minions capture Faerie beasts from her own lands in the Otherworld and set them loose to roam the forests of Herne’s mortal realm, all for the sake of her lover’s sport. Magnificent animals: stag and boar and bear.
And what had once been folly and fun soon became a pursuit in deadly earnest. The hunters became consumed, riding in the chase with the mortal prince and his fantastic steed-huntsmen and -women, hounds and horses, riding with wild abandon above the forests of that ancient world.
The branches of the trees caught at Kelley’s silk sleeves as the hunting party thundered to a stop. They were at the edges of a forest glade where a pure white monarch stag stood defiantly, held at bay in the clearing by a ring of enormous hunting hounds. For three days, Herne had led the hunt in a mad, exhilarating chase of this regal quarry.
Kelley had been as caught up in the excitement as anyone, but now all she felt was a painful tightness in her chest. She watched helplessly as, urged on by his companions, the Horned One drew an arrow from the quiver on his back. Herne’s missile flew with deadly accuracy, striking unerringly, deep into the King Stag’s throat. The snow-white creature bellowed and fell to its knees, its blood flowing in a silver river down its hide to pool like molten metal on the grass.
The Faerie hunters cheered their prince’s triumph and two beautiful Fae rushed up to Herne, throwing their arms around him, even as the image of the dying stag almost broke Kelley’s heart. Beside her, Sonny made a soft sound of protest. Kelley looked over at him and saw his silver-gray eyes flash with anger and sorrow at the sight of the downed beast.
Kelley felt other eyes upon them and turned her head to see Herne staring at Sonny-and then, briefly, at her. The Hunter’s brow creased in a furrow beneath the rim of his bright helmet. After a moment, he smiled and turned back to his companions, leaving Kelley to wonder what he’d seen.
Herne approached the body of the stag, stopping at a distance of a few feet. There was a long, stretched moment of silence in the forest, for even the birds had stopped singing. Kelley raised a shaking hand to her forehead and realized she had been clutching the reins so hard they’d left red marks on her palms.
Suddenly the animal twitched and shuddered where it lay upon the ground. The majestic white creature drew breath again and churned its legs, lurching back up onto its feet. The stag pawed the turf and shook its head. Kelley could scarcely believe her eyes. It was alive again!
The Hunter lifted his bow in salute, and Kelley looked over at Sonny, feeling the corners of her own mouth turn up in response to the wide smile that suddenly spread across his face as the stag bounded off into the forest once more, leaving nothing behind but a trace of silver blood on the grass.
The Faerie hunters cheered, and all was well. Herne turned back to his companions, flinging an arm over one of the beautiful huntress’s shoulders as the group burst into song. But from the corner of her eye, Kelley saw a blurring of darkness flash through the trees-a raven, flying off into the depths of the forest, its cry echoing harshly.
Later, once the sun had set, a great, lavish banquet was spread out upon a high hill. Herne was particularly merry that night, calling for games and music; he was never alone, constantly surrounded by the shining Fae who doted on him. One lovely Faerie girl had removed Herne’s horned helmet and was weaving a crown of leaves through his hair as he laughed at a story another hunter was telling.
Over on the other side of the hilltop, on a wide stretch of flat earth, a furious game of hurling-something resembling field hockey but played with a silver ball and wide-bladed sticks made from polished oak-was being played at full tilt. Kelley’s untutored eye could discern few if any rules as the battle for possession of the shining ball raged between two groups of Fae. It seemed like gleeful, dangerous chaos to her, and she kept her distance. But she couldn’t help noticing how Sonny drifted over to the margin of the pitch to watch them play. His expression turned wistful, and Kelley guessed that he was thinking of his own childhood in the Otherworld where, no doubt, he had played this game or one like it.
Not wanting to intrude on his reminiscence, Kelley walked a little away from the revelers and stood at the edge of the hilltop. Looking down, she saw the lights of a small village nestled in the valley, bordered by the thick forest where they had hunted that day. The full moon illuminated the houses, and Kelley could just make out the figures of two villagers emerging from their cottage to peer up at the hill.
Kelley’s skin prickled, and she looked up, toward the horizon, and saw Mabh standing alone on a barren hilltop in the distance. The Faerie queen’s dark cloak spread out behind her on a cold wind as she watched Herne’s festivities from afar.
