2

Luc Zelsor and the Moment His Life was Ruined Forever

It all started with that proclamation in the newspaper. Luc had met with a clingy-seeming human in response to a poorly constructed message he'd spotted in the "ADVERTISEMENTS" section. The female had seemed eager to allow him to live in her settlement of three hundred rooms for rent. In fact, Luc hardly had to use his powers of persuasion on her at all.

Thankfully, he only had a single bag of belongings he needed to bring—a satchel that contained a few small treasures he'd collected while hiding among the humans. Nothing too fancy. He already gave away most of the money he'd swindled from easily fooled beings in exchange for pebbles that looked like gold. Those bills now rested in the clingy human's hands as a deposit. Apart from that, Luc only owned a spare sweater, a pair of running shoes, a few other garments he'd slid into his large coat pockets from a variety of shops. And a thin, dainty thing called a " toothbrush " which he loved dearly for the way it made his beautiful teeth feel.

He headed back to the park where he'd stowed his belongings in a secret bush. He could have airslipped, but the weather was breezy and perfect, and Luc decided he'd rather walk. Once he tackled the bush, he strapped his satchel over his arm and headed back to the three-hundred-room settlement to see his new home. To lay eyes upon his new " roommate ".

He should not have been so excited to sleep in a real bed, to get running water at his bidding, to lounge upon furniture that wasn't a park bench, to meet the dumb human who was now bound by this realm's law to remain at his side, but he was.

"Oh dear," he sighed to himself, a broad, destructive grin spreading over his face. Some poor human fool was about to become his slave for the next three months. Hopefully longer.

It would be pleasant to have a servant again, the way he'd had one when he was a childling hopping around the Shadow Palace. Life had been far easier in those days when others prepared him feasts, fitted him for clothes, did the cleaning.

When Luc rounded a corner to take a shortcut between two buildings, a wail brought him to glance over his shoulder.

On the sidewalk, a childling wiped a tear from his eye. A larger male—likely the boy's father—stood over him. At first, Luc turned away and continued on his quest, uninterested. But when the father's voice lifted, and a pained squeal escaped the boy, Luc found himself in the air, appearing at the father's side just in time to grab the fool's swinging arm before it might swat the blubbering childling. It wouldn't have been a hard strike—more like a frustrated jostle—but a father's strike was a strike, nonetheless.

The father's startled gaze lifted to the fox. Luc's dark, luminous eyes narrowed upon him.

"Who in the world are—"

Luc snapped the fool's nose. It happened so quickly; the father barely had a chance to inhale another breath before a thin stream of blood spurted out of his off-tilt nostrils.

" Gah ! What's the matter with you?!" the father spat, slapping a hand over his destroyed snout.

"A lot of things," Luc said in his coolest, smoothest voice. "But mostly, I despise cruel fathers." Luc tossed the human's hand from his grip, nearly sending the father off balance. "Now, then. Be kind to your childling, you cowardly gull." He stepped in, allowing a cold wind to sweep over the father's exposed flesh. "Or I'll hunt you down, and your broken snout will be the least of your problems."

The father's face paled. He staggered back a step, then scurried around Luc to reach for the boy's hand. The two hurried off, the childling craning his little neck to look back at Luc all the while. Luc cast the boy a wink. It was a small assurance that his father would now behave, or Luc would do something about it.

It was also a lie. Luc didn't have the time or will to go hunting for this father ever again.

Luc turned to be on his way, adjusting his satchel at his shoulder. He headed between the buildings, taking a gander at the shining sun that promised this cool fall day would be warm and delightful. He smiled deliciously at that gorgeous golden medallion resting in the sky, bathing him in warmth and beauty. The sky deities had parted the clouds for him this morning. Perhaps they were working in his favour, bestowing blessings upon him for the first time in his life.

He had only one stop to make before he went to his new home. He hurried across the outskirts of the city until he came to a small orchard of trees. Browning apples dangled heavy on the branches, many already free and crushed to applesauce on the grass from whatever wildlife roamed these parts. He glided through the orchard on light feet, stopping at a great, thick trunk with a picture carved deep into its base: a circle with two triangle ears on top. A fox.

Luc dropped to a knee and grabbed a nearby branch to dig. It took him several minutes to unearth a small crate and drag it onto the grass. He batted loose soil from his hands, and he scrunched his nose when it tickled. He rushed a shaky inhale, then another, then…

The sound of his sneeze echoed through the orchard and into the sporting field beyond the shrubs. Luc froze, staring at the path, waiting to see if he'd alerted anyone and given away his special hiding spot in the orchard .

