Author's Preface
Clive had about seven prisoners during his young career, but five of them were locals who had too much to drink and not enough to eat. Now, he had this fae. Clive, not the type to harass anyone, knew Sycharians would have made this poor fae’s night his last, so Clive brought him in for his own good when Sychar reached curfew and the gates closed.
He opened the door for Delilah, standing in the rain and holding the excuse of an umbrella when she stepped inside the jail’s front office. There were three chairs to wait in, all with deep imprints from years of use, a large organized desk on the left with an identical chair, a door leading to the jail cells, and a modest fireplace on the right. He shrugged off his coat, mumbling apologies to Delilah for the stuffy dark room as she whispered polite responses.
“I’ll get the fire going again in a moment,” Clive told her. Delilah pulled her braid over one shoulder with a humble smile when she thanked him.
Delilah considered the desk, and its mostly empty registries while Clive prodded the fire back into life again. A single name, his age, and race written on the registry page. She lifted it, trying to read it with a squint in the dim light.
“What’s his name?” she asked, setting it down on the desk again and watching Clive get to his feet. He brushed off his dinner-plate sized hands and stepped over.
“Some fancy sounding thing; he said he is a lord’s son, and they don’t have last names.”
“Why would he not have a last name?” she asked. “Do you think he’s lying to you, like we aren’t supposed to tell fae our names, so he lied to you about not having one?”
Clive sighed and rubbed his eyebrows, restraining himself.
“Do you want me to take you home?”
“Wait, no, I didn’t–I’m going to talk to him,” her voice faded back into a whisper.
“You sure?”
Delilah nodded and studied the wet hem of her dress.
Clive went to the desk. He pulled out two chamber sticks and two candles from a drawer, lit them with the fire and set them in place.
“Ready?” he asked.
“I am,” she whispered, hoping Clive did not mind going through all this trouble.
He led the way behind the desk and opened the heavy fireproof door.
She cupped her hand around the flame as she passed, eyes wide and back tense. Delilah stepped down into a colder stone room, where tall metal-barred cells sat side by side.
Clive let the door close and stood beside Delilah as she stared.
On a green cot with four giant-sized blankets underneath him, sat a fae. He left his mound of blankets and grinned, making Delilah recoil from his naturally brown teeth. He stood shorter than she expected, and had well-kept wavy brown hair that framed his face.
His deep brown eyes flashed across Delilah’s hourglass figure and rested on her chest long enough that she noticed and forgot everything she had in mind to say. His brown burden bloomed, flooding him with options on how to manipulate her.
“By Jane’s fire, you’re as beautiful as you are pure. How do I have the honor of receiving such a visitor?” he asked in a jovial flush of words.
Clive glanced back at Delilah’s stunned silence before answering, wondering if fae were perverts.
“She’s interested in hearing your job offer and leaving Sychar with you.”
“How marvelous! You’re exactly what I needed to find. How do you do? I am Sir Kenneth, the Heir of Huren, pleased to meet you! What’s your name?”
The fae put his hand out between the bars with his palm up. Imaginary ants crawled up her legs, urging her to flee. She stayed still, unable to touch a fae.
“I’m Delilah,” she whispered. The candle illuminating her face flickered. Kenneth pulled his hand back with an easy smile. She was already afraid, which was ideal.
“It seems you’ve been in the storm, you poor thing. I have a few blankets in here if you would want one? Surely you’ll catch a chill while being wet in a jail.”
“I can–if you want to go to the fire upstairs–” Clive said, before Delilah cut him off.
“No, thank you, I’m really fine,” she said, glancing between them. Kenneth turned his attention to Clive.
“Is this your girlfriend?” Kenneth asked smoothly.
“No!” she cried.
“No, no, no!” Clive argued.
“We’re not a couple!”
“I don’t want her!”
“Our mothers were going to force us,” she gasped, looking up at Clive.
“Together, right–”
“But that’s not going to happen,” she said with a hand on her collarbone.
“I wasn’t going to kidnap you.” Clive reiterated, shaking his head at her.
“No, I know.”
Kenneth wanted to laugh at his good luck.
“I must apologize, kidnap?” he asked.
Delilah and Clive faced him and found their bearings. She smoothed her damp dress and took a breath.
“It’s a tradition to kidnap your bride. It’s the first part of the wedding ceremonies,” Clive told him, who nodded slowly.
“Well, that’s different, so I take it your mothers want you to kidnap Miss Delilah?” Kenneth asked with a little wink at Delilah’s slight distress.
“They want him to, but neither of us wants the union. We would not be happy as a couple, and he has a girlfriend,” Delilah explained. Clive mumbled in agreement.
“And in your offence you tried to drown in a summer storm?” Kenneth teased, making them chuckle. She hummed in soft shame, her cheeks growing pink in the low light.
“No, I tried to run to Caldea and make some money before coming home again,” she said, something heavy on her chest becoming weightier.
“I told her about the job, and since she’s leaving anyway, I thought you could help her earn enough so she didn't need to go alone.”
