Prince of the Courts

Prologue

"The Shadowhunters think they have the power to strip us of our weapons and deny our legendary warriors their right to bear arms. I laugh in the face of this order. Let our warriors come forth now to entertain us with their skill and valour!" The Seelie Queen clapped her hands together twice and a gap opened behind and to the side of her throne.

Two-dozen Faerie knights, armed and armoured in splendour, marched forward. Great antlered helms, white chain-link mail, even a crusted bark-like armour streamed past the twisted throne until they stood before their Queen and knelt as one. Sera could see that many of them had the slimmer and smaller forms of females under beautiful armour, delicate hands braced on hilts or fingering blades strapped to thighs.

One, at the far end, was smaller than the rest and wore a double-bladed staff across their back. The blades were wickedly curved at the ends, and the weapon looked almost too large for the Faerie knight. Light-weight black leather armour covered the Faerie from head to toe, including a mask that covered their face from the eyes down. A shock of ice-white hair spilled down, nearly shoulder-length, leaving slightly pointed ears just visible. The knight's gaze was riveted on the Seelie Queen, and Sera moved even closer to the gnarled throne to get a better look. Something about this particular knight drew her in, and she crossed in front of the throne.

The knight's gaze snapped to Sera, looking right at her for just an instant. Eyes of the deepest emerald fixed Sera in place, holding her captive as surely as chains. This wasn't possible. It was a dream. No one could see her. A hint of confusion darkened the knight's expression and Sera used the distraction to wrench herself away, vanishing from where she stood in front of the throne. She found herself back in the crowd, just another spectator again.

The dream flashed again, and now the leather-clad Faerie knight was in the centre of the clearing, a make-shift arena, and the double-bladed staff was gripped in gloved hands. Sera had been wrong earlier; it wasn't too big. It fit every line of the knight perfectly, and she knew that it would be wielded with deadly grace.

The ground within the arena boundaries was rough and torn up. Many matches must have been fought already, but if Sera was seeing this one, it must be important.

There was a stirring at the eastern end of the clearing and Sera moved closer to hear what was being said. A massive man with eyes of two different colours was holding a horned helmet under one arm and was gripping the shoulder of another Faerie with his other hand. A long blade of hammered metal hung at the large Faerie's waist, black and twisted as if it had been burned over and over again. The Faerie he held had nearly black hair with a sheen of blue and green shot through, almost like it couldn't decide what colour to settle on. His eyes were two different colours as well, but both black and silver burned with equal intensity. He shook free of the other's grip and sneered.

"I will pay whatever blood-price the Queen has set to do battle with her whelp, Gwyn."

The larger Faerie shook his head slowly, sadly. "Let the past stay in the past, Kieran. The mortal world has seen many years pass since that day; let your heart see them pass as well."

Kieran's face twisted into a haughty sneer. "You cannot understand. I will do this thing, and then my heart will allow some of the pain to bleed away. Give me leave to fight, that I might find peace."

Gwyn settled back a bit within his great cloak, seeming to take the measure of the other Faerie, weighing his heart in those massive hands.

He tilted his head sideways, eyes narrowing as he studied the other Faerie. "You would fight to find peace, Hunter? You are still so young." He shook his head, and for a moment, Kieran's face fell until Gwyn added quietly, "Do what you must."