Fallen King
Court of the Sea Fae — Book Two
C.N. Crawford
Contents
1. Aenor
2. Salem
3. Aenor
4. Aenor
5. Aenor
6. Aenor
7. Aenor
8. Aenor
9. Salem
10. Salem
11. Aenor
12. Salem
13. Aenor
14. Aenor
15. Salem
16. Aenor
17. Aenor
18. Aenor
19. Salem
20. Aenor
21. Aenor
22. Salem
23. Aenor
24. Salem
25. Aenor
26. Salem
27. Aenor
28. Salem
29. Aenor
30. Salem
31. Aenor
32. Aenor
33. Salem
34. Aenor
35. Aenor
36. Aenor
37. Salem
38. Aenor
39. Salem
40. Aenor
Acknowledgments
Also by C.N. Crawford
1
Aenor
From a window in the fortress, I gazed down at the streets of Acre. Dusk stained the sky blood red. I was nearly out of time here at the Court of the Sea Fae.
Salem was coming for me. He’d told me himself in the messages he’d been sending.
On the horizon, a few clouds were rolling in, sliding over the ruddy sky. Tonight, I’d been left to stew in my own worries. The other knights had left to fight an impending vampire threat, and silence hung over the ancient castle.
But despite the quiet, my pulse was racing. My time here was nearly up, and tension coiled my body. If I looked out to the right, I had a view of the seawall, and the churning sea crashing against it. If I were a powerful sorcerer like the Merrow, I could bring down the sea on Salem…
A flicker of movement caught my eye, and my pulse kicked up a notch. I stared at the raven fluttering toward my window. Another message from Salem. I already knew what the paper it carried would say.
Even so, as the raven opened its beak and dropped the scrap onto the windowsill, my heart skipped a beat.
I picked it up and unfurled it, my mouth going dry. It simply read: I’m coming for you soon—signed by Salem in an elegant, looping script.
This was the second note Salem had sent me. A message straight from hell. Long fingers of dread crept over my heart like afternoon shadows.
Salem didn’t tell me when he was coming, or what he wanted with me. He just wanted the fear to grow in my chest like a seed, the roots of panic to twine around my ribs. He was, to his credit, doing a decent job of freaking me out.
I gripped the windowsill, staring out at Acre. Looking for him.
Fine. Come and get me, you monster. Because I’m going to find a way to kill you for good.
With my jaw set tight, I shoved Salem’s note into my pocket, scanning the streets below. Would he send henchmen for me, or would he come on his own? Maybe I wouldn’t see a single sign before he rolled in. I’d just hear the dreadful sound of his rhythmic, booming magic, and it would all be over.
Damn. If he wanted to screw with my head, he was doing a fine job. I pulled a packet of gum out of my skirt pocket and popped a piece in my mouth. Wintergreen usually calmed my nerves.
I took a deep breath, focusing on the mint and the sea breeze. Right now, the silence in the castle hung heavy.
I hummed to myself—“Suspicious Minds.” Elvis would keep me sane. I needed noise. Music. Distractions. I leaned down on the windowsill, gazing out at the ancient city, and sang to myself.
As I stared at the city streets, I was startled to see a lick of fiery magic piercing the twilight.
Salem? He was the fiery type.
Flames seemed to follow him wherever he went, and he smelled of smoke. And then there were his eyes… His eyes looked like a twilight sky over a burning city. So what was this moving flame in the city?
My muscles tensed, and I strained my eyes to get a better look. On the raised street that curved along the oceanside, a magical creature stalked. Ghostly flames snaked from his body. Just like I’d seen with Salem.
But apart from that, the creature didn’t look a thing like my worst enemy. While Salem was beautiful and elegant, this thing had a gnarled body and loping gait. Like an animal. A demon, maybe? I had to get a closer look.
It took me a few minutes to realize he was following someone—a woman wearing headphones. She didn’t seem to notice the monster behind her. As he walked, the trees lining the street seemed to decay, leaves browning and withering to black. The scent of smoke tinged the air, his fingertips blazing.
Hells. Was this one of Salem’s henchmen?
But he didn’t seem like he was coming for me. Instead, he seemed intent on the woman ahead of him, closing the gap between them. I waited for one of the humans by the seawall to warn her. Oddly, none of them seemed to notice.
I glanced at the horizon, where storm clouds had gathered in the darkening sky. Thunder rumbled. In the next few moments, heavy rain started to fall.
When I glanced back at the fiery creature, I saw that rain had doused some of the flames over his fingertips. Curls of dark smoke coiled into the air from his body. But within moments, the flames were back, his fingertips burning like flesh candles.
“Hey!” I cupped my hands to shout at the woman. “There’s a demon behind you! Demon!”
My voice floated helplessly away on the sea breeze. It was lost in the sound of the crashing waves and the traffic.
Gods damn it.
My jaw tightened. I supposed the demon wasn’t going to kill itself, was it?
