Bane of Hounds: College Fae, #3

License Notes

Copyright © 2020 Byrd Nash

http://www.byrdnash.com

Cover Art by Original Book Cover Design

https://www.originalbookcoverdesigns.com/

Publisher: Rook and Castle Press, Tulsa, OK

All Rights Reserved.

ISBN 978-1-7348938-6-1

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and events in this book are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, places or persons, living or dead, are purely coincidental.

Byrd Nash

Publisher's Cataloging-in-Publication Data

provided by Five Rainbows Cataloging Services

Names: Nash, Byrd, author.

Title: Bane of hounds : college fae junior / Byrd Nash.

Description: Tulsa, OK : Rook and Castle Press, 2020. | Series: College fae, bk. 3.

Identifiers: LCCN 2020909179 (print) | ISBN 978-1-7348938-4-7 (paperback) | ISBN 978-1-7348938-7-8 (paperback) | ISBN 978-1-7348938-3-0 (ebook : Kindle) | ISBN 978-1-7348938-6-1 (ebook : epub)

Subjects: LCSH: College students--Fiction. | Magic--Fiction. | Fairies--Fiction. | Animals, Mythical--Fiction. | Fantasy fiction. | Bildungsromans. | BISAC: FICTION / Fantasy / Contemporary. | FICTION / Fairy Tales, Folk Tales, Legends & Mythology. | FICTION / Coming of Age. | GSAFD: Fantasy fiction. | Bildungsromans.

Classification: LCC PS3614.A724 B36 (print) | LCC PS3614.A724 (ebook) | DDC 813/.6--dc23.

Other Books by Byrd Nash

College Fae Series

#1 Never Date a Siren

#2 A Study in Spirits

#3 Bane of Hounds

#4 Storm of Songs (2022)

Contemporary Magical Realism

A Spell of Rowans

Romantic Fairytale Retellings

Dance of Hearts (Cinderella retelling)

Price of a Rose (Beauty and the Beast)

Fairytale Fantasy

The Wicked Wolves of Windsor and other Fairytales

Snarling people have snarling dogs,

dangerous people have dangerous ones.

Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Dedications

I told my Love a Story

That had no end.

Bane of Hounds

College Fae #3

Byrd Nash

Rook and Castle Press

Tulsa, Oklahoma

Junior Year, Fall Semester

Leopold-Ottos-Universität

Geheimetür

Bewachterberg

In Europe is a special place where humans and fae attend college classes together. Beware though, the university does not guarantee your safety.

Keeping the Peace

Brigit Cullen was cold. She should be home studying for a test, not hunkered behind a hedge waiting for a wailing wraith to scream an omen of death.

You’d think the banshee would adhere to some sort of schedule. It’s a full moon. Why can’t she show herself before we freeze to death? Brigit grumbled to her companion, Logan Dannon.

As a dryad, the fall and winter seasons of the Human Lands made Brigit feel sluggish. Her home in the Perilous Realm had a more temperate climate than the city of Geheimetür.

Bewachterberg was south of Germany and Switzerland. Surrounded by mountains, it could get chilly even in the fall. Dealing with the cold was one of the many adjustments she had to make these last two years as a student at Leopold-Ottos-Universität Geheimetür.

She gave a sulky sideways glare at Logan. His human metabolism made him better at handling the frosty climate of mid-October. Or maybe it was the heavier coat?

When Logan didn’t respond, she muttered again, her breath making fog clouds in front of her nose, After all, it’s not like we’re being paid by the chancellor to solve his little problems.

Chancellor Bandemer is good at delegating things that annoy him, agreed Logan, who was behind the bushes with her.

Chancellor Bandemer had appointed Logan and Brigit as Student Liaisons last year after the events in the library. They were tasked to mediate complaints between the fae and humans. After their initial elation, they both learned that dealing with difficulties between students from two vastly different cultures was a big headache.

