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

When Squirt woke, there was no hangover. She didn’t remember much about the night before other than the broad strokes. Someone had handed her alcohol, she’d showed off her wings, then talked about the pest before Jezalin appeared.

Or at least, Squirt thought she had. It got a little blurry after that, so who knew, maybe it was a dream of hers.

Gods fucking damnit, she had a gods damn crush.

It was one thing with the fey who had specifically shown interest in her, but first, she couldn’t assume anything about this woman, and second, her hand worked just fucking fine—

Like a princess like Jezalin would ever—

Nope, no, wrong thought. No. Even if she did magically show interest in Squirt, that would just solidify her as crazy and thus not to be trusted under any circumstances. Yep.

Just like she didn’t trust Zhadin.

Nope.

Not… not at all.

It was about that moment that Squirt realized that on top of the tendrils she had started waking up to, there were arms around her waist. The tendrils and pale skin announced who.

Her slight shifts from trying to rein in her panic roused them from their sleep, and for a moment, their arms squeezed her just a touch as they snuggled against her, hugging her as they rose to consciousness. They both froze as a tiny noise escaped Squirt’s mouth that had her face flushing an indignant shade of red.

She’d forgotten how nice a simple hug was. The wolves had reintroduced her to the concept of touching others, but there was a deeper intimacy when they were fey shaped.

So, the tiniest little squeak had escaped her.

She scowled. Damnit.

They murmured, “Still fierce,” before melting away into the shadow plane and leaving Squirt in the company of Mole and Pakos. Glaring, she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, noting it was just after sunrise. She’d slept in for half an hour or so.

Stiff and sore, she got up and stretched out her tightest muscles, folding up the furs they had slept in and leaving them. She didn’t know who provided them or carried them, nor who set them up, and frankly, she didn’t want to know.

A bit of shadow in the hallway of the barn they had slept in moved, drawing her attention as Zhadin’s torso leaned out of the shadow plane.

“I am taking the redcap hunting. He is thirsty. We will keep to the bucks and the childless.”

Squirt nodded, more comfortable with this kind of exchange.

They nodded to her. Then, weirdly enough, nodded to Pakos. Weirder still, Pakos nodded back.

They disappeared back into the shadow plane, and Squirt turned to eye Pakos.

“… do you have some kind of arrangement with them?”

Naturally, came the sassy reply. I thought that was obvious.

Her shoulders hunched and expression flattened. “… what exactly is the arrangement?”

Nothing you need concern yourself with. They just know how to treat a superior.

He wasn’t wrong, and that pissed Squirt right the fuck off. Fucking dog was a fucking minor god.

And all she could conjure was a damn squirt of water—

Huffing out her annoyance, knowing it was probably better that she didn’t know whatever damn arrangement a shadowfell had with her dog, hating the bit of gratitude in her heart as she had already guessed the nature of it anyway, she stomped out of the barn.

At the figure waiting for her outside, she scowled.

Lady Cirn bowed solemnly to her. “Lord Prince Commander Ranin has asked to see you when you woke.”

Squirt scowled but muttered, “As you wish.” Trotting forward, she followed Cirn’s long strides through the quiet, early morning of the village, passing several villagers that were off to begin the work for the day. They all greeted her with smiles and nods, further weirding her out until she started walking in Cirn’s shadow, her cloak pulled over her shoulders to disappear from sight. It worked, and Cirn was too intimidating for any other villagers they passed to greet.

On the other side of the village by the now repaired and restored walls of the village was a flat patch of earth that housed the command tent. It had been set up yesterday for the lord prince and Lord Norland, who were overseeing the reconstruction of the village while they strategized for the path ahead.

Once Cirn entered the tent, the tent flaps closed, and the noise of the village disappeared.

Squirt stepped around Cirn, exiting her shadow and startling Lord Norland, who let out a rather undignified series of blubbering sounds before saying, “Good gracious, you can shadow step?”

