The Crown of Bones (The Fae War Chronicles Book 2)

by Jocelyn Fox

  As time stretched on, Luca’s stoic façade began to waver. Sweat gathered on his forehead and he clenched his free hand. Vell finished cutting another cord with a triumphant sound and the dagger fell away from Luca’s hand. She handed it to me without looking up. I took it, its handle smooth and cool in my grasp.

  “This is going to be the most painful part,” Vell told Luca, poised to begin the gory process of pulling the cords from his hand. The black cords curved out from his palm like misbegotten talons, stiff with blood.

  “It’s gone,” he said wonderingly, staring at his hand.

  Vell glanced at me. I finished wiping down the dagger and wrapped it in a clean cloth, tucking it away in my bag. I caught her eye and shrugged slightly. She sat back on her heels and turned Luca’s hand. It was frozen in a sort of grasping motion, his thumb and fingers curled around the empty space where the dagger’s hilt had lain. At Vell’s urging, he tried to move his fingers again and failed. She grimaced. “It would be best if I could flatten your palm so that I can cut the cords as close to the skin as possible. That way there’s less to pull through.”

  Before I could reply, Luca took his hand from Vell’s grasp and flattened it against his leg with a savage motion, using his left hand to force his atrophied muscles to release their grip on the phantom dagger hilt. His shoulders bowed as he reflexively curled around his mangled hand, but he took a deep shuddering breath and held it out to Vell. “There,” he said hoarsely. We both stared at him. Vell recovered first, taking his hand and gently guiding it back to its place in her lap.

  “Now I can see how you tried to cut off your own hand,” I commented.

  “Sometimes what must be done is painful,” he replied, his eyes dark with memories. I opened my mouth to reply but realized I didn’t know what to say.

  Vell worked quickly. I watched as she tugged out each cord, gripping the knot on the back of his hand and drawing it through his palm. The ragged holes bled sluggishly, dappling his skin with blood. Finally the last cord was gone and Vell cleaned the ruin of his hand thoroughly.

  “Tess-mortal.”

  I jumped at the whisper. I hadn’t even noticed Farin landing on my shoulder. She tucked herself behind my ear.

  “We scouted ahead, as you asked,” the Glasidhe continued in the same quiet voice. Vell was too intent on her task to notice, and Luca had his eyes closed. I waited for her to continue. “Our path is clear for a good distance. But we found something else, something that we thought you would want to know.”

  I tilted my head slightly. Small hands gripped the curve of my ear as Farin leaned even closer.

  “We found the camp.” Her wings brushed my neck in excitement and her small feet tapped a little dance on my shoulder. “We found the other wolf-warrior and this one’s wolf.”

  I sat up bolt straight. “They’re alive?” I breathed, turning slightly away from Vell and Luca.

  “They are alive,” affirmed Farin, “but the creatures…they are treating them badly. Forin stayed to keep an eye on them.”

  “Do you think that was smart?”

  “We could not leave them to the monsters,” Farin replied fiercely, almost forgetting to keep her voice down.

  “You’re right,” I said, resolve hardening in my words. “We can’t.”

  “Talking to an invisible someone or other again, Tess?” Vell said mildly, sorting through her labeled pouches until she found the one she wanted. She measured out a small mound of a vibrantly purple powder and dug in her bag again, coming up with a small bottle. Uncorking it with her teeth, she intently poured the powder into the bottle and shook it with her thumb over the top.

  “Not an invisible someone,” Farin said cheerfully. “Just a very small someone.”

  “Ah, Farin. What have you and your brother been up to?”

  “Scouting,” Farin replied vaguely.

  Luca looked sharply at the Glasidhe hovering just above our heads, but then Vell poured the concoction over his hand and he tried to catch his breath, shoulders hunching for a moment.

  “This one is going to hurt even more,” said Vell grimly before she sprinkled poison-green crystals onto his hand. Farin clutched at my ear as I moved forward quickly, catching Luca by the shoulder. His eyes rolled back but he fought hard to stay conscious. Vell watched him with an unwavering golden gaze, keeping a firm grip on his wrist. I leaned into him slightly, helping him keep his balance. He shivered and then straightened.

  I met Vell’s eyes, looking at Luca and then raising my eyebrows. She pressed her mouth into a thin line and shook her head slightly. I sat back on my heels as soon as I was certain he wasn’t going to keel over.