“Caldea is a hive of evil unfortunately, but, if it is a fortune you need and a break from your village, I have the opportunity for you! If allowed by our friend,” Kenneth said, motioning to Clive, “we will leave tonight, and I will bring you to a beautiful castle in Huren.”
“And do what?” she asked, switching her candlestick to the other side. “I don’t intend to stay away from Sychar. I know fae hate us because we don’t carry the burden.”
“Not at all!” he said, looking almost offended and putting his hands up in mock surrender. “The vast majority of fae would envy that you don’t have a burden; we would not mistreat you for it.”
“That’s untrue,” Clive snapped. “I know a fae that has accused my father of being cannibal because we have more Giant blood in us than fae.”
Delilah winced at the horrible offence. Kenneth noticed it and wondered how much Giant she had in her blood. His burden bloomed again, and giant sloth’s fur grew on his legs as his corruption.
“That’s awful to say, and I must apologize. I cannot speak for all fae, but in Huren we see the burden’s corruption to be the worst thing a fae can allow. Someone without a burden would be ideal, so if anything, you both would be considered perfected beings.”
“Perfected?” Delilah asked quietly, watching Kenneth closely. His brown smile worried both Delilah and Clive, because they could not remember what the brown burden meant.
“Yes, and welcomed as someone higher and better than us fae with our wretched burdens,” he soothed with a hand on his chest, repeating the bragging the Sycharian man had told him earlier that afternoon. “I would show you if you let me.”
Before she could respond, Clive interrupted.
“What exactly is the job you will hire her to do? And why is it paying so much?”
“Right, down to business. I like how you think, sir! The job is simple. There are mysterious worms we call wormholes. Now–” He held up a finger at both of them and stepped back. “My offer is for our brave Delilah to let a worm take her to where it exits, and map her way back to Huren. I have a team selected to go with her who are ready to go. She could see our continent, have her adventure, and in a matter of days return to Huren for her fortune.”
“You want me to get eaten by a giant worm?” Delilah blurted out, squeezing her braid with one hand.
“With a trained team that is professional, experienced worm divers, yes. It’s common that worms cannot eat more than one, maybe two people at a time, so if we feed it some blood before jumping in, they can be used to travel. All you need to do is make your way back to Huren, and I will pay you your weight in gold. Consider it an adventure that will end in wealth and notoriety!”
“Do you have any proof that it won’t eat her?” Clive asked, his deep voice coming out in more of a grunt than words.
“Right,” Kenneth began, looking away for a second and waiting for his burden to give him guidance, which it did. “The worms only eat fae blood. The burden, to be exact. She would not be consumed because she does not have a burden.”
He enjoyed their nods of understanding.
“I invite you to ask any fae, anywhere–if you had the time–about wormholes and what they feed on. The worm divers are going to create maps of our beautiful Paradise,” he explained with a sweeping gesture.
They both frowned in thought before Delilah faced Clive.
“Do you remember how to speak like the giants?” Delilah asked in Riese.
“I can speak Riese. Do you trust him ?” Clive answered, his voice reaching lower, as the language was mostly spoken with the throat rather than higher sounds in the mouth.
“I don’t have a way to see if he’s telling the truth. Worms? Isn’t that far-fetched?”
Kenneth watched them, his dark eyes flashing between them as they spoke and wondering if it was the language Jane used at times.
“My father has warned me of large worms that call out in the night. I passed by one on the way to Caldea before. They can sound like babies crying or women screaming, whatever it needs to mimic so you’ll get closer,” Clive said.
“So it’s true. There are worms that eat fae?” Delilah asked, her gray eyes pleading with him.
“I think so, yes, but he has people to go , ” he motioned to Kenneth, who gave a sudden smile. “If he didn’t need someone without the burden, why would he be here?”
“I don’t know,” Delilah whispered with big eyes.
“This is up to you. He has a contract with him and came here to hire someone. I’d do it myself if I were in your position.”
“Are you sure?” she asked Clive, her candle dripping wax again. Kenneth perked up, his eyes stuck on her.
Clive nodded. “You can refuse and go home. I’ll keep you covered, but if you want to go, this is when and how you need to do it. Going to Caldea alone is too dangerous.”
“Would it help if I showed you the contract? Which, if I may add, is not binding on you, but rather an assurance that you will be paid. You will sign it, but may back out at any time, breaking it. If fulfilled, though, your weight in gold can be expected wherever you please within the day.”
Delilah squeezed her hair. “No harm will come to me?” she asked softly.
“There will be a chance you could be hurt on the return trip to Huren, but not any more than traveling to Caldea alone in a storm without a man to protect her,” Kenneth answered with a smile.
“If you’re sure,” she whispered, watching Kenneth turn away to his bag. He took out a tube, and from it, a contract.
“I invite you to read this, give me your thoughts, and I am even willing to change the language in it to provide some confidence. I am already signed at the bottom, as you can see.”