Fallen King (Court of the Sea Fae Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  Whatever the case, I had to keep her safe from this vile monster.

  Fire roared in my chest, melting away my dreams.

  Now, I could see the clear path wending through the forest. But when I grabbed Aenor’s hand to pull her along, a new vision clouded in my mind. It was the island of Ys before I’d sunk it.

  A little girl with blue hair stood on a seaside cliff, surrounded by wildflowers of gold and periwinkle. The sun streamed over the landscape, lemon yellow, glinting off the water. The girl laughed, flicking her hands above the sea. At her command, the waves roared higher, and the bells of Ys tolled.

  Aenor’s desires were seeping into my own mind as I held her hand.

  The little girl turned to see a woman wearing a yellowed wedding dress, silver-blue hair threaded with narcissus flowers and seashells. Aenor’s mother.

  She crossed to Aenor and stroked her hair, pulling her close. Her green eyes shone with pride.

  I dropped Aenor’s hand, clearing my mind of the vision. I spun, looking for the baobhan sith.

  “Aenor,” I whispered. “Stay with me. Use your loathing of me to forget everything happy.”

  She cut me a sharp look that told me she was back with me and gripped her ice sword.

  I’d seen her vision of perfect happiness—her mother’s pride. The same mother I’d killed. No wonder she despised me down to my bones.

  But the saddest part of her vision was that I didn’t think anything like that had ever happened. In real life, Queen Malgven wore a dress stained with old blood. It had been clean in the vision. And Queen Malgven wasn’t proud of her daughter, was she? She hadn’t trusted her daughter enough to keep her sober. She’d gotten Aenor drunk to drown Shahar, hiding the truth from her.

  Aenor’s breath clouded around her head, eyes alert. “There’s more than one baobhan sith.”

  Flaming gods.

  She was more alert that I was. And now, I saw what she meant—the flashes of white between he trees, moving like ghosts. Their skin so pale it had a blue sheen. No wonder they had the power to confuse me so easily.

  As my eyes sharpened, I caught the white, ragged cloth hanging off their bony bodies, trailing in the wintry winds. So many of them…

  My impulse was to burn everything around me—but that would mean Aenor, too. She was entirely too flammable. If I used my fire, I’d have to be very careful.

  Icy webs of frost spread in my chest. The witch had spawned. And if I couldn’t keep a clear head, they’d drain Aenor’s blood while I dreamt.

  29

  Aenor

  I’d just been back in Ys, looking at Mama. And now I was in a creepy-ass forest, surrounded by winter witches. It looked like a dozen Beiras out there, flickering through the trees, white hair streaming in the wind. The snow crunched under my bare feet.

  Sadly, in the hierarchy of situations in which my ice powers were helpful, fighting snow witches was somewhere at the bottom.

  Gods, I was so close. I wondered if the Merrow could see me with his scrying powers from the dungeon. Did he know I was coming for him?

  Footfalls in the snow made my heart race, and I turned to see one of the witches. My heart skipped a beat. She cocked her head, blue lips twitching, soundless. She blinked, three bloodshot eyes, and reached for me. Her body glowed with pearly light.

  I swung my ice sword at her, but it shattered against her body, ice chips sparking in the dim light. The witch’s grin split her pale face, exposing her long teeth. Death shone in her eyes.

  I whirled again, and another witch was upon me. Panic climbed up my throat.

  But when someone stroked a dark claw down my arm, euphoria sang through my body. All my fear disappeared. My heart beat hard, a drumbeat luring me to move. The witches faded away around me, until there was nothing left but starlight beaming onto the snow.

  Never put your faith in a man. Mama’s voice rang in my head. They’ll break your heart every time.

  But there was music now. I could dance, and I didn’t need to worry about men. Didn’t need to worry about Mama, or the bloodstain on her dress, or how her eyes bulged when she died. Didn’t need to worry about the beautiful man I had to kill.