Thinking upon their most recent adventure, Brigit’s complaint turned into a rant.

Last month, I cut my weekend plans short to trudge through the Geheimetür sewage system to bargain with a tommyknocker. Did we get any thanks for passing along the warning from that fae mining spirit to the chancellor? No! All I got was a stench that took a week to get out of my hair!

The knocker told us that bridge was going to collapse, Logan reminded her. That saved lives, Brigit. We might not get much thanks from Bandemer, but never doubt it, we are doing good work.

Logan’s calm reply stirred up her torpid blood.

Frost on the pumpkin, Logan! Do you like being Bandemer’s unpaid lackey?

We do get one credit hour of coursework for it, he reminded her.

Brigit exploded and uttered every colorful fae curse and swear word she could think of. She only stopped when she noticed the smile Logan was trying to hide behind the upturned collar of his coat.

You did that on purpose!

You feel warmer now, don’t you? Before she could answer, Logan pulled off his gloves and handed them to her. It would be easier to wait if you weren’t so cold. Try these. They’re thermal.

Brigit pulled them on with stiff fingers. She preferred wearing organic material, so she could talk to her clothes, but the relief they gave made her sigh.

Logan threw his arm over her shoulders, drawing her tight against his side. The maneuver was awkward because they were sitting on their heels behind the bushes, but his solid body blocked more of the wind. She put her head on his chest and burrowed deeper.

Look, I also have a test tomorrow. I don’t like this either. If the banshee doesn’t appear in the next hour, we call it a night, okay?

Agreed, she mumbled against his coat.

After a moment’s silence, Logan asked, What do we know about the banshee?

The appearance of a banshee heralds the death of someone. She seems to be focusing on the third floor of the dormitory where a human, O’Conner, lives. His family history fits the profile of being a likely target. This banshee comes from a Gaelic fae court. Fae folk from that region seem especially attached to family bloodlines.

Huddled like a chick tucked under a hen’s wing, Brigit gave him a sly smile as she added, Something you would know about, Logan.

Logan didn’t take the bait about his grandmother, the Celtic goddess, the Morrighan. Last year, their meeting with Bandemer exposed Brigit as a fae princess and Logan’s family tree. Brigit hadn’t allowed him to forget it.

He deflected, Like the brownie?

The brownie, who managed their housekeeping, had initially been attached to Brigit’s ex-roommate, a troll from Scotland. Somehow, the dryad had convinced her to come live with them.

Kinda. But the brownie was able to break her Bond of Servitude because Sam’s behavior was bringing out her boggart side. If she had stayed, she would have transformed. A lawyer told her it was a repudiatory breach so she had the legal right to terminate the contract. Brigit shook her head, her tight black curls bouncing, as she said, Banshees, however, tend to stick to blood ties. Silly old-fashioned creatures.

If she won’t leave, would the chancellor force O’Connor to withdraw from the university?

Maybe if she would show herself, we could find out!

As if Brigit’s words had summoned her, a strange cry started in the air above their heads. Brigit felt a cold shiver of fear up the back of her neck. It was a disconcerting noise even for someone like herself, used to the ugly natures of the fae.

Logan bent closer and whispered in her pointed ear, My flight response is really kicking in.

It’s the banshee. Her purpose is to unnerve you.

It’s working, Logan’s reply was terse.

Sometimes she forgot Logan wasn’t fae. For humans targeted by a banshee’s bloodcurdling screams, it was probably horrifying. Brigit reached over and gave Logan’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

The shrieking was piercingly shrill. It started low, and built in intensity until the glass windows in the dormitory vibrated in their frames. The screaming woke students in the dorm. Faces, appearing as shadows, peeked out from behind drapes.

This was the reason they were there. Students were threatening to stop paying dorm fees if the banshee situation wasn’t sorted out soon. No one felt safe. In typical fashion, Bandemer shoved the problem onto his Student Liaisons.

