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

When Squirt finally rose to consciousness, she knew she was safe. Groggy with whatever drug she’d been fed, it took several minutes before she was able to register Pakos using their bond to reassure her. She had been rescued.

Squirt couldn’t decide whether she was more embarrassed, angry, or relieved that she’d been rescued. At least nothing hurt. In fact, she was quite comfortable.

By Pakos’s smugness, she knew she was curled up against him.

Slowly, more details came into focus for her. Sound was next—agitated voices at low volumes. She was pretty sure she could hear the lords as they spoke in hushed tones. Then the humming of Qzi and the sharpening of a blade much closer than the lords.

It annoyed her that the sounds of the redcap were oddly comforting.

She finally opened her eyes to the white fluff of Pakos, lifting her head to see that she was in the command tent, along the very back corner, curled into Pakos’s side. Qzi was sharpening a blade right in front of her, clearly acting as a defender. Behind Pakos in the shadows of the tent, she could see the telltale tendrils of Zhadin reaching out from the shadows. One reached over to brush her cheek as she lifted her head, and she blinked groggily at it before dropping her head back down to Pakos’s fluffy side and snuggling further into it.

She was safe, and that was all that mattered.

A few hours later, based on the lighting change outside the tent, Squirt woke up for good, the last of the grogginess having faded.

With an annoyed grunt, she extracted herself from Pakos’s side and stalked off. Qzi stood to follow.

“Fuck off,” she muttered, “I’m going to take a shit.”

Pakos followed her whether she liked it or not.

Much to her irritation, as she came back from relieving herself, the eyes of everyone in the clearing were focused on her. She dropped her eyes, her face flushing as she ducked back into the tent, noting how she passed through a barrier as she did.

Immediately, Lord Prince Ranin gestured towards the opening of the tent and the flaps that had been rolled up to observe the camp rolled down. The sounds of the camp were gone.

Before the lord prince finished his gestured spell, Qzi kneeled in front of Squirt, rare despair on his face.

She scowled at him.

The audience in the tent was fairly small if incredibly powerful—Lord Prince Ranin, Lord Norland, Qzi, Zhadin, and Jul.

She could have done without Lord Norland being witness, but he and Lord Prince Ranin were quietly discussing something over a map, having returned to their discussion as soon as their privacy was secured.

Scanning warily over the tent one last time, Squirt returned her attention to Qzi.

Despondently, he said, “Forgive me, huntress, for failing you.”

Squirt reared back, but he didn’t notice, his eyes down on his knees, every inch of him in a mope.

“That’s twice now. No wonder you never accepted my gifts.”

Her fists clenched and she glared, but he still didn’t notice, too lost in his own pity party.

“I’m a failure of a redcap. I don’t even have a head to bring to you.”

Even his hat, normally a pointed cap, drooped morosely.

Gods, this was even worse than when the pest looked at her so pitifully.

Wait, why twice?

He muttered, “I don’t deserve to court you.”

Fury lit up every cell in her body. He was acting like the gods damned victim and she hated it with every fiber of her being.

Whatever. She didn’t need him. She didn’t even want him.

“I understand if you wish to banish me—”

Her body moved before her mind caught up as she decked him across the jaw, immediately drawing the attention of everyone in the space as he fell back with a clatter and a grunt.

She hissed out, “Fuck you, you piece of shit.”

His eyes wide, he held his hand to his jaw where she had clocked him and stared in a daze.

“I don’t need you, I don’t need anyone, if you’re going to leave then get the fuck out and leave.”

They both froze when her voice cracked on the last word, the threatening tears visible in her eyes. She grimaced, baring her teeth and willing the emotions she didn’t want or need to go away. Of course he would leave. Of course he would.

That didn’t bother her. It didn’t. It wasn’t like she wanted him around.

She didn’t.

She ducked her head, back ramrod straight and cheeks flushed in indignant fury at herself. Biting her lip, she got the tears to go away and managed a couple of steadying, deep breaths to calm herself. It was fine. She could just say the drugs were still in her system or something. Opening her mouth to excuse the indecent burst of emotion, just before her walls could slam down to shut him and everyone else out, her eyes drifted over to his. Her mouth open, a meaningless sound croaked out before she froze stiff at the sheer, radiant adoration on the redcap’s face.

