Marva guarded her eyes against the wind. A time or two, it nearly picked her up but Sorem caught her and anchored her to him, screaming against the storm, “We should turn back!”

But they couldn’t. They absolutely couldn’t.

Horses and wagon long unhitched and abandoned, they pushed against the wind and carried on.

Instead of informing him that they were nearly there, she gripped his hand and kept moving. A vortex surrounded the little village, by nightfall, nothing would be allowed in or out.

High above, the dragons carried on, flying in a faster circle.

The wind was dangerously high here and the tension in Sorem’s grip spoke of reluctance but there simply was nothing more.

“We must do this,” she whispered to herself then screamed it again aloud.

“Marva, we don’t have to. I’m resigned to my fate. I’ve made peace with it.”

She still hadn’t. At first, she couldn’t say why, but the moment she understood her feelings, the fruitless quests for the Fairy King had intensified.

Nothing. Nothing and no one. But things were different now.

She dragged Sorem into a kiss, bit his lip and raced toward the hurricane.

Sorem’s hold on her hand held true. Upon meeting the powerful wind, however, he slipped from her grip.

Marva fell through the vortex, feeling weak and foolish.

She landed.

On her hands and knees, she stared at the calm grass on this side of the magic.

“Idiot.”

He’d let go.

Whether she cursed Sorem or herself, she was still unsure.

A hand on her back drew her focus and she looked up to the help offered to her.

She gripped the outstretched hand and leapt up into Sorem’s arms. “You’d let go.”

“To make it easier for you to move.” He held her close as he scanned the sparse little huts and focused on the one in the very center. Someone broke through the vortex and spilled into the clearing, much like they had.

“The hunchback.” Sorem paused and cleared his throat. “I will stop calling that.”

“His name is Wyrn.” Marva interlocked their fingers and dragged Sorem along. “And we must engage him quickly.”

They rushed toward Wyrn but he, gripping something in his arm, rushed toward the hut.

Marva met him first then dragged Sorem to stand beside her.

“Greetings, Jaffo.” Her voice broke.

Wyrn recoiled. “How did you get in here?”

His confusion was well warranted. Dragon magic was unparalleled. There was one catch, however.

“Dragons allow all bargains access to their magic. Should our business be at an end, we will be cast out. Rest assured.”

Sorem took great interest in whatever Wyrn carried. “What is that? It feels warm.”

Marva tugged him, praying he stay focused.

“Griffin feathers,” Wyrn said, opening the wrappings finally, “to keep my wife warm. Please leave.”

Something spiraled from the sky and landed as a man. When he stood, he asked, “Jaffo, are you well?”

Wyrn called out to him, “Please get them out of here.”

“We’re not leaving,” Sorem said, catching everyone by surprise, perhaps even himself. The awkward head gesture he made toward Wyrn was for Marva’s benefit—he was saying he trusted her.

Marva summoned her courage, praying she was right. “We’ve come to challenge you, Jaffo. Now. Right now.”

“What?” Wyrn took a step back, looking between the two of them. “Let it wait a day—”

“No. At this very minute.” At the silence, Marva looked back at the dragon and demanded, “Instruct him that he must answer the challenge or forfeit his claim on this man’s life.”

The man in the distance hesitated but closed in. “She’s right. A challenge can be brought at any time, Jaffo. But only once.”

Wyrn’s eyes settled on Marva and only her. He understood her ploy and the anger in his gaze drove her to hang her head.

“Is this worth all you risk?” Wyrn asked.

In truth, Marva did not know. This much magic would do many things—one of which was restoring her fairy powers. That meant completing her mission then returning home with no visible tattoo. And she wasn’t all that sure the child should be returned considering why it was created.

“Take up the challenge,” Marva demanded though her voice hardly amounted to more than a plea.

Disgusted, Wyrn looked between her and Sorem.

He finally said, “My wife has confessed that you did not shoot her. But you cannot dispute you are the reason she was shot.”

Shamefaced, Sorem nodded.

“The land I will keep,” Wyrn continued, “and those consequences will fall on you.” After a long pause, he looked down at what he carried then gave in. “But I’ll release all claims on your life.”

Sorem’s grip loosened and Marva let go as well, holding her knees as a cool rush of relief washed over her.

