Fallen King (Court of the Sea Fae Trilogy Book 2)

by C. N. Crawford

  She motioned for me to follow her down the stairs.

  My breath dragged in my lungs as I whispered, “How did the Merrow end up imprisoned here?”

  “He tried to stop King Tethra. You know, when he sent his assassins after Salem and you.”

  My mind whirled. How were Tethra and Salem connected?

  Again I was struck by the feeling that I’d only scratched the surface in understanding my darling mate.

  36

  Aenor

  As we got to the bottom of the stairs, darkness enveloped us. My legs plunged into cold water, about a foot deep. It was at this point I realized with a growing sense of horror that I could no longer hear the Merrow’s music.

  The nymph snapped her fingers, and twinkling lights appeared above us. The light glimmered over dark water that streamed through a long corridor, pouring into the cells. The smell down here was overpowering, like rotten flesh and death. I wanted to vomit.

  Apart from the sound of flowing water, we found the dungeon eerily silent. As we crossed deeper inside, I scanned and searched for the Merrow in a cell. As I did, I glimpsed the pitiful fae creatures who languished in their cells, crammed together, many of them ancient-looking, emaciated. The music of their magic was hardly audible.

  From the far side of the corridor, the moat ran into the dungeon, flowing through a hole in the wall. Water filled the bottoms of the cells at least a foot deep.

  Gods, it was awful here. Some of the fae were tied with their hands behind their backs. Others were tied to wooden posts that jutted from the stone ground, bodies limp, looking half-dead, skeletal.

  But worst of all, I found not a single sign of Salem, nor could I hear his magic. Lyria swore as she led me to the end of the corridor. There, one cell door stood open in the water.

  And as we peered inside, we found no one.

  Lyria thrust her fingers into her silver hair, looking like she was about to pull it out. “He’s taken him. And if the king catches us here, will both die.”

  “What are King Tethra’s plans? I don’t understand. What do Salem and this king have to do with each other? Are they working together? I need some answers.”

  She chewed a fingernail. “Tethra and Salem? They can’t stand each other. King Tethra usurped Salem’s throne eons ago. Took this whole kingdom from him after he was banished. But he let the kingdom languish, and it’s in ruins now. King Tethra thought he could grow stronger and build the kingdom’s strength by making himself stronger. He was taking quicksilver supplements prescribed by fae doctors.”

  I blinked. “Mercury? He was drinking mercury? It causes brain damage.”

  “Yeah, so the king basically has holes in his brain now. He’s obsessed with raising the Fomorian army to take over the world. And one of his advisors told him how to do it. He said to send a message to Salem. You know the whole legend.”

  “Nope. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

  “The Fomorians once lived in this kingdom. The first king of Mag Mell defeated them, and drove them all down to the center of the earth. Once, they were normal fae, like us. But under the earth’s surface, they grew twisted. Fiery. And now they want revenge. King Tethra thinks he can raise them and control them. But no one can control them.”

  “Okay. And get to the part where Salem is involved.”

  “The legend was that only a god’s magic could keep the earth sealed, keep the Fomorians trapped in its core. Every now and then, one of the Fomorians would slip out, start burning things. Lighting cities on fire. The Great Fire of London? That was a Fomorian. So the Merrow found a way to seal it up again, at least for a while. You helped him, remember? Shahar’s magic was enough to seal them inside. Without it, everyone would have turned to dust.”

  And that was what awaited us now. “Go on.”

  “But her magic is weakening, and it’s not working as well now. And then the rumors started spreading. Destroy the driftwood cage, and the Fomorians will rise. Tethra is trying to make it happen.”

  “So Tethra was using Salem?”

  She nodded. “He knew Salem would stop at nothing to get to Shahar, so he sent out a message. He let him know that Shahar was still alive, that she needed saving. Everyone knows Salem doesn’t care if the world burns. So King Tethra just had to sit back and let Salem find the cage for him.”

