And ghostly wails went up from the shadowy riders, and they shrieked and screamed, and as if something had reached up from the ground below, they were jerked down through the floor, down into the earth, down out of sight.

In the shadows yet mustered ’round his corner, Lord Terror stood and glared at Liaze, his face distorted with insurmountable rage; palm up, he reached out toward her, and slowly his fingers curled into a clawlike clench, as if he were trying to crush her heart; but nothing whatsoever happened, for the cock’s crow and the light of the sun had rent his power from him.

And Liaze said, “Lord Death, though you aided me to find that which I seek, still, for the terror you bring to others and for rending from them their very essence, you deserve to be cast out of Faery. Hence, I call you by what I think Mithras Himself would say is your true name: Voleur d’Ame — Soul Thief.”

On hearing this last, Lord Fear’s gaze flew wide with fright of his own. He reached out to Liaze in a pleading gesture, but she said, “Voleur d’Ame, I banish you, I banish you, I banish you.”

His eyes wide with dread, his face twisted in horror, Lord Terror hoarsely cried out “No! No!” but shrilling and screaming he, too, was jerked down and down, down into the darkness below.

The princess gazed now at the empty chamber, empty of all but her. “Thank you, Lord Mithras,” she whispered.

And the air seemed to waver for a moment, and the fine inn, the splendid inn, became nought but a ramshackle ruin.

With tears in her eyes, Liaze packed the harp away, and Gwyd came running in and cried, “Ah, Princess, thank the Fates, ye still be here.” And he broke out weeping with joy.

Liaze smiled through the tears running down her own face and she knelt and hugged the wee Brownie. “Oh, Gwyd, Gwyd, I cannot-”

“Princess, Princess, hush, now, hush, for I would nae hae ye be blurtin out somthin we would both regret. Y’see, I would stay wi’ ye until this venture comes to an end, and f’r me t’be able t’do that, ye canna thank me, else I’d hae t’leave ye.”

Liaze squeezed the Brownie tighter, and they both wept in relief, and finally Gwyd said, “Och, lass, come out and see the glorious new day. Besides, there be someone I would hae ye meet.”

31

Rede

As they started for the door, Liaze said, “Are you certain, Gwyd, that Lord Fear will not retaliate?” “Nothin be certain, m’lady. Yet if the legend be true, then he will nae bother ye nor those ye cherish, f’r ye’ve passed his test o’ bravery, and ye hae ridden wi’ him, and, lastly, ye hae outwitted him… or rather, t’gether we hae done so, f’r ye kept him entranced until the sun came and the cock crew and he and his deadly Hunt vanished in the light o’ day.”

“Ah, Gwyd, that isn’t exactly what happened. You see, although the daylight caused him to lose his riders, he was yet present, though confined to the shadows in the inn. And so, there at the end, when the cock’s crow and the sunlight reft him of his power, I banished him.”

Gwyd’s mouth dropped open in astonishment. “Ye did what?”

“Banished him. You told me that if I knew his true name, I could banish him. I guessed what his true name might be, and it seems it was so. Either that, or Mithras Himself decided I was right in that Lord Fear deserved to be cast out of Faery.”

“Oh, nae, Princess. If ye banished him, he nae be cast out o’ Faery; instead, he be trapped in that mountain o’ his unless and until ye and your bloodline be nae more.”

“Until I and my bloodline are dead?”

Gwyd nodded.

“Does that mean I myself must stay alive, else the Wild Hunt will return?”

“Och, aye. You or your get, that is; or your get’s get, and their get’s get, and so on down through the days o’ Faery.”

“Oh, my. What a terrible burden. If I die ere I have children, or if my line dies out, then-”

“Then Lord Fear and the Wild Hunt will ride again.”

Liaze sighed, but said nought.

“Anyway, Princess, had ye not banished him, weel, the cock’s crow would hae sent him away the moment daylight touched him.”

As they stepped through the door, Liaze laughed and said, “And just where did you get the cock?”

Gwyd gestured outward. “Why, m’lady, it be the very bird of Twk’s.”

In that moment, a red-feathered rooster sprang onto the porch of the inn, and a diminutive Pixie dressed in green with a green feather in his cap sat in a tiny saddle astride the bird and held onto reins.

“Princess Liaze, this wee cock-a-whoop here be ma adopted cousin Twk. Twk, this be Princess Liaze o’ the Autumnwood. And Twk, hear me: she banished Lord Fear.”

Twk’s eyes widened in surprise, and he leapt from the back of the chicken and swept off his green hat and bowed and declared, “At your service, Princess.”

Liaze laughed and curtseyed in return, and then smiled at the tiny being, no more than eight or nine inches tall.

“And this cock-o’-the-walk,” said Twk, motioning at the red rooster, “is Jester, my faithful steed and harbinger of the sun.”

“Well met,” said Liaze, and she canted her head toward the proud chicken; the bird paid the princess no heed, for he was strutting about and peering into cracks in the weathered boards, looking for insects to eat.

Gwyd said, “Princess, I ken ye hae a need t’thank someone; weel then, let it be Twk here, f’r he was the one what got his rooster t’crow right at the dawnin.”

“Pishposh,” said Twk, waving a negligent hand, “ ’twas no great feat. You see, I think Jester believes if he does not crow, the sun will not come.”

Liaze laughed, but Gwyd looked at her and said, “Regardless, there be nothin better t’send Lord Fear and his grisly riders packin, or so Twk and his band o’ Pixies say.”

Liaze knelt and said, “Twk, I most deeply thank you and your Jester.”

Twk shrugged a shoulder and said, “My lady, when Gwyd told me of your circumstance, well, it was the least we could do. Anyway, ’twas nothing.”

Liaze shook her head. “Oh, no, Twk, I wouldn’t call it nothing, for you and Jester and Gwyd saved me from a dreadful fate.”

“Dreadful fate?” asked Gwyd.

“Oui,” said Liaze. “The bed of Lord Fear.”

“Oh, my,” said Twk, nonplussed, “I have never heard of Lord Dread wanting to bed any female.” He glanced at Gwyd.

“Och,” said Gwyd, “look at the Princess, laddie. I canna blame Lord Fear f’r wantin what he did.” Of a sudden, Gwyd clapped a hand over his mouth, and he flushed.

In that moment the rooster crowed loudly, and Twk said, “It seems Jester agrees with you, Gwyd.” Then he burst out laughing, as did Liaze, and Gwyd only turned a deeper red.

“Come,” said Liaze, once again kneeling and hugging the Brownie, “if you have the horses nearby, let us break our fast and celebrate the coming of day.”

“They be next t’a burnie in yon thicket,” mumbled Gwyd, yet mortified.

As Liaze and Gwyd walked across the overgrown field, Twk rode Jester at their side, the rooster veering this way and that through the weeds.

“Oh, and Gwyd, I have seen Luc and I know where he is-atop the black mountain of the rede. It is not too far from here and I know the way.”

“Aye, lass, I recked it was so,” said Gwyd, pulled from his embarrassment, “ye wearin the red scarf and all.

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