Sea Fae Trilogy

by C. N. Crawford

  I was falling all over again.

  I stepped over the incinerated bodies, fury still raging. It took me a few moments to realize that I was angry at myself. Maybe I’d needed to kill them—if they were going to find Aenor, maybe they needed to die. It was just the way I’d done it. The blood lust. The need for sacrifice, the lack of control. The delusions of divinity. I was a false god again.

  The old Salem was back, and gods, I desperately yearned for the peace of the heavens again. I wanted to be free of self-loathing. Because there was no way I could stay with Aenor like this. Perhaps we were mates, but she should not be with a monster.

  At the top of the stairwell, I pushed through the door, onto the castle walkway. The rain had stopped now, and the clouds had thinned. I stared out over the dark kingdom that had once been mine. My wings spread out behind me, and I took to the windy skies.

  There was one way to kill this monster, and it required a bit of sea glass.

  Salem

  Getting through the gates of Mag Mell had been easier than I’d hoped. The Court of Silks seemed to be in complete chaos, not a single guard standing before the gate. As I’d swooped over the winding roads, people had rushed from their houses, thronging the streets. Wild shouts rang out across the waters, screaming, anguished or ecstatic…

  No one even noticed the dark figure sweeping through the sky above them.

  The wind rushed through my hair and over my feathers as I arced around the Horned Palace.

  When I glimpsed the amphitheater, my heart sank for a moment. The seawater still filled it. Bizarrely, Richelle’s body had been left where she’d died, her blood spilling over the stone stairs, eyes wide and staring. Others had left belongings behind—bits of clothing, empty glasses. It was as though her death had unleashed complete insanity in everyone around her.

  I smelled the scent of blood in the air as I circled over the arena. I didn’t have time to search for the sea glass in this shallow water, but I maybe I could remember where I’d been when I pulled it out.

  I closed my eyes, and my thoughts ignited with the terrible images of our fight—the one I’d been helpless to stop. I felt like an angry god was etching these memories inside my skull: Aenor on her knees before me, my elbow slamming into the side of her head. That terrible crack ringing out, Aenor falling into the water. My hand around her neck…

  It felt like the sea glass was already piercing my heart.

  Me killing her—it was such a terrible corruption of our mating bond, a perversion, like a statue of a god hung upside down. And Richelle had received her instructions directly from my former wife.

  I uncorked the wine again, drinking deeply to try to dull some of the sharpness in my chest. Then I remembered it vividly: exactly where I’d been standing when I ripped the glass out of my neck. I took a few steps closer to the wall below where Richelle’s body lay, then saw the glimmer of blue under the water. The moonlight shone off it like a beacon.

  I snatched the shard off the stony arena floor and shoved it into the pocket of my trousers. My wings beat the air, and I lifted into the skies again.

  I needed to get back to Aenor as fast as possible.

  * * *

  I stood outside the door of the bedroom where I’d left her, already sensing something was wrong. It was like tension was vibrating from the room. When the door swung open, I found Aenor, dressed in the white button-down dress.

  She was sitting on the bed, glaring at me. “You got the sea glass, didn’t you?”

  “If you saw what I did to the five guards upstairs, you’d want it.”

  She started crossing to the door. “I’m not using it. We’ll go back to Ossian’s place, check in with Gina, and find another witch from there. I know how to contact Lyr if I need him. Maybe he’ll even open a portal to get us where we need to go.”

  At Lyr’s name, my lip curled. So, we would rely on Lyr? The thought made me want to burn another stairwell of guards. But I supposed if he truly could help her, I wouldn’t let my pride stand in the way.

  Aenor was already at the door. She turned back to look at me. “Are you coming?”

  Wordlessly, I followed her, and we crossed into the corridor.

  Aenor glanced at me. “You’re how old? Tens of thousands of years? You must have met a few witches in all that time.”

  “They don’t tend to like me. In general, I can’t say I’ve made many friends during my time on Earth. You’ll see why in a moment.”

  As we climbed the stairs, the stench hit me.

