Quicksilver (Fae & Alchemy, #1)

by Callie Hart

Solace. The blade with the crescent moon pommel was a god sword, after all. Of course it held quicksilver. And it was awake. Alive. Listening. Talking. Talking to me. No time to marvel at that.

“You promised him!” he shouted. Nodding, I raised the sword. “I promised I’d stay here. If I run off into the dark by myself, I’ll definitely die. He knew I’d have better odds if I was with you.”

“Stubborn girl,” he growled. “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.”

AHHHHHHHHH

“I’ll wound them. You end them,” he snarled.

AHHHHHHH

“She’s been kicking ass, Brother. She wields Solace almost as well as your father did.” Well, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration. It was better than the general telling him I was a liability, though, and I’d sure as hell take that. Fisher regarded me with something that looked a lot like pride. “Is that so?”

“KINGFISHERRRR!” The shrill cry rose above the shouting and whooping. Even the angry crash of thunder didn’t swallow it. It was female. All three of us whipped away from the celebration taking place, searching for the voice. It didn’t take long to find it. There, on the other side of the river, was a woman in a ruby red dress, her bright blond hair streaming out behind her like a banner of gold on the howling wind. It was Everlayne. And she was flanked by at least a hundred vampires.

Ren cried out, the sound strangled, and it looked like he would ignore his own words and charge blindly into the river. It was Layne’s outstretched palm that stopped him.

saw Everlayne’s mouth move, but I wasn’t blessed with Fisher’s gifts. I couldn’t cast my voice, and my human hearing was nowhere near as sharp as his, either. She spoke four or five words, and the tiny flicker of hope went out in Fisher’s eyes. Ren saw his reaction and dropped down onto the snowbank, landing heavily on his knees, his legs refusing to support him anymore.

Ren shook his head. He stared at Layne, and she stared right back at him. Her shoulders shook, her chest hitching up and down unevenly. I considered it a small blessing that I couldn’t hear her crying over the roar of the rain hitting the river. “She can’t come home now,” Ren whispered in a broken voice. “She’s his.”

“What do you want, Taladaius? Why did you bring her here?” The blond vampire sneered at Ren. “Careful, Renfis. I am Lord of Midnight to you. I won’t be addressed so familiarly by one so low—” “He’s a million times the male you’ll ever fucking be,” Fisher hissed. “Now answer the fucking question and tell us why she’s here!” “Why do you think?” Taladaius answered tersely. “He bid me bring her. She’s a trap. He wants to bend you to his will, so he’s taken something precious to you, and he’s broken it. Are you shocked?” He didn’t wait for Fisher’s reply. “You will either come and try to save her, even though doing so would be futile, or else you’ll come for vengeance’s sake. Either way, he knows you’ll come. He doesn’t care why. Only that you do.”

“I suppose we’ll see about that, won’t we.” Taladaius considered his fingernails. “Your darling Everlayne was bitten twelve hours ago. You can do the math. As we speak, my father rides north with the better part of his horde. If you aren’t there to meet him when he arrives at his destination, he’ll see that she makes it through the change and then spends the rest of eternity on her back, being fucked raw by Ammontraíeth’s most depraved residents, one… after another… after another. Or you give him what he wants. It’s that simple.”

“Yes, it’s true you’re on his wish list. Always, my friend. But he doesn’t just want you this time. You might have been a valuable player in this game before, but a lot’s changed of late. There are far more interesting pieces on the board.” “He doesn’t get anyone else.” “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. The terror that rolled off him hit me like a slap to the face. I felt it deep in my bones. And… I felt something else, too. Taladaius. His attention shifted to me, though his dark eyes, brimming over with merriment, remained locked on Fisher. “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.”

FUCKKKKKKKK NOOOOOOOOO

Come on. Talk to me. Tell me something. Anything, I said silently. You can’t just shut down. But still not a word. Clearly, he thought sinking into a catatonic state was a perfectly acceptable coping mechanism in light of the situation.

