8. Malkar

8

Malkar

I loathe the fae more than I loathe most who are not my kind.

But then, very few are.

We are a superior species by quality but not quantity, with memories that stretch back for millennia.

Our numbers have never been high. In the old realm, elves in particular used to take great pleasure in collecting and dissecting us for parts.

Thus my hatred for their kind.

Sambora owes me a life debt, one he was supposed to repay two years ago.

His blood and pain in exchange for my allowing his pathetic village to exist. And not this grand place, but the small village of Shaersyn a hundred leagues to the east.

But the shitty goblin took off on me while I was otherwise occupied. Thus it's been two long years until I've been able to get back here to take what's mine.

After decimating Shaersyn, of course .

Except instead of encountering the lying cretin, I've come to learn a fae upstart has collected my bounty.

All that tasty power. Now gone.

"Who the fuck are you?" I snarl.

The young fae male is too pretty to be common. He's got typical high fae features and dark eyes that glint with red.

So the tales of a fire sylph taking on Sambora are true.

But this one isn't just a sylph. According to rumor, he's a mage as well.

No wonder no one's gone up against him.

He'd probably burn them all to the ground.

But I'm not so easy to dispatch.

He steps around the table, a head shorter than me but muscular, like the many soldiers in this place. "Call me Firefly," he says in a well-modulated voice.

I stare at him, looking through his physical form to the spiritual form underneath.

By the Flame, he's dark and burning.

That rage will be tough to overcome.

I smile, pleased my effort to track down Sambora won't be in vain. "Let us take this disagreement outside, away from this fine establishment."

The idiots around us who have been giving me dark looks seem to lighten up.

The fiery fae walks up to me, stops to give me a dismissive onceover—I do like his air of boredom and disdain—and walks past me out of the pub.

Firefly continues, so I follow him.

We don't speak as we leave.

Though he does stop once to call over his shoulder, "Don't follow us."

I glance back to see the small party of fae quickly disperse .

We continue for some time in silence until we come upon a large clearing, mostly ash with small saplings and shoots of green threading through the rich soil.

Large trees surround us in a wide ring, aged with ancient life. There's something else here too, something I haven't sensed in a very long time.

Interesting.

It's not a god or demon, no ethereal creature or spawn. I sense… One of the Eternal?

There are five of them, beings who exist outside of life as we know it. I met one many years ago, an experience I have no wish to repeat.

What would one of them be doing around a place like this?

"Speechless at the sight of our ancient land?" Firefly asks, arrogance in every syllable though he sounds as if he couldn't care less. "Or scared of going up against me?"

I chuckle at his conceit. "I'm sure you fae eat this shit up. All the old growth giving way to new life. Dirt and trees and flowers. Whatever." I snort and give his pathetic self a dismissive onceover. "I'm not impressed."

"That's too bad."

Before I can respond, the upstart shoots a stream of fire at me.

I wave it away, crashing the flames, now a spear of ice, to the ground. "Typical. No decorum. You have no idea how a duel works, and you just flaunt the rules and justify it because you don't know them."

"Rules?" The fae is staring at the broken ice. "What rules? You have a problem with me. I'm going to solve it for you."

"How's that working for you, sport?" I sneer.

That sneer has started more fights and battles—and even a war, I'm proud to say—than I can count.

It works as well on this fae, I can tell. I add, "Well, lightweight. I'm waiting."

His eyes narrow, the color turning a brilliant orange.

Hotheads are so easy to manipulate.

I don't like him.

I don't like this town.

I wonder. Should I destroy them all before I go?

The warming weather is annoying as well. The bright bite of snow and cold have sloughed off as the earth gives way to the vernal equinox not long past.

Without warning, Firefly lobs a laced spell of still magic and cursed destruction.

Impressive in its scope, especially since I don't sense any imbued objects on his body. The scent of magic comes from him and only him.

I duck and roll into a crouch.

Jumping up, I dive through a hole in his magic.

A hole fae and regulars cannot see, but my kind can.

He swears as I stand and brush ash, dirt, and a few blades of grass from my clothes. "Not bad, but you're a little more pedestrian than I'd expected. How did you beat Sambora?"

The old goblin used to have layers of magical protection around his organs, shielding him from all harm and allowing for regeneration.

Firefly shrugs. "He wasn't all that tough when I fought him. I burned him and bled him and burned him some more. He died. End of story."

"Did he not mention he owed a debt?"

"He gave me some sob story about his village and a life debt. Right before he tried to curse me to death. Eh. I killed him." The fire fae's eyes narrow. "Maybe if you'd arrived earlier, you could have fought him yourself. I could have killed you then and saved myself this conversation. "

I have to laugh. "Okay, fledgling. You want to die quickly? I'll indulge you." I stab at his heart with my ice magic, bleeding through flesh into spirit.

Only to have him burn away the cold strike.

He fires back at me, all heat and rage.

I dodge and blitz him with a rushing attack.

Magic is never as satisfying as brutality with one's fists, fangs, and feet.

But the little bastard fights me back.

The battle turns more violent as we strike with our hands and feet, our magics canceling each other.

It's a rousing match, one I would happily continue until I freeze him to his bones, shift into my larger form, then devour him whole.

I'm readying to do just that, seeing a gap in his defenses, when a large net covers us both.

Shockingly, it burns. And the magic in it feels…familiar.

I cry out before I can stop myself.

I'm not the only one, though.

The fae is shouting and swearing as his flesh burns and mine freezes.

Impossible feats considering what we both are.

And then I hear a voice I never thought to hear again.

An enemy I've pledged to reduce to nothing but ash.

"Well, well, Malkar! What brings you to my neck of the woods?" Joyful laughter follows. The voice directs to someone else, "Bring them to Rilitar, along with the other one. Tell him we'll soon have a full tribute. Just a few more to go."

"Yes, Folas."

I struggle to get free, but I'm tangling more with the fae, which enrages me. I don't feel comfortable this close to anyone unless I'm fucking, fighting, or feeding.

And right now I'm lost to all three.

I manage to tear a hole in the net. I just need one more sec?—

Folas barks a word.

The darkness that follows crushes me.

I know nothing more.