After a few moments, I lifted my wrists, frowning at the ink in my veins. “I’m not sure this is working.” I pushed up onto my elbows, apprehension clenching my stomach.
“No.” His voice was so quiet that I could hardly hear him. “I didn’t think it would, not against a divine hex. But we will find another way. A witch, perhaps. Someone immensely powerful.”
He wrapped his arms around me again, and his wings erupted behind his shoulders. In the honeyed rays of afternoon light, the dark feathers glowed with a golden sheen.
I curled my arms around his neck. Whether or not he was capable of love, it felt good to be close to him. His wings pounded the air, and the salty wind rushed over our bodies as he lifted me into the sky. Salem’s magic was sliding over my skin, warm and silky.
“I need to find Shahar,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “Did Anat say she would let you live as long as you released me?”
“It was implied. She said she could feel your pain in the soul cage. That it was like you were burning. I did what she wanted.”
“She’s waiting for me.”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Flames lit up his eyes. “My destiny is to return to the heavens as a celestial god—the god of dusk. Only then will I be complete again. My mother waits for me and Shahar. I have until Samhain to get there.”
A little thread of pain curled through my ribs. “A celestial god again. That’s quite the destiny, Salem.”
Salem dove lower in the air, heading for Ossian and Lyr. Carefully, he landed on the rocks.
“Care to explain to me what’s happening?” barked Lyr.
Salem arched an eyebrow. “I was trying to use my healing magic, and it didn’t work.”
“I’ll take her to Beira,” said Lyr decisively. “She can heal anything. Even a divine hex such as this.”
Salem’s muscles tensed against me, but he didn’t say anything.
I shook my head. “I think we can find another witch, right? Lyr—you remember that she wanted to take my power from me? With that binding collar? It was the whole reason I ran away from you.”
Lyr shrugged. “It doesn’t seem you have any power anyway.”
“That’s not the point,” I said. “I don’t trust her.”
Ossian stared at me on the ground. “What about Salem’s mum?”
All three of us gaped at him. Salem’s heat was warming the stones again, melting the frost on the corpses around us. The stench of death rose in the air.
“Anat wanted Salem out,” added Ossian. “Maybe she’ll be grateful. Grant a boon or something. She’s a celestial goddess. She’s bound to have a cure.”
“My mother is a goddess of slaughter. She doesn’t deal in life.” Smoky tendrils swept behind Salem as he spoke, taking on the shape of his dark wings. “Gods are not going to help us. They’ll only want more sacrifices, more debt, greater bondage. No… I think I have someone else in mind.”
10
Salem
My mind was on fire. I stroked my fingertips over Lightbringer’s hilt—my sword hewn from the stars. It was only a few days more…
If she survived this divine hex coursing through her veins, then my love would kill Aenor next. The more time we spent together, the greater the risk to her. And yet… I wasn’t going to leave her ailing like this.
I glanced at the sun, still marveling at the fact that I’d only been under the sea for one day. It had felt like I’d been in there for centuries. At least a month. A single day was unfathomable.
This news was both wonderful and terrible. On the one hand, I still had a chance to ascend to the heavens. On the other hand, I had a nearly impossible task to achieve in this time. Cure Aenor, without letting anyone realize that I actually cared for her.
A droplet of water slid off my body and sizzled over the hot rocks. Still cradling Aenor, I turned toward the sea. Tendrils of steam curled off the stone beneath my feet.
Shahar… What if she was the answer? She had been a healer once. I turned back to the others and gently lowered Aenor to the rocks. I kept my arm around her waist, steadying her against me. “I’m going to call my twin. She knows about healing.”
Aenor cleared her throat. “Will she be annoyed about the whole… you know… that time I drowned her for a hundred fifty years?”
“Perhaps, but she won’t hurt you.” Aenor might not know she was my mate, but Shahar knew. And for my sake, Shahar would never kill my mate. It would ruin my life.