“It’s mine,” Danya seethed. We all saw her lunge for Avisiéth. I couldn’t have stopped her from taking such an ill-advised course of action, but Fisher, Ren, and Lorreth could have. None of them did. Some lessons had to be learned the hard way. The sword she’d carried had already been silent when it had been given to her. Not even an echo of magic had remained inside it. She’d probably heard tales about what would happen to someone if they touched a god sword that didn’t belong to them, but her pride was such that she really did believe the weapon hanging at Lorreth’s hip was hers. He let her take it. The second her hand closed around its grip, she unleashed a bloodcurdling scream, and her hand detonated into a cloud of pink mist. A shock wave of blinding white light surged from Avisiéth’s pommel, and Danya was thrown across the map room. She crashed down onto a chair, reducing it to kindling in an instant. “Holy fucking gods,” Ren uttered. “It took her fucking hand.”

“Maybe she’ll stop punching people in the face now.” There wasn’t a scrap of sympathy in Fisher’s voice.

Danya didn’t deserve her hand to be regrown. Her theatrics had reached a point where she deserved to live with the consequences of her shitty temper. That wasn’t a charitable thought on my part, but I was well and truly over her attitude. She’d been a bitch ever since Kingfisher had shown up back at the camp. We had more important things to worry about than a petulant warrior who threw a temper tantrum every time she showed up in this fucking tent. Lucky for her, Fisher was more forgiving than me.

“Our Alchemist faced the enemy tonight and stood her ground bravely. We have among us a newly blooded warrior.”

I did not want any of them looking at me like this. Fisher’s quiet pride. Ren’s warm approval. Lorreth’s wolfish grin. Under normal circumstances, it might have been nice to be recognized for the feeders I’d taken down, but with Everlayne’s outlook so bleak, I couldn’t bear it. “I don’t want a fuss,” I said.

“My blood in thanks, sister,”

“It was my honor to fight alongside you,” he said. “My blood in thanks, sister.”

“I give you my blood in thanks, Saeris Fane.”

“HUMAN” had come first. Then “Oshellith,” or “Osha,” said with a hefty amount of disdain. Then “Little Osha,” which had first been mocking but had then shifted to an endearment. But Fisher had said my name. Finally. And it was… weird.

“That seat is reserved for the lady of the house, you stupid girl. Etiquette dictates that only Fisher’s wife is permitted to sit there. It’s a position of high honor meant for a Fae female born into one of the old houses, and you’re just sprawled out there like you own the damn seat. It’s offensive that he even lets a human sit at the same table as him. But this…” She waved at me with her remaining hand. “This is just too much. Like I said. You should move.”

Ren assessed the scene, shot me a wink, and said, “Don’t you worry, Saeris. You’re perfect right where you are.”

The scent of the forest enveloped me as strong, tattooed hands rested on top of my shoulders. “No rules have been broken, Danya. And even if they had, that wouldn’t be any of your business.” Aghast, the female took him in, standing there behind me, his hands on my body. “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—”

“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?” Whoa. Belong together? Behind me, I felt Fisher stiffen. Any moment now, he’d spit out some scathing remark, telling them not to be so fucking stupid. I would laugh off the sting of his contempt at Ren’s suggestion, and we’d all go back to worrying about the truly important matter at hand: Everlayne. But Fisher said, in a very calm tone, “My personal life isn’t up for public discussion.”

“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 refrained from commenting. I had suspected that was why Fisher had made Carrion take that bath, but I’d never said it out loud. Not even to give him shit. I didn’t know how it made me feel back then. And I was too much of a coward to admit how it made me feel now.

regret to inform you that I am still happily mated and married, Carrion Swift. And my husband isn’t the type to share.”

