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It was harsh, but sometimes the cruel things we said served the kindest purpose.
Kingfisher didn’t pay him a lick of attention. He was still glaring at me. “This sword has slain thousands,” he seethed. “I wouldn’t have thought that was anything to brag about,” I replied. “You should probably get it looked at.”
Before Madra drove that sword into her pool, stilling every pool in every realm, Belikon used the pathways for supplies. It was the only way to trade in many magical items. When the pathways closed, the door to our supply trains slammed closed, too. You shouldn’t have been able to touch that sword, let alone draw it. And the silver responded to you. You activated it. You did what only an Alchemist can do. So, no. Human or not, I could not have just left you there to die.”
In the years to come, when I looked back at this moment, I would be glad that I’d taken the leap and jumped. This was the kiss to end all kisses. Demanding, urgent, and carnal.
Fisher would need a sizable space to house his fucking ego, after all.
“We have a fucking Alchemist?” “She’s mine,” Fisher said.
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.
But you couldn’t hate something without caring about it just a little, too.
“Lupo Proelia. Kingfisher’s wolves,” he said, sighing. “There are eight of us, usually. Though our numbers have been reduced of late. We fight as a team, working together, just as wolves do. I’m sure you’ve noticed the wolf on some of our armor.”
“Danya, I swear on the seven gods, if you don’t shut up, I will toss you out of here myself,” Ren muttered darkly.
The stars tumbled from the heavens, and hell rose up to meet them.
He thought for a moment, appearing to decide whether he’d answer the question. Then he said, “I was wrong, y’know. You are a good thief.” “What have I stolen?” But he smiled a small, sad smile, slowly shaking his head.
“I’m Saeris. I’m an Alchemist. I—” We know who she is, the quicksilver hissed. She is the dawn. She is the moon. She is the sky. She is oxygen in our lungs.
“Be unrelenting and unmerciful in the face of the wicked dead,” Fisher said. Ren laid a steadying hand on my shoulder. “And if you should find soul sundered from flesh, order a drink for us at the first tavern you come across in the afterlife. We’ll settle the tab when we get there.”
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“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.
Not the brother. The Kingggfisshhherrrr, the quicksilver buzzed. Save him. Save the gates. Save Yvelia.
“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
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Lorreth pretended to swallow down vomit. “Urgh. He would not try and fuck a witch.” “No, he’s right,” Carrion said with a sigh. “I would. Y’know. Just to say that I’d done it.”
“And you?” he said to Carrion. “You’re ready for that?” “Sure. Why not. I’m too pretty to die old, anyway.”
If I wanted him to be, he would be the axis around which I revolved. I would be his.
He would be my end, this male. He would claim my better days and carry me during my worst. He would show me the meaning of ecstasy and drown me in it until I fucking died.
I sighed as his mouth traveled from mine, along my jaw, hovering over the shell of my ear. Goose bumps exploded down the backs of my arms and legs, the hair at the back of my neck standing to attention as his hot breath bloomed over my skin. “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.”
There were moments that were gifts, meant to be cherished only for as long as you could remember them.
Pointing at the runes on my index and middle fingers, he named them one at a time. “Earth. Air. Fire. Water. Salt. Brimstone. Quicksilver. The full gamut. More power than any Alchemist I’ve ever encountered.
“Only the gods are eternal,” I told him. And I cut off Malcolm’s head.
He is the storm. You are the peace that must come after it. Tell me, do you believe in the fates, Alchemist?
“There are two kinds of forever, Alchemist. One is heaven. The other is hell. It doesn’t matter what I do. Make sure you choose your version of immortality wisely.”
“Fifty-five thousand, nine hundred and eighty-five,” he said. “You miscounted.” I just looked at him. “How foolish of me. I guess I’d better start over, then.” “Fisher.” “One.” Schinggg . . . “Two.” Schinggg . . . “Fisher. You didn’t need to do that.” Tal groaned.
“You had better pull through this, Oshellith,” I told her. “For better or for worse, I get the feeling that you’re about to turn everything upside down.”