Logan and Brigit stood up, but she had to take a moment to stomp feeling back into her feet, which had fallen asleep. They could now both see the ghostly apparition of the banshee.

She was suspended in mid-air, hovering outside the third floor of the dormitory hall. Since the banshee’s face was towards the building, they only saw the back of her form. In some ways, she was similar to the ghosts they had met in the library, for she was as insubstantial as a spectral vapor.

Brigit estimated the banshee to be at least seven feet. If her height didn’t betray her as fae, her torso would have, for it was not of human proportions. Instead she was long and thin, like a sapling, and her arms were branch-like, almost as long as her torso.

The banshee wore a long white dress. The skirt and its train billowed away from her body like the tail of a wispy cloud. Her thick red hair fell past her ankles and their snake-strands whipped around as though torn by a strong wind. Only the chilly night air was still.

Recovered from their first fright, Logan and Brigit could now understand the words she was screaming.

Tomorrow, you will have a pop quiz in biology!

Brigit and Logan stared at each other in surprise.

Your roommate ate the last cookie from the tin.

At this, Logan raised his eyebrows and Brigit rolled her eyes.

Professor Steingard doesn’t like you. Your face reminds him of his nephew, who he hates.

Brigit cupped her hands around her mouth. She shouted up at the banshee floating above them.

By the authority vested in me by the chancellor of Leopold-Ottos-Universität Geheimetür, Bewachterberg, I command you float down here and explain yourself!

The banshee didn’t seem to hear them. Their voices couldn’t compete with the noise she created.

Brigit took to throwing rocks at her. While they passed harmlessly through her body, it did get her attention. The banshee drifted down to hover a few feet above the ground.

Brigit, who had seen many scary things during her childhood in the Perilous Realm, did not flinch from meeting the bloodstained weeping woman’s gaze.

Look, banshee, there have been complaints.

The fae’s mouth formed an O in agonized surprise.

I must issue my prophecies, sobbed the banshee. It’s part of who I am—my mission.

Her chest swelled as she took a deep breath to start another scream. Brigit interjected hastily, We heard what you said. That didn’t sound very dire. Since you aren’t here to issue a warning about an imminent death, why are you here?

Logan avoided the banshee’s gaze by looking down at the toes of his sneakers. His bard magic let him know the truth from the banshee’s spoken words. She’s lonely.

Lonely? Brigit repeated Logan’s word in surprise. All of this, the young woman waved a hand in an emphatic circle over her head, because you’re lonely?

The banshee’s wail was mournful, but not as piercing. Brigit almost laughed at her attempt to scream a polite explanation. It made for a weird effect.

The ó Conchobhair family will not suffer another loss for me to announce until Sean turns 84. What am I supposed to do until then? I’m bored staying on the moors back home!

She turned a weeping face back to the dormitory windows and gave a pitiful shriek at the anonymous glass, On Wednesday, you will meet a girl who will break your heart!

Logan said to Brigit, I thought banshees only predicted death? I don’t get it.

The banshee turned back to them. Bowing her head, the red hair obscured her face, as she explained.

Traditionally, banshees favored death. But in these times, women don’t die in childbirth, burying their bairns year after year. Science helps them live longer. I’ve had to get creative.

Her voice cracked with sorrow. As a prognostic, a fae Cassandra, I can foretell all significant events. No matter how small or large, I know it before it happens.

I’m sorry about that, said Brigit, but you can’t haunt the campus. Some of us have tests to take and studying to do. We need our sleep.

She needs a job, Logan pointedly said to Brigit. An occupation to keep her busy. Something like what we do.

Nodding her head in sudden agreement, the dryad asked the banshee, You seem pretty good at predicting unpleasant things. Does that work only for the O’Connor bloodline? Or can you do it for anyone?

The banshee mused over Brigit’s question. Her red eyes went unfocused as she intoned solemnly, Your mother arrives soon.

