Dad and I trot side by side-by-side through the wyldwood, the gnarled trees reaching out their skeletal hands to us. Orin's light, bumbling gait sways me in the saddle. the cold wind rushing in my face, the thumping sound of the horses' hooves and the calls of the night animals, all mount up to the irreplaceable rush of running on a hunt.
"So where are we off?" I ask, tying my blue velvet cloak around my shoulders.
"Well what's close?"
"Perilyn Falls, that place is swarming. Keirran and I always go there." I let slip.
The reaction on my father is instantaneous. Every muscle in his body stiffens and clenches, his eyes go as deep as wells. My father was perpetually paranoid about wyverns and their base nest was at the Falls. I had been forbidden not to go there but Keirran was the decision-maker for our hunts.
"What have I told you about that place, Skylar?" he said slowly, his voice deadly sharp.
"I'm sorry."
"Don't you dare. Don't you dare go to that place again, do you hear me?" the consort hisses, gripping the reins of his mount tightly.
All the other times, it seemed like just a little warning. The kind of one that you can break and you're forgiven afterwards, no harm done; this was different. My father meant business.
"I promise."
I can feel his eyes on me. Although I had a little human blood, I was a fey and the rules applied. I could not promise and break it. He reached out and put his hand on my shoulder. Ash was a good father in everything except close contact. It seemed to make him uncomfortable if he consciously thought about it but every so often, I'd get a spontaneous hug or touch. My mother was far better in this aspect but she was not nearly so companionable.
"So what else is around?" he sighs, putting his hands back on the reins.
"If we are where I think we are, the ruins of Tanifier are close."
"Ruins? Tanifier is not a ruin, it's still standing. I used to crash there with Robin if we didn't have time to travel back."
"It was still standing a few hundred years ago." I snorted. "The place is mostly rubble except the main hall. Me, Keirran and Puck were there a month or two ago."
"What had it down?"
"Goblins."
"Damn things. Maybe there will be some to pick off." Dad cursed, eyes gleaming.
"Lets hope so." I reply, grinning wildly.
We veer down a less-trodden side trail into denser undergrowth. Giving me an inviting look, my father digs his spurs into his horse and lunges off down the path. My competitive streak burns through me and I fly after him. I urge my horse into a breakneck-fast gallop. Orin and I breeze past, weaving through the trees. The harsh pound of hooves on dirt makes my ears ring as the trees of the wyldwood blur past. We gallop towards our destination. After nearly three hours more riding, we reach the legendary, old castle.
Tanifier Castle was built by a wild fey named Lord Shazadan. He lived at the very beginning of the Nevernever and fey itself. This was a time so early on that Summer and Winter were not rivals. Both courts mingled with ease. Shazadan led a band of fey who didn't fit in at their courts. The self-proclaimed lord built Tanifier as a safe haven for his people. It had been one of the biggest, grandest castle in the wyldwood. After Shazadan and his people died out, the castle was left to ruin. The odd tribe of goblins sometimes settled in the castle but never for more than a decade. Now, all that remained of the once magnificent structure was moss-covered columns, piles of bricks and the odd piece of a mosaic floor.
My father and I dismount and stand side-by-side. There was some underlying power between him and me that allowed for a telekinetic bond. We could see and feel things that we sourced. Now, I felt sadness, pity and a sense of horrible loss were among his emotions. Images flashed through my mind. My father, Puck and Ariella Tularyn sat around a fire in front of this very castle, laughing and joking, Dad and Puck duelling in a lavishly furnished bed chamber, the trio fighting goblins in the great hall, Ariella threading her hair with flowers from the nearby meadows.
"Fun times?"
"You saw that?" he asks, keeping a hand on the hilt of his sword.
"Yes." I pause.
"It was a long time ago." the prince shook his head. "Anything around?"
"Nothing yet." I say, tying the horses up on a rotting fence post and unsaddling them. "Let's ready up in the Hall, then we'll get down to business."
"Sounds like a plan." he agrees as I sling him his saddle. We enter the Hall, the only part of the old castle still standing. I put my saddle and look around, my eyes slowly adjusting to the dark. "Sky, we used to keep a store of firewood in here somewhere."
"Well, well." a horribly familiar voice breaks in. "Queen Meghan will not be happy."
Drawing my sword, Dad and I instinctively go back-to-back with our swords drawn, the icy blue blades glowing in the darkness.
"Show yourself." my father shouts, his voice bouncing in the empty hall.
"Don't you recognise me, your royal highnesses?" the voice says, feigning hurt.
"Grimalkin?" we say together, surprise ringing in our tones.
"You fey are geniuses." the cat mutters. A fire lights up in front of us, illuminating the hall and the big, grey cat perched up on a crumbling statue.
"Hello, Grim." I smile, sheathing my sword and walking over to greet him.
"You've grown, princess." he remarks. The cait sith purrs contentedly as I scratch him behind his soft ears.
Grimalkin had always been in my life. Even when I was a toddler, Mom used to tell me about her past. Grimalkin was often mentioned. I never saw him myself until I was three years old. He visited me in the middle of the night in the palace at Mag Tuiredh. I woke to a big cat sat on the end of my bed. Despite my age, I knew exactly who he was. Since that night, Grim appeared to me alone twice a year. We never really had a particular topic for conversation but somehow, we would talk for hours. When I was younger, he would tell me stories about places he had been, people and creatures he had met. In his recent visits, he favoured to teach me about faery history and the use of glamours. I had learnt a lot from the wise, old cat. I had always enjoyed the cat's company though his nature could be somewhat patronizing.
"Cait sith." my father greets, bowing his head a little.
"Prince Consort." the cat nods regally.
"To what do we owe the pleasure, Grim?" I ask politely.
"I was bored, my princess. Your parents have provided some respectable entertainment in the past." he states, eyeing my father.
"So you'll be accompanying us to Elysium?" my father says.
"Perhaps I will. Most get interesting with Titania, Mab and Meghan all in the same room."
The cat could not be more right unfortunately.
"We had best head back then." I smile.
The cat leaps down from his perch gracefully and leads us out back into the cold night, his tail waving proudly.
