Sea Fae Trilogy

by C. N. Crawford

  Shahar took another step closer to Aenor, still pointing. “You helped the Merrow. What was it? Two days ago? Three? I came out feeling terrible.”

  Two days ago? She really had no idea…

  Aenor looked like she was ready to throw up again. “It was a bit longer than that. We needed your magic to seal up the ocean floor, or the world would have burned. I’m sorry it had to be you.” She lifted her wrists. “And now? I’m the sacrificial body on the slab to keep the Earth safe. But the world isn’t on fire, so we can all feel good about that.” She attempted a bright tone.

  My twin had gone even stiller, the only movement her silver hair writhing around her head. And now would be the time to intervene, before our familial legacy of slaughter spilled Aenor’s blood all over the rocks.

  “What happened to my cats?” Shahar demanded with a quiet rage.

  “I fed them, Shahar,” I said hurriedly. “Long ago. I still have one of their line.”

  Then, I spoke within Shahar’s mind, angelic words that hissed and sizzled. Shahar, Aenor is my mate. I need you to help her, and then we can ascend to the heavens. We must ascend before Samhain in two days, but I won’t leave my mate to die.

  Shahar’s sharp eyes darted to me, and her lip curled. This one is your mate?

  “She’s dying as a result of a sacrifice she made to save me,” I said.

  Warily, Shahar took a step closer to Aenor. She frowned as she looked down at my mate’s wrists, then lifted them gently. “Mmm. A god did this. I see. These lines of magic are moving, slowly.” She dropped Aenor’s wrists. “I can’t help you. This is the work of the sea god, and only a witch who has served him can fix it. You need to find yourself a powerful witch of a sea court.”

  Disappointment coiled through my body. “Are you sure, Shahar?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. There is only one healer I know of powerful enough to fix something like this, and she can be difficult.”

  “Who?” asked Lyr.

  Shahar smoothed out her dress. “The Night Maiden of Mag Mell.”

  My mood darkened more. The last time I’d gone to the Maid of Night, Mistress of the Court of Silks, I’d asked her to remove my curse. What she’d wanted in return was more than I could bear to give. “Lady Richelle tends to ask for a heavy price.”

  Lyr cocked his head and snapped, “Too heavy a price for Aenor’s life?”

  I thought of his skin burning again.

  “She’s the only option that I know of,” said Shahar. “And you don’t have much time. If you don’t like what she asks for, you can always decline.”

  Lyr stared at Aenor. “And you still think this is better than going to Beira?”

  Not an option.

  “Beira’s not trustworthy,” she replied.

  Good.

  Aenor touched my arm. “What can you tell me about this Maid of Night?”

  “She rules a hidden realm of Mag Mell called the Court of Silks. It’s a hedonistic place, though she herself is a virgin. She believes her virginity confers her more power.”

  “You seem to know this court well,” said Lyr.

  “Yes, well, I created it long ago.” I wrapped my arm around Aenor’s waist. She looked like she was about to faint. “What’s your verdict?”

  Her gaze darted between Lyr and me. “Let’s go to the virgin witch in the orgy court.”

  I nodded. “Good.”

  Lyr took a step away from us, retreating toward his portal. He looked furious. “I think you’re making the wrong choice, Aenor. But it’s yours to make. If you need me, you know how to summon me.”

  Anger simmered. She won’t need you.

  I watched him scoop up one of his fallen soldiers and leap into the water. I didn’t want to think about the possibility that Aenor might return to him after I was forced to leave this world.

  Shahar touched my shoulder and pulled me away from Aenor. “I can see what’s happening to you,” she whispered. “Your curse is growing worse again. Like the old days. But this time, do whatever Richelle asks of you. What difference does it make? We’ll be gone soon. It won’t be permanent.”

  “I’m certain I can charm her this time,” I said, with a lot more certainty than I felt.

  I just had to stay in control. It had taken me a long time to master the art of smothering my emotions, but I was fairly good at it now. It was like icy water poured on a fire, choking out the flames until nothing was left but wet ash. Dull, gray, lifeless ash inside. Empty.

