Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

For those who live their nightmares, so that others may have their dreams.

Carrion leaned forward, propping his elbows against the table. He bounced his eyebrows in the most infuriating way. “I never met a rule I didn’t wanna break, Sunshine.”

Waterfall

“Or maybe,” he said, swirling the ale around in his glass, “I knew if I messed with Hayden, I’d get to see you. And maybe that was an opportunity too good to pass up.” “You broke my brother’s ribs just so you’d get to see me?”

My kind of guy right here

“Saeris, if I knew I could buy your time, I’d be bankrupt, and you would be a very rich woman. You’d have spent the past three months on your back, begging for me to ride you harder, and—” “One more word and I’ll relieve you of your fucking balls, thief,” I snarled.

Thisman…..

“Here.” Carrion set a glass of amber liquid down in front of me; the damn thing was almost full to the brim. “That is not one drink.” “It’s in one glass,” he countered. “Therefore, it’s one drink.”

Man me and this guy would get along real good👀

Funny how your own impending demise will rob a girl of her desire to take in the scenery.

LMAO SAME

It isn’t disease that’s contagious in my ward, Captain. It’s dissent. Anarchy and rebellion spread like a wildfire. And what do you do with a fire? You blockade it. Trap it behind a wall. Give it nowhere else to go until it burns itself out and dies a quiet death. That’s what Madra’s doing with my people. Except our fire hasn’t burned out the way she’d hoped it would. We’ve been reduced to embers, yes, but the coals that lie beneath the ash of my ward are still hot enough to burn. 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.”

REBELLION

He went about lighting other torches along the wall then. Soon there were at least ten of them casting off circles of golden light that revealed the dour faces of long-forgotten gods chiseled into the stonework of the walls. Amongst them, the only two I recognized were Balea and Min, the physical embodiment of Zilvaren’s suns—twin sisters, identical in appearance, beautiful and cruel. The sisters stared down at me with regal indifference as Harron finished his task.

I feel as if this is important (it was)

“I’m not fond of rumors, Saeris Fane. Rumors are next-door neighbors to gossip, and gossip always breaks bread with lies. It’s just the way these things go.”

I will be adding this to my vocabulary list

“You took something of mine, girl, and I am not in the business of letting theft slide. So, I will take from you. First, your life. Then, I’ll make a column of greasy smoke out of those who matter to you, and when they’re gone, I will tear the Third Ward to the ground. For the next one hundred years, anyone foolish enough to think twice about stealing from me will remember the black day Saeris Fane offended the Zilvaren crown and a hundred thousand people paid the price.”

Oh fuck that. Beat her ass girl like? She a tyrant

“Death is an open doorway that’s meant to be walked through. On the other side of it lies peace. Count yourself lucky that you get to make the journey at all.”

I am sniffing something nasty

Life wasn’t fair. I’d never expected it to be, but I did believe that you reaped what you sowed in this city, and that meant that Harron, Captain of Madra’s guard, had a debt he needed to settle before I died.

KILL HIS ASS. I would beat him bloody and I ain’t even fought before 🫡

Saeris Fane was twenty-four years of age when she died. Honestly, she should have died a lot sooner, but the girl never did know when to give up.

I laughed at this one because same

I wheezed out eight words, knowing they’d be my last, enjoying the stupidity of them. “This is the part where… you scream… Captain.” And then I swung with all my might.

BADASSSSSS OMG

“Unfortunate.” I had known Death’s voice to be a howling hot wind across the parched desert. A wet, hacking cough in the night. The urgent cry of a starving baby. I had never for one moment imagined his voice might also be the stroke of velvet in the ever-encroaching darkness.

I love how this was written because it’s such a vivid picture in my mind now. Beautifully worded…

Dressed all in black, his shoulders were drawn up around his pointed ears. His chest rose and fell with the sawing of his breath. Tattoos writhed and shifted like smoke across every patch of visible skin, creeping up the back of his neck and swirling over the backs of his hands. It was Death. In such a feral state, he bore little resemblance to the male that had scooped me off the floor in the Hall of Mirrors. It wasn’t until he threw his head back, baring his teeth, that I allowed myself to believe that it was him. Beside me, Everlayne sucked in a sharp breath, pushing forward to the edge of her seat. “Shit.” When the rest of the crowd got a clear view of the male’s face, they began to swear, too. “Living Curse.” “Bane of Gillethrye.” “Black knight.” “Kingfisher.” “Kingfisher.” “Kingfisher.”

