Dark Fae

by Quinn Blackbird

  “What?” I snapped, and kicked the door shut behind me.

  My vexed glare found Tahmir kneeling by the dwindling pile of firewood.

  Straw-like hair was piled messily atop her head, her bun so heavy that it was starting to droop down the side of her squared face. My brother’s wife was no looker, but that wasn’t a problem I had with her. And I had many.

  Tahmir looked me up and down with an obvious sneer before she slapped her meaty hand down on the firewood basket. “Didn’t fill it up today?”

  I folded my aching arms over my chest. “Clearly not.”

  It took all I had to not throw in some unkindly words. But we’d all agreed—me, Tahmir, and my brother, Moritz—that in front of their son, we would bite our tongues.

  Last time Tahmir and I went at it, hands were thrown, not just words. If we were all going to live together, we had to find ways to tolerate better.

  “Well, I don’t know what your brother will think about that,” she shot back at me.

  Petal, my whiny snot-nosed nephew, snored on the lumpy couch by the fireplace. Only because he slept did Tahmir let some disdain slip into her venomous tone.

  “He’ll probably wonder why the Gods sent him you.” I shrugged. “Since you’ve done nothing all day, and you’ll do nothing all night.” My arms dropped to my sides and my stare turned withering. “Everyone else on this isle manages to balance work and chores just fine. Why can’t you?”

  That was what grated on me most with Tahmir.

  She was entitled. There was no reason for it. She wasn’t born into wealth, or destined for great things.

  Gods, we lived on the smallest of the Commos Isles. Still, she found a way to hold onto that bizarre fussiness of hers.

  “Being a new mother isn’t easy, Valissa.” Tahmir shoved up from the floorboards, her thin, cracked lips twisting into something ugly. “It’s the hardest work there is. I don’t always have time to run the errands, so you will have to.”

  Maybe she was right. Petal wasn’t an easy child to care for. But I was no mother or wife, yet I did the work of both and more.

  Still, ‘new mother…’

  “Petal is three, he’s not a new-born.” At my sides, my hands fisted. “Besides, I already do most of your chores, my own, and I work,” I added. “All you have to do is go to the market and buy some firewood and sustenance. No one’s asking you to cut down a tree, Tahmir.”

  “Work!” She cackled a rough sound, like tree bark breaking off in the Frost Season. “A dancer of the night is not a job, Valissa. It’s a filthy hobby. One that will make sure you never marry on this isle.”

  Maybe that was why she hated me? Not so much me, but my work.

  I had no shame in it.

  I danced at the tavern some nights and at the rare midnight party we had on the isle. Now that I watched that sneer on Tahmir’s face turn into something grimmer than I could have imagined, I was sure of it. She loathed me for my work.

  I shrugged with as much care as I had for her, which was none.

  “Not everyone dreams of marriage,” I said, and turned my back on her.

  Just as I made to go through the door, Tahmir muttered a word that froze me on the spot.

  “Avsky.”

  For a moment, I stood there, staring at the cracks in the door. A lump swelled in my throat. I was choking—on the rage flooding me, the hurt gutting me.

  Abomination.

  Not a word thrown at someone for their type of work. Not a word heard on Zwayk, or anywhere for that matter.

  Tahmir risked my life by speaking that word. She could have exposed my secret. The very secret my mother died to protect.

  Tahmir might as well have spit on my mother’s grave.

  Slowly, I looked over my shoulder at her and let all my calm rage flood my stony face.

  “If you ever say that word again,” I hissed, “I’ll cut your tongue out while you sleep.”

  Tahmir’s tanned face suddenly drained of all colour, and I found myself staring a terrified ghost of a woman. Whether or not I would act on my threat didn’t matter—she believed me. That was all that mattered.

  Before I could turn back to the door, it burst open and my brother barged in. I jumped back before his bulky shoulder could take me off my feet.

  I stumbled against the wall.

  Tahmir gasped, the faint touches of her fear lingering on her pasty-looking face.

  “Gods, Moritz! What’s the matter with you?” Her strangled voice hitched to shaky anger. “Petal could have been by the door! You could have taken him clean off his feet—”

  Mortiz ignored her, and his feverish eyes found me.

  I felt my heart sink to my stomach. I knew that look. It could only mean something terrible.

  “A ship,” he said through harsh breaths. “Black sails, headed our way.”

  I sank against the wall, tension pulling from my body like a ribbon unwinding. Sure enough, as I looked out the dusty window to the docks, I caught a sail-less ship writhing against the horizon.