  Aenor saw them first. “What in the hells…?”

  The charred bodies lay before us, the walls blackened on either side. The man’s glassy brains gleamed in the dreary light.

  “They got in my way,” I said.

  She turned to look at me, grimacing. “Was this method really necessary?”

  “I believe they wanted to kill you. I demanded a blood sacrifice to ensure their loyalty. They refused.”

  “You told me never to make sacrifices. You had a whole moral problem with it. What happened to that?”

  I crossed my arms, satisfied that I was proving my point about the sea glass. “What happened to that was that gods aren’t supposed to be on Earth, Aenor. Because we are full of jealous rage and fury. Our pit of need, our desire for worship, can never be filled.”

  Aenor stared at me. “You’ve had moments of peace on earth. It’s like you told me about the dawn chorus of birds, the rising sun across your cave floor. You were peaceful an hour ago in that mossy bedroom, at least until you started messing with the curtains. You weren’t demanding sacrifices then. You just need more of those moments to fill the emptiness.”

  “Is that all?”

  “And in any case, I think you killed the guards because you had to. They’re Tethra’s guards. If you had let them live without a blood oath, I’d be dead. So, you did what you had to do. You don’t need to make a big thing of it.”

  Aenor was startlingly pragmatic sometimes.

  “Perhaps,” I said.

  She curled her lip at the sight of the bodies crowding the stairs. “I could have done without knowing what incinerated brains look like, though.”

  “We do have a lot of people after us, and we need to go.” I felt a sudden urgency to get her out of here, to fix the hex in her veins. What if Tethra were lucid enough to communicate with my former wife? In me, they had a common enemy.

  I scooped Aenor into my arms and moved swiftly up the stairs. I kicked through the door into the night. On the tower’s walkway, my wings spread out, and I took off into the darkened sky. The wind whipped over us, but my body warmed Aenor so she wouldn’t freeze in the autumn air.

  With Aenor’s arms wrapped around my neck, the fire of my curse had begun to simmer down a bit. With the feel of her soft hair against my neck and the stars beaming above us, this felt a bit like one of those moments of peace. She made me feel… rational, almost. And not as alone. In fact, I felt as if our hearts were beating in time together. It was like crawling out of a dark cave to notice the rising sun.

  My name meant whole, complete. Since I’d fallen, it had seemed like the worst sort of misnomer. I was the opposite of whole. But that was how I felt now, with Aenor, under the dome of gleaming stars. I felt complete.

  She looked up at me from underneath her lashes. “Tell me more about what you were like before the curse. What was a day like for King Salem in Mag Mell?”

  “I was often restless. I didn’t like to sleep. Courtiers surrounded me, always wanting something… I sometimes went off on my own to my little cottage. I liked to eat sweet things: heath-fruit with apples, sloe-berry pies with honey, whortleberry tarts.”

  Aenor’s lips quirked. “Okay. So you ate like a child. Also, what in the gods’ names are these fruits you’re naming? Are these actual fruits?”

  I’d nearly forgotten about them. The curse had ruined my appetite, until I craved only blood and the misery of others. “They are real fruits; you will have to try t
hem someday.”

  My smile faded as I realized I probably wouldn’t be there when she did.

  “Anyway, I spent mornings by the sea, watching the sun come up. Shahar visited me sometimes, at dawn, but she didn’t like living at court. I was easily bored in those days, and I used the amphitheater to stage fights between monsters and soldiers. And when I got really bored, I fought the monsters myself. In the heavens, I’d been a warrior. In Mag Mell, we had no enemies, so I had to find ways to amuse myself. But no one really stood a chance against an immortal king with infinite firepower.”

  “So, you had to fight the monsters instead of other fae.”

  “I sometimes led our forces into nearby courts. I’d demand that they pay us heavy taxes or I would destroy them.”

  “Okay. This is a bit of a dark turn since the charm of the whortleberry pies.”

