Feigned Fae: Freed Fae Book 1 Read online

  Feigned Fae

  Freed Fae

  Beck Beetle

  Published by Beck Beetle, 2021.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  FEIGNED FAE

  First edition. April 17, 2021.

  Copyright © 2021 Beck Beetle.

  Written by Beck Beetle.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Chapter One | Sassa

  Chapter Two | Lux

  Chapter Three | Elsu

  Chapter Four | Sassa

  Chapter Five | Lux

  Chapter Six | Elsu

  Chapter Seven | Sassa

  Chapter Eight | Lux

  Chapter Nine | Elsu

  Chapter Ten | Sassa

  Chapter Eleven | Lux

  Chapter Twelve | Elsu

  Chapter Thirteen | Sassa

  Chapter Fourteen | Lux

  Chapter Fifteen | Elsu

  Chapter Sixteen | Lux

  Chapter Seventeen | Elsu

  Chapter Eighteen | Sassa

  Chapter Nineteen | Lux

  Chapter Twenty | Sassa

  Sign up for Beck Beetle's Mailing List

  About the Author

  Chapter One

  Sassa

  Sassa’s head whipped right and left, navy tendrils escaping the long braids that ran down her back. Beneath her, the furious elk bucked, thrusting her into its antlered crown, nearly impaling her on the tines. Her knees dug into its sides, fighting to maintain a grip.

  The struggle had been their dance for the last half hour as Sassa maneuvered them farther from the elk’s bedding area. Safety was behind them, tucked in the denser outland forest that climbed the rocky slopes. They were venturing into the inlands, and the beast knew it. Like her, it stayed away from the human village, Vădăstriya, where danger lurked.

  From their elevated vantage point and through the thinning trees, she saw the sparse lights of Vădăstriya casting a soft glow into the darkness. The ever-expanding border wall was a monstrous, patchy stretch of yellowing stone that signaled not only the growing populace but spreading purity stances. Blood red flags flew from the gateposts. Their meaning was the town’s motto, “One Blood, One People.” Yet Sassa, an Impure, was drawing nearer to those who hunted her.

  The elk whined and slowed, exhausted, as was Sassa. Hunting was tiring even with a full belly, but for the past week, her only sustenance had been berries. Her grasp was weakening, the beast becoming less responsive to her nudges as she prompted it forward. A few feet in and it refused to continue, having spotted their destination, a campsite with a purple tent at its center.

  It was time.

  Sassa despised this moment, hated herself for her desperation as she reached for the hilt of her dagger. The elk was growing desperate too, its hind legs shuffling, its cry attracting too much attention, too much pity from her core.

  Schwing! She unsheathed the knife in time to the elk’s rear raising. It bucked twice, dislodging her, but not before she’d sunk the blade. She plummeted over its antlers, striking the ground just behind her shoulders, before tumbling over gnarled roots and rock. Air rushed from her lungs as she plowed into a pine tree, the loud crash in tune to the giant elk hitting the ground. Blood gushed from the slash wound at its neck, a scarlet puddle forming beneath its massive head. Its large, black iris seemed to focus on her, watching her with an emptiness that she felt.

  “It’s about time,” a gruff voice called behind her.

  She turned, spotting Bagard’s ruddy face as he popped out the tent, puffs of lavender smoke streaming around his balding head. Bare-chested and barefoot, he emerged, pulling breeches over his pale arse that by now Sassa had become accustomed to seeing.

  “I’ve been here a fortnight waiting for you to show.”

  “You ordered an outland elk for the feast day,” Sassa croaked. It was always odd to speak again after weeks of silence. Wincing, she got to her feet, the metallic taste of blood filling her mouth. She’d bitten her tongue hard. “No one would believe you caught it before then. No Human ever has.”

  Twice the weight and worth triple the price than inland animals, outland game was a delicacy in Vădăstriya. Size aside, they were almost impossible to catch, at least for the Human huntsmen. It was their incompetence that drew Sassa’s services to Bagard.

