Chương 58: Marked Squirt

Squirt didn't open her eyes. She didn't move. Couldn't. There was no body for her to move. Ah. She'd died. Damnit all. In front of her, a tall, gorgeous woman with glowing eyes smiled down at her, a sadness tinged to it. Without a mouth to speak, Squirt couldn't ask who she was. Not that she needed to. The woman's eyes were the night sky itself, sparkling with captured starlight. Her skin had the same soft glow of the moon.

Her hair floated ethereally around her, the strands switching between the dark night sky and the soft light of the moon to form a circle around her body. You have paid a price you were never meant to pay, little one. Holy fuck. It was the Hunt. Her echoing voice somehow captured the baying of hounds and whispers of winds. For your sacrifice, I shall grant you a boon. Return, my Athereon, and may your aim always strike true.

Truly awestruck, Squirt wanted nothing more than to ask the woman a hundred questions but she lacked a mouth or throat through which to speak. The Hunt leaned forward, pressing her lips to Squirt's incorporeal form while her voice echoed once more. Take my mark so that all will know of my favor. You have protected my gift at great cost to you. For that, I will speed the process so he may keep you safe in my stead. Squirt started to fade into nothingness. Be always free, my Athereon.

The first thing Squirt knew was she was warm. There was a soul-deep sense of safety that cocooned her in a warm blanket of soft furs, and she snuggled, not entirely certain who or where she was in this odd place between sleep and wakefulness. She didn't know how long she drifted between the two. Hours, probably. Days, maybe. The second thing she noticed was the heat radiating from a bundle in her arms. Vaguely, she noted it was the egg.

It had brightened considerably in her sleep, enough that her eyes, as she eventually began to open them, had to squint against the light. One of the blankets shifted, and she became acutely aware of the breathing around her. Her eyes were having trouble focusing, so instead, she listened, counting. One. Two. Three sets of breaths that weren't her. She thought she heard a door, but cradled, warm, and safe, it didn't startle her as it should. Not even when there was the soft murmur of a voice.

A gentle hand touched the top of her head, and she opened her eyes again, squinting against the pulsing light radiating from the egg in her arms that she was curled around. More sounds came into focus as she heard the steady pulse of a heartbeat pressed against her ear. The blankets shifted, one of them snuggling closer with a soft canine whine.

"Easy, Tobias. She's coming out of her sleep now," came the melodic voice belonging to the hand on her head. Squirt managed the energy to twist herself around, turning to see the woman with the gentle hands. No, it wasn't the Hunt—her skin was too dark, and her eyes too bright. She seemed familiar, and her smile was kind and comforting.

"Take your time, little one. I had to put you in a deep healing sleep. You been there for a little more than a week. You're safe now—back in Everwinter." Everwinter? What— She blinked rapidly as the memories came back to her in a rush. The burning of each lash. Her tears. Her screams. Bleeding out as the cold of the dungeon floor turned to warmth. The pain. Ten lashings were cruel enough. A hundred should have killed her. Her egg was safe. She was safe.

The blankets around her all shifted like they were trying to bury her in their comfort. Tired from processing the thoughts and memories, she closed her eyes and let sleep take her once more. The next time she woke felt more real. A quiet crack sounded, and her eyes fluttered open. This time, she was truly awake and able to take in the details around her. The room was circular with stone walls and a high ceiling.

The air had a touch of the summer warmth, the light of the day streaming in through the high, thin windows in the rough stone above her. Her gaze shifted down to the three wolves that had practically wrapped themselves around her and each other. One, the largest, curled around her back, and she recognized the dark fur of Lord Everwinter himself. She was nestled into his side, curled up with her ear against his front flank, his heartbeat strangely soothing. She was naked, she noted, not that it bothered her much.

With how close the three wolves were and the pile of furs they were on, she probably would have sweated through any clothes she had. The two other wolves were smaller, one lifting its head at the subtle movement she made as she cast her gaze around. The amber eyes and tawny fur were recognizably Tobias. She had to guess the third, snow white winter wolf, was Kenna. Tobias's wolf whined, his tail thumping against the furs as he shifted in excitement. Then stilled as another crack sounded.