Squirt gave the lord a dry look before answering, “No, my lord. I am simply easily overlooked.”

He cleared his throat. “Right, well… I wasn’t sure.”

Giving him an odd look, she rounded the table only to freeze at the sight of the Lord Prince. He was seated in a chair next to a perfectly poised Jezalin. While she was sitting tall and proudly, he was slumped forward, his elbows on his knees.

Most of all, he sported a rather large black eye. Something that should have healed in minutes with his level of magic.

And yet, while Squirt sat there speechless and somewhat amazed, the color of the bruise didn’t shift or fade.

Meaning he wasn’t healing it, or there was some other magical phenomenon preventing it from healing.

The lord prince sighed, dropping his head. “… I owe you another three boons, Athereon.”

Squirt’s entire body flinched.

Lord Norland asked curiously, “This displeases you?”

Squirt turned, her eyes sharply appraising the lord. The only ones in the tent right now were the two lords, Lady Cirn, and Lady Jezalin—though Squirt had no idea what title she might hold, it was obvious she did have one—meaning Lord Norland was the only real wildcard here.

Pakos nudged her. Go on. I do believe the lord asked you a question.

She scowled at him before returning her eyes more warily to the lord. Still, despite her silence, the man hadn’t taken offense. That could change at any moment, naturally, but for now there was no animosity in his aura.

Tartly, she finally responded, “I don’t like debts.”

He frowned. “He’s offered you boons, not debts.”

Squirt gave him another dry look in answer, letting him puzzle through it himself.

He eventually got there as he rumbled out, “You do not like even the debts of others to you?”

“No, my lord.”

“Why? There is much to be gained by having powerful fey owe you, isn’t there?”

Squirt scowled harder, balling her fists and hissing out, “I don’t need anything, particularly not from gods damned titled fey playing bullshit power games for the sake of fucking honor. Honor does not feed an empty stomach. It does not save a dying fey. It aids no one but the fey wielding it, and the only thing his gets me is a gods damned target on my back.”

Jezalin was the one who spoke next. She sighed and shrugged. “Fine. Then he owes me three boons that I will accept on your behalf.”

Squirt stopped, the tension draining from her as she gave the woman a hard stare.

Jezalin raised a perfect brow. “I had thought it the least he could offer you, but it seems even the least he can do is just not good enough.”

Squirt’s stare remained unchanged.

Jezalin smiled. “I don’t believe Tobias ever mentioned, but I am another of his sisters. Adopted, naturally. We’ve known each other for a long time, now.”

Squirt’s eyes narrowed. “… you’re not a princess, are you?”

She snorted delicately behind her hand while Lord Prince Ranin raised his good brow and answered for her. “No.”

Meaning she wasn’t a Lady Princess, a consort to the queen.

Lowering her hand back down, her light golden eyes twinkling, she said, “I am one of the queen’s nominated advisors, but no, not a princess.”

Squirt muttered under her breath, “Damn princess,” and shifted her gaze away finally, letting it scan over to the map.

Lord Norland scratched his head. “Ah. Yeah. That was the other reason why we asked Lady Cirn to fetch you once you woke.” He turned back to Squirt, crossing his arms loosely. “I believe your work in this territory to be done. We have wronged you already by both refusing your advice and compromising your name—but your solution has proven to be highly effective and is already saving lives. I believe the hunters here have been trained well enough that I can send out teams to the villages to implement the solutions, and your detailed maps mean we know how and where to tackle the treebeds.”

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Squirt, still wary of his intentions, didn’t speak.

He shifted his hands behind his back. “I ask that you and your team stay until my Chief Huntress has returned from her task, but more than likely she will be back later today.”

Lord Prince Ranin cleared his throat. “We ah… will need another set of those ritual stones for Lord Norland, but Lady Jezalin says she can assist?”