  “Tess-mortal,” whispered Farin into my ear.

  “I’m thinking,” I murmured, staring out into the patchwork shadows of the forest surrounding us. Luca wasn’t strong enough to help us attack the camp where they were holding his wolf and Rialla’s Northman, but I didn’t think that he would let us go without him. I knew from Vell that a Northerner’s wolf was like another half of them, as real and essential as their own arms and legs. Once Luca recovered enough from the dagger to think for himself, he would realize that there was a possibility that his wolf—Kianyk, I remembered—was still alive, and he would want to go after him. Or, I realized with a sinking feeling in my stomach, maybe the reason he wasn’t charging off into the forest after Kianyk was that he thought there was no hope. I tried to think of an equivalent for me, and I pictured myself in the same situation but with Liam as the one captured. Even just imagining it, my stomach roiled and a wave of pure unadulterated anger washed over me. My skin prickled with goose-flesh. Farin held very still on my shoulder, as if sensing the tide of emotion sweeping over me at the mere thought of Liam being held by the Dark creatures rather than Kianyk and Chael.

  I’d fight tooth and nail to get Liam back, to save him whatever the cost to myself. I’d fight for Kianyk and Chael with the same ferocity. I straightened my shoulders. Farin felt the movement and hissed through her teeth in anticipation. “Farin,” I murmured, “would you please go tell Merrick, Kavoryk and the Vaelanbrigh that I’d like to meet with them before we break camp?”

  “Yes, my Bearer,” Farin said, her voice colored with savage excitement.

  I reached over my shoulder and touched the hilt of the Sword. It paced as that deep-chested, primal wolf in my mind’s-eye. We have to go after them, I told the Caedbranr.

  The wolf bared its teeth in a satisfied snarl. I would expect no less from you, my Bearer. I thirst to taste Dark blood.

  A wave of blood-lust surged through me, as heady as the rush after a heated kiss. My body tightened and I took a shuddering breath. Vell glanced at me cursorily, raised one eyebrow and then turned back to Luca’s hand. “When you’re done,” I told her, “come and talk to me.”

  She nodded. I stood, still riding the prickling heat of bloodthirsty desire. I wanted to sink my claws into something. I wanted to slide my blade into the flesh of a garrelnost, to pierce the heart of a Dark rider and hear their terrified shriek as my emerald fire ate them alive.

  “Tess?”

  I turned. Merrick regarded me questioningly.

  “You wanted to talk to us?” Kavoryk stood just behind the young navigator.

  “Where’s Finnead?” I asked.

  “Here.” He unfolded himself languidly from the shadows beneath the nearest tree. His sea-dark eyes glimmered.

  I reached out with my mind to the Caedbranr for reassurance, and I felt a phantom sensation of warm velvety fur beneath my right hand. My war-markings tingled. “Luca’s wolf and Rialla’s Northerner are alive,” I told them quietly.

  Farin leapt from my shoulder. “No more than an hour as the crow flies!” She pointed deep into the forest.

  “So we’re going to collect every stray that comes across our path?” Finnead inquired with a lazy arrogance. He crossed his arms and looked at me through half-lidded eyes.

  “You didn’t seem to have any trouble collecting a st
ray when you carried me from the road in Texas through the Gate,” I countered in the same quiet voice, crossing my own arms and widening my stance challengingly.

  The hint of a smile touched his lips. “That was another situation entirely. And you proved to be useful.”

  “Don’t pretend like you knew that at the time.” I shook my head. Something flashed across his face, too quick for me to interpret. “If you’d based helping me on the same logic that you’re using now, I’d probably be dead, and you’d be without a Bearer.”

  Merrick glanced from me to the Vaelanbrigh, following the exchange with interest. Kavoryk stood like a statue, unmoving. Finnead remained silent. Finally he shrugged his shoulders and looked away into the shadows.

  “I refuse to decide whether or not to help someone based on their future worth to me,” I said, stabbing the air with finger-quotes to emphasize my point. Merrick looked puzzled at the gesture, but that wasn’t unusual, I thought to myself rather unkindly. “In any case,” I snapped, “we’re going after them, with or without you, Vaelanbrigh.”

