I Know Not (The Story of Fox Crow) by James Daniel Ross

specks of dirt hung suspended by fear and adrenaline in the air.
          Veiny, powerful muscles even made the air cry as the dull wood axe split it into invisible pieces. The guards-boy ducked and weaved between the paths of the steel death warrant, but he wasn’t looking into the future, simply captured in every second for fear it was his last. It would be his undoing.
          The ‘cap backed him to the log palisade of River’s Bend and struck to his left, burying the axe deeply in the wood. Theo stared at the dull metal head, pondering his near death for a second too long, and the redcap gathered the boy into its disgustingly strong grip. One hand on either one of his upper arms, the faerie drew him forward and roared like a lion into his face, and then leaned back with opened mouth preparing to bite. The thing leaned back, back, back…
          It would be his undoing, but not today.
          And then a flash of blackened steel severed one of the redcap’s wart strewn arms.
          Theo scrambled on his rear along the fence away from the thing trying to eat him. His wide eyes took in my merciless hand twirled into the redcap’s bloody mane, pulling back with all my might. I doubt he noticed the equally important knee planted in the small of the redcap’s back, which goes to show my genius largely goes unappreciated except by my victims. And who cares about impressing them? Who are they going to tell?
          He watched as the Phantom Angel rose and fell again as the other arm came up to strike at me. Another flood of black blood, another meaty thump as the limb struck the ground. Theo screamed as the fairy–thing continued to thrash and bite at every bit of nothing it could reach. I brought it around and kicked it to the side, sending it sprawling onto a chopping block. It flailed momentarily, trying to find purchase with the stumps of arms, before there was another dark flash and I used the Phantom to pin it face-down to the wood. Still it raved, still it screamed, as I moved heavily away and sat down on the grass, back against a nude apple tree.
          I flexed my aching hands and arms, wiped off a thread of black blood that had splashed across my face, and sighed. I heard Theodemar’s rapid breathing to my right, and a quick glance told me he was close to fainting.
          I had to yell to be heard, “Are you hurt?”
          “Aren’t you going to finish it?”
          My head turned left and right, but I honestly couldn’t tell what the hell he was talking about. “I said: Are you hurt?”
          “No!” but I didn’t think he was answering my question. He pressed both palms against his ears and sought to squeeze the unearthly screams of the dark fey I had unceremoniously stapled to the axe–scarred block. “Can’t you make it stop?”
          There was something desperate, pleading in his voice, and it moved a rare iota of pity inside of me. This poor boy was a month’s travel from home, further than he had ever been from the only place he had ever felt safe. Wherever the Lady Aelia’s domain lay, it was painfully obvious he had never so much as touched a riot, uprising, or battle. It must be a very boring place for a castle guard. Lucky boy .
          I felt an echo from inside when I gazed at the terror evident in his eyes. It took a full minute to yank the axe from the wall, but only a second to turn the bent, nicked head to a more deadly purpose. The axe came to a halt midway through the beast’s skull, but it was enough for it to die. The rest of its last scream came out between dead lips like a bladder being squeezed. After two more strikes I was confident enough to yank the Angel from its torso and sit back down. I sat there breathing for what seemed like a long time, just letting the rush of the Beast go, burying the relish with which I had done my business.
          Like a wounded animal, Theo crept forward toward the gray lump