Page 13 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

“You were born as the fifth Nicnevin. No one makes you anything,” I correct, gently. “But I can tell you some things, I suppose.” Where do I start…? “The land is split into five sections. Four courts, and Elfhame, where your palace is.”

And the Fomorian mountains, which are beyond the Endless Sea, but I’m hardly going to bring them up now. She’s already scared, and I selfishly don’t want her to be terrified of her home.

She nods along. “You’re a knight of Elfhame because you’re sworn to protect me?”

“I’m a knight of Elfhame because I trained for years and served in many battles to earn the position,” I correct, trying not to puff up with pride and failing miserably. “I was a knight before you were born. I became a Guard when your magic summoned me and I chose to swear the oath, but that’s something better explained by your high priestess.”

I know the very basics, but I never expected it to happen to me, so I never looked into it. I suppose some things must be general knowledge, but—much to my mother’s chagrin—I’ve never been one for books and studying.

“Okay, so I have four courts?”

I move my jaw from side to side as I consider how to answer that one. “Yes… and no. Faerie was originally one court. During the war of seasons, the four male sons of the first Nicnevin tried to take power. It was a bloody war, but eventually, they signed a treaty which allowed each of the brothers a portion of the land to rule over, as long as they accepted their sister, the second Nicnevin, as High Queen. They agreed and proceeded to style themselves as kings. So you do own the courts, but the minor royals rule them on your behalf.”

I don’t add that most of the minor royals are dicks. Unfortunately, she’ll probably find that out for herself soon enough.

We turn the corner, and the gate at the end of the ditch comes into view. It looks much the same as it did all those years ago.

Portals can take many different forms. Everything from a patch of dead grass to a strangely shaped crack in a wall. This one is a simple wrought metal gate in the middle of the forest dyke. The scent of portal magic is distinctive, like lemons and fresh snow, and it surrounds us as we approach.

My bag is still waiting to one side where I stashed it yesterday. It’s not large. Most of my possessions are still in the barracks at Elfhame—if they didn’t throw them away when I disappeared.

After all, answering the Call and spending a quarter of a century in the mortal realm was not something I’d planned for.

One second I was fighting Fomorians on the battlefield, the next I was in the Goddess’s sacred cave, staring at the newborn in Nicnevin Diana’s arms with the others. My life was turned upside down so fast I didn’t even have time to return to Faerie and tell my commander what had happened.

Familiar guilt for abandoning my post, and my family, hits me hard as I lead Rose over to my bag and start rummaging, searching for some spare clothes.

When I start stripping her father’s shirt off, she gasps and whirls around. Shit. Shifters—and most fae—aren’t bothered by nudity. Fighting and fucking are our kind’s lifeblood. Being around humans has taught Rose to fear both.

“Apologies, my lady. I lost my clothes when I shifted back, and the ones I’ve borrowed are…” Itchy. Mortal. Tight. “Fae aren’t generally as prudish as humans.”

“No, carry on,” she squeaks. “It’s fine.”

I try not to smile, I really do, but she’s adorable.

There are a few seconds where she doesn’t ask any questions, but then, inevitably, her curiosity gets the best of her.

“What’s shifting?”

I pause with my borrowed trousers half-way down my legs. My wolf charges forward in my mind, and I grimace.

It might be better to let him meet her now, rather than making him frustrated and unpredictable. But if she runs, or screams…

“I’ll show you, but you have to remain calm,” I warn, shucking off the last of my clothes.

I close my eyes, and open them again as a wolf, shaking my fur out after the change. Like this, I can hear her shallow little breaths and scent her curiosity even though her back is still to me.

I pad closer and press my head into her empty hand.

She gasps, looking down with wide eyes and snatching her hand back lightning fast. My wolf tracks the movement, but doesn’t leap after her. Maybe he can sense my own tension and has decided to be on his best behaviour.

Careful, don’t scare her. I warn my other half.

He just scoffs at me as our Nicnevin backs away, searching for our human form. Eventually, she understands.

“Jaro?” she hisses.

My wolf gives a happy little yip of affirmation and rolls over onto his back, neck exposed, happily submitting.

---