  I looked back at Aenor, at the soft curves of her body. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care for her, that I felt nothing. The words rolled around inside my head, a futile prayer to the heavens.

  I needed to turn myself to wet ash again.

  Aenor

  My blood rumbled loudly in my ears, like thunder over the horizon. I sat against a palm tree, watching Shahar and Salem talking quietly to each other. They never touched each other, but warmth lit up their eyes.

  Salem liked to tell everyone he couldn’t love—he tossed those words carelessly on the wind like dandelion seeds. But there was something not quite right about his declaration. Clearly, he loved Shahar.

  He was crossing back to me now, his expression soft.

  My mouth was dry as sand as I rose unsteadily, and I tried to wet my lips. “I wouldn’t mind getting cleaned up a bit before we leave for Mag Mell.”

  Ossian sidled up next to me, linking his arm through mine. “I think I might be able to help with your nausea, too. Come back to my house. I’ll get you some tea.”

  Imagine if my mate were Ossian. Someone nice, with cute birds tweeting around him. Would’ve been pretty sweet.

  I nodded. “Okay. Good idea. I’ll call a boat up from the waves.”

  Shahar frowned at me. “Can you do that? I can see some magic around you, but not much.”

  It was only at that point that I felt its absence, a gnawing emptiness in my chest. Panic flickered in my mind, and I gripped Ossian’s arm hard, my nails digging in.

  “Easy.” He pried my nails from his skin.

  “No,” I whispered, “you’re right, Shahar. I can’t feel my magic.” I closed my eyes, feeling for my connection to the sea. It was there still, a faint, misty line between me and the water. I imagined a boat summoned from the droplets of seawater, gleaming in the sun. That should have been enough to create one, to lure it closer to us.

  But when I opened my eyes again, I saw only a cloud of fog before me.

  My jaw dropped in shock, heart sinking. “The sea god stole my magic. Gods have mercy.”

  “Now you’re panicking,” said Ossian. “The fact that you’re about to die in a couple of days didn’t warrant an outburst, but the loss of magic gets your fingernails digging into my skin. You have some very disturbed priorities, do you know that?” He sighed. “I’ll call my own boat. Will you be joining us, Shahar?”

  Her forehead creased. “I don’t think I’ve eaten in quite some time.”

  “I’ll get you fed,” he promised. “Just give me a moment to get my boat here.”

  Salem was studying me with a curious expression, and I stared right back at him, my breath catching at his beauty. The sunlight sculpted his cheekbones and the masculine cut of his jaw. Looking at him was almost painful.

  Fire burned in his eyes. He took a deep breath. For a moment, he reached out for me—then he clenched his fist again, pulling it away like he’d been burned.

  He turned from me, staring out at the waves. “The Maid of Night will be able to fix this. I’m sure of it.”

  As he stared out to sea, I followed his gaze. It was with some relief that I found Ossian’s little wooden boat moving toward us, bobbing up and down over the waves. When the boat drifted up to the rocky shore, I waded into the water and climbed in. I sat on one of the rough wooden seats and let my head fall into my hands. Don’t puke. Don’t puke.

  When we pushed off the shore, the feel of the salty wind over my body was like a balm. After a few minutes, I straig
htened, feeling a little better. Salem sat next to me, heat radiating from his body.

  Across from me, Ossian rested against the side of the boat. “What I don’t get is, why couldn’t the god of the sea stop the Fomorians without this bargain? It’s his bloody sea. He should’ve had a vested interest in keeping it from boiling. Could’ve done it without all the dramatics.”

  “Because the earthly gods are a bottomless pit of need,” said Salem. “They are fallen, too.”

  Shahar stared at the sky. “When you fall from the heavens, it creates an emptiness that can never be filled. It’s like your soul is a faint voice echoing in a void. The earthly gods try to fill that chasm, eating the worship of devotees. They demand sacrifices, love. But they will never be full.”

  “There is only one way to quiet that torment,” said Salem quietly, “and that is to return to the heavens.”

  * * *

  I’d been resting in Ossian’s bed for hours, and when I woke, two white pills and a cup of steaming tea sat on the bedside table next to me. Sitting on the edge of the bed was a glaring Gina.