  With the severe prejudices that surrounded the western lands, being of mixed lineage was only beneficial for hunting. For Sassa, the keen senses and strength she’d inherited from the Fae and the litheness from the Lele were her only saving graces. Her skills kept her away from the occasional hunter who braved the outlands’ perimeter. They were eager to hunt Lele for a bounty if they couldn’t capture a beast. No matter the nation, the charges brought against the Lele were identical: black magic and sorcery. If Sassa or any Lele were real sorceresses, they wouldn’t be in hiding. They would have homes and countries to travel to and from freely.

  A home, Sassa thought. A proper home with a roof, bed and door to shut out the outside world, not a tree or campsite.

  She gazed at the tent. The Humans rarely used dyes besides brown and olive, save for their flags. The purple affair was no doubt that of roaming Lele in search of rest and wealth. They would risk their lives to grab a hunter’s attention for a quick coin. It was a delicate balance, providing works delectable enough to keep the men peaceful and their time valued above what a bounty could fetch. It was fleeting, though. Four romps later and the prize money was too good to pass. They’d turn the girls in for their coins back and then some.

  If these Lele cared for their lives, they’d move by dawn. Where they should travel to next, Sassa hadn’t an idea. All provinces, territories and settlements banned the Lele, unless one had the gold to bribe a crooked gatekeeper. Still, there were no savory jobs for their kind.

  Bagard ignored her, walking to the slain animal, his dark eyes shining not with appreciation, but glee. “I’ve never seen a brute this big, even for an outlander.” He grinned, rubbing at his graying stubble. “Our Lord Valerius Rauche himself will have to acknowledge my victory, a monster able to feed all three clans. They won’t believe it.”

  “They shouldn’t,” Sassa mumbled before she could stop herself.

  His head snapped toward her. “That right? You want them suspicious of me? The source of your continuance in this fucking forest? The hand that feeds you?”

  “Of course not,” she said, struggling to keep the sarcasm from her tone as he stood tall before her. If he thought his positioning was threatening, he deceived himself. The top of his shiny skull barely met her below the chin.

  No wonder his clan was questioning his kills, he no longer looked the part of a huntsman; his belly had grown soft, his skin paler. Sassa kept her lips sealed. She could dive from the cliffs, climb the tallest pines and slaughter the biggest beast, but speaking crippled her. As she swallowed another bloody mouthful and peered into Bagard’s full face, she realized why she dealt with him at all. Fear. Not the fear of Bagard, but the dread of losing his familiarity. She knew him and what he would and wouldn’t do, and he would not betray her. Not because he cared for her or the sustenance her kills brought him, but because his popularity and coin purse couldn’t grow without her. It was that same fame that gave him the gall to display his sexual pursuits so openly, as having relations with Lele was just as punishable as being one.

  “As I thought.” He spat a hair shy of her boot, rubbing the dribble from his lips. Flicking a finger, he motioned her to follow him into the tent.

  Inside reeked of sweat and stale perfumes. There were two nude girls, both with mauve-colored m
anes and magenta irises, oddities that marked them as Lele. It was a lineage that couldn’t hide, dominating the traits of every race the Lele bred with besides the Fae. Whether the child was half Dwarf, Human, or Nymph, it was always female with full Lele features, taking nothing from the father. They were taller than Humans but shorter than Fae, with vivid eye and hair colors not found in any other people. But Fae blood was strong, and Sassa looked different.

  She didn’t have the traditional roundness to her cheeks and jaw, as did the women before her. Like the Fae, her face was more angular, although less severe with prominent eyebrows. Excessively long, they stopped short of her hairline, tilting upwards and emphasizing the largeness of her orange eyes. Then there was her height, lingering midway between the races that created her.

  The twins stared, mouth agape, confusion merging into understanding, then shock. Sassa practically heard the question already forming on their lips. What kind of Fae would mate with a Lele? But it was Bagard who spoke.

  “Did I tell you to move?” he roared, striding to the girls and grabbing fistfuls of their hair. He wrenched them to their knees before shoving them forward onto all fours. They didn’t make a sound. They were used to it, Sassa knew.

