Sea Fae Trilogy

by C. N. Crawford

  I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks heated, too.

  Lyr stared at his breakfast again, then scooped up a spoonful of Froot Loops. He took a bite and grimaced. “Is this food? I was under the impression that it was food, but I see now that perhaps I was mistaken.”

  “It is food. And if you’re not going to eat it, I will.”

  I rose from the bed and crossed to the coffee table. Starving, I shoved a handful of Froot Loops into my mouth. Had a frosted breakfast cereal ever tasted so delicious? “Why did the Winter Witch want a world key that she can’t even use?”

  “A sacrifice isn’t about utility. It’s about offering up something the supplicant cares for.”

  The Winter Witch had asked for the key—or me. Did that mean Lyr cared for me?

  I watched him as he rose, went to the kitchen, and pulled an entire roast chicken from the fridge. He pulled off a leg and started eating it.

  “Take it with you,” I said. “We can drive. We have to get to the athame before the fuath do.”

  The city of the evening star….

  With a jolt, I realized I hadn’t even told Lyr about the fae I’d met in Acre. The one whose eyes looked like twilight.

  “Wait. There’s something you should know. Someone came after me in Acre. A fae male I’d never seen before. He knew who I was. He called me the daughter of Malgven. He said he might need my help someday, and he wanted to know where she was. He was very intent on that point. He wanted me to eat some enchanted fruit and tell me where she was. But I don’t know who he meant.”

  “You really have no idea who he was talking about?”

  I shook my head. “No. I was hoping you’d know.”

  He narrowed his eyes, considering this. For a moment, I thought he looked unnerved, but then he schooled his features again. “Tell me more about the fae.”

  “He was beautiful.”

  Lyr arched an eyebrow.

  “Large, a powerful warrior like you. He had dark hair, skin tinged a little with gold. His eyes looked like dusky indigo and amber. He gave the impression of having wings, but he didn’t have them, if that makes sense.”

  “It definitely does not.”

  I sighed. “And his magic sounded like … like low drums echoing off rocks. I felt heat around him.”

  Lyr stared at me. “Did he wear any symbols of any kind? An insignia?”

  “No.”

  “Do you know what court he belonged to?”

  “No idea. Shadows? He didn’t smell like the sea. He smelled … like smoke and fruit.”

  Lyr shook his head. “I have no idea. All we can do for now is look for the athame.” He tucked the chicken under his arm.

  I moved for the door, then paused for a second, grabbed a glittery purple pen and a rainbow notepad, and wrote a quick note:

  Sorry we took some food and used your apartment.

  I considered writing If you ever come to London, I’ll give you free demon hearts, but decided that would probably terrify her more than anything else.

  Chapter 29

  As I drove, Lyr stared at the road signs with the intensity of a cat watching a rabbit. He had a better sense of Israel than I did, but neither of us was used to driving.

  The afternoon sun blazed hot into the car, making it hard for me to see where we were going. I understood now what the air conditioner was all about. It was glorious.

  As we drove out of Tel Aviv, past the airport, the vegetation on either side of us began to thin. Lyr thought it was less than a hundred miles from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, which meant it might not be long till we found the athame.

  And then? All I had to do was tune into the sound of the Meriadoc magic, find it, and destroy the fuath.

  Assuming that the Winter Witch wasn’t just plumb crazy.

  “Are we going the right way?” I asked. “I can’t take my eyes off the road to look at the signs, or we will die in a fiery explosion.”

  “I think so, yes.”

  We’d been driving for over a day with a broken window, and I was surprised that the police hadn’t pulled me over yet. “What’s your situation with human police?” I asked.

  Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him shrug. “We operate with impunity. We keep the demons and goblins in check, so they’re fine with whatever we do. The World Key proves who I am, and the other knights have golden cuffs. Now, I don’t have the World Key, and if humans find a stray fae with no identification, they will probably alert the Court of Sea Fae of Acre. Who are now possessed by the fuath.” He frowned thoughtfully. “I suppose I could kill the police officer to end the problem.”

