After three years of fighting in the service of his mercenary company, Eoan’s ready to lay down his sword and return home. He’s seen enough war and destruction and ruined villages; he only wants to find someplace peaceful and warm where he can figure out a new life. But he’s a long way from home, in the pouring rain. And rumor says the forest around him contains inhuman magical creatures such as dragons, garwolves, fairies, and sprites. He should be safe if he doesn’t leave the path ... but fairies have ways of tempting weary travelers. Julian hadn’t actually meant to entice the tired soldier from the path. He’d only been playing music for himself, and it’s been so long since he’s introduced himself to anyone, he barely recalls his own name. But now he has a human in his forest, and Eoan clearly needs care and comfort and healing. Healing requires closeness, and Eoan’s fascinating, complicated and heart-sore and strong. And Julian’s been very lonely for a very long time. But maybe he doesn’t have to be.

Sound the Fairy Call

The storm let up a bit, possibly in sympathy.


The forest he was currently navigating had ancient history. Stories, the peasant family who’d fed him that morning had murmured. Fairies. Changelings. Strange beasts and outlaws and wolf’s-heads. Men who’d gone out hunting and never returned, or returned seventy years too late and speaking in an idiom of years gone by. Warnings: stay on the road, don’t speak to strangers, eat nothing. The ielewill smile and take your hand.


Eoan knew enough scattered local dialect to know that ielesimply meant they. Themselves. He’d asked. Had gotten only headshakes. Unnamed.


The little girl had said, very gravely: dracul. And had given him a shiny stone, a pebble polished by time, in case the dragon might take that instead of him.


He smiled, just a little, remembering; and ran fingers over the stone, in his pocket. Dragons. Witches. Fairies. Maybe real, maybe not. But the weight was real, and comforting.


Chapter 2