Tin (Faeries of Oz, #1)

by Candace Robinson

blades extended from the back of his wrist, previously hidden beneath his bracers, and curved over his hands like talons. When the fuck had he learned how to fight? His best efforts used to be flailing his limbs around. “I didn’t need help.” Tin wiped his chin with the back of his hand, smearing the splatter of blood. Crow stepped over a Wheeler still twitching on the ground. With a heavy sigh, Crow turned around and dealt a final blow through his neck, then headed straight for the front door. “I wasn’t helping you, you ignoramus.”

“Holy shit,” Crow said around a cough. Tin narrowed his watering eyes and charged inside. “Dorothy! Dorothy, where are you?”

“Damn,” Crow wheezed through his mask. “It doesn’t look like anyone’s been here in years.”

“I was supposed to bring Dorothy here,” Tin said in a rushed breath. There were no footprints on the dusty floor, the cobwebs intact. Something wasn’t right. “Langwidere was supposed to be here. Lion said… But… I don’t understand. They should be here.”

“What the hell?” Tin demanded. One of Crow’s hands dug into his hair, grinding Tin’s cheek into the rough edge of the broken glass. The iron prevented it from gouging his face in half while the kelpie scales on his clothing stopped the sharp points of Crow’s talons from digging into his ribs. “Give me one reason I shouldn’t gut you right here,” Crow growled. Tin gripped the edge of the case and attempted to throw himself backward to gain the upper hand. Crow’s talons only shifted higher. “What are you doing?” Tin roared. The movement scratched his bottom lip on a jagged edge. “Let me up, jackass.”

Crow’s breath was hot on his ear. “Lion hired you to bring my daughter to Langwidere?” Shit. Tin stilled, letting the pain of his wounds sink in. He deserved this. More than this. “If it means anything, I changed my mind the night I overheard you in the brothel.” “You fucked a nymph and decided not to murder my daughter? How is that helping your case?” “I didn’t. Fuck the nymph, I mean. I was going to, but then I heard you…” The words tumbled out of Tin before he could stop them. When his mind finally caught up to his mouth, he decided to keep going. If this was it and Crow killed him, at least he would’ve died with someone knowing

the truth. “I didn’t want you or anyone else to take her from me. When she woke up, I planned on sending her home. Or letting her stay and protecting her. I don’t know, Crow. We didn’t get to discuss it because the next morning she was gone. But Langwidere wasn’t going to touch her, I swear it.” Tin stopped short of saying he cared for Dorothy. It had to be clear to Crow regardless, and he was still working out exactly what feelings meant. He’d never managed to get the hang of them the first time. “Dorothy’s the only one in Oz who would dare to show you compassion after you’ve killed a frien...

beating. “I see your heart has returned. But it doesn’t matter, Tin, because you’ve broken hers as much as you’ve broken my trust.” “Dorothy’s kindness broke my curse.” Tin sighed miserably. “She doesn’t know what Lion hired me for.” Crow shoved Tin deeper onto the broken glass as he released him. Tin sagged to the floor, defeated, and Crow kicked his axe toward him. “She will know.” “You’re not going to kill me?” Tin wiped the blood trickling from his cut lip. “I deserve it.” “Oh, you will die,” Crow promised. “But f...

tell her the truth. After, Dorothy will decide your fate.” With that, Crow spun on his heel and stormed from the abandoned building. Tin climbed slowly to his feet, dragging his axe up behind him. Ah, he thought. There’s an emotion I remember. The shattering pain in his chest could be nothing other than heartbreak. When they found Dorothy, when Lion and Langwidere were dead and Dorothy heard of his betrayal, he hope...

Dorothy

“I can tell you’re awake now.” Lion’s voice boomed from above her, but she couldn’t see his face. “I can see your eyes twitching.” He adjusted her body so that his golden irises appeared in front of her. “I’m not doing this

because I don’t like you, Dorothy. Although, I don’t care for you anymore, not since you left. I’m doing this for Langwidere. Your head will look much better on her body, anyway. Until we get there, I’ll tell you stories, like you used to tell me to keep me calm.” Dorothy tried to scream again, but nothing came out. The stories Lion started to tell her weren’t ones as she’d told him from Grimms’ Fairy Tales. These were stories that truly sickened her, because they were real. “I began collecting heads for Langwidere years ago. She tested me the first time in her old home, where I was given the opportunity to decapitate a female she had tied up in another room. I completed the task, and you know what? It felt good—more than good—especially

hallucinations were starting—of that she was certain. The rapture was coming, and she feared there would be no turning back. She was going to become a faerie fruit addict—deranged like the man who’d attacked her on the yellow brick road, or insane like Oz. Yearning and yearning for each precious bite of fruit while it blackened her teeth and tickled her insides. She would never be able to think clearly again—she’d be positively mad like the Mad Hatter from her favorite childhood story.