THE MAN OF THE HOUR

His jaw was defined, marked with dark stubble, his cheekbones high, his nose arrow straight and proud. There was a dark freckle just below his right eye. And… those eyes. Gods. Eyes were not that color. I’d never seen that shade of green before—a jade so bright and vibrant that it didn’t look real. I’d noticed the filaments of silver threaded through his right iris back in Madra’s Hall of Mirrors, but I’d assumed I’d imagined them, being so close to death and all. The silver shone there, though, definitely real, forming a reflective, metallic corona around the black well of his pupil. The sight of it made me feel strange and off-balance.

I love dark and mysterious

I braced against the workbench and said, “Elroy swears that a man will lie about the size of his cock every time a woman asks him.” Kingfisher stilled. “Are you asking me how big my cock is, Osha?” “I don’t care how big it is. I care about the way you answer.” A slow, terrifying smirk spread across his face. “It’s big enough to make you scream and then some.”

Lemme test that theory. I will take the fall for everyone involved🫡

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.

Bad human me tooo there buddy

“Are you saying that he’s so feral that one small right hook is enough to send him on an explosive killing rampage?” She thought about this while folding a blanket. It took her a while to make up her mind. “Yes,” she decided. “Then your brother isn’t a warrior, Everlayne. He’s a mindless savage with a shitty temper. But I think I could have already told you that.”

What a woman

“I like being surprised,” Fisher said, spinning his fork over in his hand. “I’m also a fan of aggressive foreplay. It’ll be a fun reminder.”

Fisher’s normally loose black shirt was plastered to his chest. He drew in a deep breath, his shoulders rising, and— I jerked when he snapped his fingers in front of my face. “You could at least say hello before you start eye-fucking me.” “I wasn’t eye-fucking you. I was trying to see through all of this… steam.” I wafted my hand for effect, but the air was clear, there was no steam, and Kingfisher did not look impressed.

I would’ve done the same no shame

“What was I wearing when you found me?” “A whole lot of blood.” Fisher pondered. Frowned. “Wait. I seem to recall that your intestines might have been a part of your ensemble.” “Pants and a shirt,” I said dryly. “And a pair of boots with really good soles. Do you have any idea what those boots cost me?” “Let me guess. Your virginity.” “Fuck you, Fisher.” “Sure.” He smirked. “But I’m afraid I don’t have any new boots to trade you for your time.”

No boots needed for mine 💋🤣

Fisher looked back at me, his narrowed eyes assessing me. Gods, he was a sight to behold. Every line of him was art. With his full mouth, and the faint shadow of stubble marking his jaw, his fascinating eyes, and all of his midnight-black hair, it was hard not to look at him and ache. I had grown up in a pit of misery, where people died more often than they lived. I hadn’t seen many beautiful things in my short life. But, of all the beautiful things I had seen, Fisher was the most beautiful of all.

This man must be the strike a woman dead type

But Fisher was the epitome of everything that was strong, and male, and powerful. He was so much more than anything I’d experienced before. He was beautiful. Looking at him made me feel like I couldn’t catch my breath. “If you want it, come here and touch it,” he rumbled.

🏃‍♀️🏃‍♀️✋

“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.”

Try🤷‍♀️ hear me out you never know. I did do gymnastics for one week when I was 7 I’m very flexible

I was burning alive. I was a living torch, blazing out of control. “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.”

I would’ve had a heart attack

Kingfisher’s boots planted firmly on the lip of the pool. There he stayed, blocking the path between me and my brother. His eyes blazed. “I’m hurt. Leaving without saying goodbye?” I propped myself up on one elbow, then managed to sit up, wincing at the sharp bolt of pain that fired through my side. “I don’t owe you a goodbye. I don’t owe you anything!” “YOU OWE ME YOUR LIFE!”

I owe you a lot more I’m sorry🙏

“Rule number three. Do not make me do any physical activity,” he snarled. “What part of ‘I am hungover’ did you not fucking understand!” My eyes burned brightly, promising tears. “I’m going home, Fisher. You can’t stop me.” He jabbed me with his sword, pricking me with its wicked point. “Apparently, I can.” “You’re such a bastard,” I hissed. He bared his teeth. “And you are a lying little thief.”

If he drug me across a floor i wouldn't just lay there🫣🤭

One hour, Osha. You make sure this door is ready to open when I come knocking. Trap me on the other side of it, and I’ll lay waste to whatever remains of your shining Silver City.”

I like a man with some personality and man does kingfisher have it.

“You changed your mind, then?” I whispered, painfully aware of how loud the sound of my voice was now that I was alone down here and the quicksilver wasn’t muttering to me. The little fox chittered in answer, grumbling away into my armpit. “All right. All right. Don’t worry. We’re all allowed to change our minds,” I told him. “Don’t suppose you’re good at keeping track of time, are you?” The little fox sneezed. “No, me neither.”

