Of Werewolves and Curses by Emma Hamm
Chapter 3
Eldridge opted for horses this time, and Arrow was less than happy about it. He grumbled from the back of Freya’s horse about how horrible the travel conditions were. He was more a cart kind of goblin. Or at the very least, a goblin who would ride in a carriage.
Not a horse.
Never a horse.
If she had to listen to him complain any more, she would explode. The goblin seriously underestimated how much patience she would have during this trip. If he said one more thing, she was going to dump him off the saddle and ride off into the sunset. He could walk to the Summer Court.
Eldridge kicked his horse until they were walking side by side. “Arrow, you can always walk if this is such a great inconvenience.”
The goblin dog snapped his jaw shut and glared at the Goblin King. “You know I can’t keep up.”
“No, I wouldn’t imagine you could. But I’d give you a map.”
Arrow grumbled and settled back down on the pack he was holding onto for dear life. Freya couldn’t say she was the biggest fan of the horses, either. They weren’t normal creatures like she was used to in the mortal realm. These horses were larger, nearly two men tall and wide enough that she had to sit side saddle.
She glanced over at Eldridge, who looked too pleased with himself.
“You know,” she started. “We didn’t have to take the horses.”
“Of course not, but I enjoy riding them.” He patted his own horse on the neck. “Don’t you?”
She wasn’t going to answer that. He already knew what she was going to say, considering the bright glint in his eyes.
The horses weren’t all that bad, but their travel was now uncomfortable and she also would have preferred the carriage. Though, they had lovely fresh air to breathe on this journey, rather than a stuffy box with all three of them packed inside.
“Fine,” she admitted. “This is a lovely way to travel and I do feel better for having all this air around us.”
“I thought you might.”
Arrow snarled from behind them, but didn’t chime in with his opinion. They both knew what it would be, anyway.
She let them travel in silence for a few more moments. Tilting her head back, she let her horse walk as he wished and enjoyed the sun on her face. A slight breeze toyed with her hair, tangling in the long strands and brushing them off her shoulders. Every step brought them farther from the chill of autumn and into the heat of the Summer Court.
“You know,” she said, starting the conversation that they needed to have, even though she didn’t know if he would tell her the truth. “When I was first in the Summer Court, it appeared that you knew the Summer Lord well.”
“Did I?” Eldridge asked, playing dumb to her question. “I don’t know why you’d think that.”
“Well, because you were sitting on matching thrones, for a start. But also because there were a few jabs that each of you flung at each other that were more brotherly than they were noble.” She frowned, trying to remember the exact words.
Strangely, she couldn’t. There were so many moments between the Summer Court and now that she honestly remembered little other than the highlights of that journey. The elves without faces. The beautiful castle with all its seashell glory. She even remembered the Summer Lord himself, wearing his pressed white suit and the gleam of his skin like a rare pearl. Even the labyrinth where the Goblin King had tried to trick her into getting lost.
But that was it. She didn’t remember what was said or even how she had gotten there.
Eldridge shrugged and then relented to her questioning. “The Summer Lord and I were childhood friends. Both young noblemen who had no right to be nobles at the time. We were wild and perhaps a little too... aggressive with our tactics in learning how to be men. We were friends for a very long time and then had a falling out.”
Oh, she had so many questions. Freya shielded her eyes from the sun so she could look at him with a little more focus. “You were friends? And aggressive tactics? What on earth are you talking about?”
Arrow poked his head around her shoulder, resting his chin against her arm. “He means they were idiots back in the day. My father used to tell me about those foolish things they did when they were young. Both of them were trying to prove themselves worthy of a throne so they went off gallivanting around the countryside trying to bring back the most impressive kill. Or woo the most beautiful lady.”
Eldridge was quick to interrupt his friend. “We never did any of that. Most of the court thought we both were unfit for a throne and ignored us. We were just children trying to prove ourselves.”
