43. THE SPRITE

THE SPRITE

SHADOW

The sprite moved like a shadow, paying homage to her name.

She was a Sunnarian, born to a warrior clan, bread to kill, and though she hadn’t been in a battle in over a hundred years, her instincts were as sharp as they had ever been. It was in her blood, the hunger to kill when justice needed to be served.

And in this instance, justice was overdue.

When the sprite was a young warrior, recently marked by the elders after her first ten kills, she had been boastful and rash. She’d thought herself invisible, unstoppable.

She had been wrong. So wrong.

Disobeying orders from her commanding officer, Shadow had attempted to rescue a group of kidnapped Sunnarians, peaceful members of her clan, who were taken by slavers to be sold into bondage or indenture.

She imagined herself returning to her village with the abducted clan members and being hailed as a hero. Instead, she ended up a prisoner herself, locked up with all the others, and shipped far away from home. The slavers had a powerful sorcerer, who used his powers for evil and profit.

It was never a fair fight: Shadow’s spear and courage against magic.

A month later, she was sold to the highest bidder to serve as a lowly spy, a fly on the rafters as her overlord called her. Bound by magic that prevented her from escaping, she was forced to serve that awful male for over twenty years.

She despaired, thought she would forever be his subject, until one day, the Seelie King and Queen came to the overlord’s mansion on official business.

Per usual, her overlord sent Shadow to spy on his guests. He wanted to find out what it would take for the Seelie King to offer him the vacant council member post he’d lusted over for so long.

As Shadow hid in the monarchs’ assigned chamber, the Seelie Queen immediately sensed her presence.

“Come down, sprite,” the queen commanded, staring straight toward Shadow’s hiding spot near the ceiling.

Unsure how the female had spotted her—this had never happened to Shadow before—she flew down and landed gracefully on the queen’s boudoir.

“What are you doing here?” Queen Eithne demanded.

There was no magic to prevent Shadow from speaking the truth, so she did. “My overlord sent me to spy on you and the king.”

The queen’s cold gaze bore into Shadow, carefully assessing her. After a moment, she nodded. “I see. And what information does he hope to gain?”

“He wants to know how to win your husband’s favor and be allowed to become a council member of the Seelie Court.”

The queen thought for a moment, then said, “Tell your lord that it takes more than spying to win the favor of the Seelie King. Tell him that it takes loyalty, honor, and above all, trust.”

Shadow clenched her jaw. If she relayed these words to her overlord, he would have her tortured by his sorcerer.

“What is the matter?” the queen asked.

“Nothing. I shall give him your message.”

Shadow flew up from the boudoir and headed for the door, bracing herself for the pain to come.

“On second thought,” the queen said. “I will come with you.”

That day, the Seelie Queen confronted Shadow’s overlord, swore to him that he would never be a council member, and paid a large sum of gold to purchase Shadow. Or at least that was what the sprite thought was happening. In fact, what Queen Eithne had done was to buy Shadow’s freedom. Expecting nothing in exchange, the queen told the sprite she was free to go back to her people.

But Shadow was ashamed to go home. Moreover, she felt she owed the queen a debt, for the queen had upheld justice, the way Shadow had been born to do. So instead, the sprite offered her services to the queen, as a spy or whatever else the queen desired.

And for a hundred years, Shadow had stayed by Eithne’s side, and during that time, the sprite was never asked to do anything at all, except offer her companionship, and thus a true friendship developed between them.

Now, that friendship had been severed. Forever.

Justice had to be served. That was why Shadow was here.

She had found him. It hadn’t been hard. He thought nothing of the minor folk, thought them incapable of anything noteworthy, like the spy network they possessed. And he would never learn otherwise because his life was forfeit.

Flying as silently as the wind, Shadow descended from her spot in the rafters. The once-prince lay sleeping on a bed that he surely considered beneath him. He had taken refuge in an inn located in a small town outside of Nerethien. He had sold his gaudy jewels and was on his way to retrieve the treasure he had hidden in case his plans took a bad turn, which they had.

He snored slightly, blond hair matted to a sweaty forehead.

Alighting on the pillow softer than a feather, Shadow pressed her spear to Cardian’s neck. His blue eyes sprang open.

“Don’t move,” Shadow warned.

She could have killed him without him realizing death was upon him, but she wanted Cardian to know who had ended him. More importantly, she wanted him to know why.

“My name is Shadow Eira, and I am here to impart justice for the death of my friend Eithne Adanorin.”

“Shadow, what are you… doing?” he asked in nervous spurts. “This is me, your prince.”

“You are no prince of mine. You are a murderer.” She leaned into the spear, pressing it to a throbbing vein in Cardian’s neck.

“Stop. I have treasure. Lots of gold. I’ll give it to you. All of it.”

“Gold means nothing to me, and now it will mean nothing to you too.”

He tried to move, but he was slow, no match for a Sunnarian warrior’s reflexes. The needle-like spear lanced through the vital artery. With one swift motion, the sprite dragged the weapon down, down, down, ripping a wide hole through which a river of blood gushed out, staining the yellow sheets even as Cardian tried hopelessly to staunch the bleeding.

With that done, Shadow slipped out of the room through a crack in the window and flew into the night sky. There was someone else who would get a visit from her tonight. A certain overlord who, as promised, would never get to be a council member in the Seelie Court.

After that, Shadow would surrender herself to the mercy of Kalyll Adanorin. Whatever he decided her fate should be, she would face it with dignity.