When she finally picked up her head, she caught sight of the wrappings of feathers again but…the disguise dulled.

The child. “Jaffo,” she said with a slow exhale as their eyes met, “Whoever’s advised you to tap into this power is misleading you. The magus’s child was created with one purpose in mind—destruction.”

He gave no heed to her words and said, “Our business is at an end.”

“I cannot allow—”

“Dragon,” Wyrn called, “show them out.”

A bright light blinded them and once Marva lowered her arms from guarding her view, she spun around in all directions before focusing on the storm in the distance.

With a heavy heart, she darted for it. Something caught her.

Sorem regained his balance when he appeared. He then held her with both hands. “Wait.”

“You don’t understand,” Marva insisted. “I must retrieve that child.”

Sorem stared her down. His look of woe held longing. “First, explain to me what happened? Why did he give up? Have you done something—something you can’t undo? Something dangerous for you?”

Though still anxious, Marva opened her mouth to dismiss his worry but the words caught in the back of her throat. If his fear for her now was anything like her fear for him mere minutes ago, she needed to assure him.

All she could muster was a kiss.

He still held her, however. “If you leave, you won’t return, will you?”

They both knew the answer.

Her eyes drifted down to where he gripped her, then to the ground. “Fate leads us in all sorts of directions. But I cannot leave my charge now that I’ve seen the location. You may not know it, but I’d come to this village often expecting to feel some sensation leading me to my goal.”

Sorem’s lips parted. “And you’ve never told me?”

Because the moment she found what she’d been sent to retrieve, she’d have to return and a goodbye was beyond her.

They both looked down to where their hands met.

“A fairy and a human. It is a hopeless endeavor.”

Of that, she was no longer convinced.

“Then let me be a fairy,” he said, “and I will come with you.”

Marva was touched, but that was selfish. Sorem was no knight in shining armor; he was a scholar. In fact, his reputation proceeded him. He knew old laws, and he learned fast. With that knowledge, he quelled all disputes.

He’d traveled around looking for a place to belong and had finally found it.

“I must retrieve my charge in earnest, Prince Sorem. I am sorry.”

Sorem tightened his hold. “I’ve failed in my quest and you’ve vailed in yours, but is that really so awful if it will keep us together?”

Eyes on his chest, she searched for the right words.

A kiss landed on her lips. It was a small action and gentle in every way. And it came with him letting her go.

“I’ll wait for you this time, too,” he told her.

Letting out a scoff, she shook her head. ‘Fool.” She set off toward the storm, a tingling in her back.

Everything in her wanted to turn and run back to him but she couldn’t.

With one jump, she took flight and the clothes fell away. Heavy winds shoved her side to side. As much force as she’d needed to take flight, the same—more so—threatened to ground her yet again.

Everything in this journey was difficult. Her body screamed from the fatigue but her people needed her. This wasn’t about what she’d discovered on this journey. It wasn’t about Sorem who’d changed her very way of thinking. It wasn’t even about Matax who she refused to fail to.

The higher she rose, the more lost she felt. Perhaps as punishment, she’d spend the rest of her days under the earth, digging out the rabbits and vermin, longing for a faux prince she’d never again see.

Bitter tears filled her eyes but she forced herself not to look back. There was no going back, not after she saw the baby.

Sorem had been right, if she hadn’t come, she would never have lain eyes on it. But then he would have died instead.

The magic raged on, pushing her back but dragon magic allowed bargains and she had reason to be here now.

Once she broke through, she shot toward the hut, in no need of an invitation.

A baby’s cry greeted her at the window.

She jumped down and approached the couple on the ground, aided by a midwife. They were human and she needed them to see her so she risked tucking her wings again and landed fully grown once more.

“Pardon the intrusion,” Marva said at length.

Matax looked up at her then down at Jeze.

Lips parted, Marva stepped back. “Madness. This is a trick.”

“Oh?” He nodded forward, “Tell that to the cord still attached to her. Blasted unicorn,” he grumbled.

Breathing heavily, Marva clutched her fists. “No. No. This is too convenient. Where are they?”

“Who?” Matax mocked. “The damn hunchback and his wife? Even I don’t know.”