“What kind of kills did you think you were going to bring back?” she asked. Freya tried very hard not to focus on the latter because that would only make her frustrated and jealous.
“Mostly the heads of fabled beasts. A few stag were known to glow in the dark, their hides were so white. And there were a couple...” He paused, then sighed. “Werewolves back in the day. They were menaces to all faeries, and we wanted to take care of that issue for our people.”
“Ah.” So that was why he hadn’t wanted to tell her. “You were worried I wouldn’t like that you hunted the wolves. I assumed you did, Eldridge. You’ve been around much longer than my father has been alive.”
“Perhaps.” He shifted on his horse, gripping the reins too tight. “But that doesn’t make me any less ashamed of my actions. Even back then, I knew it was wrong to hunt them.”
As much as Freya wanted to say he was right, she wasn’t so sure. What she had read in those books made her think the fae had no choice in the matter. The wolves, like her father had proven, were too strong. They hunted the poor faeries down and pulled them apart. Rarely did they eat their prey, they simply wanted to feel flesh beneath their claws.
But his brows were furrowed, and she knew he was already slipping into those dark memories that made him feel like a monster. She couldn’t let him linger there. Not in the war, not with the death of the wolves that were now too close to her father. He didn’t deserve that.
She changed the subject to something she really didn’t want to talk about. “And the ladies?”
Arrow ducked back to his spot on the horse.
At the same time, Eldridge turned to look at her with a shocked expression. “The who?”
“The ladies you were attempting to woo. The most beautiful women in the court, I assume. Who were they?” She looked straight ahead and tried not to give away the anger riding her shoulders. “I can’t imagine what the lovely women of the faerie courts must look like.”
“Oh, they far surpass any creatures you may have seen in your life. Their skin is made of moonlight, some of them of darkness. Their hair is spun sun rays and their eyes are chips of gemstones. No one is more lovely than the ladies of the faerie courts.” He sighed dramatically.
She wanted to hit him. Freya knew that this would be the answer, of course, but it still stung. She would never be one of those faeries made of the elements and most beautiful places in the realms.
Eldridge chuckled.
“What?” she asked, refusing to look at him still.
“Freya.”
“What do you want, Eldridge?”
He snapped his clawed fingers in front of her face, forcing her to look at the laughter dancing in his eyes. “None are as lovely as you, my dear. I would never be so foolish as to compare you to the fickle and far off fae. Not a single one captured my attention as you have, and none ever will again.”
If she blushed any harder, Freya would set her horse on fire. It was so easy to get caught up in those jealous thoughts that she would never be enough compared to the faeries he’d been with before. But she also knew the reality of their story.
He had chosen her. Not one of them. And Eldridge could have chosen one of the fae at any point. Every single day he reminded her that he had and would continue to choose her. She needed to remember that a little more.
Sighing, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and nodded. “Right. Well, I suppose the only other thing I want to know is why you and the Summer Lord are no longer friends. And don’t try to get around it by saying you lived different lives and drifted away from each other. I saw you two together, and there were no remnants of fond memories.”
Eldridge stiffened. He gripped the reins a little too tightly again, uncomfortable with this question. “The Summer Lord and I had a difference in opinion.”
Freya waited for him to continue, but he didn’t. He let the conversation end there and would have kept on with their journey without ever explaining himself.
She huffed out an angry breath. “Well? What was the difference in opinion?”
“Do you really need to know?”
“What if it’s important? Yes, I need to know!”
Eldridge threw the reins down and tossed his hands up into the air. “I didn’t think he should become the Summer Lord. I thought it was too much pressure for him, and I didn’t see his ability to be a good leader. And when I told him that, he threw me out of his court and vowed I’d never set foot in it again.”
She could understand how that would be hurtful, especially from someone who the Summer Lord had thought was a very close friend. “But obviously you did visit the court again.”
“I did.” His eyes narrowed on the road ahead of them. “When I surpassed them all and became the Goblin King.”