The Fae healer had lowered her hands again, but I was staring at them, eyes fixed on them. They were marked with runes. Some of her fingers bore one or two runes. Others had none. There was an elegant design on the back of her right hand, but the other was bare. Louder, the ringing in my ears intensified. I hadn’t even realized that I was crossing the forge until I was standing in front of Te Léna and I was gesturing to her hands. “Do you… I’m sorry, I, uhh, I’ve never seen such pretty tattoos before. Would you mind showing them to me?” “You sound weird,” Carrion said. “And I’m trying to help her forget the tattoos, not make a big deal out of them. Gods, you sure know how to ruin a guy’s chance of getting laid.” Te Léna laughed again. “Carrion, let me put this as plainly as I possibly can. So long as the sun still rises and sets every night, I am never going to sleep with you.” To me, she said, “Of course. Thank you, Saeris. I think they’re pretty, too. My husband and I designed them together.” She had beautiful hands. Graceful and slender, with long fingers. Three out of the five fingers on her left hand bore runes. Two on her index finger, two on her middle finger, and only one on her little finger. On her right hand, there was a single rune on her index finger and another on her ring finger, and that was it. She traced her fingers over the ink on the back of her right hand, beaming as she extended it out for me to see properly. “It’s a Fae custom to mark our skin on our...

“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.” “Right…” Oh, gods, I needed to sit down. “So it’s just a tradition now. People cover their hands in runes… for luck.” “I wouldn’t say we cover ourselves in them,” Te Léna answered. “I knew a couple who decided on seven runes once. Seven is an auspicious number, after all. But there are those who considered that a little greedy.” From the tone of her voice, Te Léna herself was amongst that number. Seven? Seven runes. My mind scrambled to try and remember how many runes had marked my fingers. How many runes had interlocked on the back of my right hand. I had no idea, but there had been a lot of them. So, so many. “And what about script? You know. Writing?” I could only get a few words out at a time. “Do people… get that sometimes? Going around… their wrists?” “Oh, no. Definitely not. You only see that kind of thing in storybooks,” Te Léna scoffed. “They called it a God Binding. A blessing from the gods themselves. They weren’t real,...

“The lovers in those stories always suffered terribly. One of them always died. They were beautiful tales, but they ended with heartbreak.”

“Weakness. Vulnerability.” “I am not weak, Fisher! I’m not like those butterflies, pathetic, hatching and dying in the cold—” “Not you! Me!” He thumped himself in his chest, suddenly furious. “My weakness! My vulnerability! 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. You are the thing that Malcolm will hurt in order to hurt me, and I couldn’t… couldn’t fucking bear it!”

“The Oshellith hatch once in most Fae lifetimes. Up north, in the wastelands, far beyond Ajun Sky, where the dragons used to live. The air’s so cold there that it’ll freeze in your lungs if you breathe it in without a mask. No life exists there for long. But once in a thousand years, the howling winds drop, signaling the coming of the Oshellith. News of that event travels quickly. That’s when the bravest of our kind set out. They go on foot where no horse can go. When they reach the valley where the Oshellith hatch, they find the butterfly’s cocoons and they shield them with their bodies. They give them whatever heat they can, for as long as they can. It can take up to twelve hours for them to break out of those cocoons. But when they do…” Kingfisher swallowed, shaking his head. “It’s the most beautiful thing a person can experience in this lifetime. They glow blue and pink and silver, with an ethereal light. They have music, though no one knows how. A sweet, soft song that’s capable of healing. The Oshellith mate and lay their eggs, but once that’s done, they fill the air, and they dance. Protecting them while they live is considered a sacred rite that many die in order to perform. That’s what Oshellith means in Old Fae, Saeris. Most Sacred.”