It was a strange thought, that he should be so concerned of humans. It wasn't as though humans were difficult to deal with. It was a mystery why he'd grown so cautious around them.

He relaxed after a few seconds went by and no other souls presented themselves. But the moment he turned back to his crate, his nose tickled again. He shook off the feeling, blinking back the moisture in his eyes. He cursed.

Could he really have developed human allergies? Had he been in the human realm that long?

He lifted his hands, eyeing the dirt as he flipped them front to back. They still looked like strong fae hands. Surely he hadn't stolen enough secrets to change anything. He hadn't bothered to take even a single secret since…

Ah, there was no point in thinking about Mor Trisencor now. It was all over, forever. Luc would be hunted down if the human news stations began picking up on his actions again. It was better to forget it all and think of a new plan.

He shook his head and chuckled at himself as he dragged the crate closer. The silver latch flicked open at his bidding, and he swung the lid wide to reveal the crate's precious contents: a few Canadian dollar bills—the last of his coin—a weathered mythology journal he'd stolen from a bookstore that told him all sorts of hilarious things about what humans thought of foxes and fae, and…

Luc pushed the bills aside and reached for a small square of parchment. He lifted it into the sunlight. It was blank, front and back, apart from a tiny dot of slightly discoloured water damage in the corner. But he stared at it, nonetheless. He stared at that corner that was once a wet spot.

He chewed on his lip in thought. Then he tossed the parchment back into the trunk, scooped out the remainder of his bills, and shoved them into his satchel.

There it was.

The sky-high, three-hundred-room settlement beckoned Luc onward as he emerged from the alley. He went straight to the thing that Beth—the clingy female—had told him was called a " keypad ," and he jabbed the appropriate numbers to unseal the doors.

His nose wrinkled a little as he caught a whiff of sour milk when he stepped inside. There was a pleasant aroma of ice cream in the air, too, and a broad smile crossed his face. It was a sure sign of good things to come, since ice cream had a special enchantment to make everything better, always.

Luc took the stairs two at a time, then, when he was sure no one was around to see, he airslipped the rest of the way up to the third floor.

The door to apartment 3E was wide open, ready for him. He came around the corner, his nose scrunching again. There was a strange scent coming from the apartment, something that reminded him of battle. Something that—for a split second—dragged him back to a day in the Shadow Army when he'd slain nearly a hundred North Fairies as they tried to intervene in the Shadow Army's takeover of the South Corner of Ever.

"Cursed human allergies," Luc remarked to himself. He rubbed his nose roughly as he reached the room.

A wave of the scent washed over him, and his feet came together as his flesh tightened into bumps. He was not imagining it.

He stood there, in the doorway, completely still. He didn't dare take a step inside until he figured out what the problem was with the air in this place.

It became clear only when Luc lifted his silver gaze and beheld the animal a mere stone's throw away, filling the apartment with the stench of northern ice, senseless loyalty, and the aura of battle stories to anyone with the ability to see wild tales tucked into small spaces. It felt like a dream of siren song—an illusion meant to torment. Luc wasn't sure how to wake himself from it.

For, standing within the confines of his new apartment was not the dumb human servant he'd signed up to enslave.

"Queensbane." Luc said it so silently, not even the perky-eared North Fairy in the living room ogling at a crisp white paper heard it.

Luc thought to leave, but he glanced over at the kitchen where the well pump rested above the sink, promising unlimited hot water whensoever he wished by the mere flick of a lever. Something within him released a silent moan as he then gazed over at the bedrooms where plush mattresses and quilts invited him to get the rest he so desired. There was even a couch.

"You're here!" It seemed Beth was also in the apartment. Luc hadn't even noticed her.

Forget the debate. He wanted hot water and a bed.

Luc stepped into the apartment. His apartment.

"Oh dear," he said, announcing himself to the North Fairy. A despicable laugh slipped out. "I never agreed to live with a guard dog."

Mor's guard dog.

Luc's jaw hardened; his eyes narrowed. This horrid fairy and his white-haired brother had stolen one of Luc's lives—an act so detestable and unforgiveable that it put a fresh fire in Luc's blood. His lips curled into a dangerous smile for the North Fairy to see. A tone filled the fairy's expression that told a merry story of being absolutely, positively, undeniably taken off guard.

It was truly beautiful.

Perhaps, now that Luc had the fool trapped, he would find a vile and cruel way to make him pay for all he'd done.