Strength

by W. J. May

  There was a hitch in Evie’s step and even Ellanden hesitated as they rounded the corner and saw what lay in store. For a split second, neither of them moved. Then he pulled a twisted coil from his pocket and knelt beside her in the sand.

  “Are you ready for this?”

  As a wolf, she was unable to answer. But a silent communication passed between the two as they locked eyes. A second later, he looped the salcor around her neck.

  “After all these years of waiting,” he joked nervously, “you’re finally my prisoner.”

  The princess tensed automatically, waiting for the enchantment to take effect, waiting for some outward sign of her newfound servitude. There was a reason such things were popular with slavers and jailors. Until the terms of her capture were met, there was no escaping its magical hold.

  But nothing happened. Either Ellanden wasn’t nearly as strong-willed as he thought he was, or the rope itself had yet to be tested. One way or another, she hoped she never had to find out.

  “All right,” he stood up briskly, wiping the sand from his hands, “same plan as usual. You just stand there and look depressed...leave the rest to me.”

  She could have smiled. She bit him instead.

  Seven hells!

  As it turned out, the salcor worked after all. Even a simple rebellion, even a little joke, and she was rearing back with a yelp of pain—magically punished for raising a hand to her master.

  Ellanden looked down with a start, then tilted his head curiously. “Are you okay? Was that the rope?”

  She glared up at him, too frightened to do anything more.

  “Interesting...” he murmured, staring at the loop in his hand. “I might ask Cosette to let me hang on to this thing...”

  She glared again, stomping her foot in the sand.

  “You’re right—not the time.” He filed the idea away for later, stepping fearlessly onto the sand. “We have a ship to steal...”

  SAY WHAT YOU WANT ABOUT the prince of the Fae—and Evie had said plenty—the man was a born performer.

  The second they set foot on the sand, a kind of transformation came over him. Gone was the caution, gone was the poise. The man who replaced them was about two breaths away from being committed. He threw back his head, tossed back his hair, and used his deadly sword as a walking stick—strolling thoughtlessly forward like an eccentric beachcomber walking his dog.

  It was just fifty yards to the Carpathians, but the fae was crossing them fast. When they were close enough to be seen, he lifted his hand with a beaming smile.

  “Hello, there! So good to see a friendly face—it feels like I’ve been walking for ages!”

  Wherever he was hiding, Evie could almost feel the vampire cringe. The Carpathians turned around slowly. In all likelihood, they had never been called ‘friendly’ in their lives.

  The one in front looked the fae up and down, lips parting in surprise.

  “You must be lost.”

  You must be CRAZY is more like it.

  Ellanden flashed another smile, deciding to be a little of both.

  “I’m afraid so.” He came to a stop just a few yards away, towing Evie by his side. “Is this the dock that’s closest to Tarnaq? I have a ship just around the corner that I’m looking to moor.”

  When the fae had shared his plan with the others, they thought he was crazy. But truth be told, it was rather predictable in terms of how his plans tended to go.

  The fae wanted a ship?

  In typical Ellanden fashion, he simply pretended he already had one.

  The Carpathian followed his gaze before staring back incredulously.

  “You have a ship you’re looking to moor?”

  If it wasn’t so terrifying, it might have almost been funny. The usual menace and aggression had given way to complete and utter disbelief.

  “This is a port, is it not?” Ellanden asked charmingly. “Or have I come by mistake?”

  Evie’s eyes darted between them, waiting with bated breath. By now, some of the shock was wearing off and the soldiers were beginning to realize what a golden opportunity had wandered into their midst. There were several covert glances before another man stepped forward with a smile.

  “Not at all. In fact, you should stay a while.” He looked the prince up and down slowly, eyes lingering on certain parts. “We’ll make sure you have a good time.”

  Ellanden tensed involuntarily, but never broke character.

  “That sounds...memorable.” He made a conscious effort not to reach for his bow and kept babbling on with a grin. “But right now all I’m in the market for...is a market!”

