**DAPHNE**
The ground shakes beneath my feet as we walk toward the glowing aura of lights encompassed by dancing faeries. They pulse with the beat of the war drums in halos of tangerine honey, splashing toward the sky between fires. Creating a devastating mood despite all the laughter that choruses within the crowd. A macabre dance that is both jovial and threatening all at once, built from steps made from battle and loss, and the blessings of victory sweet.
There are hundreds of them. Soldiers in an array of colors and a variety of shapes. Winged Fae float around the fire in a macabre ballet. Tents line the sides of the festivities. Built from the black bark of the trees and freshly skinned coats. It is a savage sight indeed, albeit a beautiful one.
Although I still shiver from the cold of the river’s rapids, some of this is thwarted by Ash’s cloak which he wrapped around me on the riverbank. With my hand in his, we bring up the rear of this small, unwelcome addition to the revelry of Cinder Fae. Klyesque and Rojelio walk about six feet in front of us, with Azrael another six feet ahead of them. The faeries on each side of our path do not cease in their dancing, yet a soft silence seems to pass over them with our approach.
“What is this?” I whisper toward Ash.
He growls just below his teeth, pulling me closer to him as we pass the first of the giant pyres that rage with yellow fire. “You have trespassed on their shores and now we must answer for it.”
“Seriously?” I hiss. “I didn’t want to be eaten! I didn’t mean to trespass anywhere.”
His silver eyes glow in the light with wicked anger. “I told you to stay below.”
My eyebrows draw together as I note the irritation in his voice. Yanking my hand from his I attempt to cross my arms in front of my chest defiantly.
“Daphne,” he scolds, reaching for my hand again and drawing it back to him along with my body. “Now is certainly not the time.”
“Tell that to yourself,” I snap.
He smirks, his muscles tensing against me. “I simply cannot wait to get you back to the castle where I can punish you for your lying mouth and your brazen trickery.”
I attempt to yank my hand from his once again, but his fingers are like steel threads that weave our palms together.
“I never lied to you,” I grind out. “And I tire of saying so.”
“Oh, is that right?” He whispers, his lips on my ear as we pass the last of the fires and advance on the final tent. “We shall see what you tire of when this is through.”
I glare at him as our group comes to a stop, gasping as he fairly tosses my hand from his. He is studying me with betrayal in his eyes and his body is thrumming with electric energy. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he wanted to zap me with it.
Azrael clears his throat, “You may enter little trespasser. The Queen of Cinder Fae will be your judge.”
Ash’s gaze snaps forward. “The Queen?”
Azrael smiles, a wide full-toothed grin. “Yes. My mother is inside. After our last battle she has deigned to join us on the river toward the north.” He nods toward me and Klyesque. “Both of you. Inside, now.” His tone is not unfriendly, but it is not nearly as charming as before as he lifts the flap and I follow behind Klyesque, Ash on my heels. Azrael stops him by placing a swift hand on Ash’s chest. “Not you,” he says coolly.
“If she is hurt in any way-” Ash starts.
“Then you and I will get that fight that you’ve been aching for.” Azrael coos in a voice that drips with disdain. “You know the law as well as the enforcement of it. You, of anyone, should understand the need for this.”
I can feel Ash’s frustration as Klyesque and I step beyond the furs. His anger is a terrible and tangible thing and for a moment I fear for what he might do, so I turn around and smile. “It’s okay Ash,” I say, meeting his eyes. “We will be fine.”
He says nothing, his mouth set in a grim line before he nods stiffly and turns away, trembles of lightning buzzing from his fingertips.
At least I know he still feels protective of me. Despite what he may believe is true.
The fur flap drops from Azrael’s fingertips and I turn to face the barely lit space beyond. A throne, built from what appears to be skulls of different creatures and strips of black leather, looms ahead of us. Far too late do I realize that Klyesque has hit her knees, her sword wedged into the dirt before her. A woman is seated on the throne, shrouded in so much darkness that she is difficult to see.
“Oh!” I gasp, taking Klyesque’s lead and dropping to the ground next to her. “Forgive me, your majesty, I was not aware you were present.”
A half snort, half chuckle escapes Klyesque’s throat and she tilts her head in my direction.
“You need not bow sweet pet,” a soothing, musical voice tinkers past the darkness toward my ears. Sparkles of golden fire dancing like notes in the wind emit from the mouth of this shadowed queen before me, catching on lanterns on each side of her. Illuminating her in a soft orange light. She is lovely. With skin so bronze it glimmers and eyes so bright they seem to churn with fire. Her long sun bright locks fall in a cascade of braids on one side of her perfectly shaped head and her mouth is open in a dazzling smile. She nods to me, leaning forward to whisper, “For I know what they do not. There have been whisperings of you for some time now.”