I didn’t particularly want to leave the fortress walls, but I wasn’t going to stand here doing nothing while a woman burned to death. I snatched a cloak off the bed—moss green—and draped it over my shoulders.
Then I grabbed a sword and a sheath, slinging them around my waist. It had been a long time since I’d used a sword, but I’d been trained once.
Now armed, I rushed through the hall, hoping I could get to the woman before anything terrible happened.
And if I was very good at my task, maybe I could even get the creature to tell me what he was.
On the lowest level, it took a few minutes for the fortress’s heavy gate to open, then I rushed out into the courtyard. With the storm overhead, shadows absorbed the walls around me.
The sound of a woman’s screaming told me I needed to run faster, and I broke into a sprint, rushing through the castle’s outer gate. Rain dampened my cloak, wetting my cheeks.
But—bizarrely—as I ran, the air started to heat. Around me, it was growing warmer, drier. Now, it was almost like the rain was evaporating in the air around me.
If it was raining, why did it feel dry as a bone out here?
Suddenly, the rainstorm had turned into desert air, the heat scratching my throat. When I rounded the corner toward the seawall, I caught sight of the woman. My pulse raced out of control.
Something had scalded her skin. Red magic beamed around her, warming the air. My throat was parched, rough as sand. So dry…
Heat blazed beneath my feet, like I was standing on the surface of the sun. For a second, I just stared, trying to figure out what I was seeing.
Then the creature swiped for the woman. When his flaming fingertips struck her sweatshirt, her clothes ignited.
Okay. Time to act.
I ran toward the woman and pulled off my cloa
k, wrapping it around her to douse the flames.
I whirled to find the demon staring at me, and I unsheathed my sword. Within seconds, the tip of my blade was at his throat. He stared at me like he wasn’t scared. Like he’d already seen something worse than death.
My stomach tightened. This thing was drying, burning the air. Turning everything to dust, sucking up the very rain around us.
And this close, I could see he wasn’t a demon. He was a bestial fae, old as the rocks. Muscles gnarled his body like an old oak. When he smiled at me, he exposed a row of rotten teeth, and his eyes flickered with pale flames. He had the earthy, mossy scent of a fae, and the delicately pointed ears, too.
What was he? He was nothing I’d ever seen before. Old and warped.
Heat radiated from his body, singeing the air and parching my mouth. I tried to swallow, but it felt like glass in my throat.
I pressed the blade closer, ready to take off his head.
But first, I wanted some answers. “Did Salem send you?”
“Salem…” he rasped, his grin broadening. “Salem… the evening star… the fallen king of Mag Mell…”
“Ah. You’re acquainted.”
“He will set us free…”
I knew it. “Do you work for him?”
“We… are…” He spoke in a choked tone, eyes wide. The sound of his voice sent chills up my neck. “We are… the oldest ones. We are… the buried ones. You made us… suffer. We will punish…”
He reached for me, and red, heated air blazed from his fingertips like claws. Then his face contorted with rage.
I swung for him, the blade carving through his neck. It only took a moment, and his head rolled across the pavement, flames snuffing out.
I stared as his corpse shimmered away like a desert mirage. Then—all at once—the air cooled, and the rain started falling again. It felt like a balm cooling my hot skin. The blood had already turned to dust on my sword.
I sheathed the sword. What was this creature? He’d said Salem would set him free, but that was all I knew. His whole presence was anathema to me—drought and fire. Water was life. This thing was death.
I glanced at the trees, their leaves blackened and shriveled. Then I stared stupidly down at the pavement, ignoring the humans bustling around me. I barely registered the sound of the sirens wailing as I stared at the ground where the creature had once been.
The way he’d heated the air, wilted the plants… Was this part of Salem’s army? Gods have mercy, I could only hope there weren’t more of these things coming.
I sheathed my sword again, slipping back into the shadows. Police lights flickered around me. Already humans were bustling around the injured woman, helping her sit up.
Since I wasn’t actually a knight, I didn’t want to be here when officials started asking awkward questions. Like who are you, and what are you doing with that blood-soaked sword?
I walked quickly back to the castle, eager to get within its magical protections again before an army of these fire fae showed up—with Salem leading the charge.
2
Salem
I sniffed the air, smelling smoke. Flames seemed to follow me wherever I went.
I pulled out my alligator-skin flask and took a sip of brandy, letting the sweet flavor roll over my tongue.
I’d been in Jerusalem when the Romans burned it, then again when the crusaders arrived and seared their way through the city, leaving charred bodies in the streets.
Around me, shops selling religious trinkets crammed the narrow street. I stopped to look at one of the displays—a table cluttered with pictures of saints, glittering crystal beads, and the image humans so loved of a man being tortured to death on a cross. For some reason, that brought them comfort.
I leaned over, my eyes on a ceramic figurine of a saint. He held birds in his hands.
The crusaders had come cursing my name, promising to vanquish me. Enemies of Lucifer.
