Rising Queen

by Crawford, C. N.

“Eventually, I crawled from the cave, and instinct made me hunt. But I hated it. It was different than fighting in the celestial realm. The arrow through an animal’s neck, the wide-eyed look as it bled out. The creature’s frantic movements while it panicked during its last moments. At first, I loathed the world around me and the pain it entailed.”

  I blinked. “You felt guilty for hunting.”

  “At first. So, I spent a lot of time starving and barefoot.”

  “And how did you end up as king of Mag Mell?”

  “I had to become civilized. I had to understand the beauty alive around me. There was one morning when I rose early. Dawn—that was Shahar’s time of day. The chorus of birds had begun: warblers, wrens, tawny owls. I realized I’d come to love their song, and I loved the way the light looked from down here on Earth… like the heavens were blessing us with amber magic.”

  His eyes had taken on a distant look, a subtle smile on his lips.

  “For the first time, I saw the life around me as beautiful, and I knew I wasn’t dead. And I started to feel Shahar’s presence somewhere around me. I crawled from the dark cave, and I learned to truly live—the joys of music and dance, food cooked to perfection. I threw myself into the pleasures of the earth completely. I found that I enjoyed women, and they enjoyed me. I learned to like fighting again. I always had that emptiness inside me—but pleasure could mask it.”

  “Until you were cursed. And then it was back to a cave. Is that right?”

  “And now you know everything.”

  But I didn’t—not at all. Because I didn’t know who his true love was.

  And the miserable bitch wanted me dead.

  15

  Aenor

  The speed of Salem’s flight had picked up since the attack, but I kept peering over his shoulder, looking for anyone else trying to kill me. “Do you think we’ll see more of those ice witches, then? They did seem very determined that you should end my life.”

  Salem glanced over his shoulder. “I don’t think they’re done with us, no. But when I leave this world, you won’t be in danger anymore.”

  My thoughts were still snagged on the woman who was waiting for him. Would she be joining him in the heavens? I wasn’t the jealous kind, but it all left a bitter taste in my mouth. I wanted to hunt her down and end her life myself.

  “Your one true love wants me to die, but when you’re gone, she won’t care anymore. Is that it?” The mystery of it kept whirling in my mind, a vortex of ice. “They said they’d find you and kill you if you don’t do it. Shatter you into pieces to trap you on the earth, so you wouldn’t get to return to your home.”

  He met my gaze. “You should believe every terrible thing about me—that I’m evil down to my bones.” His smooth voice slid over me like a seductive caress. “But I won’t hurt you, Aenor. I can’t. You have to have that faith in me, as certain as the sun sets every day. I don’t care what the witches want; I’m not going to kill you.”

  I felt my chest release, and I let out a long breath. I believed him. “Faith. Okay.”

  But something was still troubling him, his brow furrowed. “Do you still have the sea glass?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyebrow quirked. “Good. I like how you think. Always put self-preservation first.”

  “And why would I need it,” I said, “if you’d never hurt me?”

  “Because there are forces conspiring against us.” His low whisper warmed the shell of my ear. “And you might need to put me in my place. Get me on my knees before you, at your service.” He managed to deliver that last sentence with a deeply sensual tone that made my head swim with erotic thoughts.

  Even after all that—the whole bit about his one true love and how he had to leave here—he still wanted to seduce me? “Are we almost at Mag Mell?” I asked.

  “I like how your heart speeds up around me,” he purred.

  “The racing pulse is fear, Salem.”

  “It’s a difficult distinction,” he said, his voice husky. “Fear and lust, nearly identical in what they do to a body—the racing heart, the dilating pupils, the breath quickening. But it’s not exactly the same, is it? Not with your chest flushing.”

  Still, I felt acutely aware of each point where our bodies made contact: my hips pressed against his hard abs, his arms encircling me, fingertips curled just above my knees.

  Spending time around him was definitely dangerous.

  The sea air whispered over the tops of my thighs, and I was suddenly aware that the hem of my dress had slid up. I tugged it down again.