  “What’s in the tea?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “Ossian crushed up a bunch of weird herbs, but I’ve got some ibuprofen because I don’t expect that hippy plant shit to work. Take the pills.”

  I was too tired to argue, so I popped them in my mouth and washed them down with Ossian’s tea. It was a strong, bitter brew, and it was warming me already. I sat up in bed, surveying his bedroom—a cozy space, with lanterns casting warm light over dark wood. Every corner was crammed with books, moss and plants growing between them. From the other room, soft reggae floated through the air. Again, it struck me that Ossian would have made a lovely, soothing mate—the kind who’d bring me tea and read books next to me in bed.

  I took another deep sip of the bitter brew, and I could feel it working already. Warmth spread out through my chest, a feeling of calm. The ache in my muscles, especially around my wrists, started to subside. I still didn’t have the rush of my powerful sea magic, but I’d spent so long living without it that the initial shock was over.

  I lifted my teacup. “It’s working.”

  Gina looked doubtful, but she nodded. “Yeah, that’s the ibuprofen. Works fast. So, what’s your plan, exactly? Your fella in there—the winged one—is fit as fuck. But is he dodgy, with him being the Devil? You actually trust his Maid of Night plan?”

  “Salem is brutally honest, to a fault. So, if he says the Maid of Night can fix me, he is telling the truth. The question is, will she want something for her services?”

  “I guess it’s worth a shot. That magic is working its way up your arms now.”

  A knock sounded on the door, and I called out, “Yes?”

  It creaked open, and Ossian poked his head in the room, birds fluttering just above his blond curls. “Oh, good! Are you feeling well enough to get up now? Salem is ready to fly you to Mag Mell.”

  I downed the rest of the tea, loving the feel of it working through my system, soothing my muscles. “This tea is amazing, Ossian.”

  He nodded. “It’s made with the powdered ballsack of a water bull.”

  I covered my mouth, ready to hurl again. “I would have preferred maybe not knowing that.”

  “The ballsack is blended with Earl Grey,” he said.

  I swung my legs over the side of the bed. “Ossian, my lovely friend, do you have a bath? I’m hoping to not look like a drowned rat at the Court of Silks.”

  Ossian pointed to the far end of the room, where rays of sunlight streamed through a rounded doorway. “Bathroom is there.”

  “Perfect.” I crouched down and pulled a bag off the floor, rummaging through some of the clothes I’d procured last night. “What do you think I should wear to the Court of Silks, Gina?”

  “Jeans. No, silk!”

  I pulled out a white button-down dress, like a shirt dress with long sleeves and a collar. It had a belt around the waist, and it looked quite crisp. “Well, I don’t have silk, but it will have to do. I don’t get the impression they wear many clothes, anyway.”

  “Can I come?”

  “No.”

  I carried the new dress into the bathroom—a circular stone room, with a claw-foot copper tub in the center. I turned on the tap, filling the tub with hot water. Curls of steam rose from it. I peeled off my jeans and sweater, dropping them on the floor.

  My throat felt dry as sandpaper, and I swallowed hard. Apart from the thirst, I was feeling a million times better. As I stepped into the bath, my muscles relaxed.

  I grabbed the soap from the side of the bath and started lathering. But my eyes kept going back to the ribbons of dark magic under my skin. After a few minutes, I realized that I was scrubbing and scrubbing at them, as if I could get rid of them.

  With a sigh, I rinsed off the suds and stepped out of the bath, hot water dripping down my body. Quickly, I toweled off, then picked my jeans up from the floor. I pulled the sea glass from one of the pockets. I had my pearly comb in there, too, which I’d take with me. Just in case.

  But they didn’t seem like enough to protect myself if I was going into this mysterious Court of Silks. A knife wouldn’t go amiss.

  Stark naked, I crossed to the door and pried it open, peering into Ossian’s bedroom. Gina was sitting cross-legged on the floor, flicking through her phone.

  “Gina!” I whispered. “I need a favor.”

  She looked up. “Yeah? You all right?”