He gave a happy sigh.

She closed her mouth, leaning back warily.

His smile broadened. “Me leaving made you sad, pricklebear?”

“No,” she answered a little too quickly, and they both knew it. She dropped her eyes away, her lips pressed and eyes wide. A blush began on her cheeks as she began questioning her own sanity. No. No way. She wouldn’t miss him. She didn’t miss him when she was alone, so why would it matter now?

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

***

Thoroughly frazzled by the entire exchange, the huntress’s normal veneer cracked as they all watched her struggle through now questioning herself, and genuine hope bloomed in Qzi’s heart for the first time in far too long.

Far, far too long.

***

Qzi lay there where he fell, staring up at Squirt’s flustered, mildly perturbed expression, thoroughly transfixed as he held the bruise on his chin with an almost loving tenderness.

She growled in frustration, baring her teeth and shrinking back from him like a wild animal.

Lord Prince Ranin politely cleared his throat. “When you have a moment, huntress…”

The color drained from her face, a flash of terror before it was hidden by her stony exterior that made several hackles in the room rise.

Lord Prince Ranin held up his hands. “Peace. Be as you were in the office.”

Her eyes flickered warily to Lord Norland and Jul, disliking immediately that her gut instinct was to trust Jul.

Because she did. And that was weird.

Lord Norland’s intensely gravelly voice spoke. “I have caused you much offense by mistake. I owe you much. If you need my oath of silence, I will give it.”

She reared back from that before her eyes narrowed on Jul.

Nope. She trusted him. And she hated it.

“Fine,” she bit out. “What the fuck happened?”

Lord Prince Ranin leaned back against the table they had set up, looking weary. “Half the soup had been given a light dose of the same drug. Even Lord Pakos was asleep until sunrise, though why is anyone’s guess. It was a nightmare—half the watch didn’t rouse from their sleep, and our focus was thinking we were under attack. When those who were awake all night waiting for an attack that never came saw the sun rise, no one questioned where you were until Hunter Qzi woke from his sleep. The trail was long since cold, and I believe you were probably asleep and unable to call for help until the next night when Pakos warped, I assume to you. The next morning, Chief Huntress Lobelia came in on her steed, carrying you and led by Lord Pakos.”

He sighed, giving her a moment for all that to sink in before he continued. “… there’s been some kind of mutiny. She reported your kidnapper specifically feeding the feybeasts, likely with the intention of making them overpowered. This fits your theory according to Hunter Jul, if a selection of the hunters across Norland were engaging in the same behavior.”

Squirt gave him a hard stare before blurting out, “None of that explains why he kidnapped me.” Nor why he’d been creepily gentle.

The lord prince dropped his eyes, clearing his throat to hide his wince. “Ah. Yes. That.”

It didn’t hide it well enough. She glared, her voice deceptively calm. “What. Happened.”

He cleared his throat again, his hand automatically going to his head and rubbing where she had hit him with the bamboo arrow shafts. “It seems the, uh… Skye Kingdom royal family has put out a bounty for the Great Athereon to be brought to their court alive and unharmed.”

Her gaze turned murderous. “Imma kill him.”

Lord Norland blinked repeatedly in confusion.

Lord Prince Ranin winced again, holding up his hands placatingly, “Now, because you have so many names—”

“And whose fault is that?” she snapped at him.

“—we’ve elected to keep your identity secret—”

“Great fucking job at that—”

“—a strategy which we’ve had to re-evaluate—”

“—can’t believe you—”

“—and so the Great Athereon will be returned to the Capital at the end of the campaign here in Norland while Mystva continues east away from Skye Kingdom. I will continue with a selection of the hunters on loan from the Great Athereon as this is now a threat to national security.”

She scoffed. “Which part?”

“The parts where Skye Kingdom is paying our hunters to purposely disrupt our ecosystem, a cult of believers in the ancient ways is helping them while trying to overthrow my mate, and where you, someone who currently ranks as a gods damned national treasure gifted to Fer’ich by the Hunt herself, is in constant danger. Chief Huntress Lobelia was led by the Hunt to find you. You wear the mark of Her favor and are bound to Her divine beast. None of us want a repeat of Riverlands.”