  “Humans definitely frown on that.”

  “Even if he inconveniences me?”

  “Let’s just try to not attract the notice of the police.”

  There wasn’t much traffic at the moment, which was a blessing, but every time a car passed us, my whole body went tense. And it was happening a lot, because it seemed like I was driving half the speed of everyone else. Did humans really not realize that they could burn to death at any moment if they made a wrong move in one of these things? That they could end up with permanent physical disfigurements and pain because of a momentary lapse of judgment?

  How immensely human to be scared of bumblebees and ghosts while speeding around in flaming death machines all day like it was nothing.

  “You seem tense,” said Lyr.

  “No more talking.”

  “Right. We could die at any moment. You have mentioned this several times.”

  “I could die. You’re fine.” An odd tingle ran up my spine as I clutched the wheel. “Are you doing something with your magic?”

  “No, but I felt that, too.”

  It was that sense of being watched.

  Lyr leaned forward in his seat. “Someone is scrying. They’ve found us.”

  “Bollocks. So they know we’re heading for Jerusalem, and that we don’t have the World Key.”

  “Shhh.

  “They can’t hear us.”

  I bit my lip, eyes focused on the white lines, the few inches of paint that kept me from breaking my neck.

  I could feel the tension rolling off Lyr.

  “I know what you’re thinking,” I said. “If they can keep seeing us in the scrying mirror, we’re screwed. What we need is basil.”

  “Basil protects against scrying?”

  “Yep, little-known fact. It’s as simple as that. I had some in my apartment … though you found me anyway, somehow.” I scowled. “You can put it in your pockets and no one will see you. Except the shorts I’m wearing have no pockets.”

  “The other knights are skilled in magic, but I don’t believe they know that.”

  “Well, maybe you should have found me to become one of your knights. I could have taught you things.”

  Lyr leaned forward, staring out the window. “Pull over here. There’s a gas station. They have a shop.”

  I didn’t love the thought of crossing over a lane, but there didn’t seem to be anyone coming, so I slowed the car even more and rolled into the parking lot. I parked the car crookedly across two spots, and Lyr hopped out. A bell rang when he pulled open the door.

  Maybe I was starting to get the hang of this driving thing, I thought.

  I watched Lyr searching the shop, filling up a basket with a bunch of stuff: container of herbs, some household items, food, water….

  He still had no money whatsoever. I didn’t want to attract any police attention—not when they’d alert the fuath.

  But when he crossed to the counter, I caught the smile of the woman working at the register. Lyr leaned closer to her, whispering something. He tucked one of her curls behind her ear. I had no idea what he was saying, but the woman handed him a plastic bag full of his goods. She blushed and wrote something on a piece of paper, then motioned to the door.

  Seriously?

  Even without the World Key, he really could just get whatever he wanted.

  He pulled open the car door. “Let’s
go. I’ll make us basil charms.”

  “Oh, really?”

  I pulled out of the parking lot and rolled onto the road again. I could hear the crinkling of the plastic bag next to me. I wasn’t entirely sure what Lyr was involved in, but it seemed to be some kind of arts and crafts.

  We had been on the highway for another four minutes or so when something unfortunate happened. Our trusty car that was rightfully ours by virtue of theft sputtered out and died, slowing to a roll. We came to a complete standstill on the highway, the afternoon sun beaming hot into our car.

  And to my utter shock, all the cars around us had slowed down, too. All the traffic just … stopped. The car started to bake in the heat.

  “What the heck just happened?” I asked.

  Lyr looked perplexed. “Melisande knows a demechanization spell. It shuts down all the machinery around her for days. Maybe the fuath got it from her somehow? Maybe they hurt her.”

  I was still gripping the wheel. “The fuath said they could sift through memories and learn things. They’re starting to take the knights’ memories. They saw us driving through the scrying spell, and they acted.”