This is adorable and I will be buying a fox.

“What am I gonna call you? If you’re gonna be hanging around, you need to have a name.” He peered up at me, his little onyx eyes narrowed to slits, eyelids slowly blinking so that I could make out every single one of his tiny white eyelashes. “What do you think about Onyx?” I asked him. He closed his eyes and didn’t open them again for a long time, which I took to be a sign of approval.

Amazing name

“Wait! Where’s my bag?” I twisted in the saddle, searching for it. “I have plenty of food and water for the both of us. You don’t need it.” “I don’t care about the food and water. I care about Onyx!” “What’s an Onyx?” “Just give me the bag, Fisher.” If he fought me on this, oooh gods, I would raise the worst kinds of hell.

Me when it comes to keisa

“And yet you’re coming to help me end a war, aren’t you. What more noble cause could there be? Congratulations on achieving fucking sainthood.”

Trot? I laughed scathingly. “Nothing you can say or do will incentivize me to smash my genitals against this saddle any harder or faster than they’re already being smashed.” “Feeling a little sore, human?” “Sore doesn’t come close,” I grumbled. “I’ll happily kiss all of your aches and pains better for you once we strike camp. I’ve been told my mouth has healing properties. Especially when administered between a pair of thighs.”

Could've had me

He just laughed. “And here I was, rankled at the thought of having to drag around a helpless, useless human who’d be nothing but a burden. But it turns out you’ve got jokes! At least I can count on you for some entertainment.”

I bet I would've been entertaining

Please. A blessing, Commander? Only… only if you see fit to, of course,” he stammered. “I’m sorry.” Kingfisher placed a hand on the warrior’s shoulder. “You have me mistaken for someone else.” The blond warrior donned a rueful smile. “My cousin fought with you and your wolves at Ajun-Sky. The way he described you…” He shook his head apologetically. “You’re the Fisher King. You can’t be anyone else.”

Oh so he’s revered 👀

You are soft. You are fragile. You are vulnerable. You are a newborn fawn, stumbling around in the dark, surrounded by predators with very sharp teeth. I am the thing that exists on the other side of the dark. I’m the thing that puts the fear of the gods into the monsters who would eat you bones and all.”

A MAN 💪

“As for the boots, your friend Fisher gave them to me.” I set down my fork. “He did?” Carrion nodded. “That night, before you had dinner with him, actually. You’d already left for the dining room. He showed up with these in his hand and said he’d give them to me on one condition.” “Which was?” Carrion snagged a grape from the tray and popped it into his mouth. “That I take a bath.” “A bath?” “Yes, a bath.” “That’s a weird request.” “I know. Even after being kidnapped, dragged into a different realm, and carted for miles on the back of a horse, I still smelled great. But he was all wound up about not liking the way I smelled, so I figured fuck it.

BECAUSE HE SMELLED LIKE HER

“And then,” he said, taking another grape. “They rubbed me down with this special kind of moss, which is where things got interesting. They paid particular attention to my…” His eyes trailed down his body until they rested in his crotch. I raised my eyebrows at him. “You let a fire sprite jerk you off with a handful of Fae moss?” “Not a fire sprite,” he said defensively. “These were water sprites. Three of them. They’re smaller than the Fae women and very nice to look at. I didn’t mind their attentions one bit.”

I like this guy man🤣

“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?” he asked, winking again. “No! I’m… I’m disgusted! What if you catch some kind of Fae disease?” I eyed his crotch for emphasis this time. Another grape went into his mouth. “Ahh, I’m not worried about that. They were very thorough with that moss.”

HAHA

please enlighten me. Why have you invited half of the household along to a meeting that was supposed to be for just the two of us?” “Meeting? I thought this was dinner. And how would it be fair for me to enjoy the pleasure of your company while these two miss out?” Carrion held up a hand. “I’d prefer not to be here, actually.” “Sit the fuck down,” I hissed. “All right. Gods.”

Me and carrion are the same person

“You’ll be laughing on the other side of your face soon.” Carrion used one hand to dust the snow off his pants and the other to flip me off. “It’s almost your turn. My ass can’t take much more of this.” “I bet that’s the first time you’ve said those words,” I called.

Laughed at this one

Fisher. Kingfisher. Lord of Cahlish. I hated him, I did. But you couldn’t hate something without caring about it just a little, too.

Not wrong

When I’d first laid eyes on him, I’d called him Death. The likeness was even more pronounced now. This male possessed the power to end entire civilizations if he wanted to. I could feel it—a still, deep well inside him, its surface rippling as he grew harder and harder inside me. I would drown in that well. Sink down into the dark depths of it, never to break the surface again. And I would be glad.

Beautiful writing