  Vell appeared out of the shadows, wiping her hands on a cloth. She glanced at me, then at Finnead, and then at Merrick, who held up open hands and shrugged. “So what’s the plan?”

  “I didn’t even tell you what we’re doing,” I protested in surprise.

  She grinned. “I know you better than you think, Lady Bearer.”

  “Apparently,” I muttered. I rubbed my forehead. “How’s Luca?”

  “He’s made of stern stuff,” Vell said firmly.

  I nodded and paced a little. “The plan. Farin, did you see how many there were?”

  “How many Dark creatures, my Bearer?” Farin flew a dizzying racetrack pattern, leaving neon trails in the air.

  “Yes,” I said, too preoccupied to correct her formality.

  “We counted a dozen,” she replied. “But there may be more.”

  “A dozen, as in twelve?” Merrick repeated. His hand drifted toward the hilt of his sword. “What are we waiting for? The five of us could dispatch a dozen without breaking a sweat.”

  “You kill one Skin-wraith and you think you’re a giant-slayer, navigator?” Finnead shook his head. “It won’t be that simple. It’s never that simple.” He shifted his gaze to me. “It’s a trap. It has to be.”

  “So what do you propose, we let them take Chael and Kianyk and kill them?” I asked acidly.

  Weariness etched lines into Finnead’s face. “Chael and Kianyk.” His eyes changed.

  “Yes,” I said mercilessly. “Chael is Rialla’s Northerner, and Kianyk is Luca’s wolf. Those are their names.”

  “I’m with you, Tess,” Merrick said.

  “I know,” I said tightly, keeping my eyes on Finnead. I felt Vell by my side, a reassuring and familiar presence. “So what’s it going to be?”

  He ran one hand through his raven-dark hair. “Someone is going to regret this decision, and it will most likely be me.” He met my eyes. “Let’s go spring their damn trap.”

  I smiled. I couldn’t help it. “Right.”

  And we sat down to plan as the shadows of the forest hovered around us.

  Chapter 14

  “I’m coming with you.” Luca stood, shrugging away my hand as I reached to steady him. A fierce light shone in his icy eyes. His jaw tightened. “If Kianryk went through anything like I did, you’ll need me.”

  “Luca,” I said quietly.

  “And Chael…he won’t know any of you. Even if Rialla is there, he won’t trust you—”

  “Luca,” I said again, patiently.

  “—I don’t need many weapons. Just give me…give me the dagger.” His voice faltered slightly.

  “Luca.” I gripped his arm and he finally stopped, looking at me. Standing up, he was tall. Almost a full head taller than me. There weren’t many men who could make me feel small, but even half-starved and bruised, Luca cut an imposing figure. He wasn’t as big as Kavoryk—Kavoryk was half-giant, or maybe more, I reminded myself—but he was bigger than any of the Sidhe, thicker through the shoulders and chest. It was like comparing the Sword-as-wolf to Beryk, I realized. Part of me wondered again what Luca would look like, once he got a few good meals into him and a good washing. Maybe I would see, a devilish voice in the back of my mind whispered. I shook myself and realized I was still gripping his arm, my fingers not even reaching halfway around his bicep. “I know you’re coming with us,” I said, proud of the steadiness of my voice and grateful for the darkness of the shadows as I felt a blush burn in my cheeks. “Are you more comfortable with a blade or a bow?” I continued.

  Luca looked down at his hand, swathed in a clean white bandage. Pinkish stains already dappled his palm. “I can wield a blade with my left hand,” he said slowly.

  I unbuckled my sword-belt. “You’ll have to adjust the belt, of course, and move the scabbard to the other side. It’s probably smaller and lighter than you’re accustomed to.”

  “Tess,” said Merrick. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

  Finnead watched silently, arms folded over his chest.

  “I have another sword,” I said, tapping the Caedbranr’s hilt over my shoulder. “I have my daggers. And I can use a bow.”

  “She is a passing-good shot with a bow,” Vell agreed in a thoughtful tone. “Though I wouldn’t recommend relying on her dagger-throwing talent.”

  “Your confidence in my skills is so inspiring,” I said dryly.

  Luca took my sword-belt in two hands. He fumbled with the buckle and muttered a curse under his breath at the clumsiness of his bandaged hand.

