The Faerie Slayer
Chapter 3

Kade's POV

The upside to Aubrette Evergreen's whereabouts tonight was that I did not have to blend and lurk to be hidden from her sight. The club was teeming with witless mortals swaying away to the sounds they surmised as music. I stalked my prey all night, and when I'd caught sight of the strange boy clothed in formal wear talking to Aubrette, it took me mere seconds to distinguish that something was up. This was no mortal, I could spot the upbringing of the shadow world in every step he took and breath he forged. Now, veiled by the bushes that panelled the nearby alleyway, I watched as the boy, Jack, led the faerie girl away. She seemed to drift more then walk, as if her intents were at the will of the boy. I followed behind, quite as a night owl. In my head, I tried to distinguish the creature. I caught sight of a long bluish tail, furry at the tip that exhibited from the top of the boys dress pants. He did not bother to ensconce it as he had before. This was a creature of the folk, it's abilities to glamour and deceive revealed as much. I recalled the shapeshifting pixie from a previous mission and reminded myself that she could only shape-shift into objects that were within sight. Whatever this creature was, it was clear that it had glamoured the faerie girl into submission which should have been impossible. I had been studying the powers of the folk for as long as I could remember and concluded by both study and experience that their creatures cannot be enticed by glamours. The only answer to this riddle rendered my suspicion true, that Aubrette Evergreen was no faerie. Why would my father summon me to kill the girl if she did not belong to the folk? Could he be mistaken?

Regardless of the answer, the girl must be tied to the folk people in one way or another. I carried on, a dozen meters behind, often running my fingers over my ring of salt to ensure I had it, incase I needed it. Dressed in my leather shifting gear, I was armoured with hidden pockets that bore a small amount of sugar and a dagger by the name of Ferrum. I halted when they began to slow down, close by the riverbank. Why are they by the water? A paragraph from my Book of Folklore drifted atop my pondering.

'The faerie world exists only through cloud or creek. One must be invited to or summoned. There are no uninvited guests in faerie.'

Aubrette could not fly nor summon a log into her personal aircraft, she was no faerie to bear the ability to travel through cloud to the faerie world, which left the only other possible way to get to it; through a body of water. I watched with keen fascination as the blue-tailed boy summoned a portal. The waters in the river began colliding against one another in mossy green waves. The tides eventually came together to form a miniature tornado within. The typhoon was rapidly increasing in speed, slowly revealing an opening within its structure. I knew if I was going to save the girl, I had to do it now before the portal had completely gaped a doorway. I rose from within the shadows, fingers wrapped around Ferrum. The boy glanced back to meet my gaze, and it was just that second of acknowledgment that I needed. A sugar-coated Ferrum was flying through the air and it's target was located between the faerie boy's shoulders. I did not want to aim for his head, as puncturing the brain was the only way to stab him to death. I wanted him alive long enough to answer my questions. My beloved dagger never failed me and the boy was struck as per my intent. Aburette tumbled to the ground now released from his grasp, eyes completely sealed. My first thought was to make sure she was alright. I pulled her away from the river to realize she was now unconscious. I'd only hoped that she was merely glamoured and not poisoned, I had no time nor supplies to confect an antidote. I lifted the glass cap above the ring on my fingers and sprinkled a small amount of salt on her lips. The glass on the ring shattered as if too fragile for my stiff fingers and out spilled the entire contents on the neck of the girl. I had no time to recollect. By the water, Ferrum possessed enough sugar to coerce the faerie boy distracted. He licked on the coated metal with desperation, eyes pleading up at me for more. When the dagger was wiped clean, the boy watched as my fingers emerged from my pockets, holding a small packet of some more of his dynamite. He set Ferrum down and approached me.

"Please," his voice no longer matched his appearance. It was soft and cartoon-like. He squealed, rather then spoke," I'll do anything."

"Shift," I commanded, nabbing Ferrum from the bushes," to your true form."

There was no hesitation. The faerie boy shifted, revealing his true identity.

A trow.

I couldn't help the look of disgust that inhabited my expression. Trows were small and hideous in appearance with snouts longer then tapir's and claws for hands. The stench of a trow was similar to rotting flesh, it was almost unbearable to stand within talking distance. The hunch back faeries were mischievous in nature and usually worked as messengers and couriers in their shadow world.

"What is your purpose?" I demanded, hovering the newly sugar-coated dagger briefly over his lips. I watched as a long and thick grey-coloured tongue flicked the blade and drew it back.

"I am here to retrieve the half-child," he mumbled in between little jumps as an attempt to reach the blade.

"What is she to you?"

"To me she is no one, but the girl must die so others can prosper."

"Is she a different type of faerie?" I wondered if there was a type that I did not know about. One that could mask itself mortally.

"The human girl has royal blood ,her fate is forethought."

What the hell does that mean?

"Is she human or folk? Is she both?"

The trow did not acknowledge me.