  But while his words were seductive, something dark hung between us now, like a dead star. It was the mystery woman waiting for him—an unknowable phantom. Someone from Mag Mell, I supposed, from long ago.

  “I lost my thermos,” I said, hoping to break the spell. Already, my throat was burning, and I was all out of tea.

  It was with relief that I glanced out over the sea and saw the rocky island come into view: a silhouette under the moon, mountainous and capped by a castle. I licked my lips, then tried to swallow to soothe my parched throat.

  We swept over the black sea, the wind whipping over me. He seemed to be taking a curving path around the outskirts of Mag Mell. After another minute, I could feel his path begin to descend.

  “We’re closing in on the Court of Silks.” His heart beat against my ribs, and his warmth pulsed around my body as we flew.

  In his arms, my wet dress had gone from ice-cold to warm. The white fabric was still damp enough to be see-through—a fact that Salem did not miss, given where his eyes kept straying.

  I regretted pulling my jacket off in the water.

  As we swept over the shoreline, I looked down at a rocky coast lined with ruined buildings. We were outside the gates of Mag Mell.

  Salem landed gently, not far from the waves crashing against the shore, and I slid down his body. Only ten feet away, stone ruins stood at the water’s edge. They looked like the remnants of a medieval abbey, but glistening with seawater in the moonlight. High above, the arches towered over us, tall as trees and piercing the skies.

  “It’s enchanted, I take it?” I asked. “The hidden realm is concealed by magic?”

  Salem’s eyes pierced the darkness, dusky hues that shifted from umber to periwinkle. “Yes. I just need to remember exactly how to pull the enchantment away.”

  “Is there anything I need to know before we go in?”

  He turned to me with an easy smile. “It’s the court of pleasure, so you could try to enjoy yourself.”

  I lifted my wrists. “The visible reminder of death coursing through my veins might put a bit of a damper on that, I think.”

  His smile faded fast. “Well, all I can tell you is that Lady Richelle, Maid of Night, can be manipulative in her own way. But she is a fae oracle, which means she cannot lie. It’s her own curse. So, whatever she tells us will be the truth. It’s been a long time since I’ve come here, so beyond that, I can’t tell you too much.”

  As I stepped closer, my eyes danced over carvings in the stones—seashells, tridents, curling waves. “So, this court—it’s a part of Mag Mell? You used to rule over them?”

  “In a way.” I watched as his feathered wings disappeared into the shadows. “They pay tribute to the king, and so they have his protection. But with the enchantment over the city, they can develop their own laws and customs. People mostly forget about them, unless coming here for a night of pleasure.”

  He pressed his hand against a stone carving of a mermaid and whispered something under his breath. Light radiated from his body, and the stone glowed red beneath his hand. Like molten lava spreading out, the magic slid over the ruined arch until it had overtaken all of it.

  “What’s this spell you’re using?” I asked.

  “A king is connected to his land. When I was first banished, the land itself shut me out. No doors would have opened. The trees would have wrapped their boughs around me to choke me if I’d set foot in this place. B
ut with an ailing king, the land is welcoming me back.”

  I hugged myself, waiting to see a court spring up around me. A buried thought was churning in the depths of my mind, a little maelstrom of worry. But whatever it was, I pushed it back down under the surface.

  Then, as I stared, the stones around us started to shift, forming solid walls. A vaulted ceiling grew over us, glowing with Salem’s magic, until an entire corridor surrounded us.

  I whistled. “Cool.”

  Metal sconces lit the walls, and a tile floor now appeared beneath our feet, with mosaics of waves and seashells. It smelled of Salem in here—fruit and smoke melded together.

  And it all happened so fast that it took me a moment to realize we weren’t alone in this enormous hall.

  16

  Aenor

  At the far end of the hall, just before a wooden door, stood a guard wearing dark clothes trimmed with fur. Glowering, he gripped a trident that glowed with faint magic. His silver braids draped over his pauldrons.

  “Has this world been cut off from the rest for a long time?” I whispered.