“Locasta wasn’t lying. She spoke the truth about you,” And instead of coming after her with his sword, the coward took off running in the opposite direction.

She didn’t know where in the South she was exactly. But she did know Lion wasn’t with Glinda or Crow now. He was with Langwidere. She couldn’t go back to Tin because he was trying to bring her to this bitch who took heads for her own sick pleasure. And she didn’t know which path to follow on the yellow brick road to get to Glinda.

The top of his head came to her chest, and he appeared mostly goat-like, with horns, a tail, and hooves. Bright violet irises shone beneath the sun. “I need your help,” Dorothy said, trying not to sound desperate or look crazed as she gripped her machete. The satyr waved her hurriedly inside his home. She didn’t move toward it. “I’m not going to hurt you.” He sighed. “You shouldn’t be out here like this. It’s safe for us males but not the females, especially ones who look like you.” “What’s wrong with me?” she asked, deciding it was better to go inside in case Lion did choose to return and search for her. “There’s nothing wrong with you. Langwidere simply favors elves with pretty faces.

I’m sure you’ve already passed the grave markers. They all lost their heads because of her.” This Langwidere was starting to sound like the Headless Horseman from the Sleepy Hollow story, except she actually wore the heads. Dorothy shuddered at the thought.

mentioned Langwidere favors pretty elves, but I’m human.” His brow furrowed and his nose wrinkled. “You’re not human. You’re fae.” Dorothy froze, a cold feeling washing over her, spreading through her entire body. “Listen, I’m Dorothy Gale. I came here once before, and I’m human. Lion did something to me.” Her chest heaved up and down as her heart raced. “What did that fruit do to me?” “Um, let me get you some tea.” He stood from the table, picked up a tea kettle off the stove, and poured them both a cup. “I know who you are, but I don’t have the answers you’re searching for.”

“Can you please tell me how to get to Glinda’s from here?” she asked, taking another sip of the herbal tea, the drink sloshing in the cup as her hands vibrated. “By foot, it’s a few days’ journey from here—at the very bottom of the South in front of the mountains.” He paused, his expression grim. “However, I suggest going to one of the other territories instead. Glinda is a great leader and has been doing all she can to save the South, but Langwidere is growing stronger, more powerful.” “I still have to go. Glinda is a friend.” Dorothy needed to warn her about Lion and Tin, that they were traitors.

“Thank you… I’m sorry, I didn’t ask your name,” she said. “Tigue.” He smiled. “I’ve believed this entire time that Glinda would defeat Langwidere, but maybe she just needs your help. You are Dorothy Gale, after all, the one who took down the wickedest of them all.”

“You’ll be dead after we find Dorothy,” Crow seethed. “I can’t believe you would try to do something so foul to her.”

“It looks as though you’ll be the one losing your head,” she spat. “Not me.”

Tin

“If it’s my head you want,” he rasped, “it’s yours. I won’t fight you.” Confusion flickered through Dorothy’s expression. “What?” “It’s no less than I deserve.”

Dorothy paced away from him, then back, three times before turning her gaze to Crow. “He was going to kill me,” she told him as if to justify her actions. “Lion paid him to bring me to Langwidere so she could wear my head.” Crow nodded. “I recently became aware.” Tin shifted onto his knees. “I can explain.” “Explain?” she shouted. “What is there to explain? You were going to let them cut off my head! My head, Tin!”

“You’re as stone-hearted as you told me you were.” Tin wanted to tell her that he wasn’t—not anymore. That he could feel his heart beating in his chest again, and all the emotions that went along with it, but it didn’t matter. He’d messed up. “I wasn’t going to let Lion take you, not anymore,” he said quietly. “Please believe me.” “Believe you?” Dorothy laughed bitterly. “I was the only one who trusted you, but I see now it was foolish of me to do so.”

Dorothy’s eyes widened. “This isn’t your battle, Crow. Have you lost your mind?” Her hands flew to her mouth. “Oh no. You have, haven’t you?” Crow removed the mask from his face. “I haven’t lost my brain. In fact, I’ve expanded it with years of study. Something I’ve come to learn is that a little violence to save lives is better than pacifism that leads to hundreds of deaths.” “He’s not going to kill hundreds of people,” Dorothy grumbled, seemingly against her will. “Just me, apparently, and whoever got in the way of his payday.”

Crow pressed his lips into a tight line and retracted his talons. “As you wish.” Her shoulders slumped with exhaustion, the immediate danger gone. A smile broke across her face and she lunged at Crow. She wrapped her arms around his neck in the biggest hug. “It’s so good to see you.” “And you.” Crow returned the hug without hesitation. “I missed you.”

“Your glamour’s gone. You look like—” He quickly cleared his throat. “What happened?” “I don’t know… I had a glamour?” Her fingers skimmed the lines of her new face, then the tips of her pointed ears. “Lion found me. He said you were with Glinda, and Tin had told me we were going to Lion’s to help him, so I followed him. He tricked me into eating faerie fruit with numbing properties. When I regained use of my body, it had changed. Is … this an effect of the fruit?” “No, sweetheart.” Crow paused and fidgeted with the ropes hanging down his chest. “You’re fae. A changeling who was glamoured to live among humans.”

