The Crown of Bones (The Fae War Chronicles Book 2)

by Jocelyn Fox

  A wave of frigid water splashed over me and I jerked awake with a startled gasp.

  “If you go to sleep now, pretty little morsel, you will not wake up and your flesh will become even colder,” said a sinuous, sensual voice.

  Still struggling against the siren call of sleep, I pushed myself up onto my elbows. An ethereally beautiful woman regarded me from the frigid river, her arms draped languidly over a large rock by the water’s edge. Her flesh was alabaster pale, tinged blue and delicate green in places, glimmering with a frost-like sheen when she moved. There were strands of pearls and water-flowers woven through her deep purple hair, and her eyes were some color between black and blue, fathomless as the drowning depths of the ocean. She cocked her head to one side, watching me with the same hungry expression that a cat watches a bird in a cage.

  The expression on her face was enough for me to push myself back from the edge of the water a little farther, coughing at the exertion. The woman pursed her lips and raised one eyebrow.

  “The river is in your lungs,” she said.

  “Maybe,” I rasped, “but I’ll take my chances with a cold.”

  The beautiful woman smiled, keeping her lips together. “You think I mean you harm, little morsel?”

  “Considering the fact that you keep referring to me as a snack, yes,” I said, coughing again. Without taking my eyes from the woman, I tried to work at the rope wrapped around my wrist.

  “Oh, but there are still tastier morsels still in the water,” the woman said.

  Somehow my numb hand had found a way to grip my long dagger, and it was out, pointed at the woman.

  “So they are your companions, then?” The woman tilted her head to one side again, her almond-shaped eyes considering me.

  “If you hurt them…”

  “Come now, my sweet. You are half frozen, and you would be dead if I had not woken you,” she said admonishingly. “And besides, how would I hurt them since I am here talking to you, eh?”

  The tip of my dagger shook with my renewed shivers, wavering from its target. At least that was a good sign, I thought disjointedly. The shivering, not the…not being able to keep my dagger on target. I blinked, trying to collect my thoughts, and reached tentatively into the spot behind my breastbone, and to my amazement I reached my taebramh. Maybe my anger at her suggestion of hurting Luca and Finnead had helped. I kept the dagger pointed at the woman and used a large rock as support, dragging myself up onto my good leg. There was something in the water behind the woman. I blinked, but it was still there.

  “But,” the woman continued, watching me struggle to stand impassively, “I cannot say the same for my sisters.”

  “If they hurt them…” I trailed off as the woman shifted.

  “You know,” she said, “it is rude to stare.”

  From the waist down, the woman’s body was encased in glimmering scales. She didn’t have legs. She had a tail.

  I was looking at a real, live mermaid.

  The woman raised her tail out of the water and waved it lazily, water flowing down it sensuously. “I could help you.”

  “How?” I rasped suspiciously.

  She paused as if listening. “One of my sisters is watching your two men. The one that is still awake, he has the rope but there is nothing to tie it on, and they are fast approaching the Glass Falls.”

  I pushed myself into a full standing position, head swimming, and tested my wounded leg. A lance of pain shot through it but it held under my weight. I limped forward, picking up speed until I was hobbling as fast as I dared down the narrow bank, navigating through the rocks.

  “You’ll never reach them in time,” the mermaid called out behind me. “Your golden one, he is losing strength fast. He has fought the river longer than any man we have seen for a long while.” She pushed away from the rock. Her torso was bare, and beautiful. I felt a blush burn in my cheeks.

  The mermaid slid into the water and kept pace with my stunted gait.

  “And the dark one, he will stop breathing soon,” she continued conversationally. “The golden-haired one has just slipped below the water again…ah, he has fought to the surface but he is having trouble keeping the other above too.”

  I gave a growl of frustration and helpless anger. “Why are you telling me this?”

  The mermaid looked at me serenely, the Darinwel rushing furiously around her alabaster shoulders. “Because you have a choice.” Her eyes gleamed. “We could help you.”