  “If the king had the Merrow here, why didn’t he torture the answer out of him?”

  She shrugged. “He didn’t know the Merrow could help him. That was a deeply buried secret.”

  I took a shaking breath. “How long?” I asked, dread creeping up my throat. “How long would it take for the Fomorians to break free once the driftwood cage is gone?”

  She shook her head. “No one knows exactly. A few weeks? I have no idea.”

  All this news was like a fist to my throat.

  Shahar never deserved her fate. She’d never intended to burn anything, and we’d simply used her for her magic. For all his talk of burning, that wasn’t part of Salem’s plan, either. It was just a consequence of his sister’s freedom.

  And yet—until something else was in place, the world needed her where she was. Or none of this would exist.

  In any case, I wasn’t about to waste any more time hashing out the details or the ethics. I had to get to Salem.

  My magic crashed through my body. “Okay. They’ll be heading for the sea. And once they plunge into the water, I can hunt them.”

  Once more, the river was carrying us in a rush of frothy, sparkling water. With the help of the gods, the river’s direction had changed course entirely. Now, we were heading for the coast, for the wide sea.

  As the river carried me, I was no longer sure if Lyria was with me. But it didn’t matter. I didn’t need her anymore. Here, in the water, I could already hear the Merrow’s song again—still clear and distinct through the waves.

  At last, the river opened up to the sea, not far from the dock where I’d arrived. I moved like a torpedo through the depths.

  My magic propelled me through the sea, a storm of speed following after the sound of the music.

  My heart was a wild beast. If Salem had taken the Merrow down from the sky, plunging into the water, that meant they’d found the right location. And it was almost too late…

  I rushed forward, driven by desperation. Deeper and deeper into the water.

  In the distance, I could see her—a beaming star in the dark depths, like something from a dream. Her magic streamed around her in pearly rays of light. I rushed for her.

  But when the Merrow’s music went silent, panic slammed into me.

  The Merrow was dead.

  Salem had killed him, and he’d already found Shahar.

  37

  Salem

  Just above the water, I released the ancient sorcerer’s corpse—his head severed from his body by my hands. Maybe I couldn’t kill Aenor for drowning Shahar, but it brought me great delight to rip the Merrow in two, after ripping the answers out of him.

  I let my wings fade away and dove into the sea. The sorcerer’s blood spilled through the water, staining it with black. But my eyes were on the driftwood cage, the water around it glowing bright. It was that perfect, silvery hue I recognized as my sister’s.

  The idea that my mate had done this to my sister was a cruel twist of fate I didn’t want to contemplate any longer.

  My anger was cold and clear as the light around the cage. What state would Shahar be in now, after all these years? Clearly, she was still alive, her magic beaming from her body, still radiating through the sea. But she must’ve lost her mind down here. No one could survive this hell with their senses intact.

  By the time I reached her, I felt a sharp stabbing in my chest. I could hardly see her through the blazing starlight around her cage. Slowly, my eyes adjusted through the rays of unearthly beauty, and I saw a slumped, emaciated form in the cage. Like a living skeleton.

  My heart stopped, and wrath flooded me. I wished I’d killed the M
errow slower. Gods, Aenor did this.

  Now, to get Shahar out.

  I pulled Lightbringer from her sheath, and holy fire flared along her blade.

  A lock gleamed on the front of the driftwood cage. Golden magic glimmered around it. But Lightbringer could carve through anything.

  Shahar’s stolen power blazed over me, resplendent in the waves. It melded with my own until I almost felt like a god again.

  Through the water, I could hear someone screaming my name, and I froze.

  The sea dulled and muted the screaming, but I could still hear it. Aenor’s voice.

  I whirled in the water and caught a glimpse of her coming for me. That infernal sea glass gleamed in her hand, destined for my heart. When she’d said that it was only the wine, that she felt nothing for me, I’d felt something crack in my chest. And here she was, coming for my life.

