Ski brothers heat and air

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Book One
Previous Chapter
Chapter Two:
The announcement sounded like always, “Announcing Queen Varella, ruler of the Raven Court at Featherstone, she who soars high above and wields the dark wind. And her pet, the Wolf of Featherstone.”
After my inner girl helped defend the palace against an invasion from the lake, our title received a promotion.
Hushed whispers became the norm for me after I arrived in court. The nobles never seemed to tire of looking at the queen’s pet werewolf. Covered from head to tail in walnut-colored fur, weighing close to 200 pounds, and carrying a jaw of teeth strong enough to pull apart iron bars, I was the perfect beast for the bird lady to tut around and keep others in line.
When the queen sat at her emerald-encrusted throne carved from stone and covered in cawing ravens, I joined her. Some days she wanted me closer and others further. But I was always in the chair with her.
The damn thing was big enough to hold three people. But the Raven Queen and her werewolf filled it comfortably. This particular morning the queen lightly tapped her left leg with two fingers, a movement I’d been careful to watch for over the last few months.
That meant she wanted my paws and head strewn across her lap. So I obliged. Because she was my pack leader, and my devotion to her was absolute. Though that certainly wasn’t the case when I first arrived after finding the inner girl had willingly ensnared herself in the queen’s service.
I tried my best facing off against the Raven Queen in the forest not far from here. To her credit, she gave me a fair shot. I just wasn’t nearly fast or strong enough to put her down. The feeling of being flipped over and slammed into the dirt hard enough to rattle trees around me was something I had trouble forgetting.
Looking out at the gathered nobles, faeries of the Raven Court who had assembled to speak before the queen or witness those who were, I saw more apprehension than normal. A goblin covered in blue flesh and wearing the fanciest rainbow suit I’d ever seen was sweating up a storm. A pair of mated centaurs were shuffling in place, hoves lightly clopping on the stone floor, cotton dresses swaying gently with their movements. On the opposite wall, a girl with the wings of a butterfly twiddled her thumbs, something that, until now, I’d assumed was just what my inner girl called an “expression.”
Random nobles cleared their throats, coughed a little, and wiped their foreheads, waiting for the queen to speak.
My pack leader remained silent, observing her people, trying to figure out what had them all so jittery. Or maybe she already knew. Yeah, that made more sense by her expression, a calm and gradual glance around the room. Her mouth gave away neither a smile nor a frown. Varella’s eyes retained their frosty gare, violet irises that told those who saw them nothing more than the Raven Queen was thinking about something. No other secrets did they betray.
After ruling this court for centuries, the dark monarch of Faerie learned to keep a tight grip on everything going on inside her thoughts and feelings. And on the off chance something slipped through, I was here to steal attention from the witnesses so they’d miss whatever nugget the queen might’ve dropped.
“Let the queen’s business commence,” she said at once and without warning. “I believe we have a long list of petitioners this day. No sense in dallying. Whoever is first to address me, step forth.”
The hushed whispers came to a stop as soon as she’d gotten a single word out. All eyes were turned toward the space in front of the throne. More cawing from the ravens on the back of this giant chair filled the chamber as we waited for the first person to take their place before the queen.
“I will approach the throne to start today’s business if it pleases you, my queen,” an individual called from the tightest cluster of nobles. They stood near the large brass doors at the entrance of the throne room. And I watched them clear out as quickly as their legs would carry them when this faerie spoke.
My pack leader motioned with two fingers for the speaker to come closer.
Approaching the throne with a cautious demeanor, hands folded together as though one might run away if not held tight, an androgynous individual stopped about 15 feet before the queen. I raised my head to get a better look at the faerie that smelled of lemongrass and peppermint.
Their orange hair was pulled back into a braid that swiveled back and forth on their approach. Brown eyes that couldn’t help but find their way down to me once in a while watched the queen for any sign of immediate displeasure. This individual’s movements were all carefully measured, as if every toe that made contact with the ground only did so after two days of nonstop planning.
It went beyond the otherworldly grace that typically accompanied faeries who danced along the shores of eternity as though it were as natural a thing as breathing or blinking.
This elf was tall and willowy, dressed in a well-tailored black vest covered in silver star designs. A short-sleeved white button-down shirt was tucked into his dark trousers, which were also decorated with silver stars and even bigger constellations.
