Traps, Tricks, and Beasts [Book 2 Complete][Fantasy, Adventure, Underdog]

The pest followed Squirt through the halls, sneaking through the shadows with her. She had thought he’d be teasing her more. Instead, the silence was companionable. When she glanced back at him, he returned to the gesture game, taking his turn.

Though she shot him a mild glare, once she faced forward again, she did her gestures behind her back as they avoided the other, larger, more powerful fey moving about the Keep.

It was almost disappointing when they reached the wolves’ den and he hadn’t lost the game yet. They were up to one hundred and thirty-seven now, and she’d be damned if she’d admit defeat.

They reached the den just as Tobias was exiting out of it, and the wolf’s face lit up once more. “Perfect. Mind if I borrow Fel for a couple of hours?”

Squirt froze, her shoulders tense, and eyed Tobias suspiciously.

The pest glanced between them before raising up his hands in a gesture of peace. “I am happy to assist, but my first priority will be the safety of the greenlings.”

Tobias frowned, crossing his arms. “If that’s your priority, why are you here?”

Squirt’s expression flattened while the pest answered, “I have a barrier set up. I know who comes in and out. I’m monitoring.” He glanced at Squirt. “As of now, everyone who is expected has returned, and no one unexpected has arrived.”

Squirt glanced away, her arms crossed, in no way touched by this.

Tobias let out a low whistle. “Damn. Kenna went to the carriage storage earlier but didn’t mention any barrier.”

The pest beamed proudly and gestured at Squirt. “Only the huntress has spotted it so far. Even Zhadin did not see it until she did.”

Which meant he had talked to Zhadin somehow, someway, without her.

Tobias’s eyes slid over to Squirt with a little too much assessment as he hummed in thought. “Huntress?”

The prince winced, rubbing the back of his head awkwardly as a flush rose to his cheeks. “I am… uh… courting is… now is not the time. For it. Courting.”

Squirt could feel Tobias’ burning curiosity as he fixed her with a stare.

“I see… so… you’re not courting Braveheart?”

The pest held up his hands. “Ah, I am not not courting, but uh…” He faltered, searching for the right words before gesturing at himself. “It is not about me, or so I am learning.”

Squirt deliberately refused to look at the wistful expression the pest gave her.

The corners of Tobias’s lips curled in a smug, entirely-too-pleased grin. “Hm, is that so? Well, then what I have in mind shouldn’t interfere with that plan. I need you to babysit Dusty for me.”

Squirt blinked rapidly, “What—”

Tobias continued, barreling over her objections. “He’s a greenling, so it counts, and Kenna needs a night off. So come with me and I’ll explain the situation while Braveheart takes a nap… Zhadin?”

The fell stepped from the shadows, their head cocked.

Tobias let out a low whistle. “Damn, Kenna really was right. Make sure she takes a nap. We’re taking a night off, and she needs some rest beforehand.”

Squirt glowered, knowing both he was right and being annoyed that she was basically being treated like an errant grumpy child. “I don’t need a fucking guard.” She did. “And I don’t need a nap.” She really did.

He winked. “I’m sure you two can entertain yourselves.”

Gods damnit, he didn’t have to say the quiet part out loud—

“Have fun!” He said brightly. “I’ll be back in two hours with Kenna.”

With that, he strutted off down the hallway, the pest shooting her one last encouraging smile before turning to trot along after the smug wolf.

Squirt rolled her eyes at them both before heading into the den, muttering about psychopaths.

Zhadin followed in their fey form for once, not their true form, shutting the door behind them and leaving Squirt alone with them.

Squirt muttered to herself as she started building a pile of furs to bury herself in. Pile made, she wedged herself in between, grumbling about overbearing fey who had no business telling her what to do.

Ignoring, naturally, that she was doing exactly what they told her to do.

A few minutes passed, but she struggled to relax no matter how inviting her little cave of furs was. Finally, the soft tendrils of Zhadin gently touched her wrists and ankles. She scowled, trying to ignore the way her body was immediately relaxing. They were smooth to the touch. A silkiness unlike anything else. Her fingers ended up rubbing over the tendrils, finding more comfort in their familiarity, before, finally, she drifted off, her grasp on the shadowed lengths as gentle as it was unyielding.