Anger, palpable as a thundercloud, gathered around her. In her fist, she gripped a slender, silver-tipped spear. But Kelley also thought she saw the Faerie queen’s shoulders hunch beneath her cloak-as though Mabh wept.
Kelley’s heart went out to her.
But as the dawn approached, her sympathies for the Autumn Queen vanished. As Herne and his hunters slept, full of meat and mead and sparkling Faerie wine, Kelley awoke from an uneasy dream to see Mabh stalking silently among her lover’s companions. Her lips moved, the breath hissing between her teeth, as she knelt down before each sleeping Faerie hunter, tying charms around their throats. Black, glittering charms.
Kelley froze, realizing the queen was casting a terrible curse as she wove a path through the sleeping Fae. Once she had passed, Kelley dared to sit up, and looked at the Faerie asleep on the ground. Horrified, she watched the exquisite beings amid whom she had been living change before her eyes-becoming terrible in their beauty. Dark. Dangerous. The queen’s magicks had transformed them; no longer carefree, they were cruel looking even in sleep.
Creeping silently to the edge of the hunters’ camp, Kelley watched Mabh stride down the sloping hill to the forest below. Reaching the edge of the trees, the queen waved a hand and conjured an ugly, gaping rift in the wall between the mortal world where the hunters slept, showing glimpses of a dark, forbidding Otherworld realm beyond. Mabh put two fingers to her lips and whistled-soundlessly, to Kelley’s ears. She was answered by a pack of vicious hounds-Black Shuck-who bounded from out of the rift between worlds and into the forest.
Crouched at the edge of the hill’s precipice, Kelley saw Mabh’s hounds drive the hunters’ noble quarry out from beneath the sheltering trees, herding them like cattle. As the Black Shuck snapped at the silvery heels and exquisite hides of the magical animals, Mabh waved her arm again and the shuck drove them through the rift. The sky began to lighten in the east just as the last of the quarry-the white King Stag-leaped through.
“She will hide them in her own lands, the Borderlands, in places where the sight of neither men nor Fae can find them.” Sonny’s voice was grim. He appeared out of the predawn mist at Kelley’s side, watching with her.
“And then what?” she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know. “What will happen now?”
“Mortal beasts are…no longer challenging to the hunters,” Sonny said softly as he unclasped his cloak and draped it over Kelley’s shoulders.
He must have seen her shiver. She didn’t tell him it wasn’t from cold.
“They will seek other prey,” he said.
But as he spoke, the sun was already rising. The hunters were awakening.
Herne and the transformed Faerie greeted the day with bloodlust shining in their eyes. Mounting their horses, they set off at breakneck speed for the forest with a newfound grimness underscoring their elation. Sonny and Kelley mounted their steeds, too, but kept well behind their now-frightening companions.
Searching everywhere for their enchanted quarry but finding none, the spell-ensnared Fae howled with madness and rage at their spoiled pursuits. Thundering to a halt at the ragged edge of the woods, they looked up and saw, atop the hill where they had camped, the Dark Queen standing, still as any statue.
Mabh smiled coldly and put a tall bronze war horn to her lips. Kelley had to drop the reins of her horse and cover her ears as the queen blew three earth-shattering notes, calling the Wild Hunt to war.
Herne and his hunters seemed to go mad at the horn’s terrible sound, tearing up into the sky and brandishing swords suddenly livid with flame. Some of the treetops caught fire as they passed, casting an orange glow on the bellies of low clouds and painting the Faerie with lurid, angry light. The Hunter and his once-beautiful companions, features now twisted with hate, turned malevolent eyes toward the human village that lay just to their west-the village Kelley had observed during the night.
Horrified, she turned desperately toward Sonny, who grabbed the bridle on Kelley’s mount as her horse reared in distress. Kicking his heels into his own mount’s flanks, he wheeled the horses and led Kelley away from the Hunt as fast as their steeds would carry them.
“This can’t be happening,” she gasped, breathless, as they reached the cover of the forest and she hauled her charging horse to a stop, forcing Sonny to circle his mount and return to her side. “They’re not going to kill those