  He laughed loudly, as if he’d made a joke. The Carpathians stared back blankly.

  “Let me explain.” He took a step closer, dragging Evie beside him in the sand. “I’m in what you might call the hospitality business—providing goods and services to men such as yourselves.”

  He gave the rope a sharp tug, yanking Evie forward.

  Only then did they notice she was a shifter. Only then did they notice it was a magic rope.

  “You’re a slaver?” the Carpathian asked in surprise.

  Ellanden shuddered theatrically, making a show of examining his nails.

  “That’s such a harsh word. I prefer the term ‘facilitator’. People tell me what they’re in the market for and I provide it—for the right price.”

  Seven hells...he actually winked.

  The Carpathians didn’t quite know what to make of this. There was a series of murmurs from the ones in back, while the other glanced down the shoreline.

  “This ship of yours,” he said slowly, “it’s full of—”

  “Merchandise,” Ellanden finished brightly, seemingly oblivious to the hazardous consequence of his words. “We’ve got shifters, nymphs, naiads, witches—you name it. The one things we don’t have is satyrs,” he added seriously. “We had some trouble a few years back.”

  Evie closed her eyes.

  If we survive this, we’re staging an intervention.

  This proclamation was met with even more surprise. The Carpathians were an invasive people—hunters and aggressors. They were used to tracking down victims, provoking the fight themselves. When prey wandered so willingly into their midst? They were at a bit of a loss.

  That being said, they were also a suspicious people.

  And the fae was acting more suspicious than most.

  “A whole ship full of merchandise, huh?”

  A deep voice rumbled from the center of the horde, sending a host of chills racing down Evie’s spine. She watched breathlessly as a new man came forth. This one had a bronze notch on his belt, and the others stepped aside with instinctual deference as he slowly made his way to the front.

  In hindsight, Evie had to credit Ellanden with standing his ground. If it was possible, this man was even bigger and more frightening than the ones they’d seen before. He wasn’t shy either.

  He crossed the space between them, standing a full head above the young prince.

  “Fae aren’t known for being slavers,” he continued slowly, fixing Ellanden with a piercing gaze. “As I recall, your kind fought fiercely against that sort of thing in the Great War.”

  Despite all his instincts to scream and run, Ellanden flashed a carefree smile.

  “What can I say—times have changed. Now we have to seize opportunity where we can.”

  In hindsight, he may have regretted using those exact words. The commander smiled, baring every single one of his teeth as the rest of the battalion laughed darkly behind him.

  Evie shivered involuntarily, unable to stop herself.

  She might have been grateful for the added use of claws and fangs, but each of the soldiers looked much more intimidating from such a reduced height. Especially their commander.

  Another man pushed to the front of the crowd, wielding a brutish knife.

  “Let’s just take the fae and be done with it—”

  Ellanden grabbed the blade with a cry of delig
ht.

  What are you—

  “Is that Dekraxi steel?” He yanked it from the man’s hand, running the tips of his fingers along the edge. “Very nice. But it’s nothing compared to Becatti craftsmanship.”

  The soldier faltered, tilting his head. “You have—”

  “In the hold of the ship.” In a sudden movement the prince twirled the knife around, pressing the handle into the soldier’s hand. “The ship I’m still looking to dock, by the way...”

  By now, the Carpathians were beginning to wonder if he was a touch mad. They stood in silence for a moment before one in the back whispered to another.

  “Fae are also known for their love of drink.”

  Is that a thing?

  “Tell you what,” the commander offered, gesturing to Evie with a smile. “I’ll keep this one as a sign of good faith, then send men with you to see the others. If this ‘merchandise’ is as impressive as you say, then I’m sure you’d be welcome to anchor at port.”

  Evie cringed back, leaning into Ellanden’s leg.

  “Absolutely not,” the fae said briskly. “I’m running a business, not a charity. Besides, I’m partial to this one myself.” He glanced down with a touch of scorn. “Whatever its deficiencies...”