I didn’t like that name anymore. Lucifer. It meant light-bringer, and I was nearly out of light.
Instead, I’d given the name Lightbringer to my sword—a blade as ancient as the fall itself, hewn from the stars.
I flicked the saint over, and he sent the figurines behind him tumbling.
As I slipped into the crowd again, I ran my fingertip over my sword’s iron hilt. If I pulled it from its sheath, celestial flames would dance down the steel. The real Lightbringer. Not me.
In any case, not a single crusader found me on their pilgrimages. They’d left mountains of bodies behind, one faction fighting another. Frankly, I couldn’t tell these human tribes apart. They all seemed the same. Angry about books, their stories written in fire and blood.
At least their holy flames had kept me warm, and that was all I needed to know.
I slid through the crowds like smoke. No one seemed to see me unless I wanted them to.
My fingers were on the hilt of my sword again, an old habit.
I’d be sending for Aenor soon, compelling her to come to me. Her impending arrival was stirring something dark in me. I had a feeling she’d awaken some of my most primitive impulses when she was in my complete control. And maybe I liked that thought.
Was that… excitement I felt?
As the narrow market street opened, I glanced up at the sky. My gaze landed on a plume of dark smoke curling above the buildings of the narrow streets. Maybe I’d suppressed the real beast in me, but I couldn’t help but move closer to the sound of pain.
Flames and suffering drew me closer, like a magpie to a jewel.
On a narrow road, wedged between shops, a home burned. From the window, a young auburn-haired woman screamed. Something about her stairs being on fire. Gods, the drama of some people.
I breathed in the scent of smoke, filling my lungs. The woman’s shrieks brought a little smile to my lips.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I opened my eyes again, my gaze flicking to her wooden door. I prowled closer to it, pressing a palm against the wood, letting heat surge from my hand. The door ignited, then crumbled to ash.
Fight fire with fire.
As I crossed inside, the smoke curled around me in a wispy embrace. Inside, the building was an inferno. Good thing flames didn’t hurt me.
The sound of drums pounded in my blood, a dark and steady beat.
Drums, to drown out the screams of the dying…
The wooden banisters were on fire, and flames lined the edges of the stairs. Soon they’d be ash.
I moved up them quickly, drawn to the sound of shrieking. Screams pierced the air—no drums to drown them out here.
The woman sat on the floor now, soot smudging her white dress and her cheeks. Sweat trickled down her temples.
The fear in her eyes heated something in me. Something from the bad old days… Just a flicker of emotion that sparked and died again.
Perhaps I wanted to see her burn before me. A sacrifice.
Was it pleasure I felt? I wasn’t sure, but it was a relief to feel something again, even for a moment.
But instead of watching her burn, something compelled me to cross to her, the floor creaking as I did. In minutes, it could collapse, and she’d be dead.
She reached up for me, arms straining like a child’s.
I scooped her up. “I’ll bring you down,” I said quietly. “Stay calm.”
It wasn’t a shock that the woman refused to stay calm. Humans rarely did when you asked them to, and often worked against their own best interests.
Instead, she screamed, her nails digging into me, and I carried her down the stairs, shifting her body carefully to avoid catching her clothing in the flames. She began coughing uncontrollably, then buried her face into my chest. She coughed into my sweater. She was in complete hysterics, though I supposed oxygen deprivation did that to a human body. Frail little things.
As I reached the bottom, I heard the wood groan as the stairs tumbled to the floor behind me. Crossing outside, I breathed in the clear air. I tried to pu
t the woman down, but she clung to my neck, her grip like iron. She was still coughing into my chest, about to be sick. I held on to her, no longer as interested in the creature as when she’d been near death. Now she just seemed an irritation.
After a few minutes, her coughing slowed, and I was able to shift her down to stand on the pavement. Still, she gripped onto my mohair sweater.
Soot smudged one of her cheeks, and her green eyes streamed from the smoke. She stared up at me, her mouth slightly open.
“You saved my life.” She breathed in deeply, her chest rising and falling. She’d nearly died, and already desire shone in her eyes. But those two things went together, didn’t they? Death and lust. “I don't know how to thank you.”
Once, her beauty would have sparked something in me, but those days were long gone. Her terror had been a burning ember in my chest, but her desire did nothing for me. I hadn’t felt anything in eons. Hadn’t dreamt at night. Hadn’t desired a woman. Nothing but dead ashes inside.
I pulled my hands from her grasp. “Then it's fortunate I’d rather you didn’t thank me.”
I turned to walk away from her, following the winding street back to my house.
That had been an interesting diversion, but already, my mind was turning back to the blue-haired morgen.
The beautiful, dethroned princess.
I’d be returning her magic to her. Was it stupid to give her so much power? Perhaps, but she wouldn’t keep it long. As soon as she finished what I wanted of her, I’d kill her.
Fallen King (Court of the Sea Fae Trilogy Book 2) Page 1