  “It has.” Salem’s dark eyebrows drew together. “In fact, it’s just as I remember it.”

  We crossed through towering halls of dark stone, beneath ceilings engraved with waves. I could still hear the sea crashing against the rocky shores outside. Salem stayed close to me, arm brushing mine as he strode through the hallway. He looked completely confident, like he owned the place—and maybe he did, in a way.

  I licked my lips, my mouth like sand. Red-hot thirst burned my throat.

  The guard’s eyes swept over me, lingering for a moment on my legs. Then his gaze darted to Salem, and his jaw dropped. Recognition, I thought. The guard gripped his trident tighter, body tensing. His eyes widened as he sniffed the air.

  Then he fell to his knees. “King Salem has returned.”

  We stopped walking just before the guard, and I peered down at the top of his head.

  Salem cocked his chin. “You can stand up. Technically, there’s been a new king for several thousand years.”

  The guard kept his eyes down. “I recognized you by the feel of your power. By the smell of your magic. It’s still in the stones of around us. You created this place.”

  “It is one of my favorite places,” said Salem.

  “The usurper, King Tethra, grows weak and mad,” said the guard. “And the kingdom grows barren as he withers. Crops have failed; fruit dies on the vines. Our animals sicken. Only the Maid of Night is keeping the land alive. The fields are in faint bloom with her virtuous power.”

  “Of course they are. Look, I’m here to pay tribute to her and to ask for a wee favor.”

  From the ground, the guard’s gaze flicked up to me. “Will your swan be joining you?”

  Salem flashed me a wicked smile, his eyes twinkling. Whatever a swan was, he seemed to like the sound of it. “My swan will join me, yes.” Then, conspiratorially, to the guard: “She does love to be close to me. You know how a loyal swan can get, I’m sure.”

  Why were they calling me a swan? Clearly, I was missing something.

  The man smiled up at him, then stood. “I remember, from long ago.”

  He pulled open the door. I’d expected some sort of kingdom spread out before us. Instead, it was a stone gatehouse, flanked by towering walls on either side. Narrow windows looked out from the walls, and torches hung between them. They cast wavering light over the cobblestones and the rivulets of seawater that ran between them. A soothing trickling sound filled the air.

  As we stepped onto the path, the sensual breeze was heavy with the perfumed scent of lilacs and brine. To my right, decorations and trinkets dangled from the stones. Ribbons, lockets, and little glass bottles glinted in the moonlight.

  I turned to look back at the guard, who nodded at us. “Good luck.”

  The door shut behind him, and the gatehouse in which he’d stood shimmered away so that we could see the forested shore behind us.

  I turned, staring up at the gatehouse. It was staggeringly high, with spires that pierced the sky.

  Now that we were alone, I had a question for Salem. “Okay. What’s with the swan thing?”

  “The Mag Mell swans. They’re women who provide pleasure here, important players in the hedonistic lifestyle.” He pointed to the trinkets. “You see those memorials? They’re for the swans. They were buried out here on the outskirts of the city, and those are the memorials. They once wore long white gloves that they used to beckon men from the windows, like swans’ necks.”

  “Why were they buried outside the walls?”

  He shrugged. “They were usually human.”

  “And why are we pretending that I’m a swan?”

  “I think it’s a brilliant idea.”

  I crossed my arms. “And why is that, exactly?”

  “It’s like I said before. I have a claim to the crown, and that puts my mate at risk. But a simple swan is no threat to anyone. Even a fae swan.”

  “A simple swan. That’s me.”

  “If I were to claim the crown of Mag Mell, do you know how many women would kill for the chance to be my queen? Lady Richelle included. Best not to make you a target.”

  My throat burned so much that I didn’t care to protest. “Fine. I’m a swan.”

  His eyes danced with mischief. “Aenor Dahut, Scourge of the Wicked, Swan of King Salem.”

  “Okay, you need to stop.”

  “It’s just this image I have of you wearing chains and nothing else.” The deep rumble of his voice trembled over me.

  Warmth slipped over my damp skin. “I get it now. I should have taken my chances with the Winter Witch and her binding collar.”