Squirt narrowed her eyes at the woman. Jezalin returned her animosity with the smallest, teasing smirk that did things to Squirt she didn’t want to think about.

Damnit, this was exactly how she had been trapped last time by the Sia-bitch—

Was she destined to always be pussy-whipped—

Switching gears, she mentally tallied up her resources before nodding slightly.

A weight lifted from Lord Prince Ranin’s shoulders. “Thank the gods—it would have been such a waste to have to send you all the way back to Everwinter.”

Lord Norland frowned. “I don’t understand. You said she was no mage.”

Squirt went to answer when the tent flap was pushed open. In walked Chief Huntress Lobelia, fury in her face as she stalked over to Lord Norland. Three fey followed in behind her while dragging their feet, wearing summer cloaks over their clothes with a general poutiness to their stances highlighted by the youth of their faces.

Great. The worst type of fey in existence.

Teenagers.

Especially in those last few years, they suffered confusion as they transitioned from children—who were only one step removed from sacred entities to most fey—to adults that were judged for their actions. They had all the arrogance of having unlocked most of their power while being doted on constantly, able to see the responsibilities ahead of them without actually experiencing them, and thinking they understood how the world worked.

Or maybe Squirt was just jaded. Who knew.

The Chief Huntress had a hushed conversation with Lord Norland. Squirt deliberately chose not to listen in, instead taking a step back with the intention of fading into the background.

“Gods, this is ridiculous,” muttered one of the teens, a boy that was closer to man than boy. “Even the servant is wearing armor? Aren’t they taking this too far?”

Another, a female pixie, fluttered her pink wings and rolled her eyes, her tone imperious. “More importantly, there’s a servant. Fetch me water, I’m dying here.”

The last, a dainty and nervous looking elf still retaining the innocence in her eyes of youth, murmured, “I don’t think she’s a servant.”

Chief Huntress Lobelia turned at that moment and said, “The lord will judge you now for your stupidity.”

The guy scoffed. “You’re clearly exaggerating. We get it, we’re so scared of the big bad beasties. We’re not stupid or naïve enough to fall for this charade.”

Squirt took that moment to fade into Pakos’s shadow. He sat tall, his fur fluffed out, easily hiding her, something she was immensely grateful for. She’d seen this kind of attitude in teens before, and she could practically smell the privilege oozing all over them.

The pixie girl was studying Lord Prince Ranin intently before she gasped, her wings fluttering. “Oh! My! Gawds!” She curtsied elegantly. “Lord Prince Commander Ranin, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I am Nora of the Zeffle Family.”

The boy did a double take. “Wait, seriously?”

“Enough!” called out Lord Norland, his authority radiating out from him. Squirt winced on instinct, but Pakos kept her firmly shielded, much to her relief. “I will hear your side of the tale now.”

They explained, and Squirt could guess enough about the teens to read between the lines on what was unsaid or generally downplayed. Both girls liked the guy. The guy didn’t know because he was an idiot. They broke curfew and, in a bid to impress the guy, the girls got competitive and started launching fireballs and fireworks into the air.

Everything they said made Squirt hate them more. Pretentious assholes. And how like them to be able to waltz into someone else’s tent and immediately become the center of attention.

The pink pixie glanced around as they finished their story before crossing her arms and groaning. “Gods, my lords, you need a new servant. She’s taking forever.”

Lord Norland, who had mostly been stoically listening and occasionally asking clarifying questions, squinted in confusion. “Servant, what servant?”

“The little green one, obviously. She’s been gone to fetch water for so long—”

From her vantage point, Squirt could see visible panic on Lord Norland’s face that quickly turned to anger. The immediate burst of power over the tent would have been enough to crush Squirt had Pakos not been shielding her. She could see the magic as he dropped all three teens to their knees and stole their breath. “You dare enter my tent and order my guest about—”

So much for the secret identity.

