Mason opened his eyes in the âextreme challenge, mortalâ dungeon with Claws gripped in his hands. The first thing he saw was the cold, marble floors of a huge entrance hall. He expected danger from every direction. He was like his now mocked catch phraseâready for anything. Ready to suffer. To kill. To survive.
âWelcome to the court of the Unseelie. Can I take your coat, orâŠyourâŠarmor, I guess. Is that part of you? Hmm. I could at least bring you a drink!â
He looked up to find a floatingâŠtray. With a face. It resembled Blakeâs familiar, some kind of flying servant construct. Beyond it was a beautiful, sculpture-covered entrance hall, with stairs leading up and down, and huge doors to another room beyond.
He put his Claws away with a sigh, ignoring the construct as he wandered towards the doors. It was fair to say a âcivilized greetingâ wasnât how he expected this to start.
âOh. NoâŠwait! You have to be announced! Iâll get in all kinds of trouble!â
âTrouble with who.â Mason stopped at the door and held a hand in front of the latch.
âWith the princess,â said the construct, voice wavering with fear. âYouâre expected, of course. Iâd be happy to inform her youâve arrived. She likes to do things properly.â
He shook his head, fighting the impatience and ridiculous idea of being kind to a construct inside a construct made by a robot.
âJust be quick about it.â
He crossed his arms and glared as the little creature zipped through a kind of doggy door. Eyes closed, he focused on anything he could hear inside, not getting much except quiet, murmuring voices at the end of another large room. One with Nature came up almost blank. Whatever was in this place, not much of it was considered âaliveâ. Or else it blocked his power.
The construct returned with a wide smile, then the huge doors creaked open to reveal another pair of giant golems or elementals that looked made of ice.
âKing Mason Wolf, Champion of Cerebus!â the little construct announced.
He took another steadying breath before walking through, sort of hoping those elementals tried to crush him. When they stepped aside, he frowned and walked down a blue carpet towards the opposite end of the hall.
Several of the white-skinned and dark-haired male âelvesâ sat in ornate chairs in a semi-circle at the foot of a raised dais, attending a monarch sitting on a throne above. He assumed this was the âprincessââa woman covered completely in a purple dress that belonged on the Red Queen from Alice in Wonderland.
She stared at Mason with completely blue, glowing eyes. Her face was attractive, if slightly alien, with features much like Naya and the other elves except with skin the pallor of a corpse.
He walked towards her without concern, muscles twitching and ready, senses scanning everything. He was prepared for the golems to charge. For the elves to attack. For magic to spring out of the walls.
In fact, he hoped it did.
âYou are everything mother promised and more,â the princess said from her throne, still staring. âWhat sort of man would
willingly
enter this place?â
Her voice was surprisingly light and pleasant andâŠalive. Heâd expected something more like the goddess. Some kind of blast of icy wind that howled through his ears.
âA man who wants power,â he said, walking closer.
He hid his smile as the attendees started to shift and squirm with poorly concealed fear. Even the princess seemed unsure what heâd do, though he could sense the many layers of mana and probably protective spells around her.
âI am Lilith, princess of the winter palace. And power is something I can offer.â The princess quirked her head and crossed her legs, enough of the purple dress shifting to show bare, snow-white skin. âBut you will have to earn it. â
Despite the delightful show of flesh, he somehow doubted she meant in the bedroom. Though it was a pleasant fantasy. He took a breath and gestured for her to go on.
âWith theâŠ
ascendance
of your sire, the spring and summer fey creatures are becoming unruly. They forget the rules. The boundaries. They test my motherâs claims.â
Mason didnât mind the sound of that. Beating on a few fey creatures was something heâd felt was a long time coming. Spring, summer, fall, he really didnât give a shit. The wild creatures of the fey plane seemed like they could use a bit more fear of him as a general principle.
âI assume you want me to
enforce
said rules and boundaries.â
The princess nodded, then gestured for one of her attendants. The man rose and came forward with an empty, glass cylinder.
âThis contained a magic rose that blooms even in winter. I like to look at it every morning cycle on the prime. But it was stolen from my garden. By a hag, run off to her disgusting little swamp. I want it back. I want the hagâs
head
. And I want the head of her son, as a warning.â
The âice princessâ didnât look quite as attractive when she was asking for heads. Mason took a deep breath, again wishing for some simpleminded battle to the death. Preferably with undead and constructs, or something else he wouldnât feel even slightly bad about killing.