  She’d actually do it, wouldn’t she? If she had to, my own mate would carve my heart out rather than allow me to save Shahar. It felt as if she were sticking that shard into my heart now, carving it out.

  I was a creature entirely unlovable—even when nature should compel my mate to love me. Shahar was the one who’d loved me, and only her.

  I stared at Aenor. Would she return to Lyr when she’d finished with me? The thought of that made me want to turn the world into a blazing inferno. Join my hell with me, all of you…

  And there she was—still managing to turn my thoughts away from my true task.

  Only a few minutes left before Aenor would be upon me, jamming sea glass into my aorta. I turned back to my slumped sister.

  I swung my sword through the water, lightning fast. The blade sliced cleanly through the lock, and the cage door creaked open. Instantly, Shahar’s magic snapped back inside her frail body. Her back arched, arms flung back, face grimacing.

  With my heart thundering, I yanked the door open the rest of the way.

  My stomach turned at her state. She was obviously agonized. I reached into the cage to grab her around her protruding ribs. A thin layer of flesh covered her bones, nothing more. As gently as I could, I lifted her out of the cage, her body rigid as bone, gleaming with her magic.

  I glanced through the water at Aenor.

  She wasn’t far from us now. I clutched Shahar tighter. Once I got to the surface, I’d be able to fly from here, to help my sister heal completely.

  As I swam, I watched Shahar’s eyes snap open. Under the water, she started to scream, sucking in water. Eyes wide with fear, arms flailing, she had the wild stare of a madwoman, no longer herself. Her silver hair, once lustrous, had become gnarled and untamed. It fell into her eyes in ragged hanks. I wrapped my arms around her, trying to calm her beneath the waves so she’d stop sucking in water. I kicked my legs, hurrying her to the surface.

  In the distance, I caught a glimpse of Aenor again, her blue hair bright in the murky water. Anger poisoned my heart at the sight of her.

  But her attention wasn’t on me. It was on the seafloor. I forced my attention away from her.

  Shahar needed me more. Shahar was barely alive.

  I held her tight, moving as fast as I could. When we reached the surface, my twin’s shrieking deafened me.

  But just as my mate had promised, I could feel the sea heating around me. Already it was getting hotter. It seemed her visions had been real.

  38

  Aenor

  Salem pulled his sister from the sea, and the waters heated around me.

  Hell was coming for us all.

  Already, a molten red fissure was opening in the seafloor—so narrow you could hardly see it. But I could feel it. The heat pulsed through the water, turning my skin pink.

  My magic slid through my body like nectar as I tried to cool the waters around me.

  But as I started moving for the fissures, a burst of magic pounded through the sea, slamming into me with the force of a torpedo. Propelled by a hot stream of water, I rushed toward the surface, unable to stop it. It forced me upward, heating my skin.

  The force of the blast sent me hurtling into the air, and I came down hard into the hot salt water. As my body hit the sea, I dropped the sea glass. I scrambled to get control again as the blast simmered down, and I conjured my cooling magic.

  When I looked up in the air, I saw him—the fallen angel with his broken sister in his arms. He was so far away that I could hardly see him—just a hint of twilight bathing his wings.

  The sight of him leaving felt like a blade between my ribs. I wondered if he realized he’d left me in a boiling sea. But why would I expect him to stay? He’d never pretended to be anything other than evil.

  Men are wolves… Unlike most, at least he admitted it. And that was basically what he had going for him.

  But I didn’t have time to stew in this. My darling mate had created hell on earth—again—and I had to fix it. If I didn’t, the world would begin turning to cinders, one tree at a time, one person at a time.

  Treading water, I surveyed my surroundings. I was swimming near a grassy, rocky island. The sight of it brushed at the edges of my memory, and it occurred to me that it must have been where I’d helped the Merrow. I’d stood there a century ago, drunk in the night, and we’d sunk the driftwood cage that had brought Salem into my life.