Tin exhaled impatiently. “If we’re having this conversation here, let’s cut straight to the point so we can get somewhere safe. Crow’s your father.” Both Crow and Dorothy’s eyes widened in shock. Tin ignored the jolt of guilt their expressions sparked. “Now that we’ve got it out in the open, we need to get the hell out of the South.” “You’re my father?” Dorothy asked in a hoarse whisper. Crow nodded, his throat bobbing. Had the bastard been planning on keeping it a secret? Too bad. “You were taken from your mother and I. Once the Wizard corrected my brain and I remembered, it felt wrong to keep you here. You were safer there with the family you’d been given to.”

“Taken? Who is my mother?” Dorothy whispered. “I was always told my parents were dead. Is she… Is she dead? She must not be if you’re here.” Crow swallowed hard. “Forgive me, but I’m not ready to tell you yet.”

“Let’s find somewhere to camp then. You look exhausted.” Crow spoke to Dorothy but shot Tin a scathing look. “After you rest, I’ll be happy to answer all your questions.” Dorothy nodded, appearing in shock, then jumped away from Crow. “We can’t go back to the East. We need to help Glinda. What if Lion tries to do something to her after tricking her?” “Glinda has been holding her own,” Crow soothed. “And she has guards. Lion won’t stand a chance on his own,” Tin agreed. “Our priority is keeping you safe.”

Crow continued answering Dorothy’s questions on what it meant to be fae.

She was now able to hear and see better. Move faster. Her body was more in tune with the world around them—something that Crow claimed might be overwhelming until she got used to it. She would age differently now. Immortality and all benefits. Maybe she inherited Crow’s gift of shifting, but it was too soon to try.

When Dorothy yawned, Crow stood and offered her his hand. “None of us will be any good if we don’t sleep.”

Dorothy let him help her to her feet and guide her to one of the bedrooms. He opened the door for her and entered first, doing yet another sweep for danger. He’d never seen Crow act like this. Kind, always, pompous, yes, but this mother hen act was new. Was this what happened when one became a parent?

“Are you okay?” “What do you think?” she snapped. “I think, with your glamour gone, you can do anything you want—be anyone you

want.” She could make an entirely new life for herself if she chose. “I could be Langwidere,” she hissed. “Or I suppose she could be me.” Tin winced at the anger in her words. “I wasn’t going to give you to Lion.” “Liar.” He was a liar. When he’d opened that portal and dragged Dorothy back to Oz, he’d had every intention of delivering her for a huge sum. “I was but I changed my mind once I spent time with you.” Dorothy grunted. “I don’t trust you.” “I know,”

“This is more comfortable than the floor.” “There’s a perfectly good couch,” she deadpanned. “Ah, yes. But your father happens to be out cold on it.”

“I’m sorry, Dorothy. But I’m different now.” Dorothy laughed bitterly. “You’re so full of shit.” Tin took her hand and pressed it over his heart. Then he waited. Waited for her to feel it, to understand what it meant. “Your heart,” she whispered, her eyes full of wonder. “It’s beating. How?” He exhaled a laugh. “It seems you’ve broken my curse.”

“What?” she asked, almost as if she hadn’t heard. “You still believed in me when no one else in this wretched land would. Because you cared about me, because you didn’t give up despite everything, your compassion helped to break my heart from its stone prison.” Dorothy’s eyes glistened. “I—” “It’s yours,” he vowed. “You resurrected my heart when I thought it was gone forever, so its fate is yours. Rip it out and burn it to ash if that makes you happy. But know this: no matter how long you allow me to keep it, I will cherish this gift and use it to protect you.”

“Wow.” Dorothy scrunched her nose. “So dramatic, Tin. Who knew hearts came with a heaping side of valor?” Tin gave her a small grin. “Enough of that, then. No more tear...

“Don’t think this means I forgive you.”

“I wouldn’t dare think that.”

Dorothy

“What are they doing?” Dorothy asked softly, shifting back so she was pressed against the wall. “Your guess is as good as mine, but I assume searching for more heads.”

“Or searching for my head.” Her grip tightened against the handle of the machete. “There are too many for us to fight if they come in here.”

“They don’t know we’re here.”

Instead of laying back down in bed, Dorothy headed into the sitting room to check on Crow. On the couch, he rested curled up on his side, arm hanging over the edge, and still passed out like a baby. Her father. He was her father…

She was still confused, with too many questions and not enough answers. But even when he hadn’t remembered her, when she’d just met him, there had been something between them. He’d held her hand when she’d missed her family. She’d felt closer to him than anyone. And now she understood why. Someone had taken her from her parents, and she hadn’t pushed him about it, but she would have to soon.