Entry 49: Quinn's court

by Hayley Thomas

Dear Diary,

With two days to wait until the full moon and our long-awaited chance to visit the local fey court, I spent the time wisely. Knowing we’d be leaving Wolf’s Rest for a while, I made my rounds—checking in on the people of Ravensfield, as well as those who had already settled here. A word of advice here, a bit of healing there. Making sure that, at least for now, things were as they should be.

As night fell on the second day, we made our way to the ruins of the old church.

There had been some debate on whether to bring a gift—an offering to ensure we didn’t offend the fey. In the end, Liliana chose a bottle of perfume crafted from her garden’s rarest flowers. A simple but elegant token of goodwill.

As we approached, the ruins were alive with strange, flickering lights, the faint notes of a distant melody drifting toward us on the breeze. It was an eerie, otherworldly sight—one that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end.

But the moment we stepped inside, the music stopped. The lights vanished.

A massive troll emerged from behind the ruined fountain, its thick fingers wrapped around a tree trunk, repurposed as a crude but devastatingly effective club. It regarded us with small, beady eyes before speaking in a deep, gravelly voice that rumbled through the empty space:

“Stop. You are not welcome here.”

Gal stepped forward, shoulders squared, voice steady.

“We are the lords of this land,” he declared, “and we have come to pay our respects to the fey lord who resides here.”

I’ll admit, I cringed a little. A touch too bold, perhaps? But I held my tongue—if honeyed words were the price of entry, so be it.

The troll considered us for a long, heavy moment before finally giving a slow nod.

“You may enter,” it rumbled. “But leave your weapons in the fountain.”

None of us were foolish enough to argue. One by one, blades, bows, and shields were placed into the fountain The troll didn’t bother to check, though—so I kept my dagger. Just in case.

As we ascended to the upper level, the air shimmered with movement. Tiny fey darted about, their laughter like chimes on the wind. Quicklings—blurs of motion barely visible to the naked eye—raced between the broken pillars, while meerlocks, small ant-like fey, skittered along the stonework, watching us with twitching antennae.

One of the quicklings finally broke away from the flurry of motion, stepping forward with an air of importance.

“I am Genlamin,” he declared, voice sharp and fast, like the words were tripping over each other. “Welcome to the court of Lord Quinn.”

Gael once again took the lead, explaining our purpose, our intent.

Genlamin simply stared at us, unblinking, his head tilting slightly—then suddenly, his lips curled into a sharp, knowing grin.

“Well,” he said, amusement laced through his tone, “if you wish to stand before Lord Quinn, you must first prove yourselves. You must pass our tests.”

Typical fey. I could already sense the trickery at play. If there was one thing I had learned from past dealings with their kind, it was that no test was ever what it seemed. The king’s golem had been proof enough of that.

The first trial was deceptively simple. One of the meerlocks scurried forward, twitching nervously. Genlamin gestured toward it with a flourish.

“Throw a rock at the meerlock,” he said, his grin never faltering.

A test of cruelty? A test of obedience? Or something more insidious? The fey rarely played fair, and I had no doubt that whatever choice we made would be used against us.

Gael, ever the diplomat, stepped forward with a wry smile.

“No need to involve your little friend,” he said. “I’ll take its place.”

Alistan, never one to back down from a challenge, gave a small shrug, picked up a stone, and hurled it.

Mid-flight, the rock shimmered—transformed. What had been a harmless pebble became a gleaming dagger, striking Gael’s shoulder with a sharp thud.

A minor wound, easily treated. But the intent was clear.

A trick. A trap. A deception meant to lure us into striking a member of the court. Had we obeyed without question, it would have been seen as an act of aggression. A slight against Lord Quinn.

Exactly the kind of underhanded game I expected from the fey.

The fey all gasped in exaggerated horror, their tiny hands flying to their mouths, eyes wide with feigned shock.

“You smuggled weapons into the court?” Genlamin accused, his voice sharp with mock outrage. “A blatant insult to Lord Quinn!”

A blatant lie. And a transparent attempt to rid themselves of us through foul play.

Luckily, Gael and Alistan were quick to smooth things over, their combined diplomacy managing to steer the conversation away from the supposed offense. After a few tense moments, Genlamin let out a dramatic sigh and gave a theatrical shrug.
“Well then,” he said, “we move on to the second test. A test of intelligence.”

This was where Luke would shine. He was easily the smartest among us—if you didn’t count his sister. (Just teasing you, Luke.)

Before us, three doors shimmered into existence, each identical in appearance. Genlamin’s grin widened.

“You must step through one of these doors and survive,” he explained. “Each holds a different deadly trap.”

He pointed to each in turn.

“The first leads to a pool of lava. The second, to a cage of lions who have not been fed for five years. The third, to a drop into a pool of alligators.”

The answer was immediately clear to me. The lions, having gone unfed for five years, would be long dead. I glanced at Luke and saw the same realization flash across his face.

And yet, he hesitated.

Dealing with fey and their trickery made him second-guess the obvious answer. What if it was too obvious? What if there was some unseen trick?

In the end, I urged him not to overthink it.

Luke exhaled, nodded, and stepped toward the second door. As he pulled it open and stepped through, he found himself standing in a cage of bones—the skeletal remains of three long-dead lions scattered across the floor.