"Answer me!" I demanded, slicing the faeries tongue with the tip of my blade. As if the pain was defunct, the trow carried on desperately towards Ferrum," what do you want with her?"

"She knows not of her bloodline. Without the girl, the crown is doomed. I must retrieve her for my Madame to kill."

"Who's your Madame? Are you referring to the Queen of Fey?"

The trow peered at me, eyes wide open, as if returned from a trance.

"My madame is not the queen, but fear not, she will also be coming for the head of the girl, not to kill but to immure."

"What is the girl if not faerie?" The trow was now chanting words with brisk lips and I realized I had run out of sugar. I had seconds before I would be glamoured and enslaved to the will of the trow. I reached for my ring but realized that it had shattered. I leaped for the ground where the salt had spilled on top of the girl and rubbed the remainder on the gums of my teeth. By the time I glanced back, the compact typhoon in the water was closing, retrieving the creature with it.

Aubrette was still in a state of torpor by the time I had reached her home. Dawn was nearing and her cellphone had not stopped ringing. I rested the girl on a thicket of bush outside of her porch and debated leaving her there. Concluding that it wasn't the brightest idea seeing as the folk were after her, I decided it were best if I got her inside. The driveway had no vehicle unlike the night before. There was no indication that anyone was inside. I wondered where her parents were. I decided to knock on the front door and if anyone were to answer, I'd doubt they'd mind my presence as I come bearing their drunken teenage daughter. I awaited a response but nothing followed but the echo of my fist. I reached for the iron doorknob but the door was locked. I sighed to myself.

I could not bring the girl back to the chalet unless she was in a cluster of pixie dust for my father to store in his room of trophies. I had to figure out a way in.

The keys are probably in her pocket.

I studied the girls outfit, careful not to touch her unless I needed to. I wondered how she had fared being outside with such little clothes on. My shifting suit was made of thick leather, and even I could not help but feel the breeze. She must be dreaming of being somewhere cold right now.

I caught sight of a plant pot situated right side of the building. I lifted the object and to my relief, underneath plonked a small brass key. I unlocked the door with eagerness to get tonight over with. I lifted the girl who was slowly beginning to drift back to consciousness. Inside, I was momentarily taken aback by how ordinary everything seemed. A burgundy chesterfield was the main attraction inside of a roosted living room and picture frames hung where ever there were white space. Almost as if my eyes could not adjust to the living space of a mundane household, I could not help but wonder if there was a weapon room or perhaps a study to host meetings and important conversations in.

I shook the thoughts and proceeded up the creaky stairs. Having recalled seeing Aubrette at the right side of the house at her window last night, I safely assumed her bedroom. Inside, the walls were painted to resemble light amethyst to match the sheets on her bed. As of the theme of the bedroom delineated the scent, the room smelled subtly of lavender flowers. I laid the girl gently on the queen plush bed and avoided looking into her fluttering eyes. I snaffled the spare second I had to take in my surroundings. An ivory chest stood parallel to the bed. On top were pieces of jewelry, perfume and makeup.

Not that she would ever need it.

I frowned at the impuissant thought but did not dwell. I could hear the girl begin to toss. My time was up. I veered for the door.

"Wait," her faint voice arrested me," please, stay."

Knowing I shouldn't have, I turned to glance at her anyway. The girls eyes were now wide open and she was gazing at me as if despondent. I suddenly failed to recollect memory of how to speak nor breath.

"Lay with me," she continued, her words fading out into a velvety whisper,"Jack."

The glamour must have not yet faded, I realized. Still, I was triggered with a certain pique that I did not care to self explain. Instead, I spun back around and headed for the exist.

The trip back to the chalet was fleet, or perhaps it was because I was so lost in thought. I had less then twenty-four hours to present the faerie's ashes to my father. Alternatively, I could accuse him of being mistaken. I could not distinguish between the two, which would be worse. To fail meeting my deadline and terminating the girl, or to call my father a fool. The real questions remains, who is Aubrette Evergreen and what does she have that the folk want so vehemently?

'I am here to retrieve the half-child.'

'The human girl has royal blood.'

The words of the trow contradict each other. It was not possible for the girl to bear faerie blood, let alone be considered royalty to the folk people in addition to being mortal. The only thing that made sense was that she were both. Half faerie, half mortal.

I have only read about the tales of the Moiety Children. As per my knowledge, the head of the Seelie Court; the foremost rulership of the faerie world, would decree the fetus dead. There are unconfirmed bavardage that the Unseelie Courts that home the more dark and wayward members of the folk would enslave the Moiety Children.

I realized that I was getting too involved in the politics of folk. My task at hand was to kill the faerie girl. Faerie blood, no matter the bearer, is enemy blood.

Back at the chalet, I strutted up the stairs and past my bedroom door. At the end of the hallway was a corridor leading to additional bedrooms. The third one to the right was my grandmothers. I wrapped my fingers around the metal door knocker but before I could alert her my presence, I heard her voice.

