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Sometimes, objects shook around me. Objects made of iron, tin, or gold.
“Asshole,” I said stiffly by way of greeting. He grinned, and my stomach rolled in a weightless way that made me curse under my breath. “Bitch,” he replied.
Humans were no longer capable of reading each other’s minds, or making the blood boil in their enemy’s veins, or granting themselves eternal luck. Everybody knew that we’d been stripped of those heretical powers hundreds of years ago,
It was all luck. Good or bad. And luck could change at any moment.
Do you know much about metalwork, Captain? I do. It’s under the most unbearable conditions that the sharpest, most dangerous weapons are forged. And we are dangerous, Captain. She’s turned us all into weapons. That is why she won’t suffer my people to live.”
Elroy told me how they slaughtered cows once. They hit them in the forehead with a piercing bolt, taking them by surprise. That’s how my guilt came at me on the heels of the queen’s promise: out of nowhere. Right between the eyes.
Death. The bastard had come to claim me in person. Emerging from the silver, the huge figure rose up from the pool as if ascending from the very depths of hell itself. Broad shoulders. Wet, shoulder-length black hair. Tall. Taller than any other man I’d ever seen.
*twirls hair*
Of course Death was beautiful. How else would anyone choose to go with him without putting up a fight? Even though he scowled at me, his dark brows tugging together to form a dark, unhappy line, he was still the most savagely beautiful thing I’d ever seen. “Pathetic,” he murmured.
I’m afraid I am in love
“A dragon. The last dragon,” she said meaningfully. “Its name was Omnamshacry. A legend amongst my people.”
“Why are you calling me that? Oshellith?” I snapped. “What does it mean?” He’d turned around. Was walking away. I listened to his boots striking the cold stone beneath his feet, each step ringing in my ears. “An Oshellith is a type of butterfly,” he called as he went. “Osha for short. They hatch, live, and die all in one day. The cold kills them very fast.
Everlayne had been waiting for me when I returned to my room yesterday. She hadn’t banked on Kingfisher kicking in my bedroom door, me thrown over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and wailing like a banshee. Nor had she expected his ultra-foul temper, his split bottom lip, or the thin line of blood trickling down his chin. She’d squawked when he’d thrown me unceremoniously down onto my bed and snarled, “Bad human,” at me.
When Fisher was ten, the king sent his father on a mission to Zilvaren. He never returned. That’s when the gateways were stilled. The king said that Finran, Fisher’s father, was responsible for the quicksilver stilling and declared him a traitor to the Fae—”
Oh so he may be alive and in silver city
“Careful, human. We Fae have an excellent sense of smell. You’d be amazed what we can scent floating on the air.”
OPE, GOT HER
“I don’t hate your kind. I’m just disappointed by how breakable you are. If I held you down and fucked you the way I’m imagining fucking you right now, I doubt that you’d survive it.”
“I wouldn’t fuck you—if you were the last living—” “Don’t bother.” The words held bite. “Lying is pointless with your heart betraying you so loudly.” “It’s beating fast because I’m afraid,” I snapped. “Of me?” Kingfisher huffed a blast of laughter down his nose. “No, you’re not. You should be, but you’re not. That’s one of the things I like most about you.”
His lips felt incredible. They parted for me, and I could feel his smile against my mouth as his tongue met mine. He kissed me back.
“I’d know the smell of you anywhere. On anyone. I’d know it blind and in the dark. Across a fucking sea. I’d be able to scent you—” BOOM!
“For the record, I’d never use an injury as an excuse to sneak my way into a bed,” Fisher said. His voice was even closer now. I could almost feel the brush of his lips against the shell of my ear. “I’ve never had a problem securing myself an invite.” He was so sure of himself. His arrogance went beyond the pale. “Well, don’t count on an invite from me,” I snapped, drawing the sheets up even higher beneath my chin. Fuck me. That smile. Slightly open-mouthed, flashing the smallest hint of pointed teeth. I had to be so, so careful around that smile. It would wreck me if I let it. “Mm. You’re
...more
WHEN the time comes, not IF
“You’ve been in Yvelia for five seconds, and you’ve already had a foursome with a different species of magical creature?” I didn’t know why I was surprised. It was absolutely something Carrion would do. “Jealous?”
“If I were evil and using your oath for my own purposes, I’d order you onto your knees for me,” he said, cutting me off. “I’d order you to part your legs for me. I’d order you to suck and fuck me until you passed out from exhaustion. Is that what you want, Little Osha?”
“We have a fucking Alchemist?” “She’s mine,” Fisher said.
“I can’t wait to hear what kind of sounds you make when I thrust into you for the first time,” he purred. “I’m going to make you pant for me, Little Osha. And when we’re done, I’ll close my eyes and replay the sound of you moaning in my head every time I stroke myself to completion.”
“Such a pretty flower, blooming just for me,” he rumbled, climbing up onto the end of the bed.