The only door to the room opened quietly, and Squirt's attention snapped to it with a wary gaze. She recognized the woman who let herself into the room as the fallen light mage that had healed her after the Bone Whale. Hadn't she said Squirt had been asleep a week? The woman gave Squirt a kindly smile.

"It's good to see you are awake, huntress." She strode forward and gingerly moved between and over the wolves to touch Squirt's forehead, her eyes fluttering closed. Squirt felt her magic slowly trickle over her in a scan spell when another small crack and a touch of wetness drew her eyes down.

"What's this?" the woman asked in vague surprise.

"Well, would you look at that. It's hatching." Indeed. The egg in her arms was cracking, the tiny creature inside poking its nose through to take its first breath. Awed by the sight, Squirt found herself enraptured as the world faded to just the little snout breaking out of the shell. It huffed, then shifted back into the egg to break another piece of the shell off.

Slowly, bit by bit, it worked its way free of the shell until, finally, it managed to drag itself out, curling up against Squirt's chest and breathing heavily from the exertion of being born. It took a deep, restful breath, tucking its head onto Squirt's shoulder just by her ear, content and weary. Stunned, Squirt's hand lifted to stroke the soft, wet fur of the tiny, glowing canine only about the size of a weasel. An acute awareness in her noted that she could sense it. Truly. They were bonded.

She curled around the thing, a look of pure wonder on her face that made the fallen smile softly. The other woman carefully pulled out a handkerchief and picked out the bits of shell, laying them gently on the cloth to save the pieces. With the last piece collected, she stood, carrying it reverentially over and setting it aside before coming back with another cloth that she dipped in a bowl of water, using it to gently clean Squirt's stomach and chest of the birthing embryonic fluid.

Squirt, entranced by the bond and the creature at her side, merely continued to stare at the woman in wonder and disbelief. Catching the look, the woman said softly, "My name is Jezalin, by the way. You're in Everwinter castle with Bartos's pack. You've been asleep eight days—I didn't have enough magic left to heal you all the way, so I triggered a true healing sleep for you. It took longer than most, I suspect because of how little magic your body can take at once." Squirt scowled. Typical.

Clear amusement danced in the pale gold of the woman's eyes, her almost white hair done up in many tiny braids and wrapped in an elegant updo. Finished cleaning Squirt up, she stood.

"I'll go have a bathtub brought up and fetch you a change of clothes. I suspect your hunger will kick in soon after, so I'll have the kitchens send up a meal. Bartos, Tobias, Kenna, at least one of you will want to shift and help her." Squirt opened her mouth to protest, but all that came out was a croak. Jezalin considered her before smiling softly again.

"You'll want light food and a lot of water for the next few hours. The heavy healing sleep took a toll on your body." Squirt internally muttered and griped about needing to heal from a damn healing sleep.

"I'll be back in a little while to check on you." While her smile did not falter, her gaze sharpened on the dark wolf behind Squirt.

"Bartos, I'll give you the rest of today, but your title cannot wait forever for your attentions, especially not with all the refugees coming in." Squirt's eyes went wide. Refugees? Jezalin's smile held a deeper complexity to it. Pity. Remorse. Resolution. More that Squirt couldn't parse before she said quietly, "There is much to catch you up on, huntress. Annabelle sends her regards." This only served to confuse Squirt more as she struggled to remember who Annabelle was.

There was a knowing quirk to Jezalin's lips as she said, "Well, then," and exited out the door. A tub was brought in with supplies laid out by Lowvyn, who gave Squirt kindly smiles that continued to weird her out. She left, and behind Squirt, the fur shifted and receded into the firm flesh of a fey. A naked fey. Squirt scowled as she shifted herself off the lord, careful of the sleeping canine in her arms that clung to her as she tried to stand. Tried. And failed.

