But one legend that rings true in both light and dark fae lore is that the mighty god Vix heard Kamzel’s confession. Furious, he dragged his son Dagdal deep, deep into the mountains and bound him there, held in place by a god’s spell so that he would menace the fae creatures of the world no longer. Since he bore the touch of immortality from his father, he would remain chained in his cold, dark prison for eternity.
Some say that Dagdal cried out to his father and swore he would be free again one day. And that when he was, he would eat all the bright lights in the world until there was nothing left but darkness…and death.
This has been the story told to the light fae children for many ages. Mothers would warn their misbehaving faelings, “Be good or Dagdal willgetyou andeatyou.” The story has kept naughty children obedient for centuries. And though this frightening and sad story has been told throughout time, no one gave much thought to whether or not it was true.
Chapter 1
JESSAMINE
“Colder than a witch’s tit, I tell ya,” groused the old wraith fae as he guzzled the warm, spiked cider I’d set in front of him. He was a trapper, for certain, judging by the string of pelts he’d dragged into the tavern with him, not trusting any criminals about to leave them outside with his horse and cart. His two horns curled back out of his head, the tips coated with ice, as were the tips of his pointed ears.
Laughing, I added, “Good thing you avoided the worst of the weather. Haldek’s made a hearty venison stew.”
The wraith fae set his tankard down with a loud belch. “Pardon. Been in the woods too long. Needed that, I did.” He leaned toward me conspiratorially. “Bring me a bowl filled to the very top and there’s an extra coin in it for ya.” He gave me a wink.
I glanced over my shoulder to where Haldek was waiting on a table in the corner then whispered to the trapper, “I’ll cut your slice of bread a bit bigger, too, eh?”
“Thatta girl,” he chuckled, lifting his tankard again. Before he took another sip, he eyed me carefully. “What’s a pretty fae girl like you doing in these parts?”
I couldn’t count the number of times curious customers had asked me that. The Borderlands housed all kinds of fae—dark and light alike—but never had I seen one of my own kind so far from the Nemian Sea. That was exactly why I’d chosen it. It was a rough line of territory separating the Lumerian lands of the light fae from Northgall where the dark fae lived. It was made up of randomly situated inns, taverns, and a few mills, where any and all fae traveled and did business.
“I want to see all parts of the world. I’m just here to make a bit of money then I’ll be traveling on soon enough.”
It was somewhat the truth. I’d been here for months, but I was biding my time and saving my coin before I had to find another small village where I could hide.
“An adventurer, are you?” He grinned, revealing his long canines. “Like me, I’d say. You speak demon tongue pretty good for a foreigner.”
Smiling, I replied with pride, “I studied many languages with my tutor.”
I always thought my magickal gift to speak to naiads in their language had made it easier to learn other tongues. The dark fae language commonly called demon tongue had come to me almost as naturally as my native language, high fae.
“An educated girl, too.”
He raised a clawed finger, his gray skin pale from the cold, then he reached over to the bench at his side where his pile of furs sat. He pulled out a narrow, white pelt and handed it to me.
“How about you take this for your extra efforts on my behalf?”
I took the small but very fine, silky pelt. “Oh, I couldn’t. That’s worth far more than good service.” I gave him a smile and handed it back.
“You take it, girl. It would make a fine pair of gloves for those little hands of yours.” He frowned as he stared at my hands. “Just be mindful you measure for your, uh…” He gestured toward my webbed fingers.
“Thank you.” I smiled at him. “It’s very generous of you.”
The color filled his cheeks, his skin darkening to a deeper gray. He was blushing.
“Well, it’s not often I can get a pretty girl to smile like that at me. Besides,” his voice turned serious, “the elkmine otter’s hide is as soft as the fur. Touch it and see.”
I flipped the pelt over and ran my fingertips over the underside of the hide. “Wow, you’re right.”
“Hmph,” he grunted with confidence. “Trust me. Those will keep your dainty fingers warm, girl.” He gave me another wink. “The gods have been good. I got me a good prize of them. I can go home and rest till summer now.”
“Let me get that warm stew for you then.” I tucked the otter pelt into my apron pocket. “You’ll need it for the trek home, I imagine.”
“Aye. Not too far to go, but far enough.”
I hurried back through the small tavern, which was quieter than usual with very few customers out in this kind of weather. Haldek was in the kitchen when I entered, ladling stew into two bowls for the table he was serving.
“The old trapper always makes a stop here before returning home,” he told me as I stepped up to pour my customer’s bowl.