  “For what price?” I demanded, trying to suppress a cough and failing.

  “Does the price matter?” She raised one eyebrow. “They will both die if you do not accept our offer.”

  In my bones I knew it was true.

  “They will go over the falls in a minute’s time. Be quick in your considerations.”

  I reached for the Sword, but it was silent. I was on my own. My chest felt as though I had been run through with a hot blade, and it wasn’t from the cold water. It was from the thought of losing Luca and Finnead, adding the grief of losing them to the hot pain of Kaleth and Kavoryk’s deaths.

  “All three of us leave alive and whole,” I said, swallowing past the metallic taste in my mouth.

  “Of course. You shall be treated as honored guests,” replied the mermaid, sliding through the water sinuously.

  “And we leave when we wish,” I added.

  “Negotiating when there is such short time is perhaps not wise, but you are spirited,” said the mermaid appreciatively. She raised one dripping hand from the water. “I swear on my sisters’ lives that all three of you shall leave alive and whole at a time of your choosing.” Leveling her fathomless gaze at me, she said, “Now choose, before it is too late.”

  I swallowed. “Fine. Save them.”

  “My sisters will save them. I will take you to them.” She extended her hand to me, swimming close to shore. “The cold will not touch you when you are with me.”

  Though every instinct screamed at me not to step into the frigid water again, I stepped forward, sheathing my dagger.

  “You trust me now?” the mermaid asked.

  “No,” I said, up to my knees now in water, the cold biting into my skin again.

  “Smart little morsel,” said the mermaid, unoffended. “You might want to take a breath before taking my hand.” She grinned at my hesitation. Her teeth were wickedly pointed and there were at least two rows of them. It was like staring into the mouth of a shark.

  I thought of Finnead and Luca. I took a deep breath and placed my hand into the mermaid’s. Her skin was smooth and cold. She pulled me down into the water and flipped her tail and we were racing under the river, weaving through the rocks, the mermaid keeping me close to her side with one arm wrapped around my chest. She’d told me truly that the cold wouldn’t affect me, but I had to focus on holding my breath. The mermaid swam with fluid grace, her huge tail propelling us through the water smoothly, her blue-black eyes focused on the underwater landscape. I struggled to keep my eyes open but after a moment the rushing water forced me to close them. I clenched my jaw as my chest started to ache. Despite the twinge of warning in my stomach at her predatory smile, my hand closed over the mermaid’s arm, as though gripping her would anchor me against the rising tide within me, the need for air crashing through my body.

  “A bit farther, my sweet,” she said into my ear, her voice still somehow clear even in the rush of the water, and I felt her hand stroke my hair.

  Colored stars burst behind my eyelids. I fought against the compulsion to draw in a breath, my fingers digging harder into the mermaid’s arm. I was either going to pass out or give in to the all-consuming, raw need to take a breath. I opened my mouth and my eyes and watched my breath leave in a lacy string of bubbles, and just as water flooded past my lips the mermaid pulled me upward and we burst through the surface. I exploded in a fit of convulsive coughing, but she paid me no mind, merely keeping me tight to her side as she cut hard against the current, swimming perpendicular to the migh
ty river—not exactly with ease, I noticed between my bone-wracking coughs and wrenching gasps. Then I blinked water out of my eyes as we rounded a large rock. On the other side of the rock was a sheltered little pool, its bank gravelly and grey but protected from the raging currents of the Darinwel.

  “Stay away from him!”

  Luca’s voice was ragged, his breathing harsh, but there was that same determination in his voice.

  Something blurred by me with a hiss and a splash. Another mermaid surfaced behind us, her pale green hair a nimbus about her shoulders. She held up a long-fingered, webbed hand and licked the blood from a shallow cut on her arm, tongue flickering between her rows of jagged teeth. “Such pretty boys,” she breathed, blood smearing her lips.