  “Moritz, you near frightened me to death.” I pressed my hand against my beating heart, as if to soothe it. “We should go over the sort of news worthy of barging through the door and almost flooring me.”

  Moritz wasn’t to be calmed.

  He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. “Black sails, Lissa,” he growled. “Undocumented sailors. There might be aniels on that ship.”

  I shrugged him off. “You’re paranoid. As far as we know, plenty of aniels come through the isle—they just don’t make themselves known. And neither do I.”

  Tahmir fixed her bulging eyes on me.

  I read her too easily.

  With Mortiz’s panic at my secret being found out, she was afraid I would tell him what she called me. And then she would be in a wave of trouble.

  I almost told him. If only to see her squirm. To soften some of the prickly urges in me, the urges that never went away no matter how much I ignored them.

  Monster…

  But I didn’t get the chance to tell Moritz, because not a moment later, an excited knock rattled the door.

  A knock I knew better than my own hand.

  “Ava,” I squealed and rushed around my bulk of a brother.

  Moritz made no move to stop me as I swung open the door to a hit of icy air and a beaming round face.

  Hair like rusty metal coils curled around the familiar face. Coffee-brown eyes gleamed brighter than fresh pots in the morning.

  Ava rushed past me faster than the sea breeze that snuck in with her.

  “A ship is docking,” she squealed, hands clapping together in a flurry.

  I could almost see the sparks of excitement fizzle around her curvy frame.

  “Moritz beat you to it.” I smirked and booted the rickety door shut. “And I have a window.”

  Her face shuttered for a moment, then she looked around the bare cabin. Ava finished with a glance out the window where the shadows of the ship drew nearer our isle.

  “Moritz?” she turned back to me.

  “He says,” I added with a lingering look at my brother’s scowl, “the ship flies no sails.”

  For a beat, she just looked at me. I hated it whenever she stared at me like that, as if I was missing part of my head.

  The moment shattered as she grinned widely at me; her smile stretched ear to ear. “No sails,” she confirmed.

  No sails meant off the books, a mysterious blend of pirates, sailors and privateers. Might have even been illegal whalers boarding our tiny isle, which meant debauchery and coin.

  “Madame Jasmeen changed our schedule,” Ava told me. “We’re working the party tonight.”

  Every time ships docked at our isle for the night, we threw a party at midnight. Not because we were gracious hosts here on Zwayk. It was for the business and coins we could drain out of the travellers.

  I loved a good party.

  Still, my lips flattened into a line. “As dancers or—”

  “Ente
rtainers.” Ava flashed me her dimples and a wicked wink.

  I lit up like lanterns at night with a grin of my own. No dancing, no real work, no pouring drinks—we were going to be paid to party.

  And to think Tahmir judged my work.

  The wretched sister-in-law whispered in Mortiz’s ear and tucked Petal behind her legs. He must have woken up sometime during the excitement between Moritz barging in and mine and Ava’s none-too-quiet glee.

  Whatever it was that Tahmir was whispering, Moritz took the reins and spoke for her, “If you’re working the party tonight, don’t come home. Stay at Ava’s or the balneum.”

  I rolled my eyes and cut him a glare. “Like I’ll be finished before sunrise.”

  Even if an aniel was hidden on that ship and somehow discovered what I could do, Petal and his overprotective parents wouldn’t be the ones in danger. The blood that would stain the shore would be mine.

  Besides, I couldn’t stand to live on this isolated isle that was one village and one woods, if there wasn’t anything to look forward to.

  Ships at the pier were the only thing to get excited about around here.

  New and familiar faces would mingle all over the village all night with booze and music and stolen kisses.

  Ava snatched my hand, pulling my attention back to her. That grim look was painted back onto her face. “Who are you talking to?”

  Her voice was as small and quiet as Petal by the fireplace.

  “Moritz,” I said, and gestured lazily over my shoulder.

  Ava hesitated, her gaze cutting around the cabin. “Lissa,” she said softly and squeezed my hand. “You’re confused again. Moritz…”

  Whatever she was going to tell me, I didn’t find out. She trailed off with a sigh, then forced a bright smile onto her face.

  “We’ll get ready at work,” she decided suddenly. “You need a bath.” She paused to sniff me and made a horrid face that snuck a smile over my own lips. “Or three.”

  With a snort, I waved bye to the tense trio by the fireplace then let Ava drag me back into the chill of the isle.

  END OF SAMPLE CHAPTER