Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

“We have a fucking Alchemist?” “She’s mine,” Fisher said.

He held out his hand to me and said, “Take it, or I carry you.” I gave him my hand. “We’ll be back in the morning,”

“Malcolm’s a high Fae vampire. The very first. We were cursed thousands of years ago, and the Fae turned into something very like Malcolm. When a cure was found, my great-grandfather and most of the other Yvelian Fae took it. They were horrified by the monsters they’d become and wanted to return to their old lives. But there were those who liked the dark magic the curse afforded them. They liked the power and the promise of immortality.”

“Whatever happens to you affects me. And I’m not stupid. You’ve been less of a prick these past fifteen minutes than you have been since you scraped me off the floor in the Hall of Mirrors and saved me. You only started snapping again when you wanted to push me away. The cold barbs and the awful shit that comes out of your mouth are a way for you to keep people at arm’s length, aren’t they?”

The cards had been on the table for a while now. We were either going to kill each other or fuck each other, and I was glad we were both opting for the latter option.

Fisher’s eyes flared as he grabbed the front of my pants by the waistband and pulled me roughly to him. “You asked for this. When you’re sore from coming so hard and you can’t recall your own name, remember that, Little Osha.”

“When you take all of me, remember to breathe.”

“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.”

The mouth on fisher

The candles in Fisher’s room were gone, all light extinguished, but the staggering power that poured from Fisher seemed to carry its own internal illumination. It was hard to understand—we were definitely still in Fisher’s room. I could feel his bed beneath us. But we were also twisting in a sea of black, floating on a void of nothingness. Sinking, falling, rising, and drowning all at once.

“Hold on tight, then. I hope you’re not afraid of the dark.”

did not ask for a tattoo, Fisher,” I hissed. “I definitely didn’t ask for a bird to be permanently inked right above my fucking boob. You need to take it back.”

“It doesn’t work like that.”

“Bullshit, it doesn’t. It came from the ink on your body. You touched me. It slipped from your skin to mine. So, fuck, I don’t know, shake hands...

“I can’t have children, Fisher. I was cleansed when I was fourteen.”

“I mean… they sterilize us,” I whispered. I figured he’d known last night. I would have expected him to at least mention contraception otherwise. But from the look of shock he wore, he hadn’t had the first clue. “The Third Ward’s the poorest,” I told him. “Madra’s health advisors decided that we shouldn’t be allowed to procreate, otherwise we wouldn’t be able to support ourselves. The policy’s been in effect for over a hundred years. Seven out of every ten female babies are tagged when they’re registered with the ward officials.” I showed him the small black cross tattooed behind my left ear. The mark that meant I wasn’t allowed to breed.

I had no idea why I had been born with the gift to work the quicksilver. Perhaps it was a latent gift that hadn’t manifested in Carrion yet. His hand had prickled when he’d held the box. Maybe that meant something.

“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.”

I’d noticed, all right. The sigil was on the plate Fisher wore at his throat. It was stamped into his chest protector, too. And I’d noticed his tattoo more than once. Last night, for example, when the head of the Lupo Proelia had plowed me like a godscursed field.

“That’s why metal was so hard to find, then. Madra took it all. She wanted to keep the quicksilver away from the people. She knew there might be people like me within the city, capable of controlling it.”

“He’s a fucking liar. He’s been lying to me this whole time.”

“Who, Fisher?”

“Yes, Fisher. Wh...

“Impossible. He’s an Oath ...

“...

“And we can’...

“That’s some convenient-smelling bullshit ...

“When we turn twenty-one, we kneel before the Firinn Stone and make our decision. Every one of us. We have a choice. Bleed on the stone and make our vow. To always be truthful. To always...

“...

“Or we choose the Lawless path. A Lawless Fae may lie. They may cheat. They may steal. Useful tools in many situations, I’ll admit. But they come with a price that Kingfisher—and th...

“And that...

“Our h...

“Sarrush.” I clinked my glass against his. “Sarrush.”

“Yes, our canines work just fine. The same as a vampire’s would. But blood drinking is very taboo. No, it’s worse than taboo. It’s scandalous.”

“Well, it wasn’t any fun, that’s for sure. But it was a long time ago. I’ve suffered worse since. Anyway, we were miles away from anywhere. I wouldn’t have lasted until they could get me to help. If I’d died and come back turned while I was with them, there was a chance I could have killed a number of the party, and some of them didn’t want to risk that. They told Fisher it would be best to run me through and be done with it, but he refused. He made them set up camp for the night, and he transported me to Cahlish. He carried me in his arms, for fuck’s sake. I was a lot smaller then,” Lorreth stressed. “He put me in a bed, and he had healers come and tend to me, and he waited to see what they’d say. They weren’t optimistic about my odds. I had more venom than blood in my veins, and there are limits to what even the most skilled healer can accomplish under those circumstances. They told him to go back to the wolves, and when I passed, they would bury me beneath a yew tree out in one of the fields that bordered the estate. But Fisher didn’t do that.” “What… did he do?” Lorreth tossed his head back and laughed. “Something I’m sure I’ve given him innumerable reasons to regret since. He made me his brother. By blood. He gave me a part of his soul.”