I closed my eyes and whispered in the timeless speech of the gods—the angelic language that was my native tongue. Through our ancient bond as twins, I felt the ruddy hues of my magic mingling with her cool morning light.
I breathed in deeply, the scent of smoke curling around me. After just one day in the soul cage, I felt I was losing control of myself again, my ancient curse growing hotter. I took another deep breath, this time catching Aenor’s scent. A pulse of heat rippled out from my body. I was like a moth to the flame of the mating bond, burning itself alive…
With Aenor around, I risked distraction. All thoughts of the heavens evaporated from my mind like water on coals.
Because right now, I was thinking of healing her, then dragging her into a cave to pull her clothes off her. I was thinking of my hands and mouth all over her body.
And the thought that Lyr was standing nearby filled me with a different sort of fire. I shot a quick look back at him, imagining how his skin would look cracking with the heat of a star. The thought brought a faint smile to my lips.
But when I left this world, I’d be free of these tormented thoughts. The celestial gods had no carnal desires, untethered by the cravings of corporeal forms.
At that moment, I felt the soft, golden heat of Shahar’s magic—like rays of morning light warming my skin. It had been so long since I’d felt her magic.
I stared up at the skies, and my heart leapt when I saw her arcing through the clouds, wings beating the air. She’d been so weak when I first found her, but already, she’d recovered. As she swooped down to us, her silver hair streamed behind her. Light beamed from her head like a halo, and silver wings cascaded down her back, gilded slightly by the sun.
As she flew closer, my heart tightened again. Although her magic glowed around her, she was still far too emaciated. She looked like she needed to eat pies for a decade.
It wouldn’t matter, though—not when she was leaving this body behind so soon.
Her smile was radiant as she landed in the water by the shore, her feet splashing a little in the waves. She’d found fresh clothing somewhere: a plain black dress that hung off her skeletal form.
She cocked her head, staying where she was. “Salem! I was wondering what happened to you.”
Fallen gods didn’t have the sort of familial warmth that would be normal to humans. I’d incinerate a city for her, but we would never do something so dreadful as hug each other. And I’d sooner cut my wings off than make small talk.
I glanced at Aenor. “I was trapped in the soul cage for a day. My…” Smoldering hells, what did I call Aenor? Never before had someone thrown me off so much. But just in case Shahar was going to fly into a murderous rage, I wanted to present Aenor in the best light possible. “My traveling companion, Aenor, made a great sacrifice to save me from that prison.”
“Traveling companion,” Lyr repeated, his words dripping with disdain. “Is that what we’re calling it these days?”
I gestured at Lyr. “Let me introduce you to Lyr, the half-divine, morose sea-fuck. And Ossian, a friend.”
Shahar had gone still as the rocks beneath my feet, her eyes locked on Aenor. When she sniffed the air, a pale blue light flashed in her eyes.
She remembered. A chill danced up my nape.
Shahar pointed a bony finger at Aenor. “I remember your scent, creature.”
Aenor shot me a sharp look, and her meaning was clear: This is a bad idea. “Oh?”
Shahar took another step closer to Aenor, s
till pointing. “You helped the Merrow. What was it? Two days ago? Three? I came out feeling terrible.”
Two days ago? She really had no idea…
Aenor looked like she was ready to throw up again. “It was a bit longer than that. We needed your magic to seal up the ocean floor, or the world would have burned. I’m sorry it had to be you.” She lifted her wrists. “And now? I’m the sacrificial body on the slab to keep the Earth safe. But the world isn’t on fire, so we can all feel good about that.” She attempted a bright tone.
My twin had gone even stiller, the only movement her silver hair writhing around her head. And now would be the time to intervene, before our familial legacy of slaughter spilled Aenor’s blood all over the rocks.
“What happened to my cats?” Shahar demanded with a quiet rage.
“I fed them, Shahar,” I said hurriedly. “Long ago. I still have one of their line.”
Then, I spoke within Shahar’s mind, angelic words that hissed and sizzled. Shahar, Aenor is my mate. I need you to help her, and then we can ascend to the heavens. We must ascend before Samhain in two days, but I won’t leave my mate to die.