  Joy coursed through my veins, the music of the spheres, and I could dance and dance. My feet pounded the snow, harder and harder. Frantic now, whirling, snow spinning around me. So fast…

  My feet slammed the cold earth, the euphoria faded, and I didn’t feel a thing now. Numb through my body.

  It was just me and the winter dance here, me and the wild melody of the witch music. Thoughts of sea glass and burning cities faded to icy stillness.

  Music screeched in my ears, and I threw my arms above my head as I spun. My feet kicked up snowflakes. I whirled and whirled to the beat of the music, until the strength started draining from my body.

  Now, the music seemed too loud, my feet cold in the snow. Gods, I wanted to stop dancing.

  Why wouldn’t my feet stop moving? A sense of fatigue ate through the numbness, muscles shrieking. As I twirled, my hair whipped around my head, into my eyes. Sharp cold spread through my fingers, my toes, like they were blackening with ice.

  At least I couldn’t feel my heart breaking anymore.

  Someone was shouting my name, that deep, velvety voice undercut with steel. I smelled him—sweet and dark. I felt the chasm in his chest as he called to me.

  Salem.

  The steady beat of his music replaced the wildness of the witch song. Slowly, the urge to dance started to fade in me, and my limbs began to pump with warm blood again. My feet stilled on the cold ground. I caught my breath, feeling like my magic had burned out. I’d need time to recharge before I had my strength again.

  As my vision cleared. I spotted the witches again in the distance, between the trees. A few swooped above me, ragged vultures above the branches.

  They could fly?

  My heart thundered. On the ground, they’d surrounded Salem, shrieking as they ripped into him with their claws, pulling his wings apart, blood and feathers raining around them.

  No.

  A wild flame of protectiveness flickered in me… odd. Considering I planned to kill him.

  I broke into a run, ignoring the voice in the back of my head that whispered, Maybe you should let the witches take him down. Maybe you should get the sea glass while they rip him to pieces. A primal instinct propelled me forward; I was desperate to rip him free.

  As I ran, Salem roared and swung his sword, severing two of the witches in half. Blue fire flickered over their bodies. But they didn’t seem to be dead, given that they were still screaming.

  Then, from behind, a powerful force slammed into me, knocking me face-first into the snow. Before I could right myself, iron claws jammed into my side, and I grunted at the pain. Iron was poison to most fae, and I could feel the toxins sliding through my body.

  I slammed my elbow backward, hitting the witch’s jaw.

  What was left of my magic started rising in my body. I bashed her again with my elbows—this time in her ribs—and broke free. Overhead, a witch was swooping for me.

  She might be scary, but so was I. Aenor, Scourge of the Wicked, Flayer of Skins.

  I ducked, avoiding a swipe of oncoming claws. When she swooped around again, I grabbed her from below, hands around her scrawny neck. Maybe my ice magic wasn’t helpful against a snow witch, but my power was recharging now.

  I had strength on my side. Snarling, I crushed her throat. When her three eyes bulged wide, I gripped her head in both of my hands. I snapped her neck. The crack of bone echoed off the trees, louder than it should have been.

  It sent all the other witches cawing like crows, running for me, tattered white rags trailing behind. Their movements were so quiet…

  My body charged with magic. As the first witch reached me, I slammed a fist into her face.

  But there were so many of them, on me like a mob, dragging me down. I shouted for Salem as they pinned me, iron claws digging into my arms. The pow
er of the sea crashed through me, ready to erupt. One of the witches knelt on my chest, spittle flying from her lips. I punched her hard, cracking her skull. She slid off me.

  Scrambling to my feet, I burst free from the mob. I saw Salem across the clearing, fighting to get to me, eyes locked on me across the snow. His eyes burned into me like a warning, even as the witches raked at his wings and his skin.

  Witch bodies littered the ground around him. Someone grabbed my hair from behind. But just as she did, Salem let out a pulse of fiery magic that rippled over the snow. Dry heat swelled over the ice and trees, igniting them. I shielded my face from the blast. The snow melted beneath my feet.

  When I looked up again, I could hardly breathe. The branches burned above me like torches. For one terrible moment, I thought this was it—the future I’d seen, of flames and death.