  “I liked being a tyrant,” I said. “And what I liked best about it was that the women of those courts hated me, but they also desired me. It was one of my greatest thrills, to seduce them when it broke them a little inside afterward. See, it wasn’t just about seduction; it was about ruining them. That was the appeal. Frankly, I think the sense of the forbidden made the sex better for both of us.”

  She stared at me. “This was before your curse, right?”

  “Oh, yes. Don’t mistake the love of a sunrise and a fruit tart for being a good person, Aenor. These things are unrelated. In any case, nothing I did seemed to matter, because I always felt like something was missing. I was always incomplete, broken. Always restless, always wandering. Because that is what happens when a god falls. He is always hungry.”

  She frowned, looking annoyed with me, then turned to stare out at sea. She’d hoped I had been a perfect gentleman before the curse, that it had all been flowers and birdsong.

  But that was a story I couldn’t tell, only because it wasn’t true.

  Salem

  As I flew, the salty air whipped against us. I wanted to break her sullen silence.

  “And what else did you do in Ys, besides sleep under the crooked Cornish oak?” I asked.

  She still wasn’t looking at me. She brushed a strand of hair out of her face. “Hmm. Well, my magic overwhelmed me a lot. It made everything feel too bright and too vibrant. It was a constantly overwhelming feeling. So, like you, drunk on wine, I spent lots of time in my cups, as they used to say. Lots of drinking by the old, crooked tree, or reading by myself. Sometimes I went to balls, but I preferred to be alone.”

  If I could sit with her, drinking cognac under her crooked Cornish oak—frankly, it sounded like heaven. But my mind had caught on something else she said. “You’ve said a few times that your magic overwhelmed you in Ys. That it was too much, and that’s why you had a lot to drink. But when I gave you your magic back, you seemed to manage it well. You didn’t need alcohol to deal with it.”

  She bit her lip, frowning. “That’s true. I’m not sure what the difference was. I suppose you helped me figure out how to ground my magic, using the earth.”

  “I think it was more than that, Aenor. I think you didn’t think yourself capable of wielding that power. And perhaps you got that message from the people around you.”

  She shrugged. “Maybe. There was suspicion of me, given who my father was.”

  “What did he do? It can’t be that bad.”

  “He crucified people he didn’t like.”

  I tried to keep a stony expression. “Well… you really don’t seem like you take after him.”

  “I sure as hell hope not. But speaking of channeling magic… you once took my power and stuck it in a jar.”

  “I did, yes.”

  “And you can do this with anyone’s magic, right?”

  “Yes. I can absorb magic and trap it in objects. I can return it to people.”

  “Okay, so—you know when those witches attacked us? Why couldn’t you rip their magic out of them?”

  “A person has to be incapacitated first. I’d need them to be prone, lying on the ground and unmoving for a few minutes. You’d hit your head when I destroyed your kingdom. You were conscious but not going anywhere. That’s how I took your magic.” The idea grew in my mind as a warm glow, and I started to understand why Aenor was asking about this. “You want to use it as leverage. If another winter witch attacks us, we could rip out her power and use it as leverage. Only if she agrees to heal you.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “I’m wondering if you could get the magic and use it to undo my divine hex. And maybe there’s even a way to remove your curse.”

  I shook my head. “I’m only a vessel for the power, so no. I couldn’t wield the magic. But I can always use it to threaten a witch. Obey my demands or I take your power from you and trap it in an old sock. Then I burn the sock. This is brilliant, Aenor. Why make friends with a witch when you can simply threaten to ruin their life? I don’t know why I never thought of that.”

  “Shame you can’t ruin someone’s life while seducing her at the same time, right?”

  I didn’t usually pay this close attention to anyone’s emotions, but clearly, she was still annoyed.

  Silence fell over us again. Normally, I liked silence—I sought it out. I relished a lull in conversation, when I could hear myself think again. But oddly, I didn’t like it when Aenor was annoyed with me. Odd, because I had spent roughly a billion years not caring what anyone thought at all.

  All she had to do was fall silent, and suddenly I wanted to turn the world upside down to fix it.

