Warehouse Treasure Hunting Start With The Crown Of Thorns free download EPUB

In the evenings, around the hearths of home, mothers regale their children with stories of how the world was before the arrival of mankind. Tales of when there was only one Fae Court, when the sky was full of dragons, and when brethren lived free of fear.

Stories of the merfolk walking unafraid on the land, a vast network of Fae and elvish cities on every continent of the world, and sirens in every coastal village.

They speak of when mankind came, weak and lost in our lands, and how the brethren took pity on them, showing them how to live amongst us, welcoming them into our cities and our homes. But mankind was prolific, and although their lives burned through in a fraction of the brethren’s, they swiftly grew in quantity, until they outnumbered us.

In a short time, the brethren were pushed out of the majority of lands, and still that was not enough for mankind who feared and envied us. They began to hunt us down, cutting down our vast forests, and driving many species of brethren into near extinction.

A bitter war arose amongst the Fae, between those that believed there remained goodness in mankind, and those that wished to eradicate them, resulting in a division in our people, and the forming of the Court of Light and the Dark Court.

Now the brethren cling to what they have, maintaining strong rules to prevent further trespass against us, for we have learned that giving any ground to mankind, results in misery.

-

We paused in the roots of a mighty tree, crouching low and close together so that Akyran’s breath stirred my hair. I could feel his body heat and smell the chypre scent of sandalwood and oakmoss from his soap.

The moonlight cut through the leafy canopy, dappling the ground, and bringing the night flowers to bloom. The air was heavy with their decadent perfume. Night-time creatures moved through the undergrowth with caution, aware of the predator in their midst. The fragile light of the nocturnal fairies merged with the glow-bugs that rose from the disturbed foliage.

I heard the rustle in the undergrowth and met Akyran’s eyes, the silvery moonlight stole the blue I knew them to be. He inclined his chin and indicated with his eyebrows that we should edge to the front. We bellied around the base of the roots, the soil moist beneath our hands and the rotting leaf matter clinging to our cloaks.

In the moonlight, the manticore’s barbed tail thrashed as it tore into the flesh of the deer it had felled, the sound of bone cracking beneath the mighty teeth loud and the rip of meat wet. I could smell the blood, as well as the heavy musk of the beast itself, dark and fetid.

Through the foliage, I could see the shift of other Fae hunters, closing in on the beast, their movements disguised by the noise of its feast.

Akyran fisted his spear and raised his eyebrows at me. I raised mine back at him in challenge. He grinned, a quick flash of white teeth, before he launched into his attack. I threw my spear, and saw it embed in the manticore’s neck, deep enough to stick, as Akyran rammed his, with his body weight behind it, into its chest. I heard the wooden handle crack and was not surprised when he danced back with half of the broken shaft in his hands – he has struck the bony chest plate of the creature.

The beast roared, rearing back onto its powerful hind legs, and striking out with its claws.

Akyran ducked its strike, using the broken shaft to ward it off.

I registered the yells and movements of the other hunters, and saw arrows strike the beast.

“Don’t tear the hide! Aim for the chest and neck.” Akyran protested.

In the flurry of arrows, the manticore did not know where to strike, and then it focused on Akyran again as he reached for the broken shaft of the spear. I ran in, seizing my spear and pulling it free, distracting the snapping jaws inches from Akyran’s head.

The manticore screamed and redirected its attack to me as the spear ripped free of its flesh. Blood sprayed in spurting crimson across the composting leaf matter. My initial throw had hit the jugular, but the spear’s lodgement had prevented the blood loss. Akyran saw the spray of blood and he met my eyes again as we danced back out of the reach of the beast.

“Good shot,” he yelled to me. “Kill shot.”

The manticore shook its mane in confusion. It was feeling its death approaching, but it flailed out as the hunters continued to hound it, fighting to the very end. I drew my needlepoint dagger, and leapt onto its back, driving my blade into the spear wound, widening the spray of blood, and rolled free as it sighed out its final breath and sank onto its kill.

“Well done,” Akyran panted as he offered me his hand and lifted me to standing. “The kill goes to Ecaeris,” he told the other hunters.

They clasped my shoulder and congratulated me.

Akyran and I sat on a root to catch our breath. He removed a boot to shake free some annoyance.

“I have to go to the Court of Light tomorrow,” he told me casually as he pulled his boot back on.

I took the flask from my hip and lifted it to my lips, taking no more than a sip of the alcohol within, to chase the chill of the night from my bones. The burn was strong, and I grimaced, breathing through my teeth.

He took it from me as I lowered it and took a larger swig, hissing against the bite of the spirit. “My parents are actually thinking of intervening in this bloody war, and I need to talk some sense into my father.”

“Will you be gone long?”

“As long as it takes,” he looked over to where the hunters and servants butchered the manticore, his strong profile lit by the moonlight.