Satisfied, Genlamin clapped his hands together, his grin sharp with amusement.

“Well, well. You pass.”

With that, the doors shimmered and vanished, and we were granted passage deeper into the court—to Lord Quinn himself.

We crossed the courtyard and ascended the stairs, arriving at another open space. At first glance, it seemed empty. But in the shadows, I caught the telltale glint of sharp iron boots—redcaps, lurking and ready to strike if needed. The same redcaps that had assaulted our keep.

Other than them, the only things in the courtyard were three large rocks. Or rather, three fey disguised as rocks.

Gael offered a polite greeting to the room in general. At his words, one of the rocks unfolded, limbs stretching unnaturally as it shifted into its true form. A tall, sinewy fey with gnarled antlers and skin like aged bark.

“I am Lord Quinn,” he said smoothly. “And who might you be? May I have your names?”

Before Gael could foolishly offer his, I stepped forward.

Names have power. And giving one freely—especially to a fey who specifically asks to have it? A rookie mistake.

“You may call me Hayley,” I said pointedly. “But no, you cannot have my name.”

The others followed suit, carefully wording their introductions.

Once pleasantries were exchanged, Gael explained our purpose—that we were not here to impose rules or make demands, merely to visit the court and be good neighbors.

Lord Quinn tilted his head, clearly surprised. “I expected you to be… difficult.”

His tone made it clear that he had not heard flattering things about us. Chaos. Broken deals. Disruptions. I wisely held my tongue, though I swallowed a few choice words about what his fey had done to us. This was neither the time nor the place for that fight.

Satisfied, Lord Quinn let out a sharp whistle. Instantly, the music and lights returned, flickering into existence around us. The party was on again.

He invited us to join him for the night, to drink, dance, and revel in the fey’s endless festivities. The others were eager enough.

I stayed only ten minutes—just long enough to be polite—before excusing myself and heading back to the keep. We were leaving in the morning, and I had better things to do than waste the night partying with the very creatures who had once attacked our home.

Continue reading...

Entry one: The trials

Entry two: The bramble

Entry 3: Rosebloom

Entry 4: Hearts and Dreams

Entry 5: of ghosts and wolves

Entry 6: Hillfield and Deals with Fae

Entry 7: mysteries and pastries

Entry 8: The scarecrow ruse
6th of Lug, 121 Year of the Tree

Entry 9: A betrayal of satyrs
7th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 10: The fate of twins
8th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 11: Cursed twins
10th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 12: Loss and despair
11th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Hayley's rules to being a Witch

Entry 13: the price of safety
12th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 14: A golden cage and fiery tower
13th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 15: A trial by fire
14th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Entry 16: Keralon
15th of Lug, 121 year of the Tree

Letter to Luke 1

Letter to Luke 2

Letter to Luke 3

Letter to Luke 4

Letter to Luke 5

Letter to Luke 6

Entry 17: I shall wear midnight
1st of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 18: peace in our time
2nd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 19: Caern Fussil falls
3rd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 20: I see fire
4th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 21: Cultists twarted
10th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 22: Ravensfield
14th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 23: The Hollow Hill Horror
15th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 24: Burn your village
16th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 25: Ravensfield burns
17th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 26: There will be blood!
21st of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 27: A happy reunion
22nd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 28: The embassy ball
23rd of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 29: The fate of Robert Talespinner
24th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 30: A royal summons
28th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 31: of Dogville and Geese
29th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 32: A boggle named Pim
30th of Nuan, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 33: A deal broken
1st of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 34: The cost of doing what is right
2nd of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 35: A dish best served cold
9th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

entry 36: Cornu returns?
10th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 37: A letter from Amarra
11th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 38: The case of the (not) missing villagers
14th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 39: A curse broken
15th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 40: Into the Lorewood
18th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 41: Cabin in the Woods
19th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 42: Myrdin and Anaya
20th of Aran, 126 Era of the Tree

Entry 43: Into the Immerglade
21st of Aran, 127 Era of the Tree

Entry 44: A tale as old as time
22nd of Aran, 127 Era of the Tree

Entry 45: The truth
23rd of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 46: Luke's Ordeal
24th of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 47: The festival
26th of Aran, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 48: Trouble at the Cathedral
2nd of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 49: Quinn's court
4th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 50: onwards to Latebra Velora
5th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 51: Where is my cow?
6th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 52: Here be dragons
7th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 53: Dragon hoard with a side of scarabs
8th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 54: Leave the basilisks alone
9th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 55: Return to Ravensfield
10th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 56: The needs of the many...
11th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 57: Dreams of Sister Willow
12th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 58: wetlands be wet
13th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 59: Baron Perenolde
14th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 60: Talebra Velora and the lady Morenthene
15th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 61: Cypria
16th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 62: Dragon takes Knight
17th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 63: Return to Talebra Velora
18th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 64: Your presence is “requested”
19th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 65: I stand alone
20th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 66: A day of normalcy
21th of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 67: Into the Neverhold
22nd of Brigan, 128 Era of the Tree

Entry 68: The Warg King

Entry 69: Chased by birds

Entry 49: Quinn's court

Continue reading...

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