“All names hold power in this place. Every name means something. We have true names that we don’t share with anyone. Not our friends. Not our families. Our mothers are often the only people who actually know it. And even a mother might use her child’s name to her own advantage in the pursuit of power. This place—it’s fucked, okay. And you show up, and you have one fucking name, and everybody knows it. And I couldn’t say it because I was scared. Of what it would do to me when I did. It would be like acknowledging you were here after all this time. So I called you Osha instead. But it meant more, Saeris. To me, it meant more.” He wasn’t being serious. There was no way. “All of this time…” I whispered. “But… you called me that from the very start.” Kingfisher nodded slowly, eyes shining bright. “Most sacred,” he repeated, whispering the words. I covered my face, and I gave in. I sobbed. The name he gave me, the name I hated, was a declaration of what I meant to him even then. For a long, long time, all I could do was cry through this monumental revelation. Eventually, a kind of stillness settled inside me, though. “How did you know? That I was coming? You said that you knew.” Fisher set his jaw. “I was told. A long time ago. By my mother. She was an oracle. I didn’t believe her, but then, when I was taken—” He swallowed hard, his eyes watering. Quickly, he scooted to the edge of the bed, planting his bare feet against the floor. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t breathe! I ste...

“She wrote about you,” he whispered. “My mother. Pages and pages. She knew that she’d die soon, and so she wrote me a book. ‘A mother is always there for her son,’ she told me. ‘It doesn’t matter that he grows and steps into his power. Even the strongest warrior’s heart can break. His soul can still be crushed. Since I won’t be able to comfort you when the challenges before you feel too great, take this book and keep it as a guide. Above all, know this. There will be times when the world seeks to destroy you, Kingfisher. But you are stronger than you can ever know. You will not falter. And you will not face it all alone.’”

“She said, when I needed you most, you’d come blazing into my life like a meteorite, riding on a wave of chaos that would turn my whole world upside down. That you’d shine so brilliantly that you’d light up hell itself and guide me out of the darkness. She had no idea what your name would be. Just that you’d have dark hair, and a beautiful smile. And that I’d love you with a fierceness despite myself.” My heart squeezed, my throat burning with emotion. Centuries ago, a mother had looked into her son’s future, seeking comfort, to assure herself that he would live a good life. And she had seen the pain and suffering the fates had in store for her boy, and then she had seen me and known that he would be okay. The weight of that… Fuck, I couldn’t breathe. “She said she felt like she knew you. That you and she were friends, even though a thousand years stood between you. She… she drew you.” Fisher’s voice grew tighter as he fought to speak. Balancing on the edge of tears, he forced himself to laugh instead of cry. “And she captured you almost perfectly, too.”

“She was wrong, sometimes. About little things. Small details with big consequences.” He pointed to his ear. “In all of her drawings of you, your ears were like mine. You were Fae. And when I saw…” He sucked in a deep breath. Sat up a little straighter. “When I felt Solace calling to me and I stepped into that pool, I saw that you were human, and I knew in an instant how easily this place would destroy you. So I made the decision to leave you there. But I couldn’t leave you, could I?” he continued. “Your stomach was torn wide open. You were dying. I had no choice but to bring you back. So I decided to be awful to you, so you’d fucking hate me and want nothing to do with me.” “Stellar plan,” I whispered. “That really panned out.” His crooked smile nearly broke my heart. “Be honest. I think it worked a little bit.” Ruefully, I shook my head. “Would those marks have shown up on my hands if it had?” “No,” he admitted. “I don’t think they would.” “What do they mean, Fisher? For us?”

“Didn’t Te Léna tell you?” he asked. “I want you to tell me.”

“That’s what you were doing all that time you were gone? After I was attacked by the feeder? You were looking for a way to free yourself.” Fisher’s eyes were hollow. Slowly, he shook his head. “I was looking for a way to save you.” “So you evoked the waiting period. For me. For my own good. Because it was the right thing to do,” I snapped. Fisher laughed, the sound bitter. “Rejecting the bond altogether would have been the right thing to do.”

