Gritting her teeth, Honora Butler sneaked farther into
the dark, snowy forest. Danger lurked within the shadows,
and she would kill or be killed. Death didn't intimidate
her anymore. She knew it too well.
Everyone she'd loved had been taken from her.
Snow crunched beneath the soles of her knee–high
leather boots. When she was young, the Mercenary Guild had
taken her in. They'd seen her abilities and her
determination. They'd trained her, given her a chance when
she'd wanted only to die, and now she did what she bloody
well could to make sure the dark beings of the Unseelie
Court hurt no one else.
A horrified scream erupted ahead, beckoning her deeper
into the forest. It had to have been caused by her prey.
Picking up her pace, she pulled a throwing knife from its
sheath. Her magic surged into the blade, filling it with
power and making the metal white—hot.
The trees broke into a clearing. The cause of the cries
stood in the dirt road. A woman cowered on the ground while
a short, stocky man dressed in blood red with a matching
hat sneered at her. He looked to be having far too good a
time.
""I have a husband and kids. Please, don't hurt me,""
the woman whimpered. ""My master...he'll—""
The Fear Dearg snorted and crossed his arms in front of
him. He stared down his crooked nose at the terrified woman
as if pondering what to do first.
Honora doubted the woman was in immediate danger. The
Red Man mostly engaged in cruel pranks on those he sought,
but that wouldn't stop her from killing him. Her mission in
life was to rid the world of malevolence.
She slid from the trees, taking one quiet step after
another. ""Na dean maggadh fum,"" she said. Those
words, ‘do not mock me', were the best chance she had to
take him down without a problem.
The Fear Dearg jerked his gaze to Honora. His lips
curled back into a snarl at the interruption. ""So be it.
Now go on. Get out of here. Can't you see I'm busy?"" He
stared at her blankly, waiting. ""What? You want my favour
and prosperity? Wait for your turn.""
Just like that, he returned his focus to the woman. He
grabbed at her dress.
With a snap of her wrist, Honora sent the throwing knife
sailing through the air. A wash of blood arced in a thick
spray as the Fear Dearg collapsed, the knife lodged in his
head.
Shrieking, the woman scurried backwards from the corpse.
Her eyes were wide and horrified at the sight of the dead
faerie. ""What have you done?"" she asked, glancing
Honora's way. Shaking her head, she picked up her large
basket with foodstuffs that lay on its side. Most of the
food had fallen out, but the woman didn't bother gathering
it. She took the basket, then ran off down the dirt road.
What had that been about?
Honora watched the woman until she disappeared around
the curve of the path. She walked over to the dead Red Man
then tugged her blade out of his skull. It came away
easily, blood dripping off it in great crimson drops. She
wiped it clean on his jacket before tucking the knife back
in its sheath.
Her stomach rumbled. On the ground was an unsoiled loaf
of bread from the woman's fallen food. She stripped off her
bloody gloves and crouched. She brushed off a few leaves
then tore a piece from it and lifted it to her lips.
In the distance, she heard a faint noise like that of a
large flock of birds beating their wings. That couldn't be
right. Birds weren't typically active at night there. Yet
the sound grew louder.
The sudden realisation of what it was punched her in the
gut. She dropped the bread and raced after the woman.
Honora needed to find the safety of shelter. She couldn't
be out here when the Sluagh—restless spirits of the
dead—flew over. What they did was worse than death.
They captured their victims' souls.
Behind her, the cries became impossibly louder. She
didn't have much time at all. She had yet to spot any homes
or places to hide and knew if she were spotted she would be
connected with the murder of the Fear Dearg, and hunted.
She wouldn't be safe unless she found somewhere soon.
Chancing a look over her shoulder, she saw a horrible
black mass darken the sky. Screams of their victims filled
her ears then. They were close. She caught sight of an
elegant manor off to the left.