  The knot in my stomach twisted again. I craned my head and as we came further around the rock into the shallow pool, I saw Luca on his knees next to an unmoving form. Luca’s dagger was stained with greenish blood. My boots touched bottom and the mermaid released me as I struggled forward. One of her hands squeezed my hip and then caressed lower parts of me before sending me off with a pat on the rear and a sensuous chuckle. I didn’t even spare the energy to shoot her an affronted look. “Luca!”

  Relief spread across his face like the sun breaking through clouds. “Tess! Thank the gods.”

  “Tess,” murmured my mermaid behind me. “Such a pretty little name for a pretty little morsel.” She sank low in the water until only her almond-shaped eyes were visible, gazing out from her writhing mass of hair.

  I ignored her and splashed through the shallows, limping now that some feeling had returned to my injured leg.

  “They just pulled us out,” Luca said, brandishing his dagger at two more mermaids observing us stealthily by the huge rock.

  “Where are Forin and Farin?” I asked as I struggled toward them. Toward the unmoving form that I knew was Finnead.

  “Here,” one of the twins said. In my exhaustion I wasn’t sure which one.

  The mermaids were immediately captivated by the glows. “Even littler, even prettier morsels,” breathed one by the rock.

  “We tried to tie the rope but it was not long enough,” Forin explained.

  “We tried,” repeated Farin.

  “I know you did,” I said, reaching completely dry land and resisting the urge to drop to my knees right there.

  “I do not know whether he is alive,” Luca said bluntly as I limped toward them. He held his dagger shakily in his left hand, and the bandages on his right hand had come unraveled. His blue eyes half-closed in exhaustion.

  “Keep an eye on the mermaids,” I said, breathing hard. “Forin and Farin, if you could, please go tell everyone else where we are.” I was careful not to name any names, lest the mermaids get any ideas.

  Forin bowed and hovered while Farin dipped lower. “Tess-mortal—” she began, but Luca gave a hoarse snarl, sounding more wolf than man, and launched himself at her. For a split second I was confused but then I saw the mermaid arcing out of the water like a dolphin, her hand extended like a claw toward Farin, a hungry gleam in her mesmerized eyes. Luca collided squarely with the mermaid and tackled her into the shallows. She shrieked in indignation and Farin, her wings quivering, shot higher.

  “Go!” I said to them, and the Glasidhe flew out of danger’s reach. I stumbled over to Finnead, dropped to my knees and after a split-second’s hesitation, touched his shoulder, rolling him onto his back. Vaguely in the background I heard splashing, and a strange sound from Luca.

  I stared at Finnead’s pale face. His lips were blue, his eyelashes stark coal lines against the whiteness of his skin, his hair plastered to his forehead in wet whorls. Dark blood stained his shoulder. “Finnead,” I whispered. “Please, please…please don’t be dead…” I pressed two fingers against the side of his neck and held my other hand over his mouth. His skin was so cold. The Sword stirred on my back just as I felt a weak flutter under my fingers at his neck. My own heart jumped with hope, even as I wanted to scream at the Sword for leaving me on my own, for letting me make a deal with the fierce jagged-toothed mermaid for Luca and Finnead’s lives. I leaned over Finnead and tilted his head back, ready to breathe for him, but the Sword stopped me with a firm wave of power.

  No, the Caedbranr said in my mind, clear as a bell.

  You just want me to let him die? I demanded frantically.

  Yes, it replied.

  I made a strangled sound of anger and disbelief.

  She will release her hold on him, the Sword explained stoically.

  After a quick moment I realized what the Caedbranr meant. “Mab. You mean Mab will release her hold on him if I let his heart stop.” Fear rose up in my throat. Fear for Finnead. Fear of the grief that would tear me in two if I couldn’t bring him back.

  Yes. She will not follow him. She must release him if she wishes to remain in this realm.

  “This is crazy,” I whispered, but it did make sense. If Mab was bound to Finnead by blood-magic, if she was using her bond to drain the very life from him…she couldn’t very well drain anything from him if she were dead. But I wasn’t sure I had the strength to bring him back. My hands were already shaking, my whole body wet and exhausted. I stared down at my pale trembling hands and tried to believe that they could pump life back into Finnead.

