A Betrayal of Storms by Ben Alderson

Chapter 3

Itook to breathing in and out my mouth as the Hunters lit a pyre sometime in the late morning. It did not take long for the sickening smells of burning flesh to thicken in the air as the fey's body fuelled the flames. Above the bedlam of the camp, I was certain I could hear the popping and crackling of her bones as the fire ate past layers of flesh and muscle, devouring far deeper.

Like twigs in a hearth, her destruction sounded so, painfully... mundane. As though something horrific did not melt away within the fire. Her body turned to ash as though that was what she was meant for.

An overwhelming, guttural pain in my stomach did wonders at smothering the foreign ache in my chest. From frantic beats of a large bird's wings, it now felt like that of a subtle flutter of an insect. I had swallowed back gags, whereas others in the cramped cage let their guts spill across the floor. Still barefoot, splatters of vomit splashed freely against them, only urging me to empty my already empty stomach.

My mind flirted with ideas of escape. Wychwood was so close, a wall of trees that gave way to only shadow beyond. If I could get out, somehow break free and run, then I could find help.

But thoughts were soon shot down by the arrow of reality. Hunters flooded through the camp as the hours passed by. More horses pulled black-metal cages, unloading their cargo as they had with me upon arrival. Whatever this was, whatever these men and women were doing, was organised perfectly. More arrived, unloading cages only to fill them again with others. But the fey they carted into the cage-on-wheels each had the metal cuffs around their necks. It was soon obvious that those were of more interest to the Hunters. But why?

Kayia, the mother to the small child, cleared her dry throat and pointed to a horse and cart that had just been loaded with chained fey and began to leave the camp. "They keep doing this, taking some but leaving others. Those fey they..." she fought back a cry, clasping a hold of her child who held onto her for dear life. "...what they did to her will happen to the rest. I know it."

"Why them?" I asked, gripping the cold black bars and squinting to try and see something, anything that would distinguish the fey that left, to us.

"It has been whispered in court of humans who prey on our kind. Hunting for those of us who possess abilities. Magic. I was a fool to think it was only warnings to keep us away from this side of Wychwood. But alas, it was not a warning. Did they not share the same warnings from your court?"

I shook my head, not willing to admit the truth of my heritage. "When I arrived one of them said something about a test."

"They did the same with me and Lia. But we, like you, seem to be the unlucky ones."

Although my mother was a mystery, I knew much about the fey. It had been required learning during schooling. Teachings of the four courts and their histories, those who ruled them and the power of what it meant to be fey. It had been hundreds of years since the Wychwood Accords were signed by the royal lineage of all courts, and the firstborn king. Since then the fey had very much kept to their realm, and the humans to theirs.

Until now, I guess.

I fought the urge to lift a finger to my own ears. They had usually made me stand out stark against the humans I lived among. But here, in this cage and with those around me, I looked no different.

"Did your... court whisper on why they are taken?" I asked, forcing a smile to the small girl who huddled between us. I was cautious as she listened in quietly, and there was something about her wide stare that screamed of intelligence, as though she could see through my illusion of skipping the questions I did not want to answer.

"It is not certain." Kayia's pale brows pinched, causing lines to spread across her forehead. "The humans have longed for power for generations. If it was not for the accords they would have demanded it long ago."