  Heat seared my skin until I summoned my own magic to swell from my body—frigid water. Just as I unleashed a burst of freezing rain, Salem swooped down.

  He wrapped his powerful arms around me, pulling me in close against his chest, and I wrapped my legs around his waist to hold on.

  We flew low to the ground—barely a few feet off the snow, parallel to the earth—and I clung to him. Some of the low tree branches raked at his injured wings.

  I clenched my jaw, trying to block out the pain that screamed in my body. “I thought you couldn’t fly?”

  “Not above the tree line. The wards would burn me there. But below the tree line is fine.”

  One of his wings slammed into a branch, and his muscles tensed.

  I tried to peer over his shoulder. Between his beating wings, I saw a forest encased in ice and snow. The rain was starting to douse the trees, and smoke curled to the sky. The witches screamed—still alive.

  Salem murmured into my ear, “For gods’ sake, stop the freezing hail.”

  His chest felt colder than it should, and frost whitened his eyebrows. I closed my eyes, using Salem’s body to help subdue my magic.

  “Where are we going?” I asked.

  “We’re getting the key.” Without another word, he veered off the path.

  But his flight seemed meandering. One of his wings looked completely ravaged.

  I felt his heart beating faster, his jaw set like he was in pain.

  “Do your wings hurt?” I cleared my throat. “Not that I care.”

  When he met my gaze, I saw a flash of something new in his eyes—an intense curiosity. Maybe even something like hope. It was quickly gone again with a mask of cold composure as he refocused on the path.

  And there it was, the perplexing truth: it bothered me to see him hurt, this man who took my world from me. The man who would burn it all down to get what he wanted.

  30

  Salem

  She tried to cover it up, but I saw it there in her face—the dawning, horrifying understanding that she cared about me.

  I didn’t think she realized she was my mate. Her loathing of me made that realization impossible.

  But at this point, I had to live with the fact that I wouldn’t be able to kill her. The horror of the image burned between my ribs, a roasting pit of shame.

  “Why were there so many of them? You’d said there was one.”

  “This is a world where the very worst of things will multiply, and the very best wither and die. I made it that way, I think. I poisoned it.”

  “The witches reminded me of Beira. Except that she only has one eye.”

  That name—Beira—made my blood run cold. I couldn’t speak of her. Even if I wanted to, her name would die on my tongue. She came from here, long ago, like I did. She despised me.

  With Aenor’s legs wrapped around me, body pressed against mine, it was hard not to let my mind wander. In my most insane fantasy, I wanted her to be my queen. She’d sit by my side, resplendent in silks. She’d wield her power with abandon. At night, I’d send the rest of the court away. I’d pull off her gown and kiss her skin.

  As if she could hear my thoughts, her pulse started racing.

  But that feeling that we were perfectly in tune with each other—it was simply a distraction. A temptation to trap me here, when my destiny was in the heavens.

  I’d focus on the pain instead. Sharp agony shot through my wings where the witches had smashed them. Each time a tree branch bashed me, my bones screamed. I wasn’t sure the wings could keep me up in the air much longer at all. I thought one of the major bones was broken.

  I scanned the forest floor beneath me, searching for the spot where I’d hidden the key—buried under the earth. As I swept through the trees, the snow thinned, and the air warmed around us.

  I was so close now to finding Shahar. I could almost taste the glory of our heavenly throne. And now, I could almost see my sister’s sad smile. She saved me once, and now I would save her. Not just from her watery prison, but from this entire terrible world.

  At last, I spotted the gentle rise of the forest floor, and the trees thinned around me as a clearing opened up. There, I saw the circle of stones that had stood since the dawn of time.

  It was here that I’d buried the key.

  I tried to bring us down for a smooth landing. Instead, we landed hard on the earth and I rolled onto my broken wing. With one final crack of wing bone, it snapped. Pain exploded in my body.

  I wouldn’t be able to fly again until I’d healed it, nor could I make my wings disappear. I dusted the dirt off my bare chest. I looked ridiculous. If I ended up slaughtering King Tethra once and for all, perhaps I’d find a nice shirt in his wardrobe.