Ah, and she supposed that was also a pain point between the two of them. They had both wanted a throne, although Eldridge had only wanted to be the Autumn Thief. And he had been for a time, before it was revealed just how truly powerful he really was.
She could only imagine that stung when the Summer Lord had wanted to prove himself alongside his friend, who was no longer his friend at all.
Sighing, she kept her eyes on the road as well. “I hope that won’t sting in his mind for too much longer. After all, he has a court just like you.”
“And I rule over him. The friend who betrayed him when he needed me most.”
Right. That didn’t bode well for the end of their journey.
Freya waited until she saw the Summer Castle appear on the horizon. It was beautiful with its abalone shell walls and the whirling towers that rose like pointed seashells. White sand spread out around the base of it and the gardens were lush, deep emerald that spread around the entire land like everything could grow in this soil.
Elves dotted the distance. They wandered through the gardens and pet the plants as they went. They lived in a jungle of greenery and blue skies.
She had the strangest thought: that no one here had ever experienced hardship. They had never gone hungry and they likely never would. If only they could understand what it felt like to have their stomach crawling with hunger, then they might understand humans a little better.
Maybe they would all get their faces if they did that.
“Here we are,” Eldridge said. “I hope you’re ready for what we’re about to do.”
“I suppose I am. I haven’t ever been to a court I couldn’t handle yet.” Freya straightened her posture, hoping she looked intimidating and prepared for this moment. “Are you ready?”
“I’m never ready for a trip to the Summer Court.” His haunted expression darkened as they got even closer to the castle. “I know he’ll help us. He’s never been able to stop himself from being called to the hunt. I’m just not certain where he’ll go from there. He’s unpredictable at best. Always be on your guard.”
She remembered. The Summer Lord had made an impression when she first met him, and not in a good way. The man had been mostly disappointing. Freya would never forget the acrid scent of alcohol on his breath, or how she had gotten him so drunk that a mere mortal had stolen from him. It wasn’t impressive.
It was downright sad.
One of the elves caught sight of them and ran into the castle. She knew this was the moment when they had to look their best. Freya squared her shoulders, smoothed her pale blue riding outfit into place, and kept her eyes straight ahead. She didn’t look at any of the elves, because she didn’t want them to see the fear behind her visage of bravery.
The doors to the castle opened as they rode up to the front gates. The Summer Lord looked exactly as she remembered him.
He wore a gold suit this time, and Freya knew it wasn’t meant to be mistaken for yellow. He glowed like some kind of Sun god. The fabric appeared to be stitched with actual metal because the collar was stiff as he walked down the steps and approached them. His dark skin was glorious, oiled to perfection and highlighting the vivid darkness of his eyes. The entire sea was contained in the depths of his eyes. But not a kind sea.
“Welcome back to the Summer Court,” he called out, opening his arms wide even as his eyes narrowed on them. “To what do I owe the absolute pleasure of the Goblin King and the Queen Killer’s presence?”
If Eldridge replied, she feared they would lose all chances of getting the Summer Lord to help them. Freya cleared her throat and answered for him. “We’re looking for my father, and considering the tale is one of intrigue and magic, we thought you may like to help.”
“Your father?” He tilted his head to the side and pursed his lips. “I don’t think I’m very interested in hearing that story. Mortals are so tiresome.”
“He’s a changeling,” Freya replied. She knew that word alone would capture his attention, but she had no fear of saying who her father really was. “And then he was bitten by a werewolf when I was young.”
The Summer Lord’s eyes lit up with a burning passion. “Did you say werewolf?”
She nodded. “I did.”
He looked at the Goblin King, then back to her. With a sigh, the Summer Lord gestured for them to get off their horses. “Fine, then. I’ll suffer the Goblin King in my court for a little while. I’m curious to know more about your werewolf father and why you think he might be here.”
Well, it was a start. Freya made eye contact with Eldridge and shrugged. At least they’d gotten the Summer Lord’s attention for the time being.
