A Betrayal of Storms by Ben Alderson

Chapter 4

I pressed a hand to my chest, trying to still the thundering of my heart. My stomach spasmed as a wave of sickness threatened to claw itself up and out of my throat.

I hardly registered when the ground began to shake, and the beating I had mistaken from within me sounded from around the camp. If it was not for the acute instinct to keep myself alive, I would never have taken my eyes off the dead man before me.

Tearing my focus from the body, I watched a... miracle, a scene pulled directly from the textbooks that I had devoured as a child.

Fey, a horde of them in gleaming, brass armour, burst into camp. They rode on large stags whose antlers created a shield of interwoven bone. The Hunters stood no chance as they broke beneath the heavy hooves of the creatures. Blades of silver swung freely at the sides of the stags, cutting down any lucky Hunter who were not crushed beneath their weight.

Hunters fell, overwhelmed by thrice the number of warriors. And all without the fey needing to dismount.

Countless fey broke free from the distant shadows of the Wychwood boundary, dust clouds blurring the path behind them as they rode with great speed towards us. By the time the final fey met the camp, not a single Hunter was left breathing. Bodies littered the camp, acting as a cushioned rug when the fey finally dismounted.

All the fey focused their attention on freeing those in the cages. I watched as those with cloaks the shape and colouring of autumn leaves unlocked doors, allowing the streams of captured to flood out into the open.

Kayia and Lia joined the crowds. Free. They were free.

And I was left alone, surrounded by the explosion of ice with the body of a human still bleeding behind me.

"Are you hurt?" a deep voice spoke. The fluttering in my chest exploded as the sudden presence formed a shadow across me. I felt the trickling of calming coldness spread across my skin as the lid of that box within me began to creep open once again.

Looking up from my perch on the ground, I raised a hand to block out the glare of light that danced over the deep, brass armour of the figure. Up close I could see it was more gold, with hues of honey and cedar. Squinting against the light, I made sense of the person presented before me. His face was covered mostly by the sharp, edged helmet, but there was no denying the tall points of two ears that stuck out proudly. And his eyes. They shone like twin diamonds, so bright they matched the silver of the sword he held, directed towards me.

"Not yet..." I replied, gaze snapping to the sharp point of his weapon. "Do you always ask such questions before dealing a deathly blow?"

Slowly the fey warrior lowered the tip of the sword, pressing the end into the ground. I could not deny the relief that pooled within me. I watched warily as he leaned on it as though it was a staff or walking stick. "From what I can see, you will deal far greater damage than I could." He offered a hand, the cream material of the glove flexing beneath the tug of his long fingers. "It is not befitting for you to stay on the ground. Stand."

I hesitated, fingers digging into the dirt at my side. "You killed them all."

"So you should trust me." His fingers flexed, impatient as they waited for me to take them. "The Hunters would have done far worse if given a chance. And we did not kill them all. You helped..."

He turned his head, the shape of his helmet emphasising the line of his jaw. I followed his gaze and looked back to the severed body of the executioner. Ice melted beneath the warm blood which still hissed as it dribbled down the frozen stumps of his legs.

"I...I." I could not explain it. What had happened, what I had done. None of it made sense. It seemed my mind could not even bother to piece the puzzle together.