Sea Fae Trilogy

by C. N. Crawford

  Something particularly enraged him about this last part—like he wasn’t angry about the severed body parts, just the material that I used to secure them to the wall.

  “Bad men’s body parts,” I retorted. “Selfish, murderous, abusive assholes who break into your house and tie you up in thorns. That kind of man.” I looked back at him over my shoulder. “Case in point. I kill the bad ones, and I simply repurpose their organic material for other uses. Everyone wins. Except the people who deserve to die.”

  From behind me, he gripped the ropes of magic so tight they cut into my wrists. “You killed the prince of the Court of Lyonesse with iron. You slaughtered him without mercy after luring him into a helpless state.” Everything he was saying was factually correct, I’d give him that, but he made it all sound so wrong. Now, I really wanted to hurt him. “You are worthless.”

  “You say I’m worthless, and yet you obviously need me. Look, I am a good person. Or, at the worst, I am morally gray. You’re clearly the monster in this situation.”

  I’d simply refuse to comply, considering he was obviously a sadistic beast. What was the worst he could do? I could withstand torture if I had to. “You may not realize you’re asking for my help, but you are. And the answer is no. I won’t help you track whatever it is you want, because I despise you, and your desiccated heart will someday decorate my wall. With iron in it.”

  Silence filled the room, somehow more terrifying than his growling or his threats.

  From behind me, heat radiated from my attacker’s body as he clutched the bindings.

  At last, he spoke in a deep and quiet voice. “I could threaten to kill you, but I’m not sure you care sufficiently about your life. Given the state of it, I can understand why. Hating yourself is likely the one sensible thing you’re capable of.”

  My lip curled. “I’m not sure I like the tone you’re taking.”

  “You live in filth.”

  Was he serious? “You caused the filth when you flooded us.”

  “You don’t care about your own life, but you care about that little human. Do as I ask, and she will have food and shelter. Refuse, and she will be forced to wander the streets on her own.”

  I fell silent, desperately wishing I had the power to crush him for good. Whatever happened, I had to keep Gina safe. She was just a kid, really, and this had nothing to do with her. This was elite fae business, and the elite fae were basically monsters.

  “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I asked. “About giving her food and shelter.”

  He dropped his grip on the bindings behind me, and I struggled to stabilize myself.

  Slowly, he prowled around to stand in front of me, his movements precise. He stared down at me, and the eerie look in his gold eyes made me shiver. “I give you my sacred oath as the Ankou.”

  In general, the fae could lie. But when we uttered a sacred oath, we were bound to it for good. It was simply impossible to break it. He was serious. If he broke his oath, he would die.

  I flexed my wrists in their bindings, silently simmering with fury. If I helped him track whatever he wanted, at least Gina would be fed and safe.

  But I needed to get specific, because the fae could get tricky with their oaths. “When I say shelter, I mean specifically she needs a hotel room at The Savoy.” Why not? Everyone knew the assassins had tons of money. “All of her meals will be covered by room service—whatever she wants to eat, whenever she wants to eat it.”

  “You have my oath that those specific conditions will be met.”

  “And she’ll need cab rides to school in the morning, and a computer. But block access to YouTube.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about at this point.”

  “Forget about YouTube. But she needs rides to and from school in a cab.”

  “Fine.”

  “I need your oath for that, too.”

  “You have my sacred oath that she will remain in a room at The Savoy Hotel, served room service at her whim, with cab rides to and from school, until you help me track the object I need.”

  “And I’ll need an oath that once I help you find your thing, you will let me go free and not harm me.”

  “You make a lot of demands for someone who sleeps on rubbish bags.”

  “Oath or no deal,” I said.

  “You have my oath that I will let you go without harm once you help me find the object I seek.”

  I let out a long breath. Okay. So perhaps this wasn’t the worst turn of events. Except for the part where I had to spend more time with this maniac.

  “Will someone tell Gina where I’ve gone, and that I’ll be back?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’m in. Let’s find your … whatever it is. But I need more clothes.”

