Chapter
One
Dashrael
bristled at the summons as he strode the long hall of Nightfall
Castle. To think that Chancellor O’runa could call him at a
moment’s notice without regard for time or manner. Dashrael may be
of service but he was in no way a servant. Not to any creature in
the realm, especially not a pompous high fae who thought himself
better than the mer folk.
As he walked,
his bare webbed feet slapped wetly against the gleaming black
tiles. He didn’t care if he left watery footprints all over the
pristine castle floors. It was a small reward for his unexpected
summons. Dashrael failed to dry off when he’d emerged from the tide
pool in the center court. His long white hair and clothes dripped
with lake water. Let the chancellor explain when the brownie maids
screamed to the overseer about the mess.
When he reached
the set of ornate black doors, he opened them without knocking and
strode in. Tom, O’runa’s loyal brownie servant, rushed to his
side.
“Lord Dashrael,
may I offer you something to drink? Tea perhaps?”
“No, nothing,
thank you, Tom.”
The brownie
bowed low before him, his curly dark hair nearly skimming the
floor. Then he rose and left the room, shutting the double doors
behind him.
Dashrael
scanned the large drawn room to find O’runa in the far corner
speaking into the enchanted mirror hanging on the wall. As Dashrael
approached, the high fae touched the glamoured surface to end the
call and protect to whom he was speaking. It appeared that the
chancellor didn’t enjoy being summoned either.
O’runa turned
to greet him, a saccharine smile on his thin pale face. “Dashrael,
good of you to come.” He took in the water dripping onto the floor
at Dashrael’s bare feet. “And so quickly.”
“Was there a
choice?” He couldn’t keep the disdain from his voice.
“There’s always
a choice.” The chancellor gestured to the nearby settee. “Please
sit.”
“Are you sure?
I may ruin the fabric.”
“Nonsense.
We’ll have it recovered if it came to that.”
Although
miffed, Dashrael sat. The chancellor settled in on the other side,
prim and proper, careful not to get his tunic too close to the
water stain Dashrael was already making on the silk fabric.
“So why have
you summoned me?”
“I have a
mission for you.” More the chancellor spoke, more that Dashrael
could smell the lavender and herbs he always ingested. He stank
like a flowering plant, and not the delectable ones that Dashrael
often dined on. It was one of the many things about O’runa that
bothered the merman. That and the nasally whine of his cultured
voice. It grated on Dashrael’s scales.
“Yes, that much
I gathered.”
“It is of the
utmost importance and requires discretion and complete
secrecy.”
Despite the
abysmal messenger, Dashrael was intrigued. “I’m listening.”
“No one may
know and you must leave the realm immediately after our
conversation.”
“But my…”
“Immediately.”
He steepled his long bony fingers. “Do you accept these terms?”
“What is my
payment?”
“Ten thousand
gold pieces and the good favour of the overseer himself.”
Dashrael lifted
one white eyebrow. “This is a mission for Lord Wolfstriker?”
O’runa
nodded.
“Then I accept
the terms.”
To be in the
favour of the overseer would be a boon for Dashrael. For a century
he’d been doing the dirty work for the high fae but not once had he
been able to impress the most important fae in Nightfall, Lord
A’ralurn Wolfstriker. Now was his chance to gain some status for
himself and his mate Sunarael. Maybe at the next solstice ball they
would be able to celebrate inside the castle walls instead of at
the town square with all the other commoners of the realm.
The chancellor
grinned. “I’m glad to hear this.” He handed Dashrael a thin,
rectangular, black leather case, no bigger than his palm.
Dashrael opened
it to see a simple mirror inside. But he knew nothing was simple in
Nightfall.
Cat Patrick
Nichelle Rae
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Ali Sparkes
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J. S. Abilene
Natalie J. Damschroder
Anthea Bell
William Sutcliffe