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DACRITH WAS SITTING in the dining area of an inn the next night when he heard the news about the tournament. The brownies had a magical system set up where they could hear the news from their kin from all over the realm. It enabled gossip spread at lightning speed.
It seemed that in one month, combatants could compete to become married to Asha Trinity, their future queen. They’d all heard that Corvine had failed to become bonded to the dryad. Rumor had it that he’d been sent to the goblin dungeon, but no one could confirm it. The nightly entertainment of seeing warriors pitted against monsters had died along with Sindarian. Most of the exiled and monsters had been killed by Jake, Dacrith and their lackeys, leaving few behind to continue to fight each other.
The news that warriors would enter a contest to become king had sparked a flurry of excitement. This would be a similar entertainment to what they were already used to. It wasn’t just open to soldiers in the Unseelie army. Any male fairy could apply.
Dacrith’s dour mood lifted as he contemplated what this meant for him. He had no doubt that he would win the tournament. No one in this realm could best him in battle. The problem was that if he was recognized, he would be banished again. He had to find a way to enter the competition without giving away his true identity.
He had a month to make his way to the palace and figure out a plan of action. That would give him plenty of time, but without the use of magic, it wasn’t going to be easy to remain incognito. At least he and Hexam could slow their headlong rush now. The trick would be to reach the palace without being stopped by the guards who were appearing in growing numbers. The Cerberus had been targeted by spears and crossbow bolts earlier that day. He’d fled to the forest with Dacrith clinging to his back as the warriors had given chase. While they didn’t know who he was yet, they clearly didn’t want him to be reunited with Asha.
Making his way to a vacant room upstairs, Dacrith sat down at the small table. Hexam scrambled out of his pocket and grew to his usual size when he landed on the floor. A long platter with three bones appeared in front of him and he pounced on the meal with relish.
“Brownies,” Dacrith called, knowing the little people were hovering somewhere in the inn, waiting on their customers.
“Yes?” one replied as he appeared on the table in front of him. His attitude was almost churlish.
“Might I request a change of clothes?”
“You could, but why should I comply?”
Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Dacrith studied the tiny being. They were becoming bold in their defiance against their hated masters. “Would you serve your chosen mistress faithfully?” he asked.
“Of course. We’d do anything for our Queen.” The brownie’s eyes shone with fervor.
“Then you must know that I would be a far better husband for her than any other fairy in this realm.”
“How did you jump to that conclusion?” the brownie asked skeptically.
“I have treated Asha with nothing but respect,” the prince said haughtily. “Unlike Corvine,” he added pointedly. “I would never abuse a woman in that fashion.”
Eyeing the Unseelie fairy, the brownie heaved a reluctant sigh. “You aim to join the tournament, then?”
“I do. I also intend to win it. I will be the Unseelie King.”
Weighing up his options, the brownie shrugged. “If it’s your destiny to be King, I’ll not stand in your way, my lord.” He waved his hand and the fairy’s clothing changed to all black rather than a combination of black and brown. He wouldn’t be immediately recognized by his outfit now and would remain unnoticed, as long as he didn’t draw attention to himself.
“You have my thanks,” Dacrith said, surprising them both. Asha’s manners had rubbed off on him, it seemed.
“Don’t make me regret it,” the brownie said, then vanished.
Hexam paused on gnawing one of his bones to look up at his companion. “What?” Dacrith asked and the beast cocked his head to the side while the other two heads kept eating. “You think my plan to join the tournament is a bad one?” The hound almost seemed to shrug, then resumed chomping on the bone. “You’re of no help to me,” the warrior muttered.
Placing his chin on his fist, he pondered on his dilemma. His face was too well known for him to just stroll into the palace and sign up for the tournament. He was no longer confident that he could use magic to change how he looked. That meant he would have to use other means to alter himself.
Thinking long into the night, he failed to come up with a solution to his problem. He was almost lucky for the unending storm that lashed the land. It gave him an excuse to keep his hood over his face. Thanks to the brownie who had changed his clothing, he was indistinguishable from most fairies who had taken to the roads for transportation now. Black was the most common color they wore. Hexam kept his distance and remained out of sight as they made their way northwards.
Several rivers crossed their path. They saw the full extent of the flooding when they came to a bridge that had been washed away. A growing crowd of pedestrians stood on both sides of the road, helplessly peering at the hundred-yard gap. The water had overflowed, taking the bridge with it. The river was flowing too fast for them to be able to attempt to cross it.
“How long has the bridge been out?” Dacrith asked a satyr.
“Two days,” the goat-legged man replied sourly. “The soldiers have sent for the gnomes to fix it, but they’re taking their sweet time to get here.” He had stubby horns growing out of his forehead and a triangular beard on his chin. His hair was curly, but bedraggled from the rain.
Cursing beneath his breath, Dacrith couldn’t afford to be delayed. It could take days for the gnomes to arrive. Their kind were few and far between in this realm. While they would be paid well to repair the bridge, they might not be able to use magic. It could take them weeks to complete the project.
Seeing the glow of three pairs of orange eyes peering at him through the gloom, the prince slipped away from the crowd. He followed the hound into a clump of trees, which offered them scant cover from the deluge. “Do you have a plan?” he asked the beast sardonically. One of Hexam’s heads swung towards the river pointedly. “Yes, we must find a way across,” he said, striving for patience. “Unfortunately, the current will most likely sweep us away before we’ll even make it halfway to the other side.”
Rolling his eyes, the Cerberus began to grow. This time, he didn’t stop until he was monstrous in size. Bending, he grabbed hold of the fairy by the scruff of his neck and waded across the raging torrent. He dropped Dacrith, then shrank back down, looking extremely pleased with himself.
“You think you’re very clever, don’t you?” Dacrith said sourly, glad the rain washed away the slobber that had coated him. The beast whined and looked up at him, seeking approval. “You did well,” he conceded with a sigh and thumped Hexam on the side. He hated to admit it, but he’d grown used to the dog’s company. The beast made his solitary life more bearable. “Come on,” he said. “We’d best get moving. We still have a long way to travel.”
They skirted around the gathering who were impatiently waiting to cross the river. Dacrith headed back to the road so he could listen to the rumors while Hexam remained out of sight. So far, they hadn’t been detected. Hopefully, the soldiers who had been searching for Asha’s mysterious escort would think he was still trapped on the other side. They must suspect that he would enter the tournament by now. They would want to know exactly who he was before they would allow him to participate.