Wisps of iridescent smoke trailed up my arms, circling my wrists, stroking over my skin, so soft and seductive that I trembled under the contact. It was him. An extension of him, and it was everywhere.
Fisher. Kingfisher. Lord of Cahlish. I hated him, I did. But you couldn’t hate something without caring about it just a little, too.
It’s good for you to improve at finding the quicksilver. You never know when you might need to detect small amounts over great distances.”
Does he mean she will have to find him one day?
“Don’t call her Sunshine,” he commanded. “Why not?” If Carrion’s plan was to poke the bear, then he sure as hell knew how to go about it. But Kingfisher didn’t respond to the taunting note in his question. He just cocked his head a little, nostrils flaring, and spoke in a low rumble. “Because she is moonlight. The mist that shrouds the mountains. The bite of electricity in the air before a storm. The smoke that rolls across a battlefield before the killing starts. You have no idea what she is. What she could be. You should call her Majesty.
If I die first, the piece of Fisher’s soul returns to him. He becomes whole again. Everybody has a big party. The end. But if he dies first, he’s condemned to wait here for me to die before he can move on. He’d be trapped here, in a non-corporeal state, unable to touch anything or anyone. Unable to be heard.
Unhappy about this foreshadowing fml
Fisher laughed. Really laughed. The sound was rich and deep, and made something inside me sit up straight. When I’d picked up a pitcher at the Winter Palace and filled a glass for myself for the first time, I’d thought the sound of that rushing, free water would be my favorite sound until the day I died. I was wrong. The sound of Fisher’s genuine laughter was rarer than water had ever been back in Zilvaren; it almost brought tears to my eyes to hear it.
We remember, so the Alchemist remembers.
Fisher rested his chin on top of his forearms and sighed. “What?” I whispered. He thought for a moment, appearing to decide whether he’d answer the question. Then he said, “I was wrong, y’know. You are a good thief.” “What have I stolen?” But he smiled a small, sad smile, slowly shaking his head.
AHHHHHH HIS HEART!!!! My heart!!!!!
“I’m Saeris. I’m an Alchemist. I—” We know who she is, the quicksilver hissed. She is the dawn. She is the moon. She is the sky. She is oxygen in our lungs.
“Don’t you dare die on my watch, Saeris Fane! Fisher will never forgive me if his sole reason for living is torn to pieces on her first fucking battlefield.”
“I give you my blood in thanks, Saeris Fane.”
“I love a girl with a sharp tongue and a bad attitude. Kinda makes my dick hard.”
I’ve known for centuries that you were coming. That you were just going to show up one day and change everything. You’re the chink in my armor, Saeris. The soft spot where the knife slides in.
“The Oshellith hatch once in most Fae lifetimes. Up north, in the wastelands, far beyond Ajun Sky, where the dragons used to live.
That’s what Oshellith means in Old Fae, Saeris. Most Sacred.
“But… you called me that from the very start.” Kingfisher nodded slowly, eyes shining bright. “Most sacred,” he repeated, whispering the words.
“I don’t suppose you’d let me come?” Carrion asked. “I’ve always wanted to see a witch in real life.” “No,” Fisher said blandly. “I would not. You’ll only try and fuck one of them, and we’re trying to petition them for help, not spark a war with them because you can’t keep your cock in your pants.” Lorreth pretended to swallow down vomit. “Urgh. He would not try and fuck a witch.” “No, he’s right,” Carrion said with a sigh. “I would. Y’know. Just to say that I’d done it.”
“My lips to kiss. My mouth to fuck
“I’ll be grateful for every second that I can say that I belong to you, Saeris Fane. Eighty years or eighteen hours. It doesn’t matter to me. It’ll still be the highest honor of my life.
I’ve never been one to trust in the gods, but I choose to believe that all things come from the same place when life begins. I have hope that they return to the same place when it ends. I’ll be waiting for you there, Saeris Fane. F
“It looks like a Simon.” “Simon?” “Yeah. Simon. Don’t blame me. That’s what it looks—” He stopped talking and listened. “See. It likes the name. It wants to be Simon.” “Fair enough.”
“I hate to tell you this, but I can do anything to you that I want. Malcolm has always let me play with his toys.” “I play back,” Fisher spat. “It might not be today, but oh, I am coming to find you, Madra. Fear the shadows, bitch. I’m made of them. One night soon, I’ll climb out of one and slit your fucking throat.”
“My name is Carrion Swift. But there was a time when I was known as Carrion Daianthus. Firstborn son to Rurik and Amelia Daianthus.”
“I love him,” I said. “I can’t bear for him to die.” The Kingfisherrrrr, the whisper buzzed. Yes. Your mate. I stared into the dark, feeling hopeless. “Yes,” I said. “My mate.”
He’d come for me. Even with the world ending all around us, he had me.
“There are two kinds of forever, Alchemist. One is heaven. The other is hell. It doesn’t matter what I do. Make sure you choose your version of immortality wisely.”
I glared at him even harder. “You slept with me.” He grinned shamelessly. “You’re welcome.” “Carrion!”
