Hexed

make your journey easier,” Trenyth said. But my mind was far away, returning over and over to the bloody room and what was left of my fiancé. And the dark shadow he had become.

TWO
     

     
    THE STREETS WERE NEARLY CLEAR BY THE time we pulled up in front of the Wounded Warrior. Trenyth had given us climbing rope and food, and delicately light elfin cloaks that shed snow and water and cold like a duck’s down. As he helped me out of the carriage, he took me aside.
    “Mistress Iris, I have something for you and I want you to promise me you’ll carry it with you.” He held out a small jewelry box.
    I frowned, slowly accepting it. “What is this?”
    Inside the velvet box sat a ring, a silver ring with a blue stone. It was beautiful and ornate, the band embellished with etchings of roses and leaves, but the energy coming from it was obscured to me.
    “This is a ring of Shevah. It captures the spirit of Elqaneve and draws on the powers of Queen Asteria. It will strengthen you in the storm and shadow, and guide you when you are not sure of which direction to go. It won’t save you from harm, nor will it bring you victory, but the gift it bears may help see you through your task with a little more safety.”
    His soft smile touched my heart, and I gazed into the eyes of the royal assistant. He was right-hand man to the Queen, her personal bodyguard. We had seen into his heart and knew something he didn’t even know about himself—Trenyth was in love with Queen Asteria. She was his all, and he would die for her. Any gift or help he gave to us had come from the heart of a gentle soul.
    I held up the ring. It had been sized for small fingers, and so I slipped it on my right index finger and it fit, perfectly. As I gazed at the soft glow of the gem, a tear slid down my cheek and I found myself crying—just a little.
    “Oh, Lady Iris.” Trenyth slipped his arms around me and I rested my head on his chest as he patted my back. “You’ll come through this. I know you will. I have faith in you.”
    Sniffling, I pulled myself together and gave him a soft smile. “I wish I had as much faith in myself. I just . . . don’t know.”
    He offered me his handkerchief and then, as we headed toward the bar, he saluted us. “Be safe. Contact me within four days’ time or I will send a search party.” And then, before I could say a word, he leapt into the carriage and the horses clattered off down the cobblestone streets.
     
    THE INSIDE OF the tavern was dour, filled with shadow and the scent of overly sweet wine and hops. I glanced around, and toward the back, sitting at a long table alone, with a pitcher of beer in front of him, sat the Great Winter Wolf Spirit. Oh, how he shone. The season had quickened him. His wolf pelts were shimmering white and he sat tall, his skin pale against the dark tones of the table.
    I motioned for the others to follow me and we headed toward the table. Howl glanced up at me.
    “And so you come, Lady Iris.”
    “And so I do. These are my friends, Smoky, Camille, and Rozurial.”
    He gazed at them silently for a moment, then bid us all sit down. “Dragon, Witch, Incubus. And all bound to shadow, as is the Lady Iris.” He turned to Camille. “Though your shadows stem from another realm, far more terrifying than her own.”
    At Camille’s startled look, he added, “I am an Elemental Lord. You expect anything less than my insight?” Before she could answer he drained his pint and stood. “You have struck the bargain, Iris. There is no turning back. Come, follow me. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can find out the truth of your past.”
    Howl led us to the door, then out into the snow-shrouded street. I glanced up at the shimmering flakes that softly drifted to the ground. The elfin cloaks were warm, and I was grateful that Trenyth had stopped us before we left. We’d brought packs and gear, but now we were much better prepared. Smoky and Roz were carrying most of the equipment on their backs, leaving just our packs to Camille and me.
    Passersby gave us wide berth—Howl was well known in Elqaneve and Dahnsburg, though he seldom went south of either city. The Winter Wolf Spirit was known to be volatile. He’d tear out your throat for as little as looking at him wrong, and yet he might just as easily rescue your child caught in the rapids of a rushing stream. Most people—elves, Fae, and Cryptos alike—found it safest to avoid the Elemental Lord.
    We followed him through the