  He ignored that request and gripped me around the waist. His magic whispered around me—a seductive, sea-tinged power. It felt as if I were being lulled under the ocean waves….

  A sharp stab of regret pierced my chest. This was all happening rather quickly. Had I been too quick to agree to him?

  “Wait— wait.” I fought to keep my eyes open. “What’s the catch? I know there’s a—”

  The words fluttered away as images of ocean waves filled my mind, the pounding of foamy water against a rocky shore. Pressed against his strong body, I felt myself fall into freezing waters, my arms still wrenched behind my back.

  Chapter 6

  I woke still bound in ropes of sharp magic, arms twisted behind my back. I seemed to be in a freezing dungeon, still wearing nothing but the baggy underwear, which was now soaked with cold water. I lay on a damp sandstone floor, its surface coated in a freezing sludge. Wherever I was, it smelled like rotting fish.

  The cell I found myself in was about eight feet by six feet and faintly illuminated by a torch. Light shone through the iron gate, flecking the dungeon cell with squares of gold. Through the gate, I had a view of a dim sandstone hall lit by torches.

  The magical bindings cut into my skin. A bitter taste coated my tongue. I realized that at some point during my time here, I’d probably thrown up the toast in my system. Gross.

  Was I the only one in here? “Hello?”

  The sound of dripping water greeted me.

  I’d come in here stinking of sewage, and now I smelled of pee. Possibly my own. Hopefully my own.

  This wasn’t quite what I’d been picturing when the Ankou had suggested I join him on his mission. Then again, there was a reason I didn’t trust men. Especially not the beautiful ones.

  “Hello?” I tried again.

  “Oh, you’re awake now, hah? You were snoring for hours. Kept me awake,” brayed a woman with an American accent. “I can’t see you, honey. What did they throw you in for?”

  I wet my lips, then swallowed. Gods, I needed water. “Nothing, really. Well, apart from that I shot them.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’ll do it. What kind of creature are you? Demon of some kind?”

  “I’m a fae.”

  “Me, too! You don’t really smell fae, you smell like…. You know what it is? It’s like when you leave flowers in the vase too long and they get moldy, and then you finally have to throw them out and you just want to retch at the stench. I threw up in the sink once from that. That’s what you smell like.”

  “Thanks.”

  “You’re American.”

  “No. Not really. I mean, I lived there for a very long time.”

  “Southern,” she added.

  “Tennessee. Okay, can you tell me what’s happening? Are we in America, by any chance?”

  “We’re in a dungeon. Hang on, I didn’t tell you my name. My name is Debbie. Dungeon Debbie, hahahahaha! Gods, you know, I’ll tell you something, I have been making myself laugh over the years. Just me and the rats. Havin’ a good time.”

  I tried to move my face away from the part of the floor where I’d puked. “How long have you been in here?”

  “I don’t know. Couple of years, maybe. Could be fort
y.” She coughed. “Give or take. It’s hard to keep track of time in a dark hole of your own filth, you know what I mean? And to be honest, I really have no idea where we are. Dungeon seems kinda old for America, though. Could be China.”

  “Does the Ankou ever come down here?”

  “The what? I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

  “The big man with the crown. Does he come down here?”

  “Oh, I’d remember that if he had. I’ve been getting mighty lonely in here. He’s a big man, you said? Like, are we talking muscular or what? Does he have meaty hands? I like meaty hands. Get a good grip on your haunches.”

  “Never mind.”

  Something was dripping on my forehead, and I inched my body back, away from the gate. My back brushed against a rough, slimy wall.

  I’d made sure the Ankou was pretty clear on the Gina oath, but I’d been less demanding of the other oath. I’d demanded safety after I helped him find what he was looking for, but I’d said nothing about the living conditions before.

  “What are you in for?” I asked.

  “Well, you know, it was the funniest thing. I was in a bar, right—like a real dive bar in Boston with a bunch of old men—and this woman spilled her beer right down my shirt. And it was my favorite shirt, like, it has a green shamrock on it, and it says Irish today, hungover tomorrow. And I just thought that was a hoot. You know, I do like drinking, and as fae, we all come from Ireland originally, right?”