“Then why didn’t you?” “I’ve asked myself that question a lot. I’d decided that’s what I was going to do when I watched them darken on your skin. Especially when I saw the god bindings appear. But then, when it came down to it, I couldn’t do it. I don’t know why. I… I just couldn’t. But don’t worry. The month will pass, and nothing will change. First, we’re going to get Everlayne back. Then you’ll finish making the relics. Once that’s done, you’ll go back to Zilvaren and your brother.” I was drowning by the second, dragged deeper into misery, further from hope and happiness. “Oh, great. You’ve got it all figured out, then. Congratulations. I’m so happy for you.” Fisher looked stung by my tone. Good. He fucking should be. “Saeris—” “No. No, really. I’m thrilled that you’ve had so long to think about all of this. That you’ve known for hundreds of years that I was going to show up in your life. That you knew what those tattoos meant, and you got to decide that you were going to reject me for my own good and send me packing back to Zilvaren. I’m ecstatic that you’ve made all of these awful, difficult decisions on my behalf, Kingfisher.”

“Fuck the fates. They don’t get to decide shit for me. I decide what my future is going to be.”

“You have to go home, Saeris. You can go back and work to free your people. You can still be happy. I’m going to die, and—” My eyes snapped open. “What do you mean, you’re going to die? You aren’t dying. You’re just… you’re…” He let out the heaviest sigh I’d ever heard. He came and stood in front of me and dropped down into a crouch. When he reached for my hand, I pulled it away, slamming my elbow against the chest of drawers in the process. He tutted, reaching for my hand a second time. This time I let him have it. He threaded his fingers with mine and looked down at our joined hands for a very long time. “You’re right,” he said at last, looking up at me. “Being driven to the point of madness by pain and horrific hallucinations won’t kill me, no. But it’s no life. At least not one that I want to live. And I won’t be safe. I’ll end up hurting the people I care about. In the very least, I’ll be a burden, and I won’t saddle you or anyone else with the burden of caring for me. That’s just not happening.” “So you’re just gonna fucking kill yourself?” He was tensed, a bowstring ready to snap. “Renfis will hel—” I shoved him as hard as I could, pushing him away. He toppled back, landing on his ass, the move taking him by surprise. I jumped up and stepped over him, putting space between us. “Don’t you dare finish that fucking sentence,” I seethed. “You’re so… so fucking selfish!”

“Where are you going, Saeris?” he called after me. “To sleep. And in the morning, I’m going to the library, and I’m going to research how to save Everlayne and you. Because I don’t just throw my hands up and accept defeat when things get hard. I’m honestly shocked to learn that you do.”

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.”

I hadn’t wanted to own it, but I’d been jealous of Te Léna. I’d been so sure something was going on between her and Fisher, but now I knew better. After listening to her talk about her husband and seeing how happy she was when she showed me her marks, there was no doubt in my mind that she wasn’t interested in him. This left only one option: she was helping him somehow with the quicksilver in his head. And if he had to go and see her before he left and when he got back, then it really must be getting bad.

He picked me up, fast as hell, and stepped back into the twisting smoke before I could even think about calling him lazy for not walking back to his bedroom. But when we emerged through the gate, we weren’t in his room. We were back at the apartment in Ballard, standing in the living room above the bakery, surrounded by candles. They rested on the mantlepiece and the bookshelves. They covered the little dining table where we’d eaten breakfast and filled the windowsills of the huge bay windows with flickering light. Everywhere I looked, there were candles. Fisher smiled, his mouth pulled to one side, a dimple marking his cheek as he watched me taking it all in. I spun around, holding my hands over my mouth. “It’s beautiful,” I breathed. He came and stood close behind me, folding me into his arms. “It’s not finished yet.” His breath stirred my hair and something else, too, deep inside of me. I felt his power rush across my stomach as black smoke plumed from his hands, filling the room. Soon it was everywhere, cloaking everything from sight. Everything except the flickering flames of the candles. They lit up the darkness, a thousand burning points of light as brilliant as the stars. It felt as though we were up there with them, suspended in the void, where nothing could touch us, and no one could hurt us, and we had all the time we could possibly need. You did this for me? It felt wrong to speak out loud. I didn’t want my voice to ruin the illusion he’d created for us, so I a...