City of Fae

We rounded a corner and passed through an arched doorway into the redbrick antechamber. Ahead an iron door blocked our path. Rust flaked off its hinges and bubbled along the seams. It looked like a piece of old London, forgotten down here, like everything else. Churches had iron doors like those to keep out demons; now I wondered if we had it wrong, and they’d been trying to keep the fae out.


Reign sucked in a breath. “Okay, don’t say or do anything. Once inside, I want you to hang back. Don’t draw attention to yourself unless I call.”

I nodded and tried to rub some warmth back into my arms. Reign’s breath misted, but otherwise the bitter cold didn’t appear to bother him.

So the queen was behind that door. I’d been expecting something more regal, and less dungeon-like. The rusted door didn’t even look as though it would open.

“It’s not too late to go back to your happy little life.”

I frowned up at him. “I can handle whatever’s in there.”

He didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked like he’d rather grab me and haul my ass out of there. Concern gouged deep worry-lines into his face. The fear I’d glimpsed was back, but he made no attempt to hide it; not this time.

“Reign, should I be afraid?”

He swallowed, gritted his teeth, and curled his fingers around the iron handle, “Yes.”





Chapter Nine


He heaved the iron door open. Aged metal and brittle hinges howled and groaned. Reign plucked his hands free and winced in pain. The fact iron seemed to burn him was the least of my concerns as he swung the protesting door closed behind us. Ahead, countless brick archways galloped into the distance. Candlelight licked over black puddles, reflecting ripples of light onto the crumbling brickwork. Like a hall of mirrors, the maze of arches seemed to reflect their opposites, until my addled mind couldn’t make sense of it. Reign’s footfalls echoed into the distance, swallowed by the endless quiet. The sound of dripping water certainly didn’t help ease the crawl of fear working its way up my spine.

I made a move to follow Reign inside, but he gestured for me to stay back and shook his head. He walked on, boots casting ripples through the puddles.

I really don’t like this. This place didn’t feel right. And it wasn’t just the creepiness. I was being watched. From where and by whom I couldn’t tell, but there was something here, something that triggered primal instincts, warning me to get away, to run and hide. What kind of queen lives here?

A scurrying to my right snapped at my attention. I peered into the layers of shadows, watched how the candlelight made the dark dance, but couldn’t find anything to account for the movement. Just my mind playing tricks.

Reign had walked far enough away that I couldn’t make out his expression when he glanced over his shoulder. I moved closer to one of the arches so I at least didn’t feel as exposed. A soft hiss rose up out of the quiet, almost like a faucet running, but not nearly as loud. A breeze maybe? Although I couldn’t feel any movement in the air.

“Ah, my Sovereign … You are late. One might think you intended to avoid me. Is it done?”

I flinched and tucked myself against the arch, out of sight. The voice was female, but strange, brittle, as though the words had fractured somewhere between her throat and lips. I could see Reign. Ahead of him, shadows rippled.

“You know it is.” Reign’s voice sounded as smooth as silk in comparison, making hers all the more abhorrent. “Your spies have surely told you.”

“I feel your doubt, youngling. Do you not trust your queen?”

There, movement in the shadow hugging the archway in front of Reign. Something clamped onto the bricks between the arch and ceiling. But it didn’t make sense. A bulbous body. Eight arched legs. That’s not possible. A spider, but huge. One of her eight needled-legs clicked against the bricks. Her swollen abdomen bobbed, drawing my eye to the jagged saw-toothed pattern of crimson on her black lacquered exoskeleton. Red on black: a warning. A scream lodged in my throat. No, no, this can’t be real. I pushed against the bricks, hoping they could somehow hide me from that thing. Her abdomen bobbed again and her back legs worked a silvery thread from her spinnerets, knitting with a clitter-clack. My gut heaved, adrenalin surged, fight or flight … Run!

“You almost failed. Need I remind you of your options? You are one of my many eyes. My web stretches far, a tapestry of spies, youngling. You are not my only loyal servant. Have you forgotten I hold your reins?”

“No.”

“I control you. Never forget that.”

“Oh, I haven’t.”

She dashed out of the dark and reared up over Reign in all of her monstrous glory. Fae and spider. Her upper body resembled a human woman, but from the waist down, she was all spider. The tapestry I’d seen earlier; the monsters tearing into each other; the spider, the hound, and the harpy. I clamped a hand over my mouth and bit back the scream. Reign stood before her, unmoving. She crowded him. He didn’t flinch as those branch-like legs encircled him. “My youngling, you are weak. You walk among them, and yet you starve yourself. It will be your undoing. You should not fear yourself. You have the potential to be glorious.”