A Feytal Encounter

Chapter 10

Adanma's grip was painful around Bronwyn's wrist as she dragged them back to the cage. It took Bronwyn into the night to go back over the pumpkins, with Adanma losing her temper every half hour. It was more terrifying than assault training.

Bronwyn could make out Andrea's pale form already asleep on the floor of the cage. Most Fey were already asleep too, only a few wandered around the ground, finishing up chores. There was a glint of eyes from the night watchguards in the trees. Everything was silent except for their own footsteps. Elton was leaning against the bottom of a tree and called out,

"Oh good, I thought maybe you'd turned into a wolf and fucked off."

Adanma whipped a knife out from somewhere on her person and it whistled through the air, sticking in the tree just by Elton's ear.

"Woooow," he mocked, pulling it out. "You can't hurt me, you can't even hurt your worst enemy. The one that massacred your people. How could you lead us to victory?"

Adanma growled, but it sounded far too low. It surrounded the clearing, causing the other Fey to look up. Her eyes widened and she held a hand to her throat, looking distrustingly at Bronwyn. "Shut up."

Bronwyn opened their mouth to protest that it hadn't been them, but the growl came again. It was a circle of sound, closing in on itself. Everyone realized what it was at once. The Fey camp burst into activity and sound. Elton and a few other Fey shouted and started ringing alarm bells attached to the trees. The sleeping village awoke with more cries and screams. The branches of the trees shook, rations and belongings fell to the ground. Bronwyn saw Mae slip off a branch and Yosef pull her back up with panic in his eyes. The underbrush around the camp was blurry with movement and teeth. Fey children climbed higher in the trees and began jumping from limb to limb to escape. One child, maybe four or five, fell out of the leaves. Their brown body made a muffled thump when they hit the ground and their black hair was lost under all the moving feet and paws. Nobody stopped to help it. There was nothing they could do. Bronwyn felt bile rise in their throat.

Adanma snapped them back to attention by roughly shoving them through the bushes. She dragged them a few feet away from the screams and howls in the camp before they were stopped by a towering, grey wolf. Bronwyn broke free from Adanma's grasp and stumbled forward.

"Messurs! How did you–" they were cut off by Messurs opening his jaws, eyes on Adanma. She had a knife in each hand and sparks flew from her eyes. Messurs lunged at her, then fell backwards, howling. Cahira was hanging onto his face with her claws. He shook her off, but one of his eyes was bleeding. Adanma wasted no time in running past with Cahira. She spared a single glance over her shoulder to see if Messurs was following. He wasn't, he had turned back to the camp and trampled over a Fey, lashing out wherever he could. Bronwyn watched Adanma flee, knowing she could never outrun the pack. They turned, intending to join their people and go home, but the sight of Fey being torn limb from limb stopped them. This is what they had trained for their whole life. This is what was supposed to be right.

But they knew these Fey, they'd eaten their food, mended their homes. That was Luna, crumpled at the base of a tree. She had a limp and loved to weave. That was Jakobet, he was still a child, recently thrilled with his first solo hunting mission. Blood pooled around his body. This is what Bronwyn was supposed to do, what they were supposed to revel in.

They turned and ran after Adanma.