Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

This bastard would shit himself if he realized he had the Saeris Fane in his grasp.

My vision was going at last. Blackness crept in, rolling before my eyes like a midnight fog. Only it wasn’t a fog. It was something else. It was… Death. The bastard had come to claim me in person.

“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. “Where’s Madra?” he demanded.

A moment later, he withdrew his hand, a long silver chain hooked around his index finger. He unfastened it. “If you die before you can give this back, I’m not going to be happy,” he groused. The chain was warm against my skin as he looped it around my neck.

“Ahh. Saeris. A pretty name. A Fae name.

“It’s inhuman behavior. But we aren’t human, Saeris. We’re Fae. We don’t behave like you. Don’t think like you. We don’t operate by the same moral guidelines that some of your kind do, either. The faster you remember that, the easier this will be,” she said a little more gently.

“Balmithin. Twin sisters. Goddesses of the sky. Legend says that they once were one god, but a mighty storm came, and Balmithin refused to take shelter as it raged across the land. The powerful spirit within the storm was furious that Balmithin didn’t cower before him, and so he lashed her with forks of lightning. Again and again, the lightning struck Balmithin, but she didn’t die. Instead, she cracked and split in two, becoming Bal and Mithin. Bal is the goddess of the sun, but goddess of the day in a looser sense. Mithin is the goddess of the moon, but again, she presides over all of the night.” Bal. Mithin. Balea. Min. The Twins.

I also had no idea what a moon was, but I set all of that aside for now.

The individual who brought you to my court”—Belikon ran his tongue over his teeth like he was trying to sweep away a foul taste—“told my guards that you were the one who reopened the portal. It seems highly unlikely that a human woke the quicksilver.” He grunted, displeased.

“There is one thing I can tell you right now,” she said, striding out in front of me to guide the way. “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.”

Not to mention the fact that there are still rumors floating around that the Daianthus heir is in Zilvaren somewhere.

“All right, Oshellith. Layne isn’t going to let this go until you’ve been given the cliff notes, so listen close. I’m about to furnish you with the only information you really need to know. You have the distinct pleasure of being the only living human in all of Yvelia. You are not safe here.”

“You’re my brother,” Everlayne hissed.

“My mother gave me this pendant, this relic,” he clarified, “when I was eleven. The night before we left for the Winter Palace. She knew I’d have need of it. Later, when I came of age and joined Belikon’s army, I was called upon to travel between Yvelia and the other realms because my pendant was one of the most powerful.

“You! We broke our backs cleaning this place! What’s wrong with you? What happened to, ‘our abilities are sacred gifts to be used for righteous purposes,’ or whatever the hell it was you said?” “Him? Righteous purposes?” Renfis stifled a cough that sounded a lot like laughter. “The male standing before you isn’t shy about using his gifts to complete mundane tasks.” I glowered at Kingfisher. “You monster.”

“This will come as a bit of a shock, then.” She took a deep breath. “I was born at the very beginning of the tenth age. I’ve been alive for one thousand four hundred and eighty-six years.”

“Not bad. He’s one thousand seven hundred and thirty years old.” “One thousand seven hundred and thirty-three,” came a deep voice.

“I have to say, I was expecting that to go differently,” he mused. And then I punched him square in the mouth.

have to say, I was expecting that to go differently,” he mused. And then I punched him square in the mouth.

“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.” I breathed in sharply, inhaling cheese. Choking and spluttering, I tried desperately to get rid of it, but it wasn’t going anywhere. Kingfisher leaned forward, his tongue running over his teeth again. He smiled suggestively as he said, “Swallow.” “What in the five hells is going on here? Are you trying to kill the poor girl?” Layne came out of nowhere, a cloud of sweet perfume and saffron-colored silks.

I jerked when he snapped his fingers in front of my face. “You could at least say hello before you start eye-fucking me.”

jerked when he snapped his fingers in front of my face. “You could at least say hello before you start eye-fucking me.”

“That your body is betraying you in other ways. That I can smell you, Little Osha, and I’m thinking about drinking the sweet nectar you’re making for me straight from the fucking cup.”

“At Sinder’s Reach, you quelled the horde that threatened to burn everything my people had built. Fifty thousand people. Fifty thousand lives. Temples. Libraries. Schools. Homes. They all still exist today. Because of you.” A muscle ticked in Kingfisher’s jaw. He couldn’t meet the female’s eyes.

Kingfisher stopped what he was doing, his head hanging, and for a second, I found myself transfixed by what I saw. The gorget only protected his throat. The back of his neck was exposed, the ends of his dark waves not long enough to cover it. His skin was pale apart from a single, stark black rune visible between the base of his skull and his shirt collar. It was complex, all interlocking fine lines, loops, and curls. Most of the runes I’d seen on the Fae had been ugly-looking things, but this… Kingfisher looked up at Archer. The rune disappeared.

“If Belikon has all of Yvelia’s silver, then surely he’d give it to you? If it’s so vital to win the war?” Kingfisher snorted. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But no. Belikon won’t give us silver. He won’t give us aid. He won’t give us food, or clothes, or weapons. He doesn’t give a fuck about this war.” “But that’s just… It makes no sense.”

“You know what’d really piss him off?” I knew he wasn’t talking about Onyx. “Just don’t, Carrion.” “Revenge fucking on his bed.”