Shahar’s sharp eyes darted to me, and her lip curled. This one is your mate?
“She’s dying as a result of a sacrifice she made to save me,” I said.
Warily, Shahar took a step closer to Aenor. She frowned as she looked down at my mate’s wrists, then lifted them gently. “Mmm. A god did this. I see. These lines of magic are moving, slowly.” She dropped Aenor’s wrists. “I can’t help you. This is the work of the sea god, and only a witch who has served him can fix it. You need to find yourself a powerful witch of a sea court.”
Disappointment coiled through my body. “Are you sure, Shahar?”
“Yes, I’m sure. There is only one healer I know of powerful enough to fix something like this, and she can be difficult.”
“Who?” asked Lyr.
Shahar smoothed out her dress. “The Night Maiden of Mag Mell.”
My mood darkened more. The last time I’d gone to the Maid of Night, Mistress of the Court of Silks, I’d asked her to remove my curse. What she’d wanted in return was more than I could bear to give. “Lady Richelle tends to ask for a heavy price.”
Lyr cocked his head and snapped, “Too heavy a price for Aenor’s life?”
I thought of his skin burning again.
“She’s the only option that I know of,” said Shahar. “And you don’t have much time. If you don’t like what she asks for, you can always decline.”
Lyr stared at Aenor. “And you still think this is better than going to Beira?”
Not an option.
“Beira’s not trustworthy,” she replied.
Good.
Aenor touched my arm. “What can you tell me about this Maid of Night?”
“She rules a hidden realm of Mag Mell called the Court of Silks. It’s a hedonistic place, though she herself is a virgin. She believes her virginity confers her more power.”
“You seem to know this court well,” said Lyr.
“Yes, well, I created it long ago.” I wrapped my arm around Aenor’s waist. She looked like she was about to faint. “What’s your verdict?”
Her gaze darted between Lyr and me. “Let’s go to the virgin witch in the orgy court.”
I nodded. “Good.”
Lyr took a step away from us, retreating toward his portal. He looked furious. “I think you’re making the wrong choice, Aenor. But it’s yours to make. If you need me, you know how to summon me.”
Anger simmered. She won’t need you.
I watched him scoop up one of his fallen soldiers and leap into the water. I didn’t want to think about the possibility that Aenor might return to him after I was forced to leave this world.
Shahar touched my shoulder and pulled me away from Aenor. “I can see what’s happening to you,” she whispered. “Your curse is growing worse again. Like the old days. But this time, do whatever Richelle asks of you. What difference does it make? We’ll be gone soon. It won’t be permanent.”
“I’m certain I can charm her this time,” I said, with a lot more certainty than I felt.
I just had to stay in control. It had taken me a long time to master the art of smothering my emotions, but I was fairly good at it now. It was like icy water poured on a fire, choking out the flames until nothing was left but wet ash. Dull, gray, lifeless ash inside. Empty.
I looked back at Aenor, at the soft curves of her body. I tried to tell myself that I didn’t care for her, that I felt nothing. The words rolled around inside my head, a futile prayer to the heavens.
I needed to turn myself to wet ash again.
11
Aenor
My blood rumbled loudly in my ears, like thunder over the horizon. I sat against a palm tree, watching Shahar and Salem talking quietly to each other. They never touched each other, but warmth lit up their eyes.
Salem liked to tell everyone he couldn’t love—he tossed those words carelessly on the wind like dandelion seeds. But there was something not quite right about his declaration. Clearly, he loved Shahar.
He was crossing back to me now, his expression soft.
My mouth was dry as sand as I rose unsteadily, and I tried to wet my lips. “I wouldn’t mind getting cleaned up a bit before we leave for Mag Mell.”
Ossian sidled up next to me, linking his arm through mine. “I think I might be able to help with your nausea, too. Come back to my house. I’ll get you some tea.”
Imagine if my mate were Ossian. Someone nice, with cute birds tweeting around him. Would’ve been pretty sweet.