  The commander stared back in silence as the man with the blade pushed forward again.

  “I don’t think you understand.” He pressed the tip to the base of Ellanden’s throat. “Where I come from, it’s unwise to refuse such a generous offer—”

  There was a blur of movement, then the man’s arm cracked in half.

  “I don’t think you understand,” Ellanden said softly, “where I come from, you get only what you pay for.” His eyes flickered to those in the back. “I believe the Fae are known for that as well.”

  It was a turning point. All that could be done now was wait.

  While the fae clearly wouldn’t win in combat against them, none of the Carpathians was particularly eager to be the collateral involved in taking him down. Besides, they were intrigued. Not only was the man beautiful, but he was clearly a bit unhinged. Borderline psychotic.

  And if there really was a ship...

  The commander offered his hand with a gleaming smile. “In that case, you have a deal.”

  Crap—I forgot the signal!

  The princess froze in horror as the two men shook, trying to gather her senses and remember what they’d discussed. It wasn’t a fireball, it wasn’t a shout—

  “Excellent.”

  Ellanden withdrew his hand as soon as was possible, the smile still lingering on his face. For a split second, time stood still. Then he looked down at the princess, staring deep into her eyes.

  “I release you from service.”

  ...that’s it.

  And just like that...all hell broke loose.

  Chapter 3

  It was hard to say how it actually got started. Everything seemed to happen at once.

  As the rope broke free, Evie launched herself into the air—jaws closing around the throat of the nearest Carpathian. At the same time another wolf sprang out of nowhere, attacking the soldiers from behind. At the same time a wave of fire and a volley of arrows came from two different directions, catching the battalion in the crosshairs. And at the same time the commander threw his fist into the air...sounding the order to attack.

  It would be the last command he would ever give.

  In a decision that probably saved his life, Ellanden didn’t reach for his bow. He reached for the salcor instead—lassoing the commander around the neck. The man let out a feral roar and lunged towards him, but was immediately thrown onto his back by the punishing enchantment.

  “KILL THEM—”

  He tried to shout, but the magical cord tightened once again. By now, the fae had reached for his bow. He nocked an arrow to the string, levelling it at the man’s face.

  “And you...” he said in a voice too cold and angry to sound anything like his own, “I release you as well.”

  The rope sprang free just as the arrow flew across the sand, embedding itself deep in the commander’s throat. There was one more attempt to yell, one more dizzied attempt to pull it loose and charge forward, then the man went still—never to move again.

  Atta boy.

  Evie streaked back to his side, arriving just as he threw the salcor again—circling it around the necks of three others. The thing wasn’t meant to be a weapon, but it certainly played the part. The moment the soldiers raised their hands against him, they were beaten back with a supernatural power that far exceeded their own. The prince actually laughed aloud, delighted with the spell.

  “No need for swords at all. They just need to make this in a bigger size.”

  She rolled her eyes, vaulting forward to finish the men before they could lift to their feet. But that was the last bit of levity the friends would see. The Carpathians had recovered from the surprise of the attack and were regrouping themselves. At last, all that destructive power had come to a head.

  Seven hells!

  No sooner had the princess torn into the first soldier than a knife flew out of nowhere, slashing across her side. She let out a cry as Ellanden fired two retaliatory arrows, killing her attacker on the spot, but more were already coming. Many more than they could handle themselves.

  The friends exchanged a silent look. A wish for luck? A final goodbye? Then they lifted their eyes and braced themselves in the sand...ready for whatever the night had in store.

  It was so fast.

  No matter how many fights and skirmishes Evie had seen since leaving the royal caravan, she didn’t know if she’d ever get used to the speed. A flash of silver, the whip of a cloak, the dull impacts as flesh pounded against flesh. It was enough to make one dizzy.

  Yet there she was, fighting in the middle of it.