  “All right, we’ll be stepping off in ten minutes,” I said. Merrick and Kavoryk gave me nods, and went to go prepare their weapons. Vell slipped across the clearing to where Beryk stood alertly with Rialla. Luca glared down at the sword-belt, as if he could bend it to his will by the force of his gaze. “Here,” I said, stepping closer. I took my belt from his hands and fitted it to his waist after sliding the scabbard to the right side so that he could draw the sword with his left hand. “Hold it in place while I buckle it.” My knuckles brushed his stomach, grazing hard muscle beneath his loose shirt. I worked the buckle in concentration, trying not to notice the closeness of him, the magnetic fierce maleness radiating from his body. Finally I slid the loose end of the belt through the belt-loop. “There. Is that alright?”

  “Thank you,” he said. I moved to turn away and he caught my wrist with his good hand, freezing me in place. His fingers slid down to hold my hand, the touch of his skin on mine sending little jolts of energy up my skin. I felt my breath coming faster. This is ridiculous, I scolded myself, but I couldn’t push down the surge of warmth that rose over me at the sound of my name on his lips.

  “Tess,” he said, saying it like it was something precious. “Thank you for saving me.” He brought my hand up and gently touched his forehead to the back of my hand. I felt like it was a significant gesture, but I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know what it meant. But I stood motionless. He paused as if he wanted to brush his lips across the back of my hand. I held my breath a little. Then he lowered my hand, released it and gave me a grave nod.

  I swallowed. “Don’t thank me yet,” I said brusquely. “Thank me when we have Kianyk and Chael safely in hand.”

  A fierce light came into his eyes at the mention of his wolf, and he nodded again. He drew my plain blade with his left hand, testing its balance. “It is a good weapon,” he said in satisfaction. “Heavier than what I would think a lady would carry.”

  I grinned. “Vell would tell you that I’m not a lady.”

  He smiled in response. “I will make that judgment for myself, I think.”

  I half turned, and said over my shoulder, “Let me know when you decide.”

  His low chuckle followed me as I went to get my bow. I slid a string out of its oiled pouch and held one end of the bow steady beneath my boot while I stretched the string and slipped the loop onto the other end. Satisfied with the low hu
m of the plucked string, I set my bow down carefully and unstrapped the Sword from my back. I adjusted the scabbard and slung it about my waist. The emerald in the pommel gleamed eagerly up at me. I patted it and then counted out a dozen white-fletched arrows into my quiver.

  “Tess-mortal,” said Farin into my ear.

  I jumped. “Don’t do that,” I said, a little more tersely than I intended.

  Farin hovered at eye-level, her sharp little teeth bared in a grin. “Did I scare you, Tess-mortal?”

  An answering smile tugged at my lips. “You’re hard enough to keep track of without being intentionally sneaky, Farin.”

  The Glasidhe scout swept a mocking bow. “I take that as a compliment to my professional capabilities.”

  “To answer your question,” I continued, “you didn’t scare me. You startled me. There’s a difference.”

  “Of course,” agreed Farin indulgently.

  I raised my eyebrows at her. “Do you have any new information or are you just going to hover there?”

  A dagger the size of my pinky-nail flashed in Farin’s hand. “They are keeping the wolf and the North-man separate. In a large clearing, by a cliff. One to the east, one to the west.”

  “How far apart?” I slung my quiver over my shoulder, adjusting the strangely light weight on my back.

  Farin considered, tossing her dagger from hand to hand. It flashed like a miniature spark of lightning jumping between two clouds. “No more than half a mile. But they are blindfolded and bound. I do not know if they are even conscious.”

  I slid my fingers under the strap of my quiver as I thought. “I’m sure Kaleth would be able to carry at least one other than me. The North-man, probably. And Kavoryk could carry the wolf on his mount.” I turned. “Come on, then. We have little enough light left as it is.” Farin shadowed me, a bright light hovering over my shoulder as I walked toward where the others stood, loosely gathered. Finnead watched Luca with gimlet sapphire eyes, one hand resting on his sword-hilt. Luca stared back impassively. Kavoryk had placed himself to one side of Finnead, and Vell stood, her fingers tangled in Beryk’s dark fur, to one side of Luca. Rialla paced behind Luca, her amethyst eyes glowing eerily in the shadows. I shivered. She looked like a skeleton with eyes of fire, restlessly awaiting its revenge.