He came at me. I saw a flash of silver as his sword moved. And then I saw the snow-pregnant sky. And then I saw the ground. Then I saw stars. It was all over in a heartbeat. Carrion’s loud whoop echoed along the riverbank. “That was funny. Now I see why you were laughing so hard.”

“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.”

“Are you about to smile, Kingfisher of the Ajun Gate?” “What if I am?” he said in a very even, measured tone. “I can count on one hand how many times I’ve witnessed you do it. No one’s going to believe me when we get back to camp.” He did smile then, slow and rueful, head turned away as he toyed with his fork. “They’ll believe you, Little Osha. They’ve all seen me smile plenty.” “Just not recently?” I whispered. “No. Not recently. Smiling has been pretty hard of late.” His Adam’s apple bobbed. “It is getting easier, though.”

“And yes, you can come and watch. But only if you promise to keep your mouth shut and not get in the way.” It was physically impossible for Carrion to keep his mouth shut and not get in the way.

“You’re making a weird face,” Carrion whispered loudly. “Are you talking to it?” “Yes, I’m talking to it. What do you think I’m doing?” “I don’t know. You look constipated.” “Shh!” I closed my eyes so I could block him out.

“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.”

“Fuck you, Taladaius,” Fisher spat. “If you’ve hurt her—”

“You, of all people, know that Malcolm gets what Malcolm wants,” Taladaius chided. “He’ll have his prize, and you know it.” “WELL, HE CAN’T HAVE HER!” Fisher’s declaration boomed over the Darn; it could probably be heard in the bowels of Ammontraíeth.

“You can kick and scream all you like,” he said. “But he wants the Alchemist, Fisher. If he has to burn down all of Yvelia to claim her, you know perfectly well that he’ll do it.”

If they bite the same human a number of times, eventually they become enthralled—” “There. That word. What does that mean?” “The victim becomes bound to the vampire who bit them,” Lorreth said, stepping in. “Mindlessly devoted to their needs. They’ll feed and fuck their master without a single thought for themselves. Inevitably, their masters grow bored and drain them, and then their victim dies. Three days later, they rise from wherever they’ve been discarded and become the feeders you’ve seen on the river.”

“You can’t be serious, Fisher. We all know you’ve fucked her. The whole camp can smell it on the two of you. But she’s a human—” “And?” Ren dumped everything he was carrying down onto the ground with a snarl. “She’s honorable and brave, not to mention the most powerful Alchemist ever documented. She disarmed you in half a fucking second if you recall. Who the fuck are you to say she and Fisher don’t belong together?”

“Did you hear that?” he said. “What?” “That smoking hot blonde said I was pretty.” “Gods alive, Carrion. Do not tell me you have a thing for Danya. She’s fucking awful.” “Eh.” He shot me a rakish grin. “I love a girl with a sharp tongue and a bad attitude. Kinda makes my dick hard.”

“I just love it when you disappear into tense conversations with creepy portal metal,” Carrion quipped, hoisting himself up to sit on the bench. “It’s fascinating watching you do all of those facial gymnastics.”

“Once upon a time, that was the case. Back when true mating bonds existed. Unions between true mates were blessed with marks from the Fates. That’s where the tradition of inking our hands originated from. But there’s no such thing as true mates anymore. When the gods left Yvelia, certain elements of our magic either died or waned over time. The god swords, for example. They were very slowly cut off from the source of the magic they channeled. Our ability to form mating bonds also died out over thousands of years, until it disappeared altogether.”

“Nobody will ever fuck you the way I’m about to fuck you, Saeris Fane. I’m about to introduce you to all seven gods. When you meet them, don’t forget to tell them I’m the one you worship on your knees.”

“Carrion Swift, if you don’t wake up right now, I’m going to tell all of your asshole friends back in the Third that you were a shitty lay.” Lorreth dealt another blow to his solar plexus. “I mean it!” I cried. Carrion jolted like he’d been struck by lightning. He rolled toward Lorreth and vomited up a lungful of lake water, hacking and sputtering. Oh, thank the gods. I fell back, landing heavily on my ass, trading a relieved look with Lorreth. When he was done puking, Carrion flopped onto his back and fixed me with narrowed eyes. “You wouldn’t… fucking… dare.”

He said if the coin hit the ground and landed leaf-side up, Malcolm would call off his horde and leave the city without hurting another living thing. But if the coin hit the ground and landed fish-side up, he would take the city as his own and destroy it, and I would have to leave those still alive to their deaths and meet him on the field of battle at a later date.”

“I tossed the coin…” he said. “And I caught it!” Malcolm held his glass aloft, toasting himself. “The coin never hit the ground,” I whispered. “The coin never hit the ground!” Belikon jeered.

“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.”

“You really should have let me finish introducing myself earlier. It’s rude to interrupt people.” Malcolm let go of him, shoving him away. Miraculously, Carrion managed to stay on his feet. “My name is Carrion Swift. But there was a time when I was known as Carrion Daianthus. Firstborn son to Rurik and Amelia Daianthus.”

“Threads like you and Kingfisher, that are drawn together and cross on an axis create a well of power. The energy the two of you draw together attracts an equal and opposite counterweight. Every possible future where the two of you are together ends with the vast majority of this tree dying. None of us can foresee any other way.”