She winced, deflating a little. Finally, she asked, “Why a bounty?”

“Pardon?”

She gestured at herself. “Why’d the pest put a bounty on me?”

Lord Prince Ranin grew somber. “… he didn’t. His father, the Skyian King did. There seems to be some sort of conflict between them, but none of our spies know for sure.”

Lord Norland did a doubletake, mouthing the word, “Pest,” in confusion.

Squirt didn’t notice, her eyes locked on the lord prince. Tightly she asked, “He’s not in danger, is he?”

Lord Prince Ranin snorted. “No. He’s the golden child—without him, their people will starve. More than likely, the Skyian King wants to procure you to keep him happy in his confinement.”

Lord Norland looked between the pixie and fata. “I don’t understand. How does she know Prince Feldan?”

Squirt scowled, blushing quite hard.

Lord Prince Ranin kept his tone and words tactful. “She rescued him from the Wylds and slowed the war’s onset. They are attempting to destabilize what they consider to be a volatile political climate instead of marching with their allies to the south because she helped him return safely to the other side of the mountains, meaning they could no longer claim we had kidnapped a member of their royal family.”

The lord gave her a dubious look that made Squirt bristle. Glaring at him, Squirt dared to bite out, “Went into the Wylds to catalog beasts, saw an airship crash, he was one of two survivors. Took him back to Lord Everwinter.”

That seemed to make a bit more sense to the lord, though then the puzzled look came back. “… but why would you make him happy…” he blinked at the sight before him.

The pixie huntress had been many things since he’d first caught sight of her. Bold. Angry. Defiant. Fearful. Petulant. Flustered.

But there was a bashful look to her eyes now that he caught just before she ducked her head, lowering her eyes and hiding her expression, a move helped by their height difference. A move he’d seen plenty of times in his own daughter.

His eyes widened with understanding as she shifted awkwardly from foot to foot, tapping her pouches and belts and weapons to remind herself they were all there.

Lord Prince Ranin cleared his throat. “Lord Norland has already sworn his people to silence regarding your identity. If you have any objections to our plan, I’d like to hear it, but otherwise we plan on allowing you to continue as you were as much as possible. Should you wish to teach the next territory’s hunters, I will work to make it happen, but otherwise Hunter Jul has offered to take on that role for you. We’re thinking that we might be able to pretend he is Athereon if we need a decoy, or if anyone guesses that Athereon still travels the Wylds. He’s not as capable a hunter, but he has the education and standing they would assume of Athereon.”

Squirt scowled, noting two things. The first was that she was going to be traveling and documenting more feybeasts for much longer than expected. The second was that while she would get no choice in where they went next, the lord prince was genuinely seeking her counsel.

Thinking over the plan, she eventually nodded slowly. “It is a decent enough plan with a good backup. Jul is relatively unknown. It would make sense he could be Athereon with his education and background, and the timing lines up.” Plus, he was way more charismatic. “… I’ll still do my teaching and demonstrations because it’s the one gods damn time I can earn respect without having to dance to someone else’s pipes.”

Lord Norland awkwardly cleared his throat.

She glared at him. “I’m getting real damn tired of having to prove myself to the titled fey.”

He had the decency to wince.

She huffed and muttered, “At least you believed I was just a hunter being taken advantage of and not a servant taking the prince’s cock.”

Both lords choked on that, though the Lord Prince Commander choked with indignation and Lord Norland choked on surprised laughter.

Then Lord Norland calmed, looking between them with a curious eyebrow.

Lord Prince Ranin snarled, “I have a gods damned fated, Lof.”

He shrugged. “Not even the All-Father keeps his bed clean.” A proverb referring to how the All-Father and All-Mother were devoted lovers but hardly monogamous.

“For the love of—”

Squirt crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at him. “You can’t be offended every time someone thinks you’re having sex with someone. It’s the first and most obvious rumor there is, creating imagined romance where none exists.”

The irony of that statement was lost on both of them.

He huffed. “It never bothered me before.”

“Because the rumors probably helped your reputation.”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well. Anyway. Shall we discuss our route, then?”

Those who cared to notice could see the beginnings of a small smirk in the corner of the pixie’s mouth as she said, “Let’s.”

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