Thousands of years before Feyre Cursebreaker was so much as a whisper of thought on the breeze, there was another girl in another forest - Carbhan, a half fae girl eking out a living in the largest and most vicious court in Prythian, the Dusk Court...
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It sailed through the air like it had desire of its own, like it too wanted nothing more than to bury itself fletching-deep in the courtier's heart.
I already felt the vicious thrill of victory tugging at my heart, when, at the last conceivable second, the male somehow managed to sense the threat and twist to the side. My arrow missed by less than a finger's width, the deadly length of ash going through his lung instead of his heart. Cauldron damn him, I thought furiously. I was unlikely to have another chance at his life, not if I wanted my triur to escape.
The other courtiers seemed frozen in surprise that one of their own could be attacked. I smiled with twisted satisfaction that even if I hadn't killed the man, at least I could leave a lasting memory—even the highest of the High Fae aren't truly immortal.
Samyani and Nareena, however, didn't hesitate. The second their tormentor went down, they were gone, blurs of black hair running as fast as they could to the east - the section of forest I'd already patrolled and deemed safe. Next, they would slow down and move more carefully, to avoid leaving any trackable trace as they made their way back to report.
Their escape seemed to snap the High Fae out of their daze. Three leapt from their horses to grab the male I'd shot from where he half lay on his side, staining the snow red. As soon as they touched him, he howled in agony—and fury. He cursed them, the cauldron, the arrow, and ash trees all across Prythian. The male had a truly remarkable imagination for curses. If some of them weren't directed at whoever shot the arrow—me—I would have been quite impressed. He was lifted, thrashing and cursing, onto his horse, which was guided toward the back of the group by the same three faeries.
The rest of the group started forward, kicking horses and whipping reins. Some pulled their beautiful bows from their backs, that icy excitement of a hunt bringing the uncivilized inner beast that resides in every faerie closer to the surface. Before they made it half way across the clearing, I dropped.
I switched out my recurve for my bo as I fell through the air, so when I hit the ground with a muffled thud that vibrated my legs, I stood with the long, heavy staff, carved of lignum vitae, held at an angle in front of me. Their horses reared to a stop at the sudden obstacle.
I stood, feet a shoulder's width apart, stance loose, hands wrapped tightly around the wood as I spun it with the sort of flourish that was completely useless and unnecessary, but I knew would catch the attention of these entertainment loving faeries. They all watched, nearly a dozen eyes glued to the rapid twist of my staff with a sort of baffled fascination. Clearly, they couldn't understand what exactly was happening, or why anyone would be stupid enough to jump into their exalted path, and with a weapon, no less. I stopped the wood aimed outward, toward the group. "I'm afraid ," I said with feigned confidence, projecting my voice across the clearing, "That this path is closed to you." Another twirl of my bo. "Please choose another route to continue your hunt." I slammed the end of the bo into the ground to emphasize my point.