Her limbs simply would not cooperate, a weakness to them that only irritated her further. Strong arms scooped her up with a tenderness that made her bristle, but her throat was still parched and her vocal cords not working right. Instead, she was reduced to glaring up at— At… The grief in his face stilled her ire. Grief and guilt. He held her preciously to him, and for once, she didn't fight it. Instead, she huffed, relenting as he wordlessly cast magic to fill the tub with steaming hot water.

Squirt gave it a reproachful look. Her last bath experience had been awful to say the least, and she wasn't sure how hot water— He slowly lowered her into the tub, and she went rigid as her foot touched the warmth. He kept her cradled against him, giving her time to adjust to the warm water as her cheeks bloomed with embarrassment.

She'd been given a magical bathtub in her cabin, but she'd never actually used it— He lowered her further, and to her horror, he kneeled as he did so, lowering her down further and further until he set her against the bottom of the tub, gently laying her head against the edge. The little canine sighed in contentment while Squirt's brows furrowed, her eyes on the top of the water. Against her will, the tension in her limbs began to ease, not unlike being wrapped in warm furs.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more. Lady Kenna transformed next, her face weary and body just as nude as Lord Everwinter, kneeling on Squirt's other side. Squirt glared with envy at the woman's ample chest, sinking a little lower into the water in a pout. Together, the two of them washed and cleaned her, and despite Squirt's reservations toward the warm bath, it ended up being… exceedingly pleasant.

Particularly when Lord Everwinter added soap to her hair and massaged it gently with his fingers. Her eyes fluttered closed, and Kenna couldn't help the amused smile as the pixie finally visibly melted. Neither of them commented on it. Kenna's eyes took in Bartos's face, and knew he was still lost to his guilt. She shoved down the ache in her heart, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt that no matter how injured she had gotten, he had never once looked like that.

Instead, Kenna focused on the fact that of all the people she could have lost Bartos's heart to, she was glad it was this one. Even if the idiot hadn't realized it yet. Squirt, meanwhile, didn't notice the exchange as she had been in the process of melting under a head massage. Vague memories of her early childhood rose in an unexpected way, a comfort to the act she hadn't been expecting.

When he shifted her, cradling her head with one hand and gently scooping water over her short hair, her eyes slowly fluttered open. They stared at each other. He noted an odd tightness in his chest at the soft, trusting expression in her eyes, his breath caught in his throat. She noted an odd vulnerability in his eyes, on the cusp of breaking down and only barely held at bay.

The moment ended naturally as they both shifted their attentions in different directions—her on sitting up herself as she held her hand out for Kenna's rag, and him on wondering how to tell her about the mark on her forehead that had appeared several days ago when her body had glowed like the moon itself. Squirt took the rag and began scrubbing the little canine creature snuggled against her, pulling it off to get under its belly and ignoring the protesting yip as it wiggled under her attentions.

A knock sounded on the door, and the elven attendant Lowvyn returned carrying a tray that made Squirt's mouth water, the sudden appearance of the food triggering a ravenous appetite. Setting the tray down, Lowvyn then pulled out a soft tunic and breeches for Squirt. The canine yipped and scrambled out of her hands, swimming briefly before it crawled up over her shoulders and around the back of her neck.

She glared at him, then slowly stood from the water, using the edge of the tub to support herself, counting herself lucky that they had at least found a tub for her size of fey. Much bigger, and she would have drowned. The water abruptly drained, her skin smooth, dry, and warm. She scowled but didn't level a glare at the husk of a lord. Fine. He needed to care for her. Whatever. At least he didn't need to beat her to feel better. After the last two weeks, while she'd never admit it to his face, she'd missed him.

The Lord Prince Commander was many things, but he was a poor substitute for Lord Everwinter. Ugh. Gross. She cared for a Titled fey. Nope. She'd never tell him that. Her balance was still not entirely there, her limbs still a little weak even if they were stronger than before the bath. Lady Kenna helpfully supplied an arm to help steady her as she managed to get herself out of the tub.

