something bad was happening.
With a bright, fake smile on her face, she leaned back and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mum. We’re off for an early honeymoon, and we’ll be back before you know it. Just keep everyone in line around here for me. You know how Esther can get. And the Autumn Thief is still healing.”
The last bit felt wrong to say. After all, Lark was no longer the Autumn Thief. Technically, Freya was.
The rest of her family approached, and there wasn’t another chance for her mother to speak. Esther and Lux gave out their hugs, arms squeezing Freya and Eldridge while hope glowed in their eyes. Freya assumed they were both thinking about when they could also have their own getaway. When they were finally old enough to enjoy escaping to the wilds of the faerie realms.
Her father glared at Eldridge with a fake snarl on his face. “You take care of my girl, you hear me?”
Eldridge rolled his eyes and clapped her father on the shoulder. “You know I always do.”
It felt like they were lying to everyone. Maybe Eldridge was right. She should have told them what was going on, but now she couldn’t. She’d already fabricated this lie, and Eldridge was kind enough to dance around the topic since he couldn’t lie at all.
Oh, she was an ass.
“I’ll miss you all,” she called out with a giggle that sounded fake, even to her own ears. “Don’t burn the castle down while we’re gone, please.”
And with that, Freya clambered on top of the small cart they were using to travel and kept her eyes straight ahead. Eldridge finished up and joined her, though he kept giving her a strange look.
She knew her actions were suspicious. But if she looked back at her family, then she was going to cry. They would know something was wrong and she wouldn’t get out of the castle for another couple of weeks. She didn’t have a couple of weeks to spare.
With a final nod toward her family, Eldridge cracked the whip, and they started forward. The cart careened away from the castle, filled with all the people she loved. All the people who didn’t know this was the first time she feared she wouldn’t come back.
Freya couldn’t speak for a while. She didn’t know how to talk about anything other than the fear soaring through her chest. What was she supposed to do now? Should she plaster on a brave face and keep pretending that she wasn’t burning up inside?
Rustling in the cart behind them made her turn around. Arrow poked his head out of a giant bag that was supposed to be filled with extra food for the trip. Instead, the sack was now covered in a fine layer of black and white fur. “That was callous, even for you Freya.”
At least she knew how to deal with him. She could handle a grumbling goblin dog. “I didn’t exactly have a choice, now did I?”
“We all have choices in this life. And I don’t appreciate you worrying everyone.”
“I didn’t.” Freya turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. “I did the exact opposite. They have no idea what’s going on, and now they won’t be worried while we’re gone.”
Arrow clambered up the cart and then plonked his bottom down between them. “And yet, they will worry because you are not with them. You can’t stop them from worrying about you, Freya. That’s what people do for those they love.”
She refused to believe that, no matter how true it was. Squeezing her arms tighter around herself, she nodded at the road. “What villages are we going past?”
Unfortunately, they hadn’t had a lot of time to explore the Autumn Court. It had been her favorite one all those months ago when she had fought the Goblin King for the very first time.
The cart rolled up to the edge of the boundary between kingdoms, and she stared at the line of wavering magic. It warped the sight of the kingdom beyond. Red and orange leaves blanketed the ground in a bright layer of color. The wind brushed crimson and ochre paint drops from branches and danced with fine ribbons of fallen leaves through the trunks of the trees.
Freya could already smell the crisp scent of apples and the cold bite of fall. She had loved this place so much. And now, she finally got to return and see the real Autumn Court.
“We’re not traveling through any of the villages,” Eldridge replied quietly. He cracked the whip, and the horses moved through the barrier into what was now Freya’s kingdom. “We’re going straight to the Stronghold. There’s only one path to go now, my love.”
The ominous words sent a shiver down her spine, as they always did. A stronghold didn’t have a good connotation to it. The very word suggested it was a place meant to keep people out in case of war or famine.
Or perhaps it was a building meant to keep people in.
Freya kept her eyes on the dirt path that led straight through the Autumn Kingdom. It was the only path she’d seen in the faerie realms that didn’t meander. This path was straight and narrow.
Scraggly trees curved overhead, their branches warped and odd. Everything seemed to get more terrifying the closer they were to the Stronghold. The ground darkened to an umber, like bloodstained earth. The trees leaned forward with the claws of their branches grasping at her hair. Even the birds stopped singing.
She held her breath, waiting for the first view of the Autumn Stronghold. The castle that should have housed the Autumn Thief and all her court, but seemed instead to have been left to ruin long ago. And when she did finally see the vast expanse of that building, Freya’s entire body clenched in fear.