  She’d regretted her size earlier, when she’d been looking up at the horde from the ground, but now she saw it as a huge advantage. While the rest of the Carpathians charged around, towering over everything in sight—she darted in between them like a blade. Clawing and biting and inflicting unspeakable amounts of damage. Always gone by the time they’d turned around to see.

  On the other side of the battalion, Seth was doing the same thing. Granted, his style seemed a bit more direct than hers...

  “Why won’t you just die?!”

  There was a spray of sand as a Carpathian battle-axe cratered into the ground where the wolf had been standing. It should have sliced him in half, it should have cut straight through the bone, except he was no longer there. The soldier wielding the blade let out a violent curse.

  “When this is over, I’m going to skin you alive and wear you as a coat.”

  This time, Evie was able to see the shifter circling around him. He hadn’t escaped the battle unscathed, but his eyes glittered and she could have sworn he was smiling. At the very least, he seemed to take the threat as a personal challenge. Without an iota of fear he threw himself straight on top of the Carpathian, matching blade against fang as the two squared off.

  If he hadn’t been so distracted, he might have dispatched the man sooner. But the entire time he’d been fighting, the shifter had kept one eye trained on the lovely princess across the sand.

  Cosette and Freya had started on different sides of the battalion, but worked their way back together—standing with their backs to the ocean and their feet in the waves. Given their combined firepower, the two had drawn quite a crowd. But so far, they were managing to hold them off.

  Granted, there was no telling how long that might last...

  “Get down!”

  At the sound of Ellanden’s voice the princess ducked immediately, dropping to the sand just as two blades crashed together above her head. Her teeth vibrated with the impact but she sprang up regardless, using one soldier to leap onto the other.

  It was violent, but it was quick.

  She sank her teeth into the one man’s shoulder, thrashing about and splintering the bone whil
e Ellanden disarmed his companion. As the spare blade flew into the air, the fae flipped around to catch it. At the same time Evie dove forward, knocking the remaining soldier to the ground.

  And then there was none.

  Her skin was raw and bleeding. Her whole body ached with unspeakable fatigue. But with a rush of adrenaline, she threw herself onto the fallen soldier.

  ...and that is where her luck ran out.

  The moment she leapt forward a bronzed club flew out of nowhere, knocking her straight out of the air. She landed with a yelp of pain in the sand, trying to recover her senses as the giant shadow of a man loomed over her—swinging the weapon back and forth in his hand.

  ...ow.

  Never had she felt such a thing. It was as if her entire ribcage had caved inward.

  “Evie!”

  She tried to twist her head. Ellanden was racing towards her, shouting something that she couldn’t understand, but he would never reach her. No sooner had he started running than the fae was overtaken by soldiers of his own. As they swarmed around him, she lifted her eyes once more towards the heavens. The man was still standing over her—still swinging that wretched club.

  “It was brave of you and your friends to come here,” he murmured, kneeling down so they were eye to eye. Behind him, the spray of florescent fire sweeping across the sand abruptly stopped. The princess shuddered to think what that might mean. “Brave, but foolish. You had to know you were never going to leave this beach alive.”

  Actually, we were really hoping that wouldn’t be the case...

  The princess tried to pull in a breath, but let out a quiet whimper instead. Her lungs weren’t working. Her legs weren’t working. Even her vision was failing—the edges of the bloody picture were beginning to grow dark.

  “Asphyxiation,” the man said bluntly, squinting down at her in the sand. “Not a bad way to die, but I have something special for you. You see, looking at your friend piqued my interest.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “I’d like to see what you look like before you go...”

  Before the princess could understand what was happening, the man pressed a common silver coin to the side of her neck. She let out another cry, twisting and writhing, but her strength was failing and the man was using both hands. With a steaming hiss, the forbidden metal burned through her skin—blinding her with pain as it dug its way to the other side. At first, she thought it was a random torture. Not until the air began to shimmer did she understand what he’d meant.