  When I saw the little white light appear around me, my mood only worsened. That will-o’-the-wisp, the one sent to spy on me by my former wife. My nemesis. My heart was ready to leap from my chest. The little thing had found me again, and that meant she knew where I was.

  And there it was once more—the molten rage, the fury building up in my body like lava ready to erupt. “Aenor”—my quiet voice had a sharp edge—“we may get our chance to try our hand with one of these witches.”

  “Where?” she whispered. “I can feel cold magic, but I can’t see them.”

  I glanced behind me and realized we’d already swooped above at least some of them in the waves. In the dark waters, I glimpsed the faint, silvery sheen of a witch’s magic and a bony hand rising from the sea. Any moment now, they could come flying at me through the air.

  “I’m going to need you to swim,” I said quietly. “As far below the water as possible. Do you think you can swim back to Ossian’s?”

  “I’m a Morgan,” she whispered. “I can swim forever. I’ll be cold as shit, but I can keep swimming.”

  “Wait.” I’d swept down closer to the sea, and I knew I needed to drop her into the waves. But I was having a hard time releasing her. “Are you faster than the witches?”

  “Of course. I was the last time we encountered them. And I’m just a bit stronger now.”

  “Good. I will meet you at Ossian’s. And with any luck, I will have a captive witch with me, bereft of her power.”

  I hated this. I knew how strong she was. Even without her magic, she was a survivor. She had been for the past hundred years, surviving without her magic. Fighting monsters. So why couldn’t I bring myself to release her?

  The screech of a witch behind me told me I was all out of time now, like it or not.

  “I’ll see you soon,” I whispered, and let her go into the water.

  I saw her body moving through the waves, deeper and deeper. And as soon as she was out of my arms, I realized what the problem had been, my reluctance to let go of her. When she wasn’t near me, I felt that piercing sense of incompleteness again. It was like it was shattering me, an obsidian body split apart by magma.

  In the air, I whirled. And that was when I saw them coming for me—an entire horde of witches. Ragged clothes streamed from their bodies, and their silver hair flowed behind them. Their eyes were wild, fanatical.

  They served their goddess, and she demanded fealty. She had once been my wife. They all wanted the same thi
ng: for my hands to end Aenor’s life.

  They’d never leave me alone, not until my life was over.

  As I felt the chill of their ice magic frosting my skin, I longed to crush them all into stones. I was a river of blood rushing down a mountain, a fountain of rage. The war drum of my mother, Anat, pounded in my blood. I was a storm of fire, and I would burn everything around me. I’d crush the cinders into the earth as I walked over my enemies.

  When the flames erupted from my body, searing the air, I feared it had been too much. The witches’ bodies burned in the air, the heat so intense that they must have died immediately. Their flaming, ashen forms fell into the sea. But…

  I had meant to leave one alive.

  My wings burned, pounding the air, and I cursed myself. I’d just set off the heat of Pompeii.

  I searched the ocean, desperately scanning for any signs of life, of magic. And after a moment, I saw what I was looking for—a lone witch rising from the sea.

  It wasn’t over yet. Her eyes shone with icy wrath. Her cold magic slid over my skin, making my muscles freeze. I let some of my heat radiate from my body, stirring the air. But this time, I’d stay in control. I’d keep her alive to get what I needed from her.

  “Submit to me!” My voice traveled on the wind. “Or suffer the same consequence as your friends.”

  She swooped closer, circling me in the air. Her blue lips twitched like she was talking, but the movement didn’t quite match her voice. “I pledge loyalty to one goddess. The ancient one. Your wife, your true love.”

  “She is neither of those things.” My own voice sounded like it echoed off the sea.

  The witch circled closer. “You are the one who must submit. The goddess demands it. Kill your mate and free yourself. If you do not, you stay cursed. You cannot ascend. You stay trapped in this body, and we will grind you into dust. We will trample your corrupted remains into the earth. You will stay trapped here forever. Rotting in the sulfurous soil, where you belong. Your soul will remain here, Salem, watching the world go by. There is no escape. No escape until you cut off her head. Death to Aenor. Death to your mate.”