  Cold magic spilled from me, cooling the water around me. I peered under the surface again, trying to formulate a plan. Before I’d left Acre, Lyr had helped me memorize a spell—one that I could use to summon him if I needed him. And Lyr, with his World Key, could summon the other institutes, each with their own keys. We could have a small army here within minutes.

  Except—Lyr might show up with a collar to bind my magic. And without my magic, we could lose the battle against the Fomorians.

  I peered at the seafloor, sharpening my eyes to see through the murk. The explosion had forced the thin fissure open wider, and it now yawned as a red crack, nearly large enough for a person to fit through.

  I conjured a burst of my magic, and it rose up my spine, curling between my ribs. I filled my chest with the power of the sea and slid beneath the waves. Under the water, I exhaled breaths of streaming ice. Frozen currents spilled out around me, cooling the sea.

  I swam just a little deeper, my eyes on the widening crack. Maybe I could stop this now, somehow.

  Sea magic hummed along my limbs and spilled out from my body. The full force of my power shot through the ocean. The power electrified me, and I felt at one with the ancient sea. It was as if all sea life sighed in relief with my magic.

  And yet—that fissure in the seafloor was still opening wider. And as it did, the heat began roiling up toward me again.

  Shadows crawled over my heart at the sight of fingers gripping the edge of the fissure. Now, two hands were protruding from the molten red opening. The seafloor seemed to rumble.

  I heard the sound of croaking voices whispering around me, a chorus of them.

  We are… the oldest ones. We are… the buried ones. You made us… suffer. We will punish…

  I felt as if poison spilled through my blood at the sound of them. They spoke in unison, their voices legion…

  As the first Fomorian crawled through, I flung out my wrist to make a blade of ice. I could kill him, just like I’d killed the others.

  With the wild power of my magic racing through my mind, my thoughts were going a million miles a minute. The glowing red crevasse burned like the sun, and the Fomorians’ voices slithered over my skin.

  As I readied myself for battle with the first Fomorian, I caught sight of another one, crawling from the widening chasm.

  Then another, and another. Until half a dozen were crawling from the crevasse, heads sparking red in the gloom. They were fiery death embodied. My mind flickered with images of blackened fields and forests. Withered plants, cities of dust.

  Fear slid over my heart like shadows across the moon.

  I conjured the full force of my magic within my chest. Then I let it explode from me in a rush of p
ower. I watched as the Fomorians’ flames wavered, then snuffed out. My chest unclenched a little.

  Quiet and cool again.

  Except more of them were coming out now, the red crack widening in the ocean floor like a wicked smile. And within moments, the fire from their bodies was blazing again—rekindled.

  We are… the oldest ones…. the buried ones…

  The wild power of the sea roared in me, and I readied my sword to defend it.

  When they rushed for me, heads blazing, I sparked into action. Speed and fury raced through me, and I cut through one after another, whirling with the speed of a sea god beneath the waves.

  Their severed bodies drifted to the bottom of the sea. But that crack was opening wider, gleaming. The seafloor rumbled, and I could feel it coming. The whole godsdamn Fomorian army, about to burst forth, like demons from a womb.

  Even with my power, I couldn’t take on an entire army alone. They’d surround me, burn me, then move on to the rest of the world.

  My stomach sank.

  I needed warriors. An entire army of knights.

  Godsdamn it. I had to summon Lyr. I had to trust he’d at least fight the battle correctly, even if we had our differences.

  I turned to swim for the island. Rushing through the waves, I was heading for the shore with a speed that churned and frothed the waters around me.

  The windswept, rocky island protruded from the water. I’d been here a lifetime ago, committing a crime buried by time and water.

  I gasped in the heating air, trying to get my bearings as I rose from the sea. Barefoot, I stood on the warm rocks. Already, the seawater was evaporating from my skin, leaving a crusted layer of salt all over me. I sucked in a hot breath, my throat parched.

  If we didn’t stop them, they would blight every godsdamn tree and ignite every blade of grass.