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The burnished metal released a sustained hum as it hit the ground. It sang in my ears, and just like that, all of my plans went up in smoke.
She sees us. She feels us. She sees us. She feels us. She
“What if they track you down and realize what you can do? The way you can affect metal—”
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.
Something long and narrow protruded from the platform. From a distance, it looked like some sort of lever. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from it. My attention seemed to be snared by the shadowy shape, and no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t rip my gaze away.
The closer we drew, the more focused I became. It was as if the platform were drawing me to it, beckoning me forward…
I wanted to look at the raised platform. With every fiber of my being, I was desperate to
“It was the Fae, wasn’t it?” she hissed. “They’ve found a way through. They’ve come for me at last?”
The Harron I met in the streets of the Third was nowhere to be seen, nor was the man who dragged me up from the dungeons, kicking and screaming. This version of the captain was meek and diminished. Afraid for reasons I couldn’t discern.
“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.”
“For what it’s worth, I am sorry,”
“I can’t go. She won’t let me!”
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.
“Obsidian. Ob-obsidian!” exclaimed Harron. “Broken. Everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Down in the ground. In the passageways. In the walls. They move. In the ground. I can’t… it won’t die! It has to!” he screamed.
“I can’t pull it out of you,” Death said wearily. “Your fate’s sealed, Captain. You deserve far fucking worse.”
“The ground. The passages. They m—they move. In the ground. Obsidian. Ob… obsid… obsidian…”
“Ahh. Saeris. A pretty name. A Fae name. How are you feeling? You’re sore, I bet, but you must be feeling a lot better than when you first arrived.”
Long hair is a sign of high-born status for Fae women. Others will be jealous of your dark coloring, too. Dark hair is a royal trait amongst the Yvelian Fae.”
“That’s Zareth, god of chaos and change.”
A terrible, multi-layered scream ignited inside my head as the metal scraped across the dais this time.
If you bore my mother any love at all, you’ll do something to save him,”
A thrill of energy rocketed up my spine at these two words. Kingfisher’s voice was rough and pained, but it was also electricity. It made every hair on my body stand to attention.
“Even in times of peace, the Fae are always at war. There are those among our ranks that might pretend to be your friend, but often they’re hiding knives behind their smiles, ready to sink them into your back. You’d do well to remember that.”
“We don’t know what she is just yet. Kingfisher felt Solace calling, and he answered. He found it in Saeris’s hands.”
Not to mention the fact that there are still rumors floating around that the Daianthus heir is in Zilvaren somewhere.
“What can I say?” he purred. “Being completely cut off from civilization and summarily forgotten about has a way of changing you after a while.”
“He does deserve some grace, though. He has no rooms here. Nowhere to eat. Nowhere to sleep. No provisions. And a hundred and ten years, Layne. Can you imagine what a hundred and ten years would have been like in that place? Alone?”
“One thousand seven hundred and thirty-three,”
“You’re not ready for that information. You’ll never be ready.” “Why?” “Because you’re human, and humans are weak,” he snarled. “Because it’s none of your business. Because it doesn’t matter why I did it. Because no matter what reason I give to you, it won’t be good enough. Now ask me something else.”
“You can. Show me that I’m wrong. Show me that you’re tougher than I think you are.”
“I have to say, I was expecting that to go differently,” he mused.
And then I punched him square in the mouth.
When Fisher was ten, the king sent his father on a mission to Zilvaren. He never returned.
“It’s always confounded me. Humans aren’t restricted by the same laws as the Oath Bound Fae. You creatures can lie whenever you want. You do it all of the time. And yet you’re all so fucking bad at it.”
“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?”
“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.”
Kingfisher’s head rocked back, a low, rumbling groan issuing from his throat.
“Careful,” he panted. “I swore I’d be still while you kissed me. At no point did I promise to exercise restraint if you climbed up into my lap and started grinding yourself against my cock.”
I will try to bring that human back here, and you will end this madness. In return, you’ll agree to do whatever I ask of you to help me forge new relics and any other instruments I deem fit.”
“I go and I try to get your brother. You help me and assist me in any way I ask you to, and you do as you’re told. You agree to this pact?”
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.”
“This is not my brother, Fisher. This is Carrion fucking Swift!”
Heart-shaped birthmark on his chin.
“I hate that fucking place, but I went there for you. I got stabbed seven times in various parts of my body. For you. This prick said he was Hayden. His blood said he was Hayden. I did what I said I was going to do. Now move. We’re getting the hell out of here.”
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 don’t enjoy hurting people. I don’t like it at all. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t necessary. To avoid far more serious pain, sometimes we have to endure a little sting. Sometimes, some of us have to inflict it. You say it so mockingly, but I do care about your well-being. You’re important. Without you, I can’t end this war or protect my people. I have to keep you safe so I can accomplish my goals. So yes, I’ll hurt you if it means I keep you safe. I’ll force you to follow me to the ends of this realm, because that is the only way I can make sure you stay alive. Now drink your beer.”
“My father and Belikon had a long history. He saw what Belikon was planning long before he murdered the royal family and stole the crown for himself. He took precautions and warded his lands so that neither Belikon nor any of his supporters could cross into them. He was powerful, and his wards were strong. They remain as solid as ever. Belikon can travel to the borders of Cahlish, but he can’t enter. As long as I live and carry on my father’s line, he never will.”
“The last time he laid his hands on a sword of note, he used it to murder the true king and the whole fucking Daianthus line. If Rurik Daianthus—”
apologetically. “You’re the Fisher King. You can’t be anyone else.”
“You fought Malcolm on the banks of the Darn until the river flowed black with their blood.”
