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.
33
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 thing: 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 neede
d 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.”
I was nearly suffocating in rage. When she rushed for me through the air, I grabbed her throat in a lightning-fast motion. If I could render her unconscious, I could rip the magic from her body. I’d return it to her only when she promised to heal Aenor.
But even as I pressed against her throat, closing her windpipe, her lips moved and twitched. It looked like the death spasms of a beheaded Gorgon—and it took me a moment to realize that she was whispering. Even with her throat crushed, she was still whispering. Her icy power rippled over my body, and I caught some of her words in the fae language, chilling words carried out over the sea.
Mate… death… curse…
Now, her claws of ice were in my chest, spreading frost through my blood. It was like glaciers moving in my veins.
She was winning.
Disappointment split me open. I’d have to kill this witch now, and that meant I was no closer to finding a cure for Aenor’s hex.
I let heat burst from my body, the fire of Vesuvius. But it was too late. Already, my body was crystalizing, shot through with ice. The cold was splintering me. Was this how I’d turn to dust? Cold horror crept over my mind. First, I’d be frozen, then shattered into a million tiny pieces. She’d have her minions crush me into the dirt… My soul would stay here.
But that wasn’t the worst part. No, the worst part was the knowledge that I’d failed Aenor.
This was how it ended, how it would always end. Destroyed by the woman who’d cursed me long ago.
I felt a portal opening beneath me. And with the final crack of my body into shards of ice, her words rang in my mind:
You have made your choice. We will grind your remains into the dirt.
Aenor will die in excruciating torment, and you have only yourself to blame.
34
Aenor
I dragged myself out of the water, muscles battered with exhaustion. On the rocky shore, I caught my breath. My eyes were on Ossian’s cottage, nestled on the little rocky hill between plum and elm trees. Warm lights beamed out from the windows. I sighed with relief.
My limbs shook as I straightened, rubbing my biceps. Clearly, my strength still wasn’t what it once was, and I was moving sluggishly across the rocks. When I looked down at my arms, my stomach churned at the sight of that dark magic winding all the way up to my shoulders. Seemed it had accelerated.
Nausea rose in my gut. The weaker I felt, the worse this got. That swim through the ocean had sped it all up.
Without my magic, the cold went right down to my bones. My teeth chattered, and I cast a glance behind me, hoping to see Salem. But I only saw the stars gleaming in the sky. At that absence, my heart constricted.
Why did I feel like something was wrong?
I frowned. It was that feeling again—that the bond had snapped between us. The one I didn’t tend to notice until it was gone.
I shook my head, trying to clear the dark thoughts. Maybe it was just my nerves. Salem had just said he was an immortal king with infinite firepower, that no one could hurt him. In fact, I’d felt the heat of his explosion through the waves. It had seared my skin a bit—like the Fomorians ripping open the earth. There was no way the witches had withstood his power.
I could hear Gina signing “Suspicious Minds” through the window, and I smiled. That’s my girl.
But as I drew closer to the door, the back of my neck prickled, and I got the sense that I was being watched. Maybe that was the source of the dark feeling. I whirled, searching the darkness for any signs of witches, but I found only the empty seashore. The waves crashed against the rocks, water gleaming in the moonlight.
Nothing there. Still, my heart started beating faster.
I reached for the cottage’s doorknob. Maybe I’d check in with Gina first—
The sound of stones rubbing together behind me froze me in my tracks. I pulled my dagger, still covered in Richelle’s blood, from its bag and slowly turned to look behind me.
I gritted my teeth, scanning the shore. I saw nothing but Ossian’s plum trees and the gleaming water.
Then I sniffed the air. It took a moment for the scent to register, but then I realized what it was. Almonds and sea-swept stones…
Lyr was here.
“Lyr?” I whispered.
No response. Just me, the plum trees, and the silence. Gina’s singing rang out again, this time an Elvis Hawaiian Christmas song. I think she missed me.
