Episode 8 -Junya

We had a problem. Ashur was downplaying it, but his wings were leaking blood. He had them furled in that odd spiral shape you only ever witness on a Sea Fae, and his life’s liquid was dripping from the bottom. It was manageable as long as we stayed on the ground, but if we flew away, the exertion needed to get off the ground would turn the leak into a high-pressure spray. We’d attract every predator in the forest.

“Have you got any wound patches?” I asked urgently, inspecting the damage on the outer round of his wings.

Ashur winced. “We don’t carry much,” he said with a slightly pained expression. “The ocean always provides.”

I looked up and down. He wasn’t joking - I don’t think I’ve seen another fae wearing so little without being naked. His hair covered more of his skin than his actual clothing.

“Don’t you get cold?” I asked, fascinated. When he shifted his leg, his tattoos rippled. I resisted the urge to prod them.

“Don’t you get hot?” he retorted. “I’m surprised you can even fly in such long skirts! You could hide a lobster between your knees, down there.”

My cheeks heated up. “Hatchlings aren’t supposed to fly that far from the nest,” I admitted. “And this scadding dress doesn’t have pockets. Wait here in the hollow. I’m going to steal some spider webs.”

“How will that aid us?” he demanded. “What happens if the hook-beak comes back?!” I was glad to hear a thread of panic in his voice.

Serves him right for spying and stealing from me!

I started to edge away. “Spider silk soaks up blood and plugs the wound. Stay undercover and pray you don’t attract our local foxes. They’re greedy and they can dodge magic.” A doubt popped up. “Can you even do magic on land?”

Ashur stared at me like I’d lost my mind. “Everywhere has water, lil’ kook.”

“True. Stay here and don’t bleed out.”

I scampered away, mindful of the buzzard above us. I wished someone else were here with me. Goron would be ideal, but I’d settle for one of the twins. Birds of prey relied on thermal drafts to hunt, and they could be disrupted with the right combination of air spells. Cursing my lack of magic, I ran between the trees and bushes, using their cover as much as possible whilst looking in every direction upwards for spider webs. What I hadn’t considered was the uneven ground. I ran across a particularly boggy patch, sank up to my ankle, then tripped on my skirt’s hem with the next step. I threw my arms out as I fell, only for them to squelch deeply into the mud. Then, just as I thought my day could not get any worse, I heard a large snuffling sound behind me.

I tensed, aware that any movement might draw attention to me. Instead, I eyed the nearest tree. It was a mature black poplar, its trunk gnarled, knotted and fissured with just enough cover for a small fae. The snuffling drew closer. I flicked out my wings, ready to dash to safety, then heard a thump on the ground followed by the sound of scratching.

“Cut it out, Stiggers!” someone complained. “We’d be home by now if you hadn’t stopped for a snack.”

“Then get off and walk,” a deeper voice growled. “I’m not your legs! I should be napping right now. A few worms to keep me going under this hot, bright sky isn’t much to ask.”

Stiggers? I’d seen the badger before at dusk, burrowing around Shayde’s doorstep. She had some kind of understanding with the Earth fae, which meant - I hoped - she wouldn’t eat me.

I sat up, my arms reluctantly coming loose. My clothes were stained brown and stuck to my body, while I had flecks of mud in my hair. The only clean part of me was my wings. I looked around and saw the badger’s grey body in the undergrowth, to my left.

“Help!” I called out. Then, realising how pathetic that sounded, I cleared my throat and tried again. “I request your aid,” I said, trying for something more formal.

“D’you hear that?” The first voice said again. I was fairly sure now it was a fae and male.

“No,” Stiggers said sulkily. “Here, help me turn over this rock. I bet there’s something crunchy underneath.”

“We can forage in a minute. I know I heard something…”

“Over here!” I called loudly.

There was a rustle in the bushes, then the leaves parted to show one of the oddest fae I had ever seen. He was thin and wiry, with long dark hair spilling over his shoulders and back. His arms were peppered with small grazes, his torso was bare, and a pair of patched and rugged trousers graced his legs. What caught my attention were his wings. Outlined like a butterfly’s, they flickered silver and gold in the sunlight with elaborate, overlapping scales. When he flapped them, it looked like he was trailing fire.

He saw me staring and self-consciously folded them back. “What’s the problem?” he asked.