“Hush,” came the quiet command from Jezalin. Her eyes were cool and assessing on the three teens, all three of them stunned silent with no small amount of terror on their faces. More than likely, they had never truly had a more powerful fey crush them. Especially with the latent power each one had, there were likely few fey who even could.

The lord growled but released them, drawing his aura back in.

Jezalin tapped a teacup in her hands with one finger, considering the three teens. Her eyes flickered over to Squirt, whom she could see behind Pakos, and Squirt swallowed at the somewhat evil look in her eye. “These three are from the summer training camp?”

“That they are, Lady Jezalin.”

The way the pink pixie gasped only made Squirt scowl harder. Damnit. She fucking knew she was a princess.

“Tell me, why did you assume her a servant?”

The pink pixie and the boy both looked bewildered by the very question, while the quiet, shyer one dropped her head and sighed, muttering, “I told you.”

The guy answered lamely, “I mean… she’s a… you know. She’s green. I mean, they’re great workers, don’t get me wrong, but everyone knows they’re slow of mind. There aren’t that many jobs they can do.”

And the sad truth of it was that he wholeheartedly believed his own words. He wasn’t being combative or sneering, he was being as polite and nice about it as possible. To him, it was a simple fact, as obvious as the rain or sun. Frankly, he sounded like he pitied her, which was better than she usually got.

The pink pixie just nodded along and said, “Yeah, samesies.” The guy shot her a look, and she shrugged. “What? It’s true.”

Jezalin calmly pressed forward. “And tell me, how do you know that they’re slow of mind?”

“Well, I mean, I’ve never even heard of one attending university. And I’ve never heard of one having a job that wasn’t being a servant.”

Lord Prince Ranin visibly winced.

The pixie muttered, “Plus they almost never talk, and when they do, it’s nonsense. And I’ve never had one that wasn’t slow to task.”

Squirt narrowed her eyes. Obviously, she didn’t treat her servants well, and any greenlings she employed had likely talked shit about her in front of her face.

“I see. And tell me, what track are you?”

They all answered in a variety of voices, “Politics.” The guy’s proud, the pixie’s dry, and the shy one’s politely depressed.

Squirt stared dumbly at Jezalin, who snorted into her hand, looked them dead in the eye with an ice-cold smile, and said, “You’ll die before your thirtieth. I guarantee it.”

“Ex-cuse me—”

“My father is—”

Jezalin held up a hand and both of the protestors fell silent. Jezalin closed her eyes, and then her voice spoke clearly in Squirt’s mind. Care for a bit of petty revenge?

Intrigued but wary, Squirt crossed her arms to hear her out.

Externally, Jezalin eyed the three kids with a look that was simultaneously sultry and dismissive. Squirt, hidden as she was by Pakos, scowled at the lady over her plan, but agreed partially because it sounded wonderfully petty. Silently, she strung her bow while Jezalin addressed the children.

“I said you would die before your thirtieth. You are both arrogant and exceedingly rude. Clearly none of you know how to treat your betters, and the ancient laws are what many of the titled fey prefer. By the ancient laws, I could have all of you whipped for repeated infractions. I won’t, simply because I have better things to do with my time than to abuse children. You won’t be children much longer, though.”

Squirt glanced over Pakos’s shoulder to choose her mark.

Jezalin’s pleasant smile was cold enough to send shivers through the spines of those who saw it. Squirt, naturally, didn’t see it. All as intended. “Assassination is the leading cause of death for those in politics, after all.”

Squirt drew her bow, taking an extra second to focus on the divine magic. Time slowed. Her hold shifted slightly. One second, she held the arrow, the next, she didn’t.

It flew with perfect aim to sail past the pixie, the tail whipping her in the face as it passed before it lodged itself in a chair. She sputtered and flew backwards, hyperventilating as she looked desperately for her attacker. The guy, having stood a little in front of the pixie, had missed the shot entirely. He whipped around to face her, completely confused at her utter terror, turning back with wide eyes to the adults in the room and shouting angrily, “Stop fucking with us now—”

Jezalin turned casually to Lord Prince Ranin. “I’d like to use a boon on this. Give me their punishment.”