“You’re lucky you didn’t die. Wait, what would have happened? If you had died? What would have happened to the piece of his soul Fisher gave you?” “Good question. 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. That’s the sacrifice he made when he decided to give me the gift of life. It’s happened before. The Fae male or female who tore off a piece of their soul dies first, of natural or unnatural causes, and then the recipient lives on in fine health for another two thousand years.

“Take Saoirse, Queen of the Lìssian Fae, for example. Her mother, who was queen before her, saved her life when she was a child. A hundred and eighty years later, her mother is murdered by unknown entities, and Saoirse rises to power. She’s young and beautiful. She likes being queen. She surrounds herself with infatuated males who are willing to die to keep her safe, and so she announces that she plans to live forever. She takes tonics and elixirs and is rumored to drink vampire blood to extend her life. Nearly three thousand years have passed since her mother died, and Saoirse doesn’t look a day over thirty. Meanwhile, her mother’s spirit has been chained to her, forced to witness the world of the living without being able to interact with it. Without being able to move on to her eternal rest…”

“Fisher says he’s not worried about what happens to him if he dies first,” Lorreth said. “And I’m not worried, either. Truth is, I plan on dying first, anyway. But if the fates guide the stars in a different direction and our better angels claim him first, I won’t permit a single breath into my body beyond the last one Kingfisher takes. By my own hand, I’ll make sure the piece of soul he loaned to me finds its way back to him. And if the fates consider it just, and I’ve done enough to earn a place at his side, I’ll go quietly and happily with my brother into whatever lies beyond.”

Lorreth my heart

Any sane person would have been happy that the Lord of Cahlish wasn’t as grouchy as usual, but for some reason, it irked me endlessly.

The residents of Ballard were a mixture of High Fae and Lesser Fae creatures—a snapshot of the Fae folk I hadn’t experienced yet; tiny, lightning-fast pixies, who showered our hair with flower petals as they darted through the lowest of the trees’ boughs on iridescent wings.

“there’s Malcolm.” He didn’t say “the vampires.” He said “Malcolm,” as if the pale figure with the silver hair I’d seen on the other side of the riverbank was solely responsible for the death and destruction his horde left in its wake. “His hatred alone would wipe the world clean of life if it were given free rein.”

“On the wrong side of the Darn, baying for the blood of their own fucking children,” he said bitterly. “Or else they’ve abandoned their homes and moved away, where they won’t have the entire Sanasrothian horde kicking down their front doors in the middle of the night. A hundred and ten years. I left them for a hundred and ten years. Ren and the others did everything they could to stem the tide. It’s not their fault. I was supposed to be here to protect them. I failed them. So I don’t deserve to be called Lord of Cahlish. I am lord of nothing.”

“Why haven’t you said anything?” he demanded, twisting to face me. “I was about to! I just… I was thinking it through!” “Not about that.” He exhaled sharply down his nose. “About the other night. What happened. With us.” Ahh. No further clarification needed there. I searched his face, my heart working overtime. “You made it very clear that, as far as you were concerned, it was going to be a one-time thing,” I said slowly. “You made it very clear that you could hate me and still want to fuck me. And I’m not the type of person who keeps throwing herself at the things that hurt her. So no. I haven’t brought it up. What would have been the point? Would you have made me a cup of tea and sat and listened while I tried to convince you how good we could be together?”

He snorted dismissively. “Exactly.”

“Evening, Wendy,” he said. She squeezed him tight, then made a very theatrical show of shoving him off away. “Evening, Wendy? Don’t you ‘Evening, Wendy’ me. I’ve been making those cursed biscuits for you every year, and you haven’t once bothered to show up and eat them. No one else likes them, you cheeky shit. What a waste of ingredients!”

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.

“I know you’re not about to forget your manners and make me introduce myself to your pretty little companion, Kingfisher of the Ajun Gate.”

I just figured you’d cut yourself off after two or something. I’ve been waiting for you to come out with something along the lines of…” I cleared my throat, pitching my voice low. “‘A good warrior never dulls his senses with drink. I must always be ready to fight.’” Fisher leaned back in his chair “That’s supposed to be me?” “That is you,” I said. “Bullshit. I don’t sound that pretentious.”

“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.”

This wasn’t just an apartment Fisher had rented for the night. This place belonged to Fisher. It had belonged to his mother once, maybe, and now it was his.