The prognosticator turned to Logan, but he held up a hand to stop her. Hm, no thanks. I’m good. I’d rather my future come as a surprise.

Brigit fished in her jean pocket for a stiff piece of card stock. The last time she visited the chancellor’s office, she had swiped a stack of his business cards.

Here, take this, she raised the card high so the banshee’s thin hand could take it. Meet me tomorrow at Chancellor Bandemer’s office. He can find something more interesting for you to do than wailing over the loss of someone’s cookie stash.

◦

After convincing the banshee to leave, Logan and Brigit walked back to the main bus stop on campus. Due to the restrictions on vehicles allowed in Geheimetür, the bus service still made stops every hour despite the late hour.

Brigit could open a portal, using the Perilous Realm as a stepping stone to easily travel the distance between the campus and their apartment. In the past she avoided doing so in order to prevent her parents discovering her. But now, she didn’t because it made Logan uneasy.

Since getting ill after a visit to her parents, Logan was hesitant to experience traveling the portals of the Perilous again. Brigit was committed to changing this attitude of his. Her thoughts on how best to do this were interrupted by her companion.

Now is the time for magic to happen.

Startled, Brigit exclaimed, What?

Don’t you feel it? The wind is kicking up. Something is in the air.

Brigit gazed up to the sky, noting the full moon. There was a breeze on her cheek, and a quiet to a landscape vacant of traffic and people. The world seemed to be holding its breath. Magic indeed.

There’s a ring around the full moon. That means it will snow in three days. Logan told her, but Brigit was distracted and didn’t hear.

She took off, shouting, Hey! What do you think you’re doing?

Being a runner, Logan was at Brigit’s side in a moment. She pointed ahead of their path, Some guy was shoving something down in the trash. There! Do you see him? He just took off!

Backward Pawn

By the time Logan and Brigit reached the bus stop shelter, the shadowy person running from the scene was long gone. But instead of pursuing him, Brigit started to investigate the trash barrel.

He acted sketchy. Secretive, she told Logan. I’m sure he put something in here!

She removed the trash lid and dumped it on the ground. It gave a deep ring when it struck the concrete sidewalk.

See! I told you! On top of the garbage was a crumpled paper sack. Brigit’s sensitivity to the magical aura of other fae alerted her. Whatever fae it is, it’s weak, dying.

Logan picked up the bag with both hands and Brigit cautioned him, Gently! Gently! Put it on the ground, not the concrete.

Logan peeled back the paper to reveal a body, covered in black fur. It was about the size of a shoebox.

It’s a puppy! he told her. Brigit, her hand hovering above the body, said, I think it’s a True Beast, like Jib!

Kneeling on the ground, Logan laid his hand on the puppy’s rib cage. It took several moments before he felt the slight rise of its chest. He reassured Brigit, Still alive, but just.

Wood magic has some limited healing powers. It’s not my usual talent but let me see—

Brigit let out a worried sigh. Her mother had forced her to study healing energies, but Brigit lacked true skill. Fae magic was sorted into seven types: wood, metal, stone, water, wind, flame, and time/memory. Water magic, like her friend Celia had, was the better affiliation for such work.

Well, Brigit would see what she could do.

Settling herself cross-legged on the hard ground, she placed one of her hands on the dog’s head and another flat on the grass.

As a dryad, her wood magic was connected to the earth and growing things. She quieted her breathing and used a visualization meditation taught to her by a fae tutor.

Closing her eyes, Brigit expanded her magical senses to touch the aura of the small dog Logan cradled in his lap.

In surprise, her eyes opened and her hand flew to cover the area of her left breast. Under her coat, the leaf printed into her skin was pulsing.

The leaf was a twice given gift: it came to Logan from the grove of her home in the Perilous Realm when he had played a truth game with her father. Later, Logan had given it to her as a heart-gift.

Two summers ago, Brigit had slept with it and overnight it had dissolved into the dryad’s body. Only a silver outline of the leaf’s pattern remained on her brown skin to show where it had become one with her.