“Punishment?” the boy asked with a desperate incredulity. “Why?”

Lord Prince Ranin only sighed, ignoring the boy. “You can’t kill or maim him.”

“No, I’ve got a better idea. Lord Norland, I suggest you let these three accompany you through the Wylds to get a better appreciation for the terrain in the Outskirts. I will give them a greater appreciation for the beasts they dismiss today while the damage to the village is finished being restored.” Her delighted smile turned positively evil. “Until then, I suppose corpse retrieval should be a good task for them.”

Lord Prince Ranin said, “No, there aren’t any left. The redcap got rather enthusiastic yesterday.”

“I see. Too bad. I suppose there are still graves to be dug?”

“That there are.”

“Perfect.”

Squirt notched another arrow, waiting for Pakos to call out her opportunity. It’s too bad you can’t see their faces. Pretty sure the pink one is going to be sick.

Her eyes narrowed. She really didn’t want to see that.

Lord Norland considered Squirt. “And what of this insult to the huntress?”

“Let me worry about that. But first—I will have an oath of silence from all three of you for everything you learn in the next hour. If you refuse, I do have a backup punishment that I can enact instead, but I promise you it is far worse.”

The boy, his eyes shifting to a golden color and fur breaking out across his skin, growled out, “What—”

Pakos signaled and Squirt drew, took aim, and released. It flew right in front of his face, the tail of it smacking him as it warbled. He flinched backwards, falling on his ass with an undignified grunt and groan of pain, the beast in him immediately receding in confusion.

Squirt and Jezalin shared a smirk before the latter’s eyes flickered back to the trio. “Well? I’m waiting.”

After exchanging uneasy glances, all three of them knelt and intoned their oaths of silence to the lady.

An oath in this manner was an unbreakable vow. The wording needed to be exact, as too broad could be deadly, but too narrow could be easily circumvented. For the rest of their lives, if they attempted to speak of what they learned in the next hour, they would die by the boiling of their own blood in their veins. Their only escape would be if Jezalin released them from their oaths before she died.

Once she was satisfied with their oaths, Jezalin smiled warmly at them. “Excellent. Athereon, why don’t you introduce yourself?”

All three of the teens had their jaws drop, looks of awe and wonder on their faces.

Squirt rolled her eyes, but as requested, she stepped out from behind Pakos.

The guy and the shy girl immediately understood, the guy in particular paling rather strongly. The pink pixie, on the other hand, kept looking around despite Squirt being in plain view, her disappointment palpable.

Jezalin said with all due seriousness, “The mistake you committed was the same as was done by the former Riverlands. I believe the heralds all announced their fate at the university.”

It wasn’t the same gods damned thing and she fucking knew it. The kids didn’t, though, and as much as Jezalin’s stretching of the truth annoyed Squirt, there was petty satisfaction in the way they trembled.

Well. The way two of them trembled. The female pixie was still looking around waiting for a fey to materialize out of thin air.

Clearly not all of the doors open in that one. Pakos was referencing an old proverb—the intelligent can open all the doors in their mind while the stupid finds most of the doors locked.

Squirt’s lip twitched before she schooled her face again.

Jezalin smiled brightly at Squirt. “Well then, I believe we can continue our discussion in an hour. There’s no need to waste your time on this.”

The pink pixie was finally clueing in, blinking stupidly at Squirt.

Squirt considered the teens before she bowed politely towards the lord prince. “May I request the assistance of Lady Cirn, or is she needed in this?”

Jezalin glanced at Lord Prince Ranin. He took a moment to catch on. “Oh, no. She’s all yours.”

Squirt bowed to those there in order of rank before taking her leave out of the tent, grateful to the light mage for giving her the opportunity to escape.

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