The Blood Oath

The last box crashed to the floor with a hard clank, making me wince at the possibility of having just broken something important. I sighed, too tired to open the box and survey any damage and just left it. The sun had long since set, and even with every light on in the house, this place was alien and creepy. My uncle had been a weird sort. He collected odds and ends, books of different folklore, bottles of unidentifiable body parts big and small, and just about anything else you could imagine. To say he was quite obsessed with what he generally referred to as “the Fae” was an understatement. His house reflected that obsession with wall-to-wall hand-drawn diagrams, notes, books, bugs, and of course an array of dirty dishes left sporadically where he had placed them. We had not been particularly close but I did spend three summers with him a long time ago. Back then, his work had fascinated me, though to be fair what child wouldn’t have been fascinated by the idea that the Fae exist? After that third summer my parents never allowed me to go back, said they didn’t want my uncle filling my head with nonsensical ideas of fairies. This led to me attending more science camps that I could shake a stick at, heavily influencing my decision to attend med school for general practice.

Ten years have passed since that last summer, three months since he died, and only two weeks before a package had arrived for me from him. To my shock he had left me his home where I spent those three summers, twenty-thousand dollars to “get started”, and a small black notebook. The family, who normally fought over everything, didn’t even bat an eyelash when they learned of this. I almost turned down the offer altogether, but something didn’t feel right about tossing something that had been clearly important to him. Plus, who doesn’t need twenty-thousand dollars?

My brow crinkled as I pondered upon the wording used with the money. Get started? With what exactly? I hadn’t even bothered to open up the notebook yet and view its contents, could it possibly be a notebook for stocks? That would explain why there was a lump sum handed to me. I sighed again and looked about the old house. This place wasn’t going to become less creepy by itself and my stomach was beginning to growl at me for food.

I started in the kitchen and dining room. Everything else would have to wait until tomorrow, but a dirty kitchen was absolutely unacceptable. By the time I set my steaming hot bowl of ramen onto my now cleared and clean dining table, it was pitch black outside. My uncle’s house was somewhat remote as he had built it in the middle of sixty acres of wood. My parents had hated the “country-ness” to it, only staying long enough to drop me off and kiss me goodbye. I loved the sounds, nature’s lullaby. From great beautiful owls to small singing crickets, the night sounds always were so comforting to me. You couldn’t get this kind of thing living in a concrete jungle. So why couldn’t I hear those sounds now?

There wasn’t a single hoot, chirp, creak, or bump. It was like the world had taken a collective breath and was now holding it. The hairs on my arms raised as the sense of wrongness grew. Things like this only happened in horror and zombie movies right before---

My knees hit the table as I jerked in response to loud banging at the front door. My heart hammered in my chest as I got up slowly. There shouldn’t be any visitors, and the house was way too far off the road for someone to just happen to wander up and find it.

“Who is it?” I called as I grabbed the first heavy object that brushed my fingers. It was only a paperweight but it was better than nothing. The knocking continued but no one answered. I tried again to ask who it was this time standing just in front of the door.

“Open up! Please its urgent!” A timbered voiced hissed quietly behind the wood door.

I took a deep breath and gathered my nerves and opened the door so that just my right eye could be seen through the crack. There were four of them. The two in the front were tall and hooded, the two hooded ones in the rear carried a fifth cloaked person between them.

“Let us in. By the promise of the Blood Oath, we call for aid,” that timbre voice rang with such authority and arrogance that I crinkled my nose.

“Listen I don’t know what you’re talking about but this isn’t a hospital. If someone’s injured take them to a hospital, not here.”

They moved so fast I had no time to adjust and fell flat on my butt as the two in front barged their way inside the house. The two carrying the other person flowed into the room behind them and quickly made their way to my dining room table. They laid their cargo carefully on top of the table while the other two began yelling for my uncle to appear.

“My uncle is dead and who the hell are you people! This is my house!” I seethed getting up off the floor and brushing the dust off my backside.

The one with the timbre voice spoke again, “Caine is dead?”

“Yes,” I answered irritated, “and I don’t appreciate you—”

“The book?”

I shook my head, the question catching me off-guard, “Excuse me, what?”

“The notebook that Caine had, he gave it to you, yes?”

“Yes, but what does that have to do with you barging in here?”

The four cloaked figures all looked at each other and nodded, then in unison they all removed their hoods. My breath hitched in my throat. After spending three summers with my uncle there was no mistaking what I was looking at. As a little girl I had made stories, drawn pictures, and read countless books about the High Ones. These people were Fae.

The timbre voiced one bowed slightly, “I am Hundrogarth, of the Queen’s Wolves. We come seeking your uncle’s promise made under the Blood Oath.”

“What is that?! I don’t know anything about a Blood Oath!” my voice was beginning to climb in pitch.

“Your uncle happened to stumble upon the Fae by accident. He begged and pleaded to study our people and our magicks. It is forbidden that mortals know of our existence; such is the promise made a millennia ago when our races warred. The Queen made an exception for him though. He was allowed to study us, to learn about us and our magicks. In return, he promised that he and his bloodline would become the first doctors of the Fae. He would treat our ill and wounded in return for knowledge and payment to continue his studies. The fact that you now hold his notebook is proof that he has chosen another of his bloodline to succeed him. You must heal our Queen.”

His words hit me like a ton of bricks, there was so much to pick apart. The pieces fell into place as I recounted his books and ramblings, not to mention the twenty-thousand to “get started”. I couldn’t do this; did he expect me to just pick up where he left off? True, I did become a doctor, but this was unreal. I didn’t know the first thing about how to treat one of their kind. To top it all off they wanted me to treat royalty! There was a Queen Fae laying on my dining room table!

“I never made this promise to you, what if I told you to get out?”

“Then we see this as the Oath broken and we will destroy your kind. The humans may have turned us into cute fairy tales, but I think you know what nightmares hide in the darkness. Heal our Queen, or we kill all of your kind starting with you.”

I don’t know when they all pulled weapons out, but the sight of glinting sharp metal was enough for me give in. I made my way to the table with all four pairs of eyes carefully watching me. I caught sight of the little black notebook at the edge of the table and picked it up as I made my way to look at my patient. Her face was ethereal and beautiful even if her skin was ashen and sickly. Black veins traced across her face and her breathing was wet and ragged, green bubbles popped in the corner of her mouth as she exhaled those labored breaths.

My mind went blank, there was nothing like this anywhere that I read or was taught. I was more likely to kill her than to save her. Inhaling deeply to calm myself, I opened up the notebook, my uncle might have left a clue of what to do in it. I couldn’t help but smirk at the yellowed paper written with sardonic words clearly written to me.

So, you’ve met Hundrogarth?

It’s probably the only reason why you’ve opened this book.

More than likely he’s spouting about the Blood Oath and saving his Queen, right?

I’d start with page 94 “Compendium of the Queen”. I came up with the name myself!

P.S. They all like pickles.