Brimstone (Fae & Alchemy, #2)

by Callie Hart

“What are you talking about?”

“What are you? Why are you here?” “Ed-Edina,” the thing stuttered. “Edina. Edina. I am Edina.”

“She is in sha-sha-shadow. I cannot see.” “You’re scaring me.” “Fear is not… real, Saeris Fane,” she croaked.

“Edina, what’s in the book? Why is it so important? Tell me!”

“They told you. About the rot,” she said in a clear voice. “They told you it would come. It’s here, now. You must find the book in order to stop it. Without it, the decay will spread until it swallows this realm and millions more with it. I have seen it, Saeris. Find the book. Stop the spread. It’s the only way.”

“Find it. But do not tell him about it. I mean it. It’s important. He can’t know about the book. Only you. Do you understand?”

“At the end, make sure he knows that I’d do it all again.” What did that mean?

“Osha?”

“Why were you calling my mother’s name?”

“Is she contagious?” and “She’ll be fine after she eats something. What time’s dinner?”

“What’s Nevercross?”

“It’s our political seat,”

“A city unlike any other. Our buildings have stood for millennia, protected from the outside world. We school our children there. We heal the sick th...

“In the catacombs below ...

“What does that mean, called by the gods? Like, you found religion?”

“You’ll come up with something, Fane. You always do. You’re very smart for a twenty-five-year-old.”

It smelled good in here—like dry paper and earth, warm vanilla and chocolate. Comforting.

The Smart Mouth is not so smart now, it purred. The Smart Mouth sounds stupid. “Shit. Shit, shit, shit! We are definitely going to die.” “You’re choking me, Carrion. Let go so I can move!”

“What’s happening? What can

you see?” “Be quiet.” “What’s that smell?” “How the fuck should I know?” “Ow! Oh, oh shit, I’m standing on something soft.” “Pick up your fucking feet!”

“Fisher? Fisher. Are we nearly at the door? Ow, what the hell was that? Something hit my arm really hard.” “It was ...

“Why the fuck are your eyes closed?” I demanded.

“I don’t know! It was weird, not being able to see anything. Closing them

“Because I knew… you wouldn’t like it,” I grunted. Six. Five. “Fisher?” Four. “Fisher, why are we sprinting straight for that window?” Three. He started to slow, but I grabbed him by the back of the armor Renfis had lent him, and I held on tight. Two. “Pick up your fucking feet, Your Highness,” I snarled. One. I threw him out of the window. Howling, dry wind ripped at my clothes as I launched out of the damned thing after him. “Fuck you, Fisher!” Even hurtling toward the ground at a rate of knots, the smuggler still didn’t shut up.

“Apologies, madam. We had a little argument with gravity. Looks like gravity won.”

“You’re too pale,”

“What do you mean, too pale?”

“I mean, even the dead in Zilvaren have more color in their cheeks than you do. The suns are pretty intense here. Everyone’s burned or tanned, or both. You look like you’ve lived underground all your life. It’s making people stare.”

“If you exhaust all of your magic, you’ll be as powerless as me, then?”

“Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. I’ll still know how to hold a fucking sword.”

“All right. There’s no need to be rude about it. Can you—look, can you just stop scowling at people? This is the Hub. Zilvaren’s elite live here. Everybody knows everybody, and we do not look like we belong to the city’s rich and well-to-do. If you keep glowering like that, they’re definitely going to notice us.” “This is the n...

“That smells like a sewer,”

“It does. But you’ll be relieved to know that this is actually how the Hub’s supply of clean water is delivered. Delightful, right?”

“I can’t reach it. There’s nothing for me to stand on,”

“You’re gonna have to let me boost up on your shoulder.” “No.” “All right, then, you boost yourself up on my shoulder. Either way, one of us has to get up there, and unless you can grow your arms or something…” “For fuck’s sake.” I made a cradle for his boot out of my hands. “Just get it over with already.”

The next few minutes were very annoying. I had Swift’s ass in my face for a...

which were thirty seconds I would have to remember to blot from my memory onc...

“Fine. Where is this old haunt of yours?”

“You are going to love this place. They have this ale that, well, yes, it is distilled from rat urine, but—”

“Carrion!”

“I’m joking, I’m ...

“Seriously. Can’t you...

someone’s joking,...

Your Highness.

“I don’t like that,” the smuggler groused. “Really? I’d say it’s really fucking handy that I’m trained in plant medicines.” “No, not… that.” He had to take a breath between words. “Your Highness. I don’t like it when you call me… Your Highness.” I snorted. “You are the true heir to the Winter Throne, are you not?” “All right. I’ll start calling you Lord Cahlish, then, shall I?” “Not if you want to keep your fucking tongue,” I growled. Carrion straightened, looking up at the ceiling as he thought about this. “Umm. Yeah, I kinda need my tongue.” He took a deep breath and then sighed it back out. “People do seem to like it.” I almost laughed. Almost. Gods, I was losing my mind. The male was ridiculous. “Just keep searching for the still, Swift.”

“Fisher, look at me.”

“Kingfisher, look at what you did to me!”

“The wages of your pride, Fisher,”

“What do you think? Am I still beautiful?” “Always,”

“I’ve never considered drinking your blood before now, Fisher, but… I’ve got to say, I’m pretty fucking excited about this.” I clinked my cup against his. “You’re welcome, Swift.” We both downed the concoction and immediately began seizing.