  A graveyard of stalled vehicles spread out over the highway. No one was getting out of their cars yet. They were all probably as baffled as we were, although they’d be baking to death within an hour.

  “And it lasts for days? Gina’s tied up in a basement right now.” I snatched the gum off the dashboard and pulled out another piece. “We can do this. Let’s think rationally. Are you sure you can’t get the key back from the Winter Witch?”

  “I’m sure, yes. But we can walk. We’re already a third of the way there.”

  I glanced at the blazing sun. “How far is it, exactly?”

  “If you walk fast, we can maybe make it in nine hours.”

  Wonderful.

  Clutching the pack of gum, I opened my door, stepped out, and shielded my eyes in the sun. Nothing to do but walk in the heat, I guess.

  “Come here.” Lyr was holding the plastic bag from the gas station. He was holding something else, too: thick string threaded through baggies full of basil. “Our scrying protection.”

  “Aren’t you crafty?”

  I stepped closer to him, and he tied a charm around my waist. He wore his as a sort of bizarre necklace. “They won’t be able to see us now.”

  “We just need to get off the highway, fast, because they know we’re here. We don’t want to be standing around here when they send minions.”

  Before we took off, I turned back to the car and ripped off one of the side mirrors. I now had my own personal scrying tool to take with me.

  And so, we began our journey on foot, running fast over rocky, forested terrain, our bodies slicked with sweat.

  Chapter 30

  After running fast from the highway, we’d spent the day walking for about five hours in the heat. The path took us over rocky, tree-lined hills. I gripped my little scrying mirror the whole time, and Lyr carried the bag of food and water.

  I wasn’t complaining about our death march through the burning heat, but I didn’t particularly feel like chatting as we walked. Neither did Lyr, it seemed. The only noise we heard was the wind whistling through the branches above us.

  Along the way, we shared a single bottle of water and a bag of chips. Every hour or so, I stopped to scry into the car mirror, making sure Gina was still okay. She seemed to be sleeping for most of the time.

  I could have sworn steam was rising from my chest, the moisture on me evaporating. Sweat had dripped down my temples and between my breasts as we walked, and I imagined myself showering in cool water. I tried not to imagine Lyr showering with me, or washing my most sensitive parts. Just showering alone, the ice-cold water running over my body.

  At last, the sun slipped down behind the trees, and the sky darkened to the color of plums.

  Lyr turned to look at me and handed me the bottle of water. To be honest, he’d hardly drunk any of it all day.

  “Don’t you need some?” I asked.

  He shook his head.

  As we walked through the darkening trees, the hair on the back of my arms stood on end. The temperature was dropping fast, and clouds were rolling in above us.

  “A storm is coming in,” said Lyr.

  No sooner had he said the words than a light rain started to fall. Within moments, it had turned into a torrent, slicking my hair to my head, plastering my clothes to my body. Looked like I’d be getting my cold shower after all.

  After walking all day in the heat, dehydrated, the rain was glorious.

  At least it was, until the wind picked up, whipping dirt and leaves into our faces.

  Lyr turned to look at me, his brow furrowed. “This doesn’t seem quite natural.”

  “No, it’s picked up too fast. I don’t suppose any of your knights know a spell for storms?” I asked.

  “They can access books.”

  Everything seemed so dark with the moon and stars hidden.

  A high-pitched keening floated on the wind, then the rumbling of thunder. Lightning touched down, hitting a tree just below us on the hill we were climbing.

  When we reached the summit, I peered out between the trunks at the hilly terrain around us. When lightning cracked the sky, I could see that the storm stretched out for miles around us.

  The fuath didn’t know where we were exactly, but they’d spread out the storm for miles, covering lots of area. The air smelled like ozone and burning junipers.

  The rain picked up even more, hammering my skin so hard it hurt. Another flash of light touched down, striking a tree only a hundred feet from us.

  “We have to find shelter,” he said. “I think there are caves nearby.”

  He started walking fast, and I hustled to keep up.

