The Court of Outcasts Read online

  Briar looked whole and well, his black attire, which covered everything but his arms and feet, and blue skin standing out sorely from the lighter colors of the woods around them. From what she could see, his dark wings—collapsed flat to his back at the moment—looked whole with no sign of the silver blood that had covered them weeks ago. His long black hair was half pulled back behind his head, the rest flowing down his shoulders. The characteristic smirk was present on his face, but didn’t reach his eyes.

  There was apprehension in them. Or is that just me wanting to believe that?

  “You’ve been gone a while,” Nola said as she folded her arms.

  The smirk slipped off his handsome face. “I thought it was for the best.”

  Nola stifled a sigh. “And I suppose you can’t tell me why that is?” she said with a good amount of snark.

  Briar had the audacity to look offended. “It was safer that way.” He cast a furtive glance around them, at the humans that were visible walking the path a few feet to their left. “We should go somewhere else.”

  Nola knew he was using magic to obscure himself from sight, and she had been careful to keep her voice down. The visitors of the park usually didn’t pay much attention to her anyway. They were more wrapped up in their personal lives or the scenery. Unless I run directly into them, she thought wryly. But for all she knew, someone, some other faerie, could be watching and listening. And she felt especially vulnerable with Kelty gone.

  Suddenly glad for Briar’s company, despite the chaotic feelings that bounced around inside her, she kept close to him as he led her on foot back toward where Kelty lived. There were less people on the path the farther they went into the woods, but Nola kept her mouth shut against everything that wanted to come rushing out. She instead focused on the view of his wings she had from this angle. Kelty’s were gorgeous, all silver and shiny in the sun, but there was something about Briar’s dark wings with their blue sheen as the sun hit them that made it hard for Nola to breathe.

  Briar took her to what was probably the darkest part of the woods, where the trees were so close together and the canopy so thick as to almost block out the sun entirely.

  Then he abruptly turned on his heel and blurted out, “I’m sorry.”

  Nola’s mouth nearly fell open. “What?”

  He gestured vaguely to her. “I gave you strength, but I did not ask if that was what you wanted.” His voice held no amount of teasing.

  Is that an apology for turning me part faerie? Nola wondered, but didn’t get a chance to ask as he continued.

  “And by returning, I also may have put you in danger. But I need to explain.”

  “Okay. What are you talking about, Briar?” Nola moved so as to get into his line of sight. “Why am I in danger?”

  Briar sighed as he finally looked her in the eyes. “If the Court of Outcasts discovers you—what I made you—”

  “Are you a part of them?” Nola interrupted.

  “I am ashamed to say I once called their leader brother, though we are not related by blood.”

  Here we go with the non-answers.

  “Am I allowed to know his name?” Nola asked dryly.

  To her surprise, he answered bluntly, “He goes by Fable.”

  “Well, that’s a faerie name if I ever heard one.”

  Briar gave her a strange look, fidgeting with his hair.

  Nola sighed in frustration. “Does that make you a part of the Court of Outcasts?”

  “I refuse to be a part of Court.”

  Interesting. “Why?”

  Briar hesitated. “It is dangerous to be near him,” he said softly.

  “Your brother?”

  At Nola’s expectant look, he explained. “At the Day Court, The Glorious used Fable to punish others using a specific skill he possesses. He has an affinity with spirit, but he has the rare skill of being able to take away memories and plant fake ones.”

  Nola’s eyes widened. “He can mess with people’s memories?”

  “Faeries’ memories,” Briar corrected. “Well, perhaps humans as well. He can at least manipulate their soul energy.” At Nola’s confused expression, he explained, “Emotions, moods.”

  “Okay, so avoid your brother. Got it.” Then it hit her. “Wait. Is this the one Kelty is with now?”

  “Possibly.”

  “What does he want with her?” Nola turned as if to leave. “I should’ve followed her—”

  Briar’s hand caught her arm, the warmth of it a shock to her system. “He won’t kill her,” he said in a voice that was probably supposed to be reassuring. “He needs her. I’m more worried about you.”

  “Me? Why?” Nola gave him an incredulous look. “What would he even want with me?”

  He gave her a look that was almost pitying. “You’re a human that has been turned part faerie. He will want to know how you got that way. Now, come. There is something I must show you.”

  Briar’s eyes darted nervously about the trees, then he turned and headed on foot in the direction of her house.

  Nola sighed. Why would a faerie ever give me a straight answer?

  But she followed. And as frustrated as she was, a part of her was glad to see him.

  Chapter 4

  Flying above the human dwellings and buildings was disconcerting. Kelty had never before left that area of the woods—the place her father left her after banishment. Now she realized how lucky she was to have made her home in the park.

  The farther she got from her home, the more she felt the absence of life, like she was flying through a land of death. They do not seek to live within the world, only to destroy it. Flying higher did nothing to help ease the nothingness that was the human world below.

  The summons led her on for about ten more minutes before she came upon the familiar and comforting sight of trees. While her woods was a park where humans frequented, this land looked far more wild. Kelty couldn’t help the thrill that went through her as she entered the forest. She exhaled as if she had been holding her breath the entire time.