Marva’s world reeled. She cast her wings wide, returned to fairy form and tucked her legs below her while closing her eyes. Her mind’s eye opened but she could perceive nothing beyond the hut. The faded image of the hunchback carrying the magus’s child burst in and rushed to Matax.

Relinquish all claim from it!

Matax, staring down at Jeze in horror as she wailed in childbirth, looked up at Wyrn, disgusted. Relinquish? Gladly! I’d be too happy to relinquish this one she’s about to have, too.

When Wyrn turned to leave, Matax caught his arm. Their eyes met and he sounded gentle despite Jeze’s anguished cries. Think of what you’re doing, what you risk. The dragons aren’t here to sing your praises. They are here to lock it in mortal form. But should it get loose, that is your doing, not mine. And it will be the Fairy King’s job to kill it.

Good! Wyrn turned and stomped out. Then take it up with him.

And then he was gone. Marva replayed that scene again and again, looking for clues but came to one conclusion—this was a message left behind for her.

This was her out. The hunchback intended to keep the magus’s child. It made sense that a being of magic like Wyrn—whatever he was, now holding a far superior being’s land and treasure illegally would want to harness and control a weapon strong enough to kill such a foe. His fear of retribution from the Fairy King was fueling his irrational behavior. That meant he now knew what the child was and how to use it. And she wasn’t about to let him.

By morning the storm cleared and there was no sign of them, not until a week later.

In that time, Marva never returned to her human form and she never went back to Sorem, instead, she waited in that village for the hunchback’s eventual return.

And it came. A donkey drawn wagon rolled into town, garnering excitement and praise.

Marva landed before it, human to make certain she could be seen.

“I’m through playing games.”

Wyrn propped his elbows on his knees and glanced back once to his wife who carried two bundles.

“I won’t deny it,” he said, turning to face Marva once again. “I have what you seek.”

Marva looked past him to Vadde’s glare of defiance then to Wyrn again.

“Let me ask you,” Wyrn said, “how long does this child have to live upon returning with you?”

The question filled Marva with shame. “However the magus uses magic is not for us to decide. I was given a task.”

Her answer satisfied him. “I cannot dispute your claim,” he admitted.

But there was a bigger problem. Marva looked him in the eye and asked, “Which child is yours?”

After a long pause, he shook his head. “I do not know.”

“What?”

“Only The Living Goddess knows as she copied them to be identical. And I don’t want to know.”

A pit formed in Marva’s stomach. She’d underestimated the hunchback. As soon as she heard a unicorn could not stand a woman already with child, she’d been certain Vadde was giving birth or about to and no proper husband would risk bringing death before his child’s birth. Never had Marva imagined they were having it now and would somehow mix up the children—and with intent.

“Go back, night Fae,” Wyrn entreated. He talked as if providing her rescue. “Go back to Wisen and your foolish prince. Leave this child to live and you live as well.”

“You don’t understand,” Marva whispered. “Without the magus’s weapon, we cannot escape the realm.”

After a long pause, Wyrn admitted. “The Jaffo were the ones to guard the lock to the Fairy King’s army. Today, after accepting this child…I broke the seal.”

Marva’s stomach dropped. “What?”

“This storm was to bring them back.” He nodded behind him. “They’re in the forest. You’re welcome to join them. And not just night Fae but all fairies have been released. But neither them nor you can dare claim what I claim. And I have a feeling, now that the magus is free, he doesn’t care a lick for the magic he harnessed and stored in this living vessel.”

As she stood there, speechless and naked, he flicked the reigns and pulled the wagon around her. The crowd in the distance waited with eager smiles but for Marva, her eyes traveled to the forest.

One thought occurred and she allowed her gaze to slide down her arm to the pale golden scar that encompassed her entire wrist. Everyone was free—the night Fae were back. Like her, they’d need time to learn to fly, time to regain their memories, time to seek her out and enact punishment for not only her failings but her shameful marking…time to take her away from the prince.

Sorem’s face came to her now and then and she looked to the forest. Her people were free. She should greet them. They would need guidance to return to this realm comfortably. She should take whatever punishment they doled out, and relegate herself to once again serving the magus.

Imaginings of the life she’d led under his rule forced her to form but one conclusion and she’d need the speed of flight for it, so she released her wings, jumped into the sky and flew back to Sorem.

‎