Though it irked her, she let Lowvyn dress her, the little canine beast shifting on her shoulders as the shirt was pulled over her head— Squirt's eyes went wide as Lowvyn finished helping to tug the clothes into place, staring at the sleeves in wonder. The material was fine without being delicate. Butter soft and smooth without the weird slickness of silk. She could say, in that moment, that she had never been dressed in finer materials despite the apparent plainness of the outfit.

It didn't look much different than a normal common fey's tunic and breeches, but against her skin? She loved it. She scowled. Tobias's wolf crawled forward on his belly, his tail thumping and ears back. Squirt sighed, unable to resist the clear pleading. Lowvyn must have caught on, as with a knowing smile she picked up the tray of food and moved it next to the wolf laid out on the pile of furs.

Squirt narrowed her eyes at the wolf but acquiesced, managing to walk herself across the small room until she could curl up against the wolf's side, ignoring the way he shoved his wet snout under her arm and laid his tail across her lap. Whatever. At least they let her feed herself. Lowvyn helped Lord Everwinter dress as Squirt focused on eating, cautiously offering bits to the tiny canine on her shoulder only for it to turn its head away in refusal. He wasn't hungry yet, and he didn't eat that.

She finished the small portion, ignoring the way her stomach growled for more as she drank the water provided. Reaching for her hip automatically for her pouch, she finally realized it was gone. With a deep, regretful sigh, her head dropped. Damn it all. Lady Kenna took a careful seat in front of Squirt on the furs. Now dressed in her own simple clothes, she noted the placement of Squirt's hand.

"… your things were recovered." Squirt's eyes snapped up, giving Lady Kenna her full attention. She gave a small, tired smile.

"Lord Prince Ranin's party is coming here in a few days, and they'll have it all. Jezalin flew ahead with you once you were stable. It's a good thing, too, since… well." Squirt took another deep gulp of water before trying to speak. Her voice came out a little raspy, but she was able to soldier through it.

"What happened?" Lord Everwinter answered as he sat next to Lady Kenna in front of Squirt, now also clothed in fine yet casual clothes.

"Riverlands has fallen to divine judgement." Squirt gave him a hard stare, but his expression was solemn and drawn with weariness. He continued.

"The Hunt took offense to your treatment. When your punishment began, so did a surge. An unnatural one against the keep from dusk until dawn. Eight hours of battle." Stunned, Squirt's jaw dropped. The longest surge she'd ever been in had lasted almost three and a half hours. The longest she'd ever heard of was four. He studied her, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his legs.

"… tell me what happened, Athereon. There is much that is missing from the reports. We know that you took down the Bone Whale and then headed off for the keep, but the next we know of, you had admitted to a theft and were punished." Squirt's hand instantly moved up to touch the little canine, who gave her an encouraging, reassuring lick of her fingers. She scowled, dropping her gaze.

"… the long and the short of it is that the lord prince is an idiot. He did all the right things to show favor, but the things he did were for a fey that was beneath his station, not one at the very bottom. He made assumptions about how the Seneschal was treating me, and she made assumptions about my station, and I got trapped by damn social conventions. I couldn't argue with him in front of the attendants, and she is a strict observer of ancient customs, so I was reduced to answering questions only when asked.

A greenling servant summoned to the prince's bedchamber every three days who he shows too much favor to—you do the math." His jaw was tight, his brow drawn. Lady Kenna, however, leaned a little forward and asked, "That explains the background, but not exactly what happened." Squirt scowled at her feet, visible emotion in her eyes.

She bared her teeth, willing it all back as she gritted out, "Lady Riverlands' daughter is an attendant who didn't understand why the prince would choose a no-good flat-chested scrawny greenling for his bed and not herself. I fought the Bone Whale, but no matter how much I scrubbed in the forest creeks, I couldn't wash the stench off.

She managed the others as they almost drowned me in a tub, scrubbing me to wash the filth off as they picked through my things and claimed them for themselves since a greenling didn't deserve such finery as a specialty exclusive cloak he must have gifted to her for taking his cock so well—" Three growls sounded in the room.