  Lighting struck again, igniting the branches on a juniper tree even closer to us. The needles lit up like little torches, some of them smoking as the rain extinguished the flames.

  With another strike of lighting, I saw a flicker of movement between the trunks. Maybe the night had shielded us from the burning sun, but it also gave cover to the gwyllion. I sniffed the air, confirming their presence with the stench of rotting plants and their high, keening call. My stomach turned.

  “Do you smell that?” I said.

  Lyr nodded. “Yes.”

  The gwyllion hunted by scent.

  I pulled the dagger from the sheath. When a twig cracked behind me, I whirled. A gwyllion lunged for me, claws out. My blade was in his eye within the next heartbeat.

  Lightning cracked the dark skies, and I caught a glimpse of gray gwyllion eyes in the distance. Many, many eyes, moving for us. An army of claw-fingered hags.

  “Did you see that?”

  There were too many of them to fight, crawling toward us up the rocky hill. We were surrounded.

  Lyr turned to me, eyes tinged with a gold that told me the Ankou was flickering in his consciousness.

  “We’ll go faster if I carry you.”

  “Seriously?”

  He pulled me to his back and hoisted me up by my rear. “Legs around me.”

  I gripped the scrying mirror as I held on to his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist.

  He took off at a shockingly fast run, like the wind rushing through the trees. I nestled my head into his neck. I could feel his pulse throbbing under his skin. As he ran, his heart was beating against mine.

  I had no idea where we were heading, but I was sure we were moving faster than the gwyllion could.

  He hadn’t been running for more than five minutes when he took a sharp turn, veering off the rocky path into a cave. I unwrapped my legs from him, and he let me go.

  Lyr—the Ankou—turned and flicked his wrist, sealing up the cave. Dark, glittery magic blocked the cave entrance.

  He caught his breath, then called up a spell for a glowing, golden light.

  I slumped against a cave wall, my legs burning after the day of hiking. “We can wait here till the
sun rises,” I said. “The gwyllion will have to slink away as the sun comes up.”

  Lyr started pacing the cave, his body tense.

  “What?” I prompted.

  “I’m shifting more than I once did. At the wrong times. I’m losing myself.”

  The curse. “What exactly did you do that was so terrible?”

  He glanced at me, looking momentarily startled, like he’d already told me much more than he should have. “Only the gods know.”

  Cloaking the truth in shadows.

  “Does it have anything to do with the fuath who are trying to open up Nova Ys?” I asked.

  He shook his head, eyes mournful. “I don’t think so.”

  My head fell into my hands, and I thought back to the fae who’d cornered me in the alley—the one with the eyes like twilight, the wings that weren’t really there. He’d had an intensity that burned like a star.

  “What if that man who followed me in Acre was the Nameless One? What if I lost my chance?”

  “Your chance for revenge?”

  “To get my power back.” My words echoed off the stone walls.

  “Do you think it’s possible?”

  “He took it away. Maybe he still has it. I actually have no idea.” I heaved a sigh. “But you believe me about him, that he drowned Ys and not me?”

  “Yes.”

  I felt my chest relax, but Lyr was still brooding. It was almost like the shadows were following him around. It felt grim in here, the rain hammering forlornly against his shield, and I wanted to draw him out of his dark mood.

  I pulled out the scrying mirror, feeling the tingle up my nape as I whispered the spell to see Gina. Nothing had changed; she still sat in a dingy stone basement. Someone had given her water at least, because it had dampened the front of her shirt. She was sleeping against the wall, her mouth open, chest rising and falling slowly. I dropped the scrying mirror.

  Lyr had stopped pacing and leaned against the wall.

  “What are you thinking about, deathling?” I asked.

  “I don’t know why, but I was just thinking about the original Ys. When I lived with my mum, before I was the Ankou. I swam on the shores, and we drank dandelion wine and ate dinner outside, under the oaks. I remember the strange music. Those were my happiest memories.”