It was possible, I supposed, that I was becoming a bit paranoid. I heaved a long breath, then turned back to Ossian’s door. When I opened it, the warmth of the place immediately greeted me. A fire burned in the hearth, and the place smelled of tomato soup.
“Aenor!” Gina shouted, jumping up from the sofa. She ran for me, arms outstretched.
But as she took a step closer, her face fell.
“Behind you!”
Icy claws raked my back, making my spine arch. Horrified, I whirled, the dagger still in my hand. The blade was in the witch’s neck before she had a chance to get her claws any further into me, before I even had a chance to register what was happening.
I nearly missed the other one—the one flying into the room. Ice-cold magic rippled over me. She landed on Ossian’s table, a strange-looking knife in her hand. Its hilt was ivory, gleaming in the light. Her eyes burned with pale light, and a rictus grin split her face in two. White hair coiled into the air above her head, shimmering a faint blue.
I threw my dagger, but she dodged with alarming speed. “Plans have changed,” she said. “You killed our monster, our serpent, and now we will kill you.”
My fingers twitched. I was all out of weapons, and she wasn’t.
“Gina,” I whispered. “Get out of the way.”
Just beyond the witch, I saw Lyr’s pale hair, and he was moving for her. But the witch wound back her arm and threw the knife for me, aiming directly for my heart. I froze for a moment—but Gina did not.
She threw herself in front of me, slamming into me, and we both knocked into the cabinets.
The warm light illuminated her dark eyes. “I saved you. Not bad—” Then she took a sharp breath, her words stuttering to a halt as her pupils dilated.
Oh, shit.
I peered over her shoulder and felt the world spin at the sight of a knife sticking out from behind her.
“Gina!” I shrieked.
The knife had caught her in the back, just by the shoulder blade. And now that the pain was registering with her, she was gasping. She slumped into me, gripping me with fear. My heart was a wild beast, pure panic pounding through my blood.
“It’s okay, Gina.” I tried to keep my voice calm. “I don’t think it hit any organs. I think you picked a good spot to get stabbed.”
I looked up, searching for signs of the witch coming to finish the job. But what I found was Lyr carving a knife through her throat.
I tried to clear my thoughts, peering over Gina’s shoulder at the entry wound. It wasn’t an ordinary knife, and no blood flowed. Instead, something like frost was spreading from the wound. I had to get it out of her.
“Brace yourself, Gina,” I whispered.
I gritted my teeth and, with shaking hands, pulled out the blade. I’d expected to see blood coating it, but there was none, only a frosty sheen. It was an odd-looking blade—ivory and misshapen. Like a giant tooth, really.
I sniffed the air, taking in an acrid scent, and a bitterness that coated my tongue.
“What happened?” Lyr was standing over me, his shadow darkening the space around us.
“Ice witches broke in, and Gina got hit with the knife.” My voice shook as I spoke.
“It hurts,” Gina said.
I looked under her shirt to find that the strange ice-blue magic was still there, like blooms of frost on a window. “It’s some sort of spell.” I could hardly think. “Lyr, is the witch dead?”
“I cut her head off and threw it into a hell world, so yes,” he said.
I pressed my hand against Gina’s back as though to stop the blood flow, even though it didn’t make sense. This was a magical wound, not a normal stabbing. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.
“How much does it hurt?” I asked.
She inched away from me and shook her head. She looked stunned, unable to speak.
Aenor. Think clearly. Think logically.
Lyr crouched down. “Let me try to heal it.”
I still had Gina in my arms. Lyr pressed his hand against her back. His body glowed with golden light, and I could feel his magic tingling over my skin. Gina was craning her neck, trying to look at it. I felt such an insane sense of panic that the only thing I could think of was that I wanted to turn back time and take the hit myself.
“What’s happening to it?” Gina rasped. “My back feels numb. Like it’s dying.”
Lyr shook his head. “My magic isn’t doing anything.” He glanced at the knife. “What is that? A tooth?”
Rising Queen Page 18