  “We come from the British Isles,” I corrected her. When they’d fallen, the fae had ended up in Ireland, Great Britain, and the islands. Long ago, we had been angels who’d decided we actually kind of liked the pleasures of Earth better than Heaven, and we indulged in enchanted food and dance. Over the centuries, most of us had lost our wings—but not everyone.

  “Right. Whatever. So, as an Irishwoman, I feel pretty proud on St. Patrick’s Day, even though I actually have no idea who the hells he was. Some snake guy. So, anyways, I had the shirt on, and some college girl spilled a beer on it. And I got kinda mad, right? So, I enchanted the bitch to stab herself in the eye, right into her brain. Eye popped right out, she dropped to the floor.” My new friend broke into howling laughter. “You shoulda seen it. She was like AHHHHHHHH! It was hilarious. But I guess people got kinda mad. The humans were weirded out by eyes coming out or whatever. Called the knights to come get me. Anyway. Now I’m here! Hoping to meet this guy you said had meaty hands.”

  What was a polite way to say I wish I’d never begun this conversation and I would vastly prefer silence?

  “Thank you for that.” I cleared my throat. “I’m going to go to sleep now.”

  My skin itched as a bug crawled up my thigh, but with my hands bound, there was nothing I could do about it. It was mingling with the cold sweat on my back and tickling me uncomfortably.

  I shut my eyes again, trying to imagine Gina. I’d never been in The Savoy Hotel, so I had no idea what it was like inside. In my mind, it was a grand place with gold-rimmed mirrors and four-poster beds, and probably celebrities swanning around a ballroom. Gina would be able to phone for room service, tell them about the nut situation, and they’d bring her what she needed. Then, she’d wake up in the mornings, get her cab to school, and she’d show up well-rested enough to bring up all her grades. She’d pass chemistry. She’d get into college! I could picture her now, sitting in an ancient Oxford hall, the sun streaming in, a stack of books on her desk as she chewed the end of her pencil and wrote something brilliant.

  Maybe not entirely realistic, but I needed fantasies right now. This was fine. I could pretend.

  That was what I needed to focus on right now. Not the bug that had now worked its way into my little undershirt and was crawling over my left breast toward my nipple. Ugh.

  Sadly, in my pocketless ensemble, the comb I needed wasn’t with me. Not that I was near a river, anyway. I had no power here.

  “Gods!” I tried to yank my wrists out of their bindings to get the thing off me, but I only tore at the skin more, scraping my arm against the rocks.

  I deeply regretted that the Ankou hadn’t stayed dead. I’d figure out how to destroy him at some point.

  As the bug scampered over my breast, I let the image I’d conjured of The Savoy Hotel bloom in my mind again. I was pretty sure it was near a park of some kind. Maybe the Thames.

  When I opened my eyes again, a bit of movement in the corner of the cell caught my eye. A rat scuttled around on the damp stone.

  Then, the hairy thing turned to look at me. Its dark, beady eyes fixed right on me, and it ran for me. It scampered over my face, and I gagged, rolling onto my front for a moment to knock it off. I rolled back to my side and glared at it.

  The rat was now staring at me from a dark corner of the cell. I had the distinct impression that he wanted to eat me, but I wasn’t sure if that was possible. I bared my canines, snarling at him. He did not seem impressed.

  A pile of rat bones lay in another part of the cell. I had the unsettling feeling that this larger rat had eaten his brother.

  With my arms wrenched behind my back, my shoulders ached. First thing I needed to do was find a way to get myself out of these restraints. They were made from magic, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t break through them with enough effort.

  In the dim light, I spotted a jagged bit of stone protruding from the walls. I scooted my bottom across the floor until I sat closer to it.