From the leaf, Brigit was given the image in her mind of a plant she knew well.

What’s wrong?

Hand shaking, Brigit told Logan, The leaf says the Black Dog is poisoned. With wolf’s-bane.

The three returned to the apartment quickly via the Perilous Realm. Realizing the necessity of getting home swiftly, Logan didn’t squawk about the shortcut.

Rummaging under her bed, Brigit found the unicorn cup her father had gifted her last year. Its pearly surface was smooth to the touch, well-worn by generations of fae queens who had used it.

A unicorn horn was able to turn any liquid into a healing draft. Brigit was hopeful that it would help their patient. When the horn’s water bubbled, signaling a change, they rubbed the water on the dog’s gums. Next, they raised the puppy’s head and gave him a few drops.

Not too much! Logan said, We don’t want the water getting into his lungs by mistake.

Logan’s cousin, Evelyn, had interned summers at a veterinarian’s office, and he had often helped her with sick patients. He massaged the dog’s throat to get him to swallow.

They watched and waited. Slowly, the dog’s labored breathing eased and the color of his gums turned from white to a healthier pink. With the crisis past, the three fell into an exhausted sleep an hour before sunrise.

Brigit woke up abruptly. Her breathing was shallow as if she had been running for some time. She was clammy and shivering.

Feeling a bit panicked, it took her a moment to shake off her dream and realize where she was. She was still in Logan’s bed at the apartment, the rescued fae dog cuddled between them. She reached out a hand, and saw that it was trembling.

She calmed herself and rested her fingers on the puppy’s fur, scanning the Black Dog’s aura. His magical aura was a more healthy shade, though still not as deep a color as she would like.

Each fae had an aura, its vibrancy related to the being’s health and type of magic. Most of the time, Brigit could use it to determine the being’s magical affiliation. For instance, the puppy was clearly a Black Dog. Brigit’s discerning power had failed her only once, when she met with a Doppelgänger.

He was breathing better; his rib cage rose and fell in a healthy rhythm. He was probably still recovering, but seemed to be on the path to wellness. Still, Brigit planned on getting him a proper checkup with a professional.

Looking over the dog’s head, she saw Logan was still deeply asleep. She took a moment to examine her roommate’s face: those ridiculously long eyelashes, and that wild lock of hair that refused to be tamed.

On the surface, he seemed the same guy she met two years back, but something was different. Oh, he was still that quiet, self-deprecating human, still curious, although not (thanks to her) as naive about the fae.

She examined him with a critical eye as he slept. The physical changes were easier to see. Logan was leaving his youth behind. The tall, almost gangly form of a teenager was transforming into that of a man. His shoulders were broader and filled a t-shirt that was undoubtedly a bit tighter. His jawline had sharper angles. Was he taller?

But now there was a quiet to him she couldn’t figure out. A contemplative silence he would lapse into when others were talking. A way his eyes would change as if they were holding back secrets.

Logan still hadn’t told her all of what happened when they were separated by the griffins last fall. After she had recovered, Brigit discovered the monster vanquished, and the librarian Burkhalter in the hospital.

He had given her the briefest of explanations before changing the subject. In the months that followed there seemed to be no way to bring it back up again for he clearly did not want to speak of it.

She suspected it had something to do with his bard talent. He’d always been reluctant to discuss his powers, preferring that others would forget he could discern truth from lies. His reticence made her suspicious.

Brigit reached out to touch Logan’s cheek but stopped when she noticed the time on the digital clock on the bedside table. She needed to get to her appointment with the banshee.

She slid off the bed, trying to ease off the mattress without shaking it. On bare feet, Brigit crossed the living room to her bedroom.

She was still in her clothes from last night, so Brigit hastily changed into a clean hoodie and a pair of jeans. After doing her hair and brushing her teeth, she headed to the kitchen wondering what the brownie had for breakfast.

What she