  The air seemed to shift, growing darker around us. “I don’t think that would be wise.”

  He stepped closer and ran the backs of his knuckles over my waist. It annoyed me that just one touch from him sent heat racing through my core.

  “If I weren’t leaving this world,” he whispered into my ear, “I’d take the throne in Mag Mell. I’d keep you by my side. I’d get to know every inch of your beautiful body.” His voice was like a torturous silk running over my bare skin. Lazily, his knuckles brushed up and down my side, then swept over my hipbone. Heat tingled along with his touch. “You’d be mine, and I’d make you moan every night. And if anyone tried to harm you, I’d paint the palace walls with their blood.”

  “Seduction and carnage all in one. How could a girl resist?” I mumbled. My breath had sped up. “But you know what? That seems like a lot of commitment for someone who can’t love.”

  At that, his fingers stilled, and he dropped his hand. He took a step away from me, then smoothed his shirt. “It’s a fantasy I’ll be taking with me. Now, let’s get this over with, shall we?”

  He turned back to the gatehouse and strode up to the enormous wooden doors. He lifted the ornate knocker, then slammed it down again four times. The sound echoed off the stone.

  After a few moments, a man slid open a window in the gatehouse, his braided orange hair framing his face. Instantly, his eyes went wide. “The oracle was correct! I told Melurial that the oracle was correct. She never listens, just because I once mistakenly told her that you can hypnotize a goat by stroking its stomach while singing. Apparently, it’s not true, but the oracle said you would be returning, King Salem, and I was right about that.”

  Salem stared up at him. “Wonderful. Can you let us through?”

  A moment later, the gatehouse door swung open, and a towering fae stood before us. But my gaze was already moving beyond the guard, to where a city spread out over the ocean waves.

  As Salem spoke to the enthusiastic guard, I was hardly listening. This city was breathtaking—as beautiful as Ys. I stepped beyond them to take it all in. Salem had built this, and it was beautiful.

  The Court of Silks seemed to be formed of three concentric land rings, with a rocky mount in the center. From where we stood, a walkway extended all the way to the mi
ddle, connecting the circles. Looming over the court was a palace on the hill’s rocky peak. Carved of dark stone, it looked like it had grown from the hillside itself—beautiful and stark. A crescent shape capped one of its towers, like a bull’s horns, or a moon.

  I pulled my gaze from the distant palace to look at the closer structures. On the rings of land, steep-peaked houses crowded the shores. Many of the homes had lights burning in them, a cozy look. They were timber framed, crooked from age, many of the walls and roofs were decorated with seashells, and dark water glittered all around.

  I breathed in the briny air. This was a true sea kingdom. Apart from my insane thirst, I felt amazing here.

  I looked back at Salem.

  “And that’s why you will rule again as king!” the guard said. “It’s the prophecy.”

  “Of course it is.” Salem gestured at me. “Now, where do I find the Maid of the Night to heal my swan? Is Lady Richelle still found in the palace?”

  I fluttered my eyelashes. “I’m his favorite swan, and I’m dying. It’s quite disappointing.”

  The man’s eyebrows went up, and he took in my outfit, his gaze lingering for far too long on my breasts in the semi-sheer dress. He licked his lips, stunned for a moment.

  Salem said, “Is there a problem?” in a sharp tone.

  The man seemed to snap out of his trance. “Swan. Right. It’s been a long time. What was the question?”

  “Where do we find Lady Richelle?” asked Salem. “The Horned Palace, still?”

  “Yes, that’s right. I’ll let her know to expect you, though she probably already knows that you are here. She’s an amazing prophetess. Her power is the only reason Mag Mell is still standing at all. She protects us all with her eternal virginity.”

  Salem arched an eyebrow. “How kind of her.” He tilted his head. “Do you happen to know how the ice witches are doing? The ones from the forest of Mag Mell?”

  The guard’s eyes opened wider. “They are a plague on the kingdom. A symptom of its sickness. It was a blessing that you burned most of them, Your Majesty.”