A Kingdom of Exiles (Outcast)

“How could I not?” I mumbled through a mouthful.

John flashed me a quick wink. “Viola, d’you want to give it to her now?” he asked, turning to his wife. “Or should I?”

My attention piqued. I set the muffin aside and took a sip of tea to wash it down before asking, “Give me what?”

Viola’s blue eyes sparkled. Bustling over to the mantelpiece, she picked up a small silver box and placed it in front of me with a faint smile.

My brow wrinkled. “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything. I don’t want you spending your money.”

“I didn’t,” Viola breathed. “It’s an heirloom of your mother’s family. She gifted it in her will with instructions to pass it on to you—when the time was right.”

My frown deepened. As far as I knew, my mother had no other family. “Why didn’t she leave it to my father?”

Viola’s expression flickered. “We don’t know, darling.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you pass it on when I came of age?”

Sixteen marked the rite of passage into adulthood. Not eighteen.

“I wanted to; I knew how much it’d mean to you,” Viola said, an apology welling behind her eyes. “But your mother never specified the age I was to give it to you. And I thought Elain might steal it once she discovered where it had come from.”

I blinked. Viola knew exactly how cruel my stepmother could be.

“Then, you should keep it.” I pushed the box back across the table. Each word quieter than the last, I added, “Until I’m free of her—if I ever am.”

I gulped down the raw emotion clawing at my throat and stared at the table, unable to meet their stares. The only way to be free was to marry, and since the village boys had largely shunned me, it seemed like a remote possibility.

Viola sat and cupped my chin; my eyes had nowhere to go but to meet with hers. I knew that look—pity. “Open your present, Serena.”

John took the seat to my left and when I didn’t move, he pushed the box under my nose. His mouth tugged upward. “Choppers, choppers,” he urged. “I’ve got a bakery to run.”

A tremor claimed my hand as I reached out and unhinged the clasp. Inside was a delicate silver chain joined by sculpted leaves and flowers with a pale blue gem dangling from the center link, and when I held it up to the light, something moved within. A droplet.

“There’s water inside this gemstone.” My hands lowered as I asked Viola, “Do you know why it’s there?”

Viola smiled weakly. “No. The only instructions left in your mother’s will were that the necklace must go to you and that it’d protect you in times of great danger.”

“Danger,” I echoed and put the chain back in the box, suddenly wary. “Is this about those kids who’ve gone missing? Is that why you’re handing it over now?”

Everyone in the village had heard about the disappearances. They’d started over three months ago with twelve-year-old Annie Tanner, and every month since then a child had just up and vanished.

“Those kids were all younger than me. They weren’t even of age—”

Viola exchanged a furtive look with John. She was scared. They both were. “We know,” she said heavily. “But to the fae, you are still a child. I don’t know what age those immortal fiends mark the end of childhood, but it won’t be eighteen.”

All of Tunnock’s inhabitants knew the fae were taking them. The tales the village bard had spun were clear—long ago we’d welcomed the fae into our lands and paid the price. After years of peace, they’d turned on us and thrown collars around our necks. In a desperate move, the royal line of Undover ordered our High Priests to call down the gods and throw a lock on the bridge between our realms, exiling the fae to the lands in the north. In the fae’s absence, the southern lands grew fat and rich. That was until the Undover line fell into ruin as son murdered father and brother slaughtered brother to seize the crown. The High Priests used the corruption as an excuse to steal away to their towers among the stars, banning all others from practicing magic and taking their knowledge with them. For centuries, remote villages like ours had been left defenseless. Yet we’d endured, scratching out a living from the earth, forever in the shadow of the monsters across the bridge. Now, every person living above the Estari Lake had heard the rumors—the fae had returned. Rumors of sightings and disappearances stretched back ten years. Until now, our village had remained unscathed, but no longer …

Viola continued. “I don’t know how a necklace is meant to help, but I’ll feel better with you wearing it.”

I closed the box. Thinking of my stepmother, I shook my head lightly. “She’ll notice if I wear something like this.” I faced Viola to see her sad eyes fixed on me. “I’ll have to find somewhere to hide it before I can take it home with me.”

She wavered, then nodded once. “Even with the necklace, I doubt you’d be safe until those ruthless sprites are driven from our lands—your father knows it too. That’s why he’s signed up to be part of the watch tonight, along with John,” she said, disapproval marking her face.

I stilled. The watch had been reinstated by the elders the minute Annie vanished. But with wild animals roaming the forest, not to mention the risk involved in meeting an actual fae, it wasn’t surprising that few villagers wanted the job. So far, my father and John hadn’t served because their work sucked up every spare minute. No one had complained since the village couldn’t afford to lose a blacksmith or a baker.

“Ach!” John scowled and waved her concern away. “Don’t scold me, Vi. I’m not a child. This is important. We can’t let the fae bastards take our children—our future.”

“They’re not our children, John.” Viola had steel in her voice, but I detected the quiet sadness underneath.

“No lass, they’re not ours,” John said gruffly. “But Serena is as good as.”

I glowed at that remark.

Viola’s anger seemed to vanish with a sigh. “I know … I’m just worried.”

I looked to John. “D’you think you’ll be in danger tonight?”

“I might’ve handled more bread than weapons, but I can look after myself. So can your father. He’s as strong as a bull, that one.” He braced his hands on the table and stretched up. “Besides, it’s two weeks until the full moon, and that’s when the fae have been most active. We’re not expecting trouble tonight.”

He gave me a pat on the back before moving to give his wife a swift kiss on the cheek. “Got to get back to work, but I don’t want either of my girls worrying.”

A warning and a plea.

Viola mumbled something noncommittal. I opened my mouth and then closed it. I wanted to beg him not to go, but it wasn’t my place so I said nothing as he walked back into the bakery. No matter the reassurances he’d given, a rising panic turned my mouth dry and set my heart moving apace. Against fae warriors, they’d be helpless.



John’s revelation put a serious dampener on my birthday tea. I spent most of the time afterward watching the clock and pretending to read books while Viola bustled around. I waited until Father would’ve dismissed Gus for the afternoon and then struck out for his forge determined to make him reconsider signing up.

Due to his obligation to the watch he had to finish early, so I kept up a steady stream of desperate pleas the entire walk home. I didn’t let up all through dinner, thanks to Elain’s unusual silence.

“Why now? You said there’ll be more of you going tomorrow—can’t you go then? The watch can wait for one night. It’s my birthday …”

“I won’t say no again, Ena.” My mother’s nickname for me, and a punch to the stomach every time I heard it. “I’ll be fine,” he said, his face softening at my fear. “By the smith’s fire, even Gus has volunteered for tonight’s watch. I can’t let him wander the woods alone.”

S.B. Nova's books