I nodded. “Okay. Good idea. I’ll call a boat up from the waves.”
Shahar frowned at me. “Can you do that? I can see some magic around you, but not much.”
It was only at that point that I felt its absence, a gnawing emptiness in my chest. Panic flickered in my mind, and I gripped Ossian’s arm hard, my nails digging in.
“Easy.” He pried my nails from his skin.
“No,” I whispered, “you’re right, Shahar. I can’t feel my magic.” I closed my eyes, feeling for my connection to the sea. It was there still, a faint, misty line between me and the water. I imagined a boat summoned from the droplets of seawater, gleaming in the sun. That should have been enough to create one, to lure it closer to us.
But when I opened my eyes again, I saw only a cloud of fog before me.
My jaw dropped in shock, heart sinking. “The sea god stole my magic. Gods have mercy.”
“Now you’re panicking,” said Ossian. “The fact that you’re about to die in a couple of days didn’t warrant an outburst, but the loss of magic gets your fingernails digging into my skin. You have some very disturbed priorities, do you know that?” He sighed. “I’ll call my own boat. Will you be joining us, Shahar?”
Her forehead creased. “I don’t think I’ve eaten in quite some time.”
“I’ll get you fed,” he promised. “Just give me a moment to get my boat here.”
Salem was studying me with a curious expression, and I stared right back at him, my breath catching at his beauty. The sunlight sculpted his cheekbones and the masculine cut of his jaw. Looking at him was almost painful.
Fire burned in his eyes. He took a deep breath. For a moment, he reached out for me—then he clenched his fist again, pulling it away like he’d been burned.
He turned from me, staring out at the waves. “The Maid of Night will be able to fix this. I’m sure of it.”
As he stared out to sea, I followed his gaze. It was with some relief that I found Ossian’s little wooden boat moving toward us, bobbing up and down over the waves. When the boat drifted up to the rocky shore, I waded into the water and climbed in. I sat on one of the rough wooden seats and let my head fall into my hands. Don’t puke. Don’t puke.
When we pushed off the shore, the feel of the salty wind over my body was like a balm. After a few minutes, I straightened, feeling a little better. Salem sa
t next to me, heat radiating from his body.
Across from me, Ossian rested against the side of the boat. “What I don’t get is, why couldn’t the god of the sea stop the Fomorians without this bargain? It’s his bloody sea. He should’ve had a vested interest in keeping it from boiling. Could’ve done it without all the dramatics.”
“Because the earthly gods are a bottomless pit of need,” said Salem. “They are fallen, too.”
Shahar stared at the sky. “When you fall from the heavens, it creates an emptiness that can never be filled. It’s like your soul is a faint voice echoing in a void. The earthly gods try to fill that chasm, eating the worship of devotees. They demand sacrifices, love. But they will never be full.”
“There is only one way to quiet that torment,” said Salem quietly, “and that is to return to the heavens.”
* * *
I’d been resting in Ossian’s bed for hours, and when I woke, two white pills and a cup of steaming tea sat on the bedside table next to me. Sitting on the edge of the bed was a glaring Gina.
“What’s in the tea?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Ossian crushed up a bunch of weird herbs, but I’ve got some ibuprofen because I don’t expect that hippy plant shit to work. Take the pills.”
I was too tired to argue, so I popped them in my mouth and washed them down with Ossian’s tea. It was a strong, bitter brew, and it was warming me already. I sat up in bed, surveying his bedroom—a cozy space, with lanterns casting warm light over dark wood. Every corner was crammed with books, moss and plants growing between them. From the other room, soft reggae floated through the air. Again, it struck me that Ossian would have made a lovely, soothing mate—the kind who’d bring me tea and read books next to me in bed.
I took another deep sip of the bitter brew, and I could feel it working already. Warmth spread out through my chest, a feeling of calm. The ache in my muscles, especially around my wrists, started to subside. I still didn’t have the rush of my powerful sea magic, but I’d spent so long living without it that the initial shock was over.
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