Sunburnt Country by Nicole R. Taylor

Author:Nicole R. Taylor [Taylor, Nicole R.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Nicole R. Taylor

Finn lingered in the darkness, holding a cloth-wrapped parcel against his chest.

It’d been a few days since he’d ventured towards Solace. After encountering that police officer at Blue’s and spoke to Vera in the outback, he’d decided it was best for him to drown his sorrows in private for once.

Though, much to the camp’s surprise, he’d cast aside his usual go-to—homemade aru’de, a rich fae wine—and picked up some tools and a block of wood instead.

He held the lor’ashlar close, hoping that if Vera ever found it hiding in the outback, she wouldn’t be angry. It was a shrine sacred to his people and offering it to the memory of her coven was the only thing he could think of to mend what was broken.

But why now? He pondered the answer, not knowing why it took all these years to try to mend things with Vera. The only change he could think of was the arrival of one Eloise Hart. Something about the elemental and her powers had stirred his cold Unseelie heart. Either that or it was the increased vibrations from the seal.

Snorting, he looked down at Vera’s ritual site. No matter the reason, he was here and he felt awful.

Like all things witch, fae funerals were deeply rooted in ritual. Bodies were cleansed by fire so they could return to the air. Then the ashes were buried at the base of a lor’ashlar in order to return them to the earth. Once the spirit was free of their mortal bodies, they would climb, gathering the wisdom of their life through the carvings on the lor’ashlar before they stepped through the veil into death itself.

Finn had none of those things to add to his shrine—he knew nothing of Vera’s coven and the things they’d achieved—but he’d done his best.

He knelt at the site of Vera’s ritual and set the shrine down, wiggling it into the rocky sand so it sat straight and true. Then, he pressed his hands against the earth on either side of the lor’ashlar.

“Ashlar an lor, shride lei an val’ash,” he murmured. Honour the dead, for they give us life.

It was a little insulting considering that magic-starved fae had literally sucked the life out of Vera’s coven, but it was the prayer his people recited at funerals, and his people revered the dead. They were sacred.

From the ashes of death, new life was born. Nature was a never-ending cycle.

Finn stood, his head lowered, and listened to the stirring spirits. His heart leapt as he realised something lingered in the shadows behind him. His skin tingled and he spun on his heel.

He came face-to-face with an unknown woman. Blood-red magic bled from her and he felt his own stir in response.

Her hazel eyes flared in the moonlight as her lip curled. “Fae.”

“Witch,” he hissed, looking her over. She was pretty enough, but her unmasked hatred for him soured her otherwise flawless features.

“I didn’t know this hellhole was harbouring fugitives,” she drawled. “I’d ask if Vera knew, but something tells me she already did.

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