The Tree Maiden: The Legend of Iski Flare, #5

By Georgina Makalani

The Faeries have lost a maiden, and they believe Iski is the only one to find her.

 

For the first time, the Faeries have come to Iski Flare for help. The Tree Maiden is missing, and they cannot reach her. But he isn't enthusiastic to head out on this adventure, as the Faeries rarely tell him what he needs to know.

 

But feeling lost and alone, Iski is ready for the distraction. As he searches for the girl, he discovers more lies than truths. And he might be too distracted to be of any real assistance to anyone.

 

If he does manage to find The Tree Maiden, will he have the skills the Faeries believe he has to save her?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Georgina Makalani
• Release date: Jun 16, 2017
• ISBN: 9780994513182

Book preview

Iski Flare ran his fingers through his hair and sighed at the old battered hat on the table. He slowly lifted the ale to his lips and took a gulp. He was tired. So many months of searching and there was no word, no sign, no hint that Flare was alive. The dark tavern was the last place he would want to try for information, but he was starting to understand his father’s need to lose himself. Three other patrons sat alone in their own dark corners; two old men similar in age and build talked in hushed tones at one of the few tables in the open room that smelt of stale beer and pipes.

Iski lifted the cup to his lips again just as the tavern door squeaked open, a child silhouetted in the doorway. He sat the cup down and watched as she walked straight up to the bar.

Even in the dim light her white blonde hair almost shone. Her simple dress was worn and tattered and her feet bare. Iski opened his mouth and then closed it. He wasn’t sure he wanted to be seen.

The barman, a broad, young man with a fluffy beard, scowled over the bar. What ya want?

Reaching out slowly and confidently, she touched the mark on a large jug on the bar, red with a black dragon’s head.

The barman huffed.

She dipped her hand into her pocket and produced a large gold coin, his eyes followed it as she placed it on the bar. He slid it across the surface with one finger, picked it up and tested it between his teeth. Without a word, he pocketed the coin and thumped a cup down. Still watching the child, he uncorked the jug and poured slowly. The sweet scent of the brew filled the room and the patrons paused in their drinking or talking to watch the cup pushed across to the girl.

She stepped forward, lifted it to her lips and drank deeply. When she sat it down, she wore a grin and wiped the froth from her lips with the back of her arm. The patrons continued their watch as she turned from the bar and surveyed the room.

Iski found himself smiling as her old eyes found his, and he nodded once.

We don’t like your type in here, someone muttered as she made her way across the room.

She stood before Iski and he indicated a chair. I wouldn’t expect to see faery folk in a tavern.

You are him, she said. The man they call Iski Flare.

He nodded.

We could not find you amongst the trees and we need your help.

Iski took another gulp of the ale. I haven’t been able to find what I’m looking for there, he said, his voice sharp and accusing, but she didn’t blink.

We need you, she said, again.

You want to play me, he muttered. You tell me what you think I want to hear, but you don’t give me any truth.

Truth is not always easy to define.

Iski took a large gulp of the ale and stared across the table at her.

You are the only one to help us, she said, sitting forward.

I’m sure there are others you can call on.

She was one who helped, but now she needs us.

Iski sighed and looked at the ale. The bitter taste was starting to sit heavy in his stomach. He shook his head slowly.

You must help us.

There are faeries everywhere, he said. Surely you can use your cunning ways to help yourselves and your friend.

She sat back and crossed her arms. Her blue eyes almost glowed with the anger and disappointment that emanated from her little body. Two of the patrons stood suddenly and left.

She has become separated from us, from our magic. Her anger dissipated and her sadness filled the room.

The last man sitting on his own sucked in a sob and as he headed for the door, the two men sitting together stood and followed him. The faery leant forward, her arms crossed and her elbows on the table, she raised her blue eyes to Iski and he leaned back.

We cannot reach her, she said softly. Iski felt the weight of the words pushing down on him. We fear that further attempts will only put her in more danger. She must be saved and you must help us.

He nodded once. Maybe it was the distraction he needed. Where do you think she might be? he asked, hoping he didn’t sound as defeated as he felt.

You are the only man to find her for us, she whispered.

He shook his head. I’ve agreed to try. Where am I looking and who am I looking for? he asked sternly.

They call her the Tree Maiden and she had travelled to the south.

To the south is not very specific.

It is beyond our reach, she said and lifting the cup with two hands, gulped down the last of the contents. She is beyond our reach, she whispered when she put it down.

Loss and grief radiated from the faery overwhelming