  Beside them was a narrow table filled with massage oils, incense and a bubbling hookah pipe. Bagard gripped the mouthpiece and drew on it, exhaling lavender smoke through his nose. It was pyrrola, a hallucinogenic plant smoked by Lele seers, that only worked on true Lele seers and did nothing for everyone else. It was a sacred practice becoming popularized by prostitutes with their clients.

  Sassa bit her cheek, swallowing her chastising words. Her skin grew hot, her blood boiling as she watched Bagard settle onto the blankets behind the girls. He was blowing a steady stream of O’s straight into their splayed orifices. How could they waste something as precious as pyrrola on such a worthless cause? Was anything sacred anymore?

  Bagard reached over the bedding and grabbed two lumpy sacks. He tossed one at her absently before digging in the other and pulling out an apple. He held it in his mouth like a roasted swine before flinging the half-empty sack at her head.

  “Where’s the rest of it?” she asked, searching the contents. There were a few beets, turnips, a handful of small potatoes and black beans, things that didn’t grow easily in the shady forest. The abundant figs, berries, and nuts that covered the trees and bushes were only satiating for so long. She depended heavily on the starchy vegetables and fleshy fruits Bagard would bring her. It wasn’t enough food to last a week, far less than what an outland elk was worth. She palmed the single bread loaf. It was stale.

  “Where are the apricots and cherries? The honey?” Her stomach clenched in hunger as her eyes flashed furiously to his. “The apples?”

  Bagard crawled to the edge of the blankets, still munching the apple. There was a glint in his beady irises, a slimy smile curling his thin lips. He stopped chewing and spat a soggy heap onto the floor, then another.

  “Didn’t you complain about being hungry earlier?” he cooed. “Eat.”

  Sassa retched, but Bagard was too busy laughing and swaying with mirth. He fisted his hands in the girls’ hair again, smashing their faces into the mush. “I said eat! Go on, it’s more than you’ll get in a month.”

  When they didn’t obey, he snatched the pipe and dropped the still smoldering coal on a twin’s back. She shrieked, shimmying it from her welting skin, but Bagard’s grip on her neck was relentless.

  “Eat!”

  And they ate.

  Sassa’s talons dug into her palms, piercing the flesh, her fists shaking. “Where’s the rest?” she hissed.

  “Cherries weren’t ready for harvest when I left, and the apricots caught the fungus. Flynn’s bringing up more potatoes and a few honey jars,” he said, easing back onto the blankets, and tilting his head for a better view. “We were running low on supplies after waiting so long.”

  “Six sacks full then?”

  “What?” Bagard’s dark eyes turned to her in annoyance.

  “Three rabbits, for two sacks. A deer, four sacks. An elk, eight. You’re short, again.”

  “I said that’s all I could bloody get!”

  “And it’s not enough. I want the rest stuffed full or I’m taking the beast.”

  “You can’t even eat the blasted thing.”

  “I know,” she said, setting her chin, her resolve hardening.

  He stood, tripping over the pipe’s cord and snapping it in half. “You’re not taking anything back. You’re lucky I brought you something at all instead of turning you in.”

  “And yourself too?” she asked, calling his bluff. “It’ll be hard to explain why you can’t make a kill after I’m gone.”

  “You aren’t the only Lele in this forest.” He motioned to the girls, but Sassa couldn’t bear to look at them. “You aren’t the only hunter.”

  “You said yourself I can’t eat that elk. That’s an intolerance from the Lele, not the Fae. They can’t eat meat, and so they can’t hunt worth a damn. If they could, would they be here with you or bringing game to other huntsmen for far more than a half copper?”

  “Yet here you are once again, not down the path to another huntsman,” he scoffed. “So shut your trap and take whatever Flynn brings, or don’t, but you’re not taking that elk.”

  The twins glanced at her sheepishly, their pitiful positions emboldening her further.

  “Watch me.”

  She was stronger than him, faster, her talons alone able to reach through his flesh and pierce his heart. Yet she had let him control their narrative for what? Less and less food? Pivoting to leave, she spotted Flynn at the entrance, a single sack slung across his shoulders.

  Not enough.