  But the feeling of comfort quickly vanished as she reminded herself of what she was here for. They took Rowan. They killed one of our own to breed a dark magic. And now they dare to summon me.

  She was drawn deep into the trees, the light growing darker. Kelty swept out her power, tentatively brushing the trees by way of introduction. These were large and ancient, and they responded warmly. A shock of pleasant surprise went through her.

  Well, it is a place of outcasts, and that is what I am.

  The thought wasn’t as comforting as it should have been, but before she could devote much thought to it, the warmth in her palm and the tug at her core ceased abruptly. She halted and hovered in the air. The mark of the outcasts dissipated from her palm as she looked down at it. She was never so happy to see it go, the marred symbol of Faerie an uncomfortable reminder of her outcast status.

  Kelty inhaled and centered the magic at her core, then sending it out as a sort of shield around her, she readied herself for what was to come. The one who put the mark on her was a spirit-user, and as weak as her shield was, she didn’t want to go in unprepared.

  She abruptly pulled her wings flat to her back and dropped to the ground below, landing gracefully in a large, oddly circular clearing.

  Before her, leaning casually against one tree that stood in the center was the faerie that put the summons on her. His yellow-gold skin and white hair stood out shockingly in the shade of the tree. Kelty was once again impressed by his unusually tall, willowy frame. His golden eyes bore into her.

  He said nothing.

  There is definitely something off about this one.

  “You summoned me,” she said in a flat voice.

  His eyebrows quirked up. “Yes,” he asked in a soft voice. Then he nodded. “You came.”

  Kelty blinked, but remained silent. She would not give him the satisfaction of being the one to ask why.

  He pushed off from the tree and made a wide, grace
ful gesture with one arm. “Welcome to the Court of Outcasts.”

  For a moment, nothing happened, but Kelty could feel the gathering of magic beneath her feet. Then the branches of the tree before them twisted and bent into the shape of a throne.

  Kelty took in a quick breath. That was the magic of a land-user. There are others here. She cursed herself internally as she resisted the urge to turn and look for them. I was too busy trying to fortify myself against a spirit-user, I did not check for threats in the wood.

  But the land-user never appeared. Kelty brought her attention back to the throne and opened her mouth, but words failed her for the span of a few seconds.

  “It’s empty,” Kelty finally managed.

  The faerie’s eyes flashed as he looked at her. “Yes.”

  Kelty fought the urge to step backward. “Are you the one who rules here?”

  He gave a small scoff at that. “No.”

  “Then who does?” Kelty crossed her arms, growing more irritated by the moment. The way he was looking at her, like she was the most interesting thing he had ever laid eyes on, disturbed her.

  He gave her a crafty smile. “The throne is yours.”

  Kelty stared at him in shock. Though, after the initial wave wore off, she supposed the words were similar to those spoken by a certain blue faerie that claimed he brought her here to stop the dark magic and the humans who created it.

  The bigger problem was that the blue one, Briar, had not resurfaced from their last encounter—and she did not know how this disturbed faerie fit into Briar’s plan.

  “Why should I rule the outcasts?” she challenged him, looking him straight in his disconcerting eyes. “I do not know any of you. And I do not plan on being in this world for much longer.” The last part she was still unsure of. It would mean her family in Faerie would have to clear her name somehow. But that didn’t mean she would go around claiming a throne in the human world.

  “As ruler and organizer of this court, you would have cause to visit Faerie. You could make things much easier for both the rulers of the Night and the Day, and so you can make them listen.”

  Despite her reluctance, the possibilities ran through Kelty’s mind. She would be a ruler of a made-up court in the human world, one who welcomes the wrongdoers of Faerie who fall out of favor with the courts—the Day Court, mostly—and which makes Faerie a safer place. His words made sense. She could demand she be allowed to visit her home and her family at the Night Court, but—

  “Still, as an outcast,” Kelty said softly, “my name would never be restored. I would never live in Faerie again.”

  And I would never rule the Night, as I was supposed to, she added silently.

  He cocked his head to the side. “You will have more of a chance than others like you.”

  Anger spread through her. “And what is your plan? What will you do while I rule?”

  “Continue restoring the order of the human world,” he said as if it was obvious. He moved behind the throne, caressing it with one long finger.

  “Restore the order,” Kelty repeated tonelessly. “I’m not sure the humans had order in the first place.”

  He gave her a smirk. “Create order, then. The Court of Outcasts works to strengthen the ara, as you’ve been doing in your little home, and to correct the behavior of the humans,” he said simply. “They have gone quite awry as a species. So much suffering. They need to be fixed.”

  Kelty schooled her face to remain passive as her years of court training thankfully kicked in. Though she agreed with him to an extent, the way he talked, softly and far away, made him seem particularly unhinged.

  There is definitely something wrong with this one. He must be one of the powerful ones.

  Spirit was the most difficult of the affinities to master. Those with more power saw more than any one faerie should. There had been several cases over the years of madness and erratic actions. Those of the courts would be called in to silence these faeries. An icy fear made its home in her chest as she realized it was possible those faeries were just sent here without a thought for how it would affect this world.