An hour later, Tobias was tapping his foot impatiently in Lord Everwinter’s office. Kenna, Dusty, and Feldan were all in attendance. Feldan fidgeted, his discomfort with the mostly silent office obvious, where the only sounds came from the scratch of Lord Everwinter’s quill against parchment, the scratch of Dusty’s quill against his board, and the rhythmic tapping of Tobias’s foot.

Feldan fidgeted with his fingers against the wall behind a couch, using the rhythms of the room to craft a new song he’d been working on for the greenlings. One he wanted to share with the huntress’s “old friend.”

Though she had said friend, Feldan thought it was more. He had no evidence to support this, only a hunch. The way the other greenling had looked at his godd—no, the huntress, he stressed to himself—reminded him of how he used to look at his favorite brother every time the fey returned from whatever excursion he went on. The excitement. The worry. The awe.

So… closer to sisters? Maybe?

Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

They certainly looked similar enough, although the other one was no comparison for hi—the huntress.

He did have to admit that it had been adorable to see her brief jealousy of his attentions to her “old friend.”

Thinking about it, more than anything, they must have been sisters in spirit for her to have had that kind of reaction. Never was jealousy felt keener than by siblings, after all.

Even if she was just an old friend, he still hoped his haphazard plan might work.

Feldan started humming a tune he thought would fit with the words he’d already drafted, the scene of h—the huntress smiling in the quartermasters playing on repeat in his mind’s eye. It had been the first time he’d seen the huntress smile at her people with any amount of friendliness all week. As usual, she was more likely to scowl, but the scowls had lacked the hidden smiles she pretended not to have.

Maybe crafting a song to tell of the huntress’s exploits would help. With the assistance of this friend of hers, it might just be possible.

Perhaps it was selfish. Perhaps he was making it about him again. He couldn’t help it. He just wanted to bring her the same smile he’d seen an hour ago as she spoke with the others, that soft one with a mischievous glint tucked into the corners.

Tobias had assured him he could visit the quartermaster’s once the “guests” arrived, but had not explained further, leaving Feldan to stand, fidgeting, distracting himself by crafting a heroic ballad of the huntress’s best qualities.

And ignoring the possibility of her hating him more.

A knock came on the door. Tobias threw up his hands. “Finally. Sure as hell took his sweet time.” Turning, he opened the door to reveal a serious young man—too young to have reached full maturity, but old enough to still have plenty of wisdom.

He, like most blood children, looked nothing like his brother. His skin was pale, his features leaner and more angular, his dark red hair full and tousled on his head, his eyes a bright, intense pink. Still, the similarity between their core magics was like a fingerprint most fey could identify easily enough even with opposing elements.

Lord Bartos Regali of Everwinter’s younger brother, Ixion Regali. A fey of spring and fall to Bartos’ winter and summer.

Their magic shared a similar core as they had the same parentage, but genetics with magic was a complicated business, and one child could have multiple fathers. Technically, even multiple mothers, as all the magics in a mate circle affected the unborn child, contributing to the unique imprint of a fey’s magic beyond just what elements they wielded best.

In their case, they shared the same fathers but different mothers, born from the same circle.

Ixion bowed to Bartos in greeting, followed closely by a couple of other youths that had followed him here from the Capital. “You wanted to see me?”

Bartos frowned, but before he could speak, Tobias stepped forward. “Yes, yes, about that—here’s the deal.” He pointed to Feldan. “Fel, you get babysitting duty on these guys. They’ll be the guards. You’re here in case something goes wrong. You get to be their supervisor.”

Feldan blinked, wondering if he was the only one who thought this was a terrible idea.

He wasn’t.

Tobias plowed forward, turning to the teens, jerking a thumb at the disguised. “He’s the supervisor and will be checking in on you throughout the night. If you need him, he’ll either be here, in the quartermasters, or in the carriage storage in the stable. He’s your backup in case anything actually goes wrong. You are to protect Dusty, here, for the night. Got it?”

The teens exchanged glances, one of them asking, “Why are we guarding a gree—” before she was elbowed in the stomach and hushed by her peers.

Tobias answered breezily, “Because I said so, duh. If you can’t guard him, why would I let you guard anyone?”

Ixion nodded, a determined and earnest glint in his eye that was echoed by the other three, even the one who had attempted to ask why.

“Good.” Tobias crossed his arms over his chest, giving them a stern eye reminiscent of a parent warning a child to behave. “You wanted to see what life was like as a member of the Guard and not just a politician. A lot of it is boring. Watching someone and nothing happens. Get used to it, because the one time you slip up is the one time they kill your charge, and trust me, you’ll never forgive yourself for it.”