"Oh fuck off," Squirt snapped.

"You asked, so I'm telling you. She grabbed the egg, saw it caused me fear, and decided to smash it to teach me a lesson. I lost it, tried to attack her when the Seneschal walked in, took the egg, and just like the little bitch decided to smash it to teach me a lesson, so I did the one thing I could think of to keep her from going through with it and claimed I stole it from the lord prince." Her rant over, she sat back against Tobias, fighting tears of fear, frustration, and rage.

Bitterly, she muttered, "I suppose I should be grateful that the Seneschal is honorable even if she's a strict bitch. She had ordered the other attendants not to harm me, and because I admitted to the theft to protect my master's property," she spat the word out in disgust, "she was lenient in her judgement. One hundred lashes instead of cutting off the offending hands." Dead silence.

Based on the still, otherwise infuriated faces of both Lady Kenna and Lord Everwinter, and the way their eyes were both of their beasts, they were hanging on by a thread. Squirt dropped her eyes and scowled, taking another sip of water.

"… frankly, had the lord prince just ignored me and asked the Seneschal to make sure her attendants left me alone, none of this would have happened. Instead, he insisted on making a point of me being an honored guest and made me the biggest fucking target there was." It wasn't just the lashings she'd gotten, after all. It wasn't just Silva and Lady Hawthorne.

She'd been dragged to the dungeons in the nude, those she'd passed laughing and throwing things at her, two stopping long enough to gut-punch her for some imagined slight. The dungeon Guard had offered for her to sit on their cocks or lick their clits in exchange for a lightened sentence since she took the prince's so well, and when she'd refused, they'd beaten her before they started, laughing and trading jokes the whole time. Squirt was tired. Tired of fighting for recognition she didn't want.

Tired of playing these games between titled fey too ignorant for their own good. This was a battle she hadn't asked for, fighting for rights against a system stacked against her. She was just trying to live her damn life. Trying to protect the people the titled fey hardly ever thought about beyond the tithes they granted. The silence that followed her story lasted over ten minutes. Strength was returning to her body, and she continued to slowly sip the water she'd been brought, letting her thoughts swirl angrily.

Then, as the minutes passed, the anger slowly faded. It took several more minutes for her to figure out why. Her eyes lifted to scan each of the three wolves faces, furred or otherwise, and even the attendant in the background who all stewed in quiet fury. They had cared for her. Before that epiphany, she'd known they had, but that was when it hit her, truly hit her, that they had cared for her.

Treating her wounds, flying her from one keep to another, even bathing her, as much as she hadn't wanted them to, with gentle hands. They listened to her side, believing her when she spoke, taking offense on her behalf and giving her comforts she'd never known—a safe, warm, comfortable place where she could speak her mind. Her expression softened, the edge of her lips quirking up in the smallest of smiles.

The expression eased the tension out of the other four in the room, all of them able to see the gratitude in it even without the words said. Then Lady Kenna leaned forward, her eyes narrowed.

"If I might ask... why did not you ask for help?" Squirt bristled." When? The lord prince was constantly surrounded—" The lady did not hesitate for a second as she cut Squirt off.

"We sent you with four others who you could have gone to for help." A long moment passed of Squirt staring at the lady, the lord seemingly pulled out of his reverie. Though he did not say it, Squirt could see the words he didn't say of that being an excellent point. Dropping her head with a sigh, Squirt tried to answer.

"I didn't think it would get that bad."

"But it did."

"Nutso and Darko were out in the forest. They didn't go into the castle." Lady Kenna counted on her fingers.

"Let's see... you still had the bull, Anvanil, Lady Cirn—""You wanted me to traipse through the castle filled with fey that hated me to look for an idiot without two brain cells to rub together or one singular mage—""Why weren't they guarding you?" asked the lord quietly. Squirt shifted, dropping her eyes down before muttering, "You told the lord prince that I needed space, so he gave it to me, expecting me to reach out for help.