I staggered to my feet and glanced upwards. “There’s a buzzard hunting us above. And I’ve got a wounded fey nearby.” I wiped some of the mud off my clothes and gave a short, stiff bow. “I am Junya ap Bryken Anneth, and I seek aid under the Harmonic territories treaty.”

The fae grinned, his face lighting up with mischief. “You’re Junya? The slow-poke, my Uncle is teaching?” He swaggered forward and gave an exaggerated, sloppy bow, his head bobbing and spine bending. “I’m Heck. Adventurer, inventor and badger hero.”

“You wish,” Stiggers rumbled as she pushed through the undergrowth. She padded over to inspect me with a loud sniff, the black, round nose filling my vision. “Did you mean to dress up like a worm?”

“Camouflage,” Heck said, nodding wisely. “Some of our warriors do that before hunting.”

“I fell,” I said, flushing red. “You’re Shayde’s nephew?” I’d heard about Heck, but the Harmonic had been careful to keep us apart. I had the impression he was a sickly, shy earthling, which was a million miles away from the swaggering menace standing in front of me.

“Yes. At your service, as per the treaty and all that formal blardy-blah. You said someone was hurt?” He grabbed my hand, heedless of the mud and tugged me onto solid ground.

“A fae called Ashur. He’s got bigger wings than us, and they got caught on the brambles. He’s bleeding badly.” I glanced upwards again.

“Don’t worry about the bird, it won’t attack with Stiggers around,” Heck said casually. “I’ll grab some moss and yarrow, and we’ll rescue your fae.”

“He’s not my fae,” I said, relaxing slightly. “He just followed me here.”

“We could eat him, then?” the badger suggested. Heck slapped her flank as he walked past. “No! This is an adventure, Stiggers. Besides, it’s your fault we’re in this mess to start with. If your stomach hadn’t started rumbling…”

Overhead, I spotted three spider webs swaying in the bushes. Leaving the odd pair to their argument, I flew up to collect them. It took a while, and my arms were covered to the elbow with sticky strings when I flew back.

Heck was mounted on his badger’s back, holding a scrap of cloth stuffed with bright, green spaghum moss. I squinted; the cloth looked like it had been a patch on his trousers.

“Ready?” he called to me cheerfully. “Lead the way.”

What had taken me twenty minutes to crawl took only five to fly back. There was only one problem. The grove with the hollow log was filled with a thick sea mist.

“This is not right,” Stiggers said, with a sneeze. She backed up, then sat down, causing Heck to slide off her back with a scolding squawk.

“He’s a Sea fae,” I said glumly. “It’s probably his way of staying safe.” I fluttered to the ground. Trying to fly without sight between the trees would be suicidal.

Heck fell in step beside me. “At least we know it’s the right place,” he said encouragingly. “And we’re not far from my holt. Besides, it will be dark soon, and the Craft Fair will be finished. Won’t your people come looking, then?”

I winced. That would not go down well. I would be grounded for the rest of the month. “I would rather not worry them,” I said. “Ah!” I skipped around a bramble sucker. “The log’s got to be close.”

“The fog does weird things with distance,” Heck said thoughtfully. He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled. “Hey! Hollar! Water-sprout! Where are you?”

There was a scuffle to our left, then Ashur loomed out of the fog. He was pale and shaking, his sea-green hair standing out in horrid relief. “You came back,” he muttered.

“Alas, yes,” I said, tugging gently at his bloodied wings started dabbing the spider-silk into long scratches. I know from my own experience it would clot, stick and speed up the healing. On the other side, Heck was dealing with the big puncture wounds, moving with a speed that spoke of familiarity.

“Who is he?” Asher asked. He stared up at Stiggers and blinked. “I know you.”

“Stay still,” I snapped. “You can’t die until I get my beads back!” I flinched as Heck poked me in the back. “Look,” he muttered to me, pointing. At the bottom of Ashur’s right wing, up the vein, was a long, thin tear. My heart sank. There was no way we could get him back to the coast with that injury.

“Uncle can fix it,” Heck said, interpreting my look of horror. “He should be back soon.”

I licked my lips. I would be in trouble no matter what happened now, but Shayde was a better prospect than Sennan.

“Lead on,” I said and hoped I was doing the right thing, trusting this Earth-struck lanky fae.