They nodded once more, the air around them solemn and serious.

Feldan didn’t really understand why they needed to be so serious, but as he’d been practicing, he didn’t interrupt or question it.

Even if Bartos noted the questions all over Feldan’s face, the others, miraculously, didn’t.

Tobias clapped his hands together once. “Excellent.” He turned to Feldan and said, “If he dies, I’m pinning it on you.”

Feldan was aghast at the declaration. He was here for hi—the huntress. Not babysitting Bartos’ youngest sibling.

Then his eyes fell back on the greenling on the couch, remembering who he was actually responsible for. He straightened, his hands in his pockets, and shot the greenling named Dusty a friendly smile.

Dusty recoiled.

Lord Everwinter interrupted, turning to Dusty and asking, “How many left?”

Dusty tore his eyes away from the faltering Feldan, bowing respectfully to the lord as he stood before answering, “Thirty more, my lord. They plan to gather in the quartermaster’s tonight to finish the last of them.” Then his eyes traced over to Kenna. “Though…”

Lord Everwinter clocked the look, leaning forward over his desk and assessing the room. Having come to a conclusion, he nodded once to himself and turned his attention back to Dusty. “May I suggest you take the night off, relaxing in the library? The guards will be practicing their trade and need only guard the entrance from my office.”

Dusty visibly relaxed. “But what of the final thirty?”

“Give your supplies to that one—” he nodded at Feldan, “—and he will finish the final thirty.”

Feldan’s eyes darted between them curiously, nervous he might mess up this opportunity if he spoke.

The lord continued. “I believe the rest in the quartermasters will know what to do. He only need provide the supplies and help them cut their hair.”

Dusty glanced over, appraising Feldan, who straightened and smiled again. “… another friend of Squirt’s, I assume?”

Ixion’s attention snapped to Dusty. “You know Squirt?”

Tobias frowned. “How do you know the name Squirt?”

Ixion gave him a confused look. “What do you mean how do I know the name Squirt, she’s the pixie from the incident. Unless there are more than one named Squirt?”

Tobias stiffened. Then said, “Kenna, I figured out one of the two kidnappings.”

Lord Everwinter calmly said, “Down, Kenna,” just before her blade touched his little brother’s bare skin.

Eyes wide in shock and a touch of fright, having not even seen her move, Ixion let out a shaky breath and came to terms with the death he’d almost gone through, Kenna’s dark brown hair falling slowly back to her shoulders as it caught up to the rest of her.

Tobias merely gave a disappointed sniff, his hazel eyes narrowed and bright with barely contained contemptuous rage.

Ixion’s tan skin paled considerably. He’d never been inner pack with his brother, but he was still family. Never before had any pack member turned their ire against him, only for.

He had known Kenna and Tobias since before he could walk.

And yet, had his brother not intervened, Kenna would have removed his head from his shoulders, and Tobias would have watched.

The emotional distance between the two brothers had never been starker.

Kenna stared blankly at where her blade gently kissed the young man’s neck. Then, as suddenly as the tension appeared, it disappeared. Kenna dropped the blade from his neck, sheathing it with a sigh and an unrepentant, “Sorry.”

***

Dusty, meanwhile, was torn between a touch of terror, a mountain of respect, and a sudden awe. Really taking in for the first time how much of this was because of their care for Athereon.

For Squirt.

In a way, even his own fortunes were owed to her. He might not have had the context, but now multiple exceedingly powerful entities had been inclined to kill for her if necessary.

A sudden snap of understanding explained Lord Everwinter’s reaction to his declaration about greenlings and the Whims.

It wasn’t her who felt the Whims, but those around her.

Like the gods themselves were bending the rules.

***

Tobias broke the awkwardness with a casual, “Well, tomorrow begins an intensive training course that I’ll put a little bit of personal attention to. How well you do tonight will probably affect whether you die or just want to.” Without giving the young fey time to really process his words, he turned to Lord Everwinter. “Lumin, you have one hour, and then I’m ripping you from that desk if I have to. Got it?”

The lord chuckled. “Understood.”

“Kenna? Let’s go shopping. I have plans.”

An intrigued grin spread over her face at his declaration, and without any further ado, he grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the room.

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