Page 146 of Beyond the Faerie Gate

Drystan’s whip extinguishes as soon as he sees her. I feel his silent warning to remain put as he dismounts and approaches her. The dryad’s whispering becomes more fervent the closer he comes until it’s almost a scream.

But the Lord of the Wild Hunt doesn’t grab her. He doesn’t demand her compliance, simply offers his hand and says something that’s too quiet for me to hear.

When she doesn’t respond, he keeps talking, lowering himself to his haunches as he does so, making himself less of a threat, just like the barghests on either side of him.

Slowly, ever so slowly, her frantic murmuring stops. She raises her head to look at Drystan, then over his head at me.

“Danu.”

The wealth of relief in the word is like nothing I’ve ever heard, and she keeps her sap-coloured eyes on mine as she slowly reaches out and accepts Drystan’s hand.

Does she… She can’t have mistaken me for the Goddess, can she?

Only… it wouldn’t be a mistake, would it? Kitarni said I’m the Goddess Incarnate.

Instead of handing her over to the barghests, Drystan shocks both of us by bringing her to me.

Releasing the saddle, I reach out to her, trying my best to paste a reassuring smile on my face, despite the fact that this is as new to me as it must be for her.

The dryad gasps and clasps my hand in both of hers, bringing it to her forehead as she dissolves once more into whispered prayers.

When she releases me, she looks gratefully between the two of us before stepping over to the barghests, who nudge gently at her legs, guiding her quietly up into the night sky.

With a start, I realise that my cheeks are wet.

Drystan doesn’t say anything or acknowledge what just happened as he swings back up behind me. He spurs Blizzard on, and we take off through the streets of Calimnel, searching for the next.

Six more spirits pass in much the same way, and by then, I’m becoming used to the two categories that they seem to fall into.

The weepers, who need comfort and reassurance, and the runners, who’ve tried to outrun the barghests only to have been caught out. The weepers generally seem to take Drystan more time, but the runners are more dangerous, because many of them attack when cornered.

He shows the former compassion, and the latter, none.

But the last spirit in Calimnel is different.

The high fae isn’t weeping or running. Instead, he’s sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the palace doors, petting the barghests and valravne that have approached him like old pets.

Instead of drawing his whip, or dismounting to speak to this spirit, Drystan whistles sharply, and the beasts slink away, back into the sky.

I expect the spirit to follow. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he exchanges a long look with Drystan before he stands, touches a dark strip around his neck like some kind of salute, and walks back into the palace, as if he never left.

“Doesn’t he have to come with us?” I ask quietly.

“Archie will come when he’s ready,” Drystan replies, evenly. “He has… things to do first. So, we’ve come to an agreement.”

The familiarity shocks me, but his tone, as usual, brokers no questioning.

Who this ‘Archie’ is, and why he alone is permitted not to join the hunt, haunts me as we finally rejoin the group in the sky and set off in pursuit of the giant birds once more.

“Will we be done by morning?” I ask, concerned, after we rise up from the third village. “The world is so vast. Surely there’s no way to be done so quickly.”

Drystan snorts. “The moment we left the Sanctuary, we stepped out of sync with time. When we return to Elfhame, less than a handful of hours will have passed since we left, no matter how long we hunt for.”

He talks so calmly, as though magic messing with time is some tiny detail, barely worth a second thought. I wish I could be as unaffected. My mind feels like it’s breaking at the impossibility of it all.

“The hunt takes as long as it takes, and for us, Samhain night will last as long as the hunt does. Now, are you finished? We’re going to be tired at the end of this as it is without your endless questions.” He spurs Blizzard into a faster pace.

As if he can’t wait for it to be over so he can be rid of me.

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