âThe hagâs head seemsâŠletâs say harsh but fair, considering how stupid something would have to be to steal from you. But her son? That doesnât sound like justice.â
Apparently the ice princess was even less attractive when she didnât get her way. Her face curled with rage, hands gripping the arms of her throne as she leaned forward and stared like her eyes would bludgeon him into submission.
He wasnât surprised when the magic struck. It looked like all his titles and resistances were gearing up until âChampion of Cerebusâ pinged with a soft green light, and the magic came to an abrupt halt. He decided to just stand there and wait for the princess to calm down. It took a minute.
âIt refuses me!â she shrieked. âIn
my
realm? How
dare
it?â
The sweet, feminine voice was replaced by what heâd expected. Wind howled across the throne room. The pale, elven attendants covered their faces and hunkered down like penguins. The little construct squealed and raced for its doggy door. Mason tongued at some meat caught in his teeth.
Lilith shouted some more crazy shit about freezing his blood and snapping off his limbs, making a sculpture of his corpse in her doorway.
âYeah,â he said, waving a hand. âSo how about a compromise? Iâll bring you the whole hag. You can do all that freezing stuff you like. You get your flower and make her an ice scarecrow. I get a reward. We part as friends, and everyone in the fey sees it. Howâs that sound?â
Lilith kept on giving him that death stare until the wind died. Then just like that, her face transformed back into the pleasant princess. She sat back in her throne and smiled, rubbing her legs together.
âFriends. I think Iâd like that. And your mercy does you credit, princeâthe sons of spring can afford such pleasantries. I would enjoy having the hag alive. But you will find it no simple task. I mean no offence, but you are young and inexperienced. The hagâs lair may prove difficult, even with all yourâŠgreat strength.â
Lilithâs eyes raked his body as she smiled.
âWell.â Mason shrugged. âThatâs my problem. Just tell me where to find her, Iâll do the rest.â
Lilith raised a hand, and a swirling blue portal opened not far from the dais.
âIn her arrogance, the hag did not hide. She knew I would
smell
her presence long after she stole my rose. She knows I would never step foot in her lair, far from my power, and so close to hers.â
The princess stood from her throne and came down the steps, purple robe flowing with magic. It looked almost see through for tiny moments, so quick Mason was hardly sure heâd seen.
Her heels clacked across the marble as she approached him, blue orbs locked on his eyes. She moved like a creature hardly troubled by physics. Like she might cross the room in a blink. She came close enough to touch, then leaned forward and
sniffed
him with a deep inhale. She closed her eyes and smiled.
âThe flower. The hag. And dinner in my private chambers.
Then
you will have your reward, prince of spring. My chef is excellent, I promise you will not regret it.â
He wasnât so sure about that. But the challenge of the woman appealed. And he wasnât afraid of her. His resistance had already proved more than capable of handling her magic.
If âprivate dinnerâ really meant âweird, fantasy creature sexâ, a small concern about what Demi might think flashed through his mind. Not because sheâd be jealous, per se. Sheâd already demonstrated
that
wasnât a problem.
But this
was
a sort of a divine representation of the goddess sheâd rejected. He couldnât see why it would matter, though maybe it would annoy her somehow. Still, if it made the princess happy, and he made it quick,
and
kept his mouth shut about it. It was âprobablyâ just a dinner.
âTime is a luxury I rarely have. But I could spareâŠan evening.â
Lilith smiled with red lips, color exaggerated on her pale skin. She scanned him again from head to toe.
âBargain agreed, then. Good luck, prince. I eagerly await your return.â
[Dungeon objective: Capture Night Hag Moritha alive. Return her and the Winter Rose to Princess Lilith. Reward: A divine artifact.]
Seeing the reward made an authentic smile very easy. He turned and walked for the portal, wondering what the hell a hag lair was. But it hardly mattered. Heâd go in, and come out with his prey.
As he stepped to the portal, he gave the ice princess one last look, trying not to imagine what was under that dress.
If it was weird, fantasy creature sex, maybe he could spare
one
night. Time did move slower in the feyâŠ