  Bagard grabbed her wrist, but Sassa flung her arm, sending him crashing into the little table. Oil bottles scattered, one tipping over onto the bedding where the smoldering coal still glittered in the growing darkness. It ignited immediately, as did Bagard’s oil-soaked trouser leg that erupted in an orange blaze. His screams pierced the air, the flames climbing higher.

  Sassa stood frozen beside the screeching twins, her newfound courage gone as Bagard staggered and collapsed to the blanketed floor. In seconds, his hair was aflame, his face obscured, his wails dying as the fire crawled toward them. Behind them, honey jars shattered as Flynn took off as a longhorn sounded in the near distance. The watchmen on the wall.

  Perfect.

  “Run!” the sisters cried as they darted through the smokey entrance.

  Flynn wasn’t at the firepit where water buckets always sat, neither was Bagard’s horse. They’d taken off, perhaps to the nearest hunters. They needed to move now, but Sassa froze again. The flames had engulfed the tent’s sagging roof, their tips tickling the branches of a pine. The forest wasn’t large, not compared to Avundruill’s vast forests over the cliffs and across the lake. If the fire spread, it’d devour the woods and anything within in no time.

  “What are you doing?” shouted a twin. They’d bolted for the outlands, stopping a few paces into the thickening trees.

  Sassa had run to the horse’s water trough, pushing it mere inches toward the fire. It was too heavy even for her.

  The horn sounded again, a low moan that rang through the night.

  “Help me!” she ground out between clenched teeth, shoving the trough and barely shifting it a meter. Her hands were raw, still aching where she’d cut herself. “When the fire spreads, where will you hide? If the smoke doesn’t smother you first, you’ll burn from the flames.”

  They hesitated, petrified eyes finding Vădăstriya, then the sloping trees behind them. Then, to her surprise, they were at her side. Together, they hefted the trough closer until Sassa could kick it over. The water gushed, collapsing parts of the tent that still stood, extinguishing half the blaze. Sassa stamped the remaining flames as the girls tossed dirt over the embers. Somewhere inside, Bagard remained unmoving.

  The horn blared, followed by the pounding of
a dozen galloping horses. It wasn’t the stallions that alarmed Sassa. Those she could outrun. It was the softer footfalls and the howls that followed that broke her brow into a cold sweat, each intenser than the last. The Humans had brought cŵn annwn, hounds trained to sniff out Lele.

  In unison, they burst into a sprint, Sassa slowing for them to keep up. She knew the land better, and without her, they didn’t stand a chance.

  Deep in the outlands held an underground tunnel. They needn’t worry about the dogs locating their scent, for the rocky terrain near the cliff-side would not allow them to dig without Human aid. The Humans wouldn’t journey so far, too terrified of legendary beasts that inhabited the heart of the forest. The most infamous was Adar Rhiannon, giant birds capable of singing live men to sleep while raising dead ones. Sassa had never seen one, but she thanked the beast for the sheer terror it inspired regardless of its existence.

  The trees thickened as they bounded eastward, berry bushes blocking the pathways between most. The twins were slowing considerably. Lele were faster than Humans, but they were no match for Fae.

  “I can’t,” a twin huffed, doubling over as they reached the meadows that halved the forest. It was the burned twin, the raised welt visible on her protruding spine. “We have to hide. I can’t run anymore.”

  “There’s no place to hide here,” Sassa whispered, already past the clearing and sheltered in the darkness of the forest.

  “The hounds can’t climb,” the other twin panted, midway between her sister and Sassa, where the moonlight beamed on her nude form. “We can take shelter in the treetops.”

  Wrong, Sassa thought, but she didn’t get the chance to speak. A cŵn annwn burst into the clearing, stopping short of the light. It was twice the size of a gray wolf, with a sleek pelt the color of ink. Its bloody irises focused on the twins, then it lifted its head, opened its long, narrow snout and howled, calling to the others. Sassa didn’t stay to hear it taper off, darting the last few yards toward the tunnel. A twin ran a few feet behind her, abandoning her sister who was beyond their help. The creature’s jaws were a vice grip, and even Sassa’s strength was no match. If they stopped, they were all doomed.