  Not the way you have learned, the Caedbranr said. You will bring him back. You will baptize him in fire.

  The Sword wasn’t going to help me. It was still withholding its power from me, untouchable beneath its iron grip. It suddenly seemed harder to breathe. A shadow passed over the river, darkening the waters. I saw at least one of the mermaids slip beneath the water in a gleaming flash of pale skin and silver. Luca—where was Luca? A cold wind slid over us, reminiscent of Mab’s frosty touch. The sapphire in the pommel of the Brighbranr pulsed slowly once, twice and then went dark. From the darkened sky overhead a clap of thunder echoed, and rain began to fall in large cold drops.

  Perhaps Mab was not so cold-hearted after all, I thought briefly as the skies opened, rain cascading over us like a curtain. I pressed my fingers against Finnead’s neck and tried not to panic as I felt nothing. Moving of their own accord—maybe the Sword told me what to do wordlessly, I couldn’t tell—my hands found my soaked belt-pouch, and the smooth stones that had once been the iron which had trapped us in the clearing. I took out four stones, placed them at the four points of the compass, and then knelt next to Finnead, water streaming down my face. My own hot tears mixed with the cold rain as I reached for my power and felt a warm pulse of taebramh…but I knew in my bones that it wasn’t enough. Desperately I felt for the Sword but it held its silence, nothing more than a weapon in a battered sheath on my back.

  “I can’t do it alone,” I said, voice breaking, as I knelt by Finnead’s body in the cold rain, each moment pushing him farther away from me, toward an unreachable shore. I felt a raw edge of emotion—maybe hysteria, maybe grief—fraying the corners of my mind. “Please,” I said, louder, beseeching. I gripped Gwyneth’s pendant hard, feeling the metal bite into my hand. The rain pounded down around me, washing over the rocks and streaming in miniature rivers over the gravel of the grey riverbank. My shivering returned in full force, wracking my body with tremors. I looked down at Finnead’s pale, still face. Rain streamed over his half-parted lips. I brushed his soaked hair from his forehead with one hand and then pushed myself to my feet.

  My mermaid watched, her eyes barely above the water, her hair curling and twining like a living thing through the water.

  I reached again for my taebramh, and found it flickering. The Sword was a blank stone wall in my mind. I clenched my fists. “You have power?” I asked the mermaid, my voice punctured by the silver rain.

  The mermaid disappeared for a moment and then slid from the water in a sinuous wave. Her tail supported her as she slithered across the gravel, her slim hands extended slightly for balance. I held my ground and didn’t flinch as she made her sensuous way toward me in all her bare-c
hested alabaster beauty.

  “Of course I have power, my morsel,” she replied sibilantly. Her almond-shaped eyes flickered to Finnead. “You want to bring him back, yes?”

  I nodded wordlessly.

  “Would you trade?” She tilted her head consideringly.

  “Trade…?” I blinked. Then I realized she meant Luca and I stiffened. “Luca is his own man and not a dog for me to sell.”

  The mermaid bared her pointed teeth. “You mortals have such short memories. Not so long ago, women were sold and traded like cattle in your world.”

  “No.” I refused to linger on her words. Never mind how she knew about the mortal world.

  She slid closer, her movements whispering like silk against the rocks. “So you will not exchange your golden one but you wish to keep your dark one?”

  I gritted my teeth and didn’t answer. My taebramh flared and I felt the now-familiar prickle along my war-markings. The mermaid stopped and peered at me.

  “You have power of your own,” she murmured.

  “Not enough, I don’t think,” I said, my voice raspy. “Not after the battle and falling into the river.”

  The mermaid looked at me and looked at Finnead. “Honesty. You must care for him.” Then she turned her gaze back to me with a cat-like smile. “We could keep your golden one as price for pulling them from the river. Fair payment,” she purred, “for saving their lives.”

  I shook my head firmly despite the pit opening in my stomach. I was navigating through dangerous waters.