  Aenor lay flat on her back, her blue hair spread out behind her. She narrowed her eyes, staring at my wing. “That looks bad.”

  It definitely bothered her. She wasn’t even focusing on her own injuries, which were considerable.

  She stood and dusted herself off, wincing. The witches had ripped through her clothes and into her flesh. Already, I could see the effects of the iron in her system, making her look nauseated. As soon as I found the key, I needed to get her to safety to heal her.

  As I stared at her bloodied clothes, anger cracked through my body. “Perhaps before I leave here I will ignite it all. The witches’ dying shrieks would delight me.”

  I hadn’t actually realized that I’d said it out loud until she shot me a sharp look, her blue eyes piercing in the gloom of the forest. “You have disturbing hobbies.”

  I surveyed the clearing around me, finding that the hill and the rock formations were nearly as I remembered them. A circle of standing stones jutted into the dark forest air. The trees were almost entirely different. Gone were the ancient yews, replaced now by rowan and hawthorn trees.

  One tree had been there since the dawn of time—an enchanted oak where I spent many a night when I wanted to get away from the castle. As soon as I found the key, I’d take care of Aenor in there. She gripped her side now, watching to see what I’d do next.

  I stood in the center of the stones. Long ago, a yew had grown right where I stood, and it was near the yew that I’d buried the key. The tree had long since decayed, but if the key still existed, I’d be able to feel it in the earth. I knelt on the mossy ground, shoving my fingers into the soil. Then, to my immense relief, I felt the key’s ancient magic snaking up my arm.

  As my chest unclenched, I plucked it from the soil. It didn’t look like a normal key, rather like a glowing white stone. I clutched it in my palm, letting the earthy magic whisper around me, a vortex of power. When I glanced up through the branches, I saw the magic shields shimmer away. Now, I could fly directly into the castle if I needed to.

  I turned back to Aenor.

  “We have what we need,” I said. “But we need to heal each other before we can move on.”

  She was gazing over the tree branches at the castle, her arms folded. Was she considering how to get there without me?

  She wouldn’t tell me in a million years. I only knew that I had to watch out for her, keep her close to me. Which, as it turned out,
was exactly my instinct anyway. She turned, peering in the other direction.

  “They’re coming.” Her body tensed. “More witches.”

  I grabbed her by the elbow, which she immediately yanked out of my grasp.

  “Just tell me where we’re going,” she said. “You don’t have to guide me.”

  Gods, she was infuriating. “We’re going to a tree.”

  “A tree.” She sounded unimpressed.

  And that was exactly why I hadn’t said it out loud, given that it sounded idiotic.

  “Just follow me.” I crossed to the enchanted oak that stood just outside the ring of stones. The faintest glimmer of magic shimmered around it.

  “Just to clarify,” said Aenor, “there are killer witches coming for us, and we’re going to a tree.”

  I didn’t respond this time. Instead, I glanced up at the towering oak, its boughs stretching under the cloudy sky. It was at this point I realized I’d actually missed this place. After I’d been banished, I became so depraved that I could hardly form the thoughts to make sense of it. But I’d liked it here once. Perhaps I didn’t want it to burn.

  I pressed my hand against the bark. Magic sizzled along my arm, and the spirit of the tree whispered to me.

  The true king has returned…

  The words brought a faint smile to my lips.

  In the bark, a hole began to open, widening to a hollow large enough to fit through. The edges of the opening pressed against my wings as I entered.

  Stepping inside, I motioned to Aenor to join me. The enchanted tree opened up into a small, round cottage. Candles flickered in silver sconces, and tiny stars hung in the dark air above us, casting light over a single circular room. A bed curved into the wall, and a table was set with ancient fairy wine, bread, and fruit. A fire burned in a stony hearth, and wildflowers grew from the walls.

  This had all been here since the dawn of history, but the wine would still taste sweet, the bread still fresh. This was my true home on earth. How had I forgotten it?