  Then, I started dragging the bindings up and down against the jagged edge. Slowly, the friction started eating away at the ropes as I moved my wrists faster. My arms burned with the effort, and my mind started to wander again. I felt myself back on the island of Ys, once my home. The kingdom’s bells chimed over the rocky landscape. My mother stood on a cliff in the distance, her pearly crown gleaming on her head. I wanted to run to her.

  Gods, I was losing it in here. I tried not to think of anything at all as I wore down the ropes.

  I felt something scamper over my feet, and I yelped and kicked at the rat. I thought the thing hissed at me, but I was probably delirious.

  By the time the last bit of fiber snapped in the bindings, it felt like three hours had passed. It could have been twenty minutes for all I knew, but the pain in my arms told a different story. Relief washed through me as soon as I got my arms free, and I heaved an enormous sigh.

  At last, I could move my shoulders again. I stretched my arms out, rubbing my shoulders, fingers kneading the muscles. I’d really taken free movement of my arms for granted in the past 176 years of my life. Never again would I fail to appreciate this freedom.

  Next, I needed to get the heck out of Dodge. My throat felt like it was coated with sand. How long had I gone without water?

  What I needed was something sharp to pick the lock. It was a simple, old-fashioned skeleton-key lock.

  All I had to do was find two thin instruments to flip the deadbolt inside it.

  And this was why every girl should carry a pile of rat bones in her purse at all times. One needed to be curved, the other straight. I snapped a rib off the ribcage, then picked up a femur. I slid the bones into the keyhole, and I used the straight one to lift the lever, the curved one to push at the deadbolt. Any second now….

  The lock clicked, and I grinned as the cell door creaked open. I’d just started to slip out when magic slammed into me, knocking me back into my cell.

  I didn’t see anyone coming—didn’t hear their footsteps or feel magic moving closer. I just felt the impact as I shot back into the wall, and I heard the cell door slam shut.

  Then I heard the sound of footfalls moving closer.

  Was there a guard? I shifted my body a bit to move upright into a sitting position. Maybe the Ankou was coming back for me.

  Whatever the case, I’d face my attacker with dignity instead of lying on the filthy ground. Or at least, what dignity I could muster, given that I was in mud-streaked, baggy underwear reeking of piss.

  Still, you could pull o
ff anything if you had the right attitude about it, right?

  When three figures came into view, my heart sank a little. None of them were the Ankou, and I knew only that the Ankou was the key to my freedom.

  In the dungeon passageway just outside the gate stood three tall fae.

  A female knight with midnight hair and eyes the color of jade stood at the front. She wore a silver cloak that blended to deep blue at the end, and a necklace of spiky silver branches.

  She was one of the few fae with wings, a sign of the most ancient fae nobility. Slits in the cape allowed her wings to swoop down her back, ginger-colored, flecked with gold and black like a monarch butterfly. She smelled of orange blossoms.

  She belonged here, among the fae, wielding power like she was born to it. For one painful moment, I felt envy so deep it seemed my heart was splitting in two. I didn’t envy beauty, but I did envy power.

  The elegant-winged woman sniffed the air, then grimaced. “Seneschals, is this thing the prince-killer? She looks like something dredged from the sewers. Is that how she dresses?” She held her hand over her mouth like she was about to be sick. “Did you see this thing trying to escape her cage? Gods, we’d all die of the stench.”

  I did my best to flash a smile at her. “I was dredged from the sewers, as it happens.” Might as well just own it. “You lot turned my home into one. And the Ankou pulled me out of it.”

  One of the males stepped forward. Torchlight danced over his deep brown skin. “This dirtling killed Irdion, heir to the Isle of Lyonesse?”

  My throat was sandpaper, and I tried licking my lips again. “Who are you, exactly?”

  “Gwydion, seneschal of the Sea Court of Acre.” A thin wreath of seaweed rested on Gwydion’s close-cropped hair, and a sea-green cloak draped off his shoulders.

  It took me a moment to process the word. “Acre…” I repeated, mentally reviewing my history. An ancient city on the coast, something about crusaders. No wonder this place looked medieval. “Israel.”