Faerie Hearts by Ron C. Nieto

Author:Ron C. Nieto [Nieto, Ron C.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Ron C. Nieto

Troy emerged from his watery pathways, climbing from a tiny creek that ran too fast to be completely frozen. The moon hung over the horizon, stuck in an awkward phase between crescent and full that could have meant either but embodied none. Below it, the distinct silhouettes of small homes stood out, black against midnight.

The owner of the soft voice that recited verses into the void of night crouched by the same creek he had used to travel. Only a dying hawthorn bush concealed Troy from the speaker, and only partially at that. Still, the speaker was more focused on her own words than on her surroundings, and Troy studied her for a minute through the dry branches.

The mortal appeared to be older than the Herald. The moonlight washed out the color from her skin, hair, and dress, making her drab and insubstantial, but still she was perfect. Troy didn’t care for her looks, although he believed her rather mousy countenance could only improve his scheme—what had brought him here were the echoes of her words, and those words were the most fortuitous he could think of.

Staring into the river, holding a white candle in a plastic cup, she repeated over and over a litany of verses destined to bring her a fay lover.

“Hello, little mortal,” Troy said, stepping around the bush.

The girl—older than the Herald, yes, but so much more clueless even when she wasn’t supposed to be—startled at the sound of his voice. Her eyes, a muddy hazel that couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be green or gold, widened in realization as soon as she saw him, and Troy had to suppress a smirk. He never wore his human form when he hunted, but it seemed as if the part of the mortal brain in charge of recognizing threats and danger had a much easier time recognizing him as a predator when he stood disguised as one of them than it did when he wore his horse shape.

“You’re one of them,” the girl blurted, confirming his theory. Then, “The spell worked!” The squeaky exclamation escaped her and she jumped to her feet with buoyant enthusiasm. “You came . . . And you look as fine as I thought you would!”

The girl studied him from head to toe under the faint moonlight, her gaze riveted to the rivulets of water dripping down his hair, the line of his neck. Troy could feel her eyes on him as solid as a physical caress and his body tensed, ready to take a step back. This never happened when he wore his other shape, either.

“Your ridiculous spell holds no power whatsoever, and it certainly did not command me,” Troy snapped. Then, he caught the brittle edge of his voice and forced his tone to become charming, conspiratorial even. “However, I did hear your plight and deigned to come inquire.”

The girl’s brow furrowed. “Plight? Deign? Inquire?”

Troy thought he heard a peel of laughter traveling through the air, wintry and ancient, and he transformed his sneer into a smile.

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