  I nodded. “I just need a little holster of some kind. Like a knife holster. Something I can wear discreetly under my dress. Or a small leather handbag. And a knife capable of slitting a person’s throat.”

  Her eyebrows rose. “Why?”

  “In case I need to kill anyone, Gina.”

  “Right. Okay.”

  I slid the door shut and pulled on a fresh pair of underwear—white and lacy, to go under the white dress. I slipped my arms into the smooth material of the dress, then buttoned up the V-neck. The hem reached just below my knees, so I thought I’d wear a sweater, given the October nip in the air. Then I pulled my damp hair into a loose bun at the nape of my neck.

  As I did, a gentle knock sounded on the door. When I pulled it open, I found Gina standing with a small leather pouch on a string, and a dagger. It looked like a misericord—small, but sharp. Better than nothing.

  “Thanks, Gina.” I pulled them from her hand, then slung the little leather bag over one of my shoulders. I crammed the knife, the sea glass, and my comb into the bag. Then I stepped into my flats.

  Fully cleaned and dressed, I crossed back into the bedroom. Ossian, gods bless him, had left a refill of the ballsack tea. I downed the second cup, and it soothed my burning throat. After slipping into a leather jacket, I was ready to go.

  On to the Court of Silks and the Maid of Night. I crossed into the kitchen, where I found Ossian waiting with yet more tea. An entire thermos of it, in fact.

  He smiled. “This should keep you from chundering. Won’t stop the impending death, though, I’m afraid.”

  I lifted it. “Thanks.”

  Shahar sat at Ossian’s table, a plate of pasta before her. She licked tomato sauce off her fingers. “My brother is waiting outside.”

  Gina sidled up next to me, then wrapped her arms around me in a hug. “I’ll be here, looking after Ossian. But get back here soon, because he’s got no internet or telly. And I don’t want to have to come save your arse, so just hurry back.”

  “I’ll be fine.” At least, it seemed like the right thing to say.

  Gripping the warm thermos, I stepped outside. The sunlight blinded me for a moment. When my eyes adjusted, I saw Salem standing near palm and plum trees lining the shore. He’d been shirtless before, but now he wore what must be one of Ossian’s white shirts: too small, the buttons strained. But considering Ossian never wore a shirt, it was in pristine, crisp condition. In fact, the two of us sort of matched.

  Ruddy sunlight washed over him. The sun was setting,
unleashing a wild display of honey and ginger over the ripples. This was Salem’s time of day.

  “Just give me a second before we go,” I said as I walked past him and slid off my shoes.

  When I stepped into the waves, the feel of the seawater against my legs sent a thrill racing up my calves. The ghost of my magic stirred in my chest. But where the heady rush of power should have been, I felt only hollowness. No magic crackled from my fingertips.

  Disappointed, I turned back to Salem. Back on the rocks, I put on my shoes again. “Okay. I’m ready.”

  Without another word, he crossed to me, then scooped me up—one hand beneath my knees, and the other wrapped around my waist. He pulled me into his chest, carrying me like a bride over the threshold. I wrapped my arms around his neck, reminding myself not to get distracted by his scent, or the feel of his chest, like warm steel under his shirt.

  His wings appeared behind him, gilded in the sunlight, dark feathers shimmering with flecks of gold and dazzling me for a moment. I wanted to reach out and stroke them.

  But I kept my hands where they were. He was only sticking around a few days more. I couldn’t let myself get too comfortable with him. He was dangerous as sin, and his seductive presence had a magnetic pull to me. Whatever else happened during the next day, I couldn’t let myself fall under his spell.

  Salem

  With Aenor in my arms, I flew east toward the Court of Silks, the setting sun at my back and the salty breeze whooshing over my feathered wings. A glittering sapphire sea spread out beneath us.

  Just the feel of Aenor pressed against me threatened to send the entirety of my restraint crashing into the ocean. All at once, I felt acutely aware of every point where our bodies met. I had an insane desire to seem perfect around her and to explain all my flaws at the same time, to tell her everything.

  My wings pounded the air behind me. I tried to distract myself with the glory of the setting sun. But Aenor’s scent made my blood pump, and all I wanted to do was kiss her until her chest flushed.