“Who addresses me?” the queen asked, her tone warming a little bit.
They took a moment to gather their breath before speaking. Another quaint calculation on their part, eyes circling back around to me for just a moment.
“My name is Dareth Ickmunt. I bring you a petition from the Court of Stars, your grace,” they said, bowing their head.
A smile danced on the corner of Varella’s lips, and I looked from her back over to Dareth. He did not speak another word until the queen had time to consider his identity.
“Ickmunt. . . surname of the Star Court King. It’s been some time since I’ve spoken with King Falmouth Ickmunt. Of course, everyone knows he has no living sons. But I’ve heard he keeps a nephew close at hand, even granted him the title of prince. So tell me Prince Dareth, why do you visit my court without an official announcement? Foreign royalty doesn’t typically approach my throne among the nobles during court.”
Dareth paused and considered their next words. They made no effort to hide their identity. Now that I got a better look at the prince, I saw a blue crescent moon tattooed on their neck, along with more stars marking their terra-cotta flesh. It was intricate inkwork and truly set them apart from even the nobles.
“Forgive me, your grace. I did not mean to deceive you. Nor have I come to your court sans announcement for the purpose of spycraft or war. I only wear the title of ‘prince’ to placate my uncle. He is anxious about succession, you see. But I’ve considered myself royalty, despite his decree,” they said.
Varella clicked her tongue.
“So you come to my court without use of a title for the sake of humility?” my pack leader asked.
“It is as you say, your grace. I am not one for putting on airs. I find they needlessly devour my time,” the prince said.
They seemed to have found their noble legs, speaking a little more forcefully now, not with any aggression, just more surety. The elf may not want a title, but I saw nobility within their inflection now. It was their eyes, those locked with the pupils of my pack leader. Each knew who they were dealing with now. No games. Just the queen’s business.
My ears twitched as I heard the nobles whispering amongst themselves once more.
“The Court of Stars? Why would their prince travel this far south?”
“I’m not sure I like the sound of this unannounced royalty.”
“Why come here to our court if not to bring trouble? I don’t like their timing or tidings.”
They continued to speak in hushed voices, but I tuned out and focussed once more on Dareth as the queen raised an eyebrow.
“You speak of your time as though you have any. Our kind does not wear bondage brought on by the strands of time as mortals do. So it’s a curious thing to hear you speak of it in such a way,” she said.
With their eyes sharpened, the prince said, “You and I may have a ladle that can be dipped into the well of ages without limit, but my court faces the end of its days. This is why I come here to petition you, your grace.”
Her amusement was gone. My pack leader’s stare had grown cold again. I had only run in this world for years, but these were Faerie courts being spoken of now. Centuries of time wound up in each through peace and conflict. It was simply beyond the mind of me or my inner girl. Such was the comprehension of mortals and beasts.
“The Court of Stars is in danger of collapse?” the queen asked.
The prince nodded.
“My home of 90 years faces invasion if not utter annihilation from the Fist of Kairn, an alliance of courts who’ve expanded their military presence in neighboring territories far to the north. My uncle remains convinced our pacifism will keep us safe, and that the stain of dishonor that would come from taking a peaceful court will be enough deterrence. But I remain unconvinced.”
It wasn’t just whispering now from the nobles. A few of them were starting to speak at full volume.
“I knew it! They’ve come here to drag us into war.”
“Surely they can’t expect us to protect them from so far away. That’s absurd.”
“I say we ransom the prince off to the First of Kairn here and now. Then we avoid war and bring in a little coin.”
That last suggestion elicited a growl from yours truly. It was enough that the court came to a pause. When a wolf growls, the grotto takes notice. When a werewolf growls, the entire forest takes notice.
But my pack leader was not looking around the room to survey expressions from her people. She remained hyperfocused on the prince who’d traveled so far to be here, chased by the threat of war.
“Your uncle is an optimistic king. I will not speak ill of him, but his decision and confidence in honor seem precarious. So tell me, Prince Dareth, what exactly have you traveled all this way to ask me? What request was important enough that it had to be delivered in person and could not risk being sent via crow messenger?”
Another deep breath from Dareth before he spoke.
At the throne’s top, each raven perched silently, almost as if they were made of stone like the chair we sat in.