"Come in."

I smiled slightly and let myself in. The elderly lady was seated on her bed, in her lap a plate bearing apples and oranges. The television was on but I knew her well enough to know that it was mere background noise.

"Grandmother," I timidly bowed my head," I thought you might be asleep."

"You know me, Kade, I'm up with the moon," she used a dagger to slice an apple and hand it to me. I took my seat across from her.

"I have something I'd like to talk to you about."

Her thin mouth formed a wise simper,"when you get to be my age, that becomes the reason for most visits."

I suddenly felt ashamed," you're right, my apologies."

"Don't apologize. Now tell me what is the matter?"

"During your days as a Faerie Slayer, have you ever come across a Moiety Child?"

She shook her head," The Moiety Children don't survive, and if they do, they suffer greatly and are forced to live out their sentence as object of the courts."

"Do you think they exist today? Faeries with the blood of mortals running through veins."

"They exist," the women's answer startled me," but they are hidden, here amongst us."

"How would we know?"

"There is no way to distinguish a mortal who bears the blood of the folk. A Moiety Child is more mortal then immortal. They look and age as humans do, live mundane lives and posses the strengths of the folk only if they were to cognize it."

"During your time as a slayer, had you come across a Moiety Child, would you have killed it?"

The elder women pursed her lips and looked as if she were suddenly taken elsewhere in thought. The question seemed to perplex her.

"Do you remember the tale of the Rogue Wolf and the Pixie Girl?"

I was puzzled that she would ask that. The story was a tale from when I was a child. I nodded, having mere recollection of the fable.

"What most kids aren't told is that the story is real. It's how the werewolf and folk war really began."

As children, we were always taught that there was some truth to the tale, as for the werewolf and folk war, it was always presumed that they were dangerous creatures and that we could not coexist in a world with them. It's either kill or be killed and it has been this way forever. All over the world for centuries, every pack devoted a Faerie Slayer to keep their territories safe.

"The wolf boy in the story was just a teenager, he had not found his way back to his pack after the Neuri Ritual, once he'd shifted for the first time, he ran off into the forest and never returned. Days letter, he was starving. He did not have the will nor training to kill a stag, and so he wondered in between the trees in hopes of a miracle."

I nodded in a reminiscence. I suddenly felt as if I were a teen again in residential school, eyes watching the clock whilst the teacher recited a chapter from the history books. The Neuri Ritual occurred whenever a werewolf child shifts for the first time. Powered by the first full moon on their sixteenth birthday, pack members would gather around to aid, but the reality is, the first transition is the most brutal and no one but yourself can truly help you. I remember disappearing into the woods, feeding on whatever preys and live bait existed until finally retracing home.

"During one dawn, there she was, by the creek, a breathtaking faerie girl with long chestnut hair who fed him all night long. He quickly fell in love and when she offered to take him back home to his pack, he refused. He wanted to spend forever with the girl.

The story claims that the faerie girl was equally as mad in love with the boy. For weeks they roamed the woods, made homes in soils and forgot about the world. For weeks, he was a mere boy in love and she was a girl who was head over heels. Before the treaty, there was no consequence for their attachment to one another. One night, the faerie girl demands he take her to meet his family and of course, the boy obeys. His family did not approve, but atlas, their son was home and that was greater news. The night off, the boy woke up to an empty bed. Outside, the members of the pack were gathered around and at the center was the faerie girl. In their hands were silver daggers pointed to their chests.

The boy realized that the girl must have glamoured the pack. They were all awaiting her command to pierce through their own hearts. That night, over two thousand members of the Ferrus Pack were executed by the command of one wicked faerie girl. As for the boy, no one is ever sure what really happened to him, whether he was killed, or maybe he was glamoured to love her eternally, or perhaps he overlooked who she was and remained. Days later, the treaty was created. Globally, all werewolves of all packs and courts declared war on the people of the folk, forever."

"I had always thought that the reason we detested faeries are for obvious reasons. I had no idea that the treaty came into effect after the massacre."

"My point is my boy, every faerie is wicked. Whether full or half, to bear the blood of the folk is to be evil. A Moiety Child has the capabilities to flourish into the darkest creature, if given the chance."

I thought of Aburette and how she gazed at Ben with big bosky eyes whilst he sang to the music she could hardly endure. It was almost impossible to think of her as something bearing vile intent. She was an angel in more ways then faerie.

I had to remind myself that its just that, that made them so dangerous.

"Faerie blood, no matter the bearer, is enemy blood," she orated," to answer your question, yes, I would have killed a Moiety Child had I ever run into one."

Grandmothers words had cleared the fog that stymied my decision-making. If Aubrette was half faerie, then she was bound to becoming a creature of evil intent , it was merely a matter of when.

Back in my room, I fiddled with the pockets of my shifting gear to garner the alloy timer. Twenty-hours is how long I had left to present Aubrette to my father as a packet of faerie dust.

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