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

by Jocelyn Fox

  “Forgive the liberty,” he said, a blush rising in his boyish cheeks, “but it just wouldn’t do to have you fall over the edge when you’ve just climbed up.”

  “The liberty is forgiven. Thanks.” A breathy laugh chased my words.

  “Can you see?”

  “Over the edge?” I swallowed hard. “Yes.”

  “No. I meant Luca and the Vaelanbrigh,” he said with a faint smile.

  I took a deep breath and edged forward, pebbles scraping against my boots. Merrick stayed right behind me. Not for the first time, I was grateful that I’d given him the chance to accompany us to the Seelie Court. Vell stood by the edge of the cliff, looking like a statue of Athena come to life, her bow in one hand. A tendril of dark hair escaped her intricate braid and framed her face as her golden eyes studied the river. Beryk padded to her side and she wound her fingers in his ruff without taking her gaze from the river. Then she tensed slightly, her grip on her bow tightening. A low growl emanated from the black wolf. “There,” she said.

  I followed the direction of her gaze and saw, very faintly, a thread of silver in the rushing river, traveling unnaturally against the current of the mighty Darinwel. Something large and strong, rushing through the water. Iciness flooded my stomach. “It’s the sirens.”

  “How many?” Vell asked, reaching over her shoulder for another arrow.

  “Two. There were three…but one drank my blood and agreed to let us go free. Her two sisters killed her, to break the blood promise.”

  “You let a siren drink your blood?” Merrick asked.

  “It was either that or…or choose between Finnead and Luca.” I cleared my throat, remembering the way that Finnead had looked at me while warning me about necromancy. “I couldn’t do that.”

  “So you used blood-magic.”

  “I suppose so,” I answered. I looked at Merrick over my shoulder. “I didn’t really have a choice.”

  “There’s always a choice,” he replied, raising his eyebrows slightly. “We could have chosen not to rescue Chael and Kianryk.”

  “And that would have made us little different than the monsters we are trying to fight,” I said firmly.

  “Both of you hush,” Vell ordered. She brought her bow up, arrow held against its length with two fingers as she flexed her right wrist in a few circles before nocking the arrow.

  A second silvery trail had appeared in the wake of the first. Both of the surviving sirens were rushing down the river. As I watched, one of them surfaced, her great silvery tail flashing as she leapt over the water.

  “There’s no way she can hit them from this far away,” Merrick murmured.

  “Says the navigator who has a magical map,” I replied.

  “Didn’t I tell both of you to hush?” growled Vell. She stepped to the very edge of the cliff, making my stomach clench, and drew the arrow back, its green fletching brushing her pale cheek. Gwyneth’s pendant stirred at my throat as a sharp cold wind suddenly gusted around us. Vell’s lips moved slightly as she whispered her Northern words, Beryk standing still as an obsidian statue by her side. She aimed the arrow, lean muscles flexing beneath her tunic, the bow singing sweetly as she released the green-fletched missile. A rush of wind followed the arrow, and then the air fell still again. I watched breathlessly as the arrow hurtled down into the gorge toward the river, straining my eyes as it became a splinter against the rushing waters of the Darinwel. Vell gazed down at the river and was finally rewarded by the faint echo of a furious shriek. “Like shooting fish in a barrel,” she said with a fierce glint in her eye. She turned to me. “Isn’t that the saying?”

  “Yes,” I managed. “There’s still the one though. And I don’t know…I don’t know whether an arrow would kill them.”

  “It will slow them down at the very least,” Vell replied grimly, nocking another arrow.

  “It might be best to save your arrows,” Merrick said.

  “For what? Another time when deadly sirens aren’t racing toward two of us?”

  “You can’t even be sure that your last one hit.”

  “It hit something, which is better than standing here doing nothing at all.” Vell’s golden eyes blazed. But she unslung her quiver and set her bow down, sliding to the edge of the cliff on her stomach.

  “Is it completely necessary to move like that so close to the edge?” I asked weakly. She gave me a withering look in reply and then peered down over the edge.

  “Luca is about halfway up,” she reported, and then her sharp eyes picked out the trail of the sirens. “It won’t be fast enough.”

  “Probably because I climbed so slowly,” I said disparagingly.

  “You climbed a cliff,” Merrick said, tugging on the back of my belt to get my attention. “I fail to see where it says that there’s a minimum speed requirement for that.”

  “When there are two giant blood-thirsty snake-women coming after you,” I replied.

  “Point taken. But Finnead has the Brighbranr—”

  “Those things nearly killed us,” I said hotly, voice breaking. “The three of us. That was with Luca and Finnead and me, all fighting them together. They’re both still hurt—” A wave of dizziness washed over me as my body reminded me of my own injury. Merrick quickly put his arm about my shoulder as I swayed slightly. I tried to shrug him off. “I’m fine.”

  “Tess,” said Vell firmly, sparing me a glance, “sit down before you fall down. Finnead is a Sidhe knight and Luca is an ulfdrengr. Sirens are deadly, but so are they.”

  I glared at Vell, helpless anger bubbling in my chest. “So we’re just going to stand here and wait for them to figure it out?”

  “What else would you have us do?” Vell demanded. Though she kept her gaze on me as she spoke, Beryk still looked at the distant river, his lips drawn back from his gleaming teeth in a snarl.

  I felt like growling myself. “I don’t know, but I hate—”