  “And who might you be that plans to ‘fix’ an entire species, yet doesn’t want to sit on the throne himself?” Kelty tried to pin him with a sharp gaze she and her sister had once learned to perfect, but he wasn’t looking at her.

  “What is your name?” Kelty asked more loudly this time.

  He leaned against the throne. “I am known by many names. Those of the Day Court call me The Punisher.”

  Kelty stiffened. She heard whispers of one called The Punisher, though nothing more, as she was of the Night Court. The courts mostly kept to themselves, both because they were awake during different times and a difference in ruling styles.

  “What were you banished for?” she challenged.

  “Now, that, I am sure, your potential partner could tell you,” he evaded the question.

  “And what is it you think you know about me?” Kelty asked in a forced light voice. “Why do you want to put me on this throne?”

  “You are Kelty of the Night,” Fable began in a matter-of-fact voice. He clasped his hands in front of him as he spoke. “Your mother, Kye of the Night, named you the Star after your ability with all six of the affinities. You used to follow the storytellers and convince youths not to willingly join the Day Court. And that is how Briar found you, orchestrated your banishment, and brought you here to try and stop me.”

  Kelty had to struggle again to keep the panic from showing on her face as he so casually listed off her every secret. She kept her eyes locked with his. Never show them fear. Court faeries knew how to play games. And this one had her.

  He knows everything of me. And I know nothing of him.

  Kelty’s wings twitched with the urge to fly far away from this faerie who spoke truths in such a detached way. She was feeling increasingly vulnerable, though he had made no move to try to influence her, as far as she could tell. She was usually thankful spirit was her weakest affinity; it meant she was less likely to turn into something like the faerie who stood before her with a faraway look in his eyes. Now, she only wished she had the power to match him.

  But something kept her rooted to the ground. She focused in on the piece of the puzzle that didn’t make sense.

  “And your solution is to put me on a throne?” Kelty asked skeptically.

  “You are meant to rule.”

  “And if I refuse to take it? You tried to kill my potential after all. I am already not so fond of your group of outcasts.” Anger rose within her to mix with the fear already brewing, the magic at her core swirling.

  “My apologies for that mistake.” He inclined his head slightly. “The ones who did that did not know he was your potential.”

  That doesn’t make up for it!

  “You ordered the humans to create the dark magic. Why?”

  He gave her a sly grin much like Briar’s characteristic smirk. “All will be revealed when you take the throne.”

  And now he is baiting me with information.

  “I don’t think trying to fix the humans is the answer to this world’s problems,” she said in a flat voice.

  “You will.”

  Her need to fly was nearly overwhelming now. “I will not take this throne just because you wish me to.” She gave him a significant look and opened her wings.

  “No,” Fable’s unconcerned words followed her as she took to the air. “But you will do it.”

  Chapter 5

  Nola tried to keep up with Briar’s brisk pace through the woods. She recognized their path before long. They were headed to the spot where Nola’s father had first discovered the puddle of faerie remains.

  At first, she followed in tense silence, aware that she could be heard by other humans passing through, but then gave in to the question nagging at her.

  “Wait.” Nola reached around one of his wings to grab his arm. He came to a halt at the unexpected contact, dark blue eyes a little wide as he turned.


  Nola swallowed and asked what she had been wondering these past few weeks. “Why were you away for so long? And why return now?”

  “It was not safe,” he said. He looked her right in the eyes as he did. A thrill ran through Nola. “Fable can see my memories. If he looked, he might have seen you.”

  “And so what changed?” Nola tried to swallow, but her throat was suddenly dry.

  “He shifted his focus off of me.” Briar glanced up into the trees and then kept going.

  As Nola’s sneakers squished in the mud, she pulled the small knife from her back pocket. My first instinct is always to trust him, she thought. This time I will not be so naïve.

  “You won’t need that,” Briar’s voice floated back to her as he still faced front. He sounded sad, and not the least bit surprised.

  “We’ll see,” was all Nola said as she ducked under a low-hanging branch.

  Briar didn’t reply. They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Nola was almost grateful for it as she concentrated on keeping her feet from slipping out from underneath her. Briar moved with all the grace of a dancer through the difficult terrain, causing Nola to scowl at his back more than once.

  The presence of magic grew and intensified until the air and the ground alike almost hummed with it. This was one part of Nola’s power she was confident in. Kelty would test her by leaving trace amounts of her magic in different areas of the wood and sending Nola on a scavenger hunt. She surprised Kelty every time with her speed and accuracy. Nola’s very insides seemed to hum with the magical presence, making her feel at peace. And then, when Nola returned home to the dull feeling of living between planks of dead wood, she longed to return to the woods, to be surrounded by magic and life again.

  Briar stopped at the edge of the small clearing where her father had found the dead faerie, the silvery gray substance that gave her the power she now fought to understand. Gone was the puddle of thick, gray liquid on the soil, which Kelty had, weeks ago, magically returned to the ara—the energy beneath the soil. But the ground and the plants now shimmered with energy.