The Autumn Stronghold was built to impose. Black water stains dripped down the gray stones of the boxy building. Not a single bit of the exterior had been touched by an artistic hand. Instead, it was rather like a mallet. Useful. Utilitarian. And completely without beauty.
It stood on the very edge of a cliff, surrounded by black water. Not because the water was deep. It bubbled, and thick inky balloons popped slowly. She couldn’t guess what filled the moat surrounding the Stronghold, but she’d once seen oil billow out of the ground and destroy a small section of the beach where she’d once lived. The glistening surface was eerily similar to that experience.
Lines of cages that hung off the sides framed the square building. Freya squinted her eyes because surely she hadn’t seen them correctly, but there it was. Skeletons still hung in the cages with vultures holding onto the metal rungs. They wouldn’t get a snack off those bones, but she feared they would never leave the poor souls alone, regardless.
Exhaling long and low, Freya bit her lip. “This is where the Autumn Thief is meant to live?”
“A long time ago, when the courts weren’t even a glimmer of a thought behind faerie eyes, this was where the old gods lived.” Eldridge slowed the cart so they could all stare in horror. “They were not kind gods. They were punishing and cruel. Every single one of them believed fear was the best way to control their people.”
Arrow shivered beside her, dread running through his body and lifting his hackles. “The old gods are a myth to our people now, even though we know they still live. The Autumn Thief is the only court leader who deals with them.”
“Why would anyone?” She eyed a vulture as it screamed and took flight. The beast circled overhead. “You all left the castle to rot, didn’t you? Why not leave them as well?”
Eldridge’s brows drew down, and he lifted a hand toward the vulture. It screamed again, but wheeled away from them in the air. “Someone has to watch them. Someone has to make sure they’re appeased, or we fear what they might do.”
Yet again, Freya felt that twist in her gut that threatened she might not make it this time. The old gods wanted to punish, apparently. They wanted to hurt and maim and instill fear in the people who should worship them.
Those were not the kind of gods she looked forward to meeting.
Eldridge picked up the reins again and shook his head. “Let’s go home, then.”
Home?
She so easily forgot this was where he had spent many years of his life. As the cart lurched forward, she held onto the seat and watched the castle loom ever closer. Here she was. Finally, at the place where she would be tested, tried, and measured. But was she ready for any of that?
The cart wheels rattled as they struck the last bit of dirt that gave way into broken cobblestone. The Stronghold seemed to hold its breath and when they reached the front gates, that breath blasted out in a great wind.
Freya heard a voice in her head. A few whispered words. “And so the Thief returns.”
It didn’t sound happy. In fact, she’d argue the voice sounded very much like whoever waited for them within those walls had been hoping for a chance to punish the Thief.
She wasn’t the same person they’d originally given this magic to, but she had stolen it. So, in a sense, she was more like the original Thief than many had been for years.
They stopped the cart in the courtyard. Great front doors towered over her head, but Freya stared up at them with her hands on her hips. The black wood with golden hinges had seen better days. The entire castle was well and truly abandoned.
“You know,” she mused. “Leaving the old gods alone might have been a bad idea. From the stories you told me, they don’t seem like the type who want to be ignored or neglected.”
Eldridge hopped off the cart and made his way toward their things. He was clearly ready to unpack, but still grunted at her words. “I’m sure they hated being left alone. But they made their own bed.”
The shattered windows of the Stronghold gleamed in the sunlight, reflecting the crimson forest beyond like a landscape of blood. “I don’t think it was smart,” she repeated. “After all, now I’m the one who has to suffer that punishment. They want someone to blame, Eldridge. And now I hold the title of Thief.”
“And you actually stole the magic.” He heaved a trunk off the cart and let it fall onto the ground with a solid thud. “Are you starting to understand why I called you an idiot?”
Arrow placed his paw over her shaking hands in her lap. “We’re both here with you, Freya. The old gods can’t send all of us away.”
The ground rumbled beneath their feet. Stones shook free from the top of the Stronghold and rained down upon their heads. They were all very lucky that none of the stones struck them. However, Freya heard the warning loud and clear.
“I don’t think they liked you saying that, Arrow,” she muttered. “If they wanted to throw us out, they could heave us from this landscape with a single thought.”
Eldridge snorted behind them, then returned to pulling their belongings off the cart. “You two will learn it's better not to insult the old gods. But everyone learns at their own speed, I suppose. Would you help me get everything off the damn cart so the horses can run off? Then I’ll show you around the dusty old building.”
She didn’t know how he got away with insulting the gods, but she wasn’t going to argue anymore. Freya clambered out of the cart and resolved to do whatever it took for them all to stay alive.