I didn't know where Anvanil or Zakam were stationed in the castle, and it wasn't like I could ask anyone. Lady Cirn was stuck to the lord prince's side." The lord wiped a hand down his face and sighed, the sound full of exasperation, regret, and the weight of a thousand worlds.

"Next time... tell Zhadin. They are more powerful than you think."

"Not powerful enough," Squirt muttered darkly. She missed the disbelieving eyebrow raises of both the lord and lady, who themselves exchanged glances filled with meaning, a silent conversation between the two. Deciding to deflect away from herself, Squirt remembered a question she had earlier.

"So what was that about refugees?" Kenna's lips pursed, but it was Lord Everwinter she looked to, Squirt following her gaze to him. He heaved a weary sigh.

"Riverlands has fallen to divine retribution. I mentioned the first surge. The reports I received indicated that after it ended, Ranin found you had been punished and dropped into the dungeon. He did his best to minimize the Goddess's wrath by sentencing both the Seneschal and the attendant to the Hunt's justice. They and the Lady Celeste of Riverlands are no more, but it was not enough.

From what I understand, every night there is a surge of feybeasts on the keep that lasts until dawn, and the wards had never been made to last that long. Word spread. Fey are abandoning the cursed territory, fearing Her wrath." Stunned speechless, Squirt could do nothing but stare, slack-jawed, at Lord Everwinter. His expression remained just as solemn and serious as ever, silently confirming the truth to his words.

"But…" Squirt managed weakly, "I'm no one." His eyes flickered to her forehead before he murmured, "Not anymore." Lady Kenna murmured lightly, "What a shame She couldn't punish Ranin directly." Then she shot Lord Everwinter a sidelong glance.

"And you even spoke to him directly." The lord dropped his head with a sigh.

"It seems there were… failures of communication I did not account for." Though her tone remained light, it was just a touch deadly.

"He's always been a socially inept fool once you get past the charming appearance."

"He is Victory's chosen." Lord Everwinter sounded more tired than stern.

"You cannot punish him anymore than we can punish Athereon without fearing Her wrath."

"Pity." Squirt's attention snapped back to the lord.

"You can't… punish me?" He nodded solemnly.

"We cannot punish the Hunt's chosen without consequence." The Hunt's chosen? That dreamlike state with the Hunt… that'd been real? But… she was no one. Nothing. A gods damned greenling. Surely there were thousands of better options for the Hunt's chosen than… Disbelief and denial warred within her, but nothing could silence the strength of the memory of the Goddess of the Hunt herself. Lady Kenna said with mild amusement, "At least no one will ever doubt you are the Hunt's chosen ever again."

Squirt's eyes were glazed as she nodded. Lady Kenna smiled a little wider, ignoring the dirty look Lord Everwinter shot her to say, "Especially with her mark on your forehead." Squirt froze. Then, slowly, her eyes lifted to Lady Kenna's.

"… what?" With a teasing smile, she held up her hand, conjuring a bust likeness of Squirt in perfect detail, including the faintly glowing white lines that made up the moon mark crest of the Hunt. The crescent of the moon drawn as her bow against a starry sky. Squirt touched her forehead. She didn't feel any bumps or ridges, but now that she noticed it, she did feel a faint pulse of divine magic. Squirt scowled. Lady Kenna's eyes danced as she teased, "What's wrong, Athereon? Don't you like it?"

Crossing her arms and giving the most unintentionally adorable huff, she muttered, "Never in my life have I realized how much I have in common with a gods damned flying monkey." There was a pause. Then Lady Kenna broke first, snorting delicately into her palm. Tobias snorted and panted playfully, and Lord Everwinter tilted his head, his eyes softly narrowed in confusion as he repeated, "Flying monkey?" Squirt considered him, tilting her own head before she said, "Have I ever told you about Favets?"

His eyes lit up with eager interest as he said, "No, you have not." She scowled, but he was pretty sure there was a softness to this one as she began to tell him about the little flying monkeys.