“You spent some years growing up in the Court of Stars, your grace. We still have a large painting of you and your brother when you were just a girl, studying constellations and the movement of celestial bodies with my mother and uncle. I’ve come here to ask that if war were to swallow my home, you be prepared to receive fleeing refugees.”
Varella considered this, crossing her legs and placing both of her hands on top of my head, which found itself in her lap once more.
“You’re not asking me to intervene militarily but to be ready to welcome evacuees should the Fist of Kairn bring destruction to your doorstep?” my pack leader clarified.
“My uncle has forbidden requests for defensive aid, citing our court’s laws. Pacificism means that not only do we avoid fighting, but our court refuses to allow others to fight for us. So I’ve come here to seek the next best thing. I made similar requests to the Yellow Court and Worm Court, but they turned me down almost immediately,” Dareth said.
I picked up the sound of footsteps as a noble stepped into view behind Dareth. He was a sturdy man wearing a red robe with gold trim. It covered most of his alabaster skin. The fae’s black hair was cut short, and his yellow eyes washed over the prince from behind.
“My queen, you cannot grant the prince’s petition. The Raven Court would risk further ire from the Star Court’s enemies if we welcomed survivors of a hypothetical calamity. Our resources are—”
The Raven Queen cut him off.
“I’m well aware of our resources, Lord Kitac. I do sit this throne and manage this court each week, do I not? So why would you presume to tell me things I already know? Or would accuse your ruler of being ignorant of her queendom’s assets?”
I didn’t give Lord Kitac time to respond, rising to my feet and leaping down from the throne to the stone floor. My large paws passed over gemstones in the landing beneath me. I strode past Dareth, not paying him a lick of attention. My fur came within inches of their legs.
My haunches popped as I assumed my full height and might, gradually approaching the lord who spoke out of turn.
Even though the other nobles were nowhere near my path, they backed up against the wall as I passed. Their heartbeats were growing faster. And why? They’d seen this play out before with Lord Harroldsen. They watched as I tore his throat open in an instant.
But not here. I took my time approaching this lord so he could stew in the juices of this particular error.
Lord Kitac was a man of average height, but I watched him start to shrink before my very eyes upon my approach. He made no move to run, and it was just as well. Outrunning a werewolf was not a common feat.
A deep, echoing growl resonated across the throne room. I watched as his face sank with each second that noise rattled in his ears. The confidence he so boldly spoke with just seconds ago had taken a sudden leap into a bottomless chasm. And I suspected he now wished his body could do the same.
I had a job to do here. My pack leader is a terrifying monarch. But she doesn’t have to put her power on display every time she sits the throne. If a ruler had to show their true power very often, they wouldn’t have a court to manage for long. That’s where I came in. Because a wolf can be terrifying each time you see one.
And a werewolf? Well, folks didn’t even need to see us to be afraid. A lone growl echoing from the dark is enough to make most folks turn tail and run, especially when they so effortlessly felt the rumble penetrating deep into their core.
I could be the threat and power flexed every day without a single noble questioning the strength of my queen. That’s why I’m here. I am her beast. The queen has her talons, her beak, her dark wind, and through me, she has claws and jaws that could fell any number of enemies.
Flashing fangs, I padded another step closer to Lord Kitac, and any surety he had left dove into the same chasm that he wanted to hide in at this very moment.
The noble fell to his knees and folded his hands.
“Mercy, please, your grace. I spoke out of turn. Please forgive me. Of course you know the resources of this court. You surely do,” the man said, nodding as if to convince himself.
Before I could step closer, my pack leader called for me.
“That’s enough, my pet. Lord Kitac knows he fucked up. Come back to me,” she said.
I locked eyes with the sweating fae noble for what felt like several minutes before turning to leave. He fell to his ass catching his breath and then slowly stood, trying to gravitate to a section of the wall where everyone would forget he existed.
As I climbed back onto the throne, the Raven Queen stroked my neck and said, “Good girl. Such a fearsome beast you are.”
I let my tongue hang out for a moment before locking eyes with Dareth and resuming a more vigilant pose.
My pack leader stood and addressed not just the prince but her gathered nobles now.
“You who call the Raven Court home, I do not blindly ignore your fears and worries. Whispers of war to the north have grown louder these last few weeks. And now that we have a physical reminder of that conflict before our eyes, I understand why it makes you uneasy,” she said.
Dareth said not a word. He stood listening to my pack leader with a calm demeanor that did not once lead me to believe he felt ignored by the queen’s change of attention.
“This court has seen war. We’ve seen death. But I will remind you that in my centuries on this throne, not once have I dragged our people into battle unjustly. Aggressors have tried their hand at conquering us, and enemies have stood at the gates of Perth before! Some of you were here to witness that. And what did I do?”
The hypothetical question was accompanied only by ravens above me, summoning their chorus of caws again.
Nobody answered the queen.
“I soared over those gates and struck down our enemies with a feathered blade in each hand. Time and time again, I have rallied our talons and feathers to drive the enemy back. You know me. I do not pick fights with other courts, and I do not loan our military to be a strength for others unless required to do so by established treaties. Do you not recall mere months ago when I avoided embroiling us in a war between the Yellow Court and Worm Court? Have you all forsaken belief in my wisdom so easily?”
Now some nobles did answer her.
“No!”
“We believe in you, our queen!”
“You’ve not failed us one single day on that throne.”
My pack leader nodded to her nobles. The energy in the room had completely changed. She’d whipped up their confidence into a fervor, all with a few words. I rose from the throne and stood at her side, my shoulders in line with her hips.
“You trusted me then. I call upon you to also believe in me now. I will not summon the ire and war of northern kingdoms to these lands. The Raven Court will remain safe and prosperous as it has for many years. So I ask you all, here and now, do you trust your queen?”
And with a thunderous echo, each lord and lady present hollered in affirmation.
“Armed with your confidence, I will continue to protect our lands. I appreciate you all,” my pack leader said.
Turning toward the prince as the nobles talked excitedly amongst themselves, the Raven Queen had softer words.
“Prince Dareth, I invite you to stay here at Featherstone tonight as my guest. If you accept my invitation, then we’ll discuss your request for prepared aid in the morning.”
The fae prince bowed.
“I appreciate your hospitality and am happy to accept, your grace.”
My pack leader awarded him a brief nod and then resumed her seat on the throne, calling me to her once more.
“Come now, my pet. We still have much of the queen’s business to attend.”
And that’s exactly what we did. Somehow, the throne room moved on from its display of Raven Court patriotism and continued with more petitions. None were as exciting as what we’d heard from the Court of Stars, though.
The very long day concluded with a shopkeep asking the queen for a 12-month moratorium on tax duties so she could expand her tailoring business from Perth into the neighboring village of Sanc Red. Once the queen granted her this, she dismissed the nobles. Within minutes, the throne room was empty and quiet as it hadn’t been since before sunrise.
I stood with the queen and stretched, wagging tail and rear rising while my front paws carried forward as far as they could. A yawn forced my jaws open wide for its escape.
Varella chuckled and ran her fingers under my chin.
“You did well today, my pet. Fierce and frightening as always you are at my side. My bargain continues to be fruitful. Are you ready to call it a day? Shall I summon your inner girl again?”
I nosed her arm, and the queen smiled.
Then she placed a hand over my head and called forth to the magic she kept within my wolfheart. It echoed within my core, responding to her will, reshaping me into the human girl that struck the bargain in the first place.
“Retreat, my wolf. Sierra Chelsi, I call you forth.”
A familiar smoke rose from the stone floor, engulfing my entire body so the transformational magic could take place.
My instincts sank into an inner slumber to be called upon whenever the queen saw fit in the future.
***
I stood on two legs once more and stretched. The smoke around me thinned, vanishing as the queen removed her feathered cloak, wrapping me in it as she often did when I appeared naked after each transformation.
“Fun day at court, my queen?” I asked, yawning.
My stomach grumbled, and I felt a familiar light-headedness that came when assuming a human form again.
“You certainly ensured so, my little wolf. I believe I promised you dinner and some answers about Bliss. Shall we head to your room to get dressed for an evening meal?”
“I’d like that very much, mistress,” I said, smiling.
Finally! I can have her all to myself, I thought.
My mistress ran her nails through my hair, which, as usual, left me frozen in a dizzied state while I absorbed every moment of her touch, head slumped to the right against her breasts.
“We’ll go when you’re ready,” she taunted.
I couldn’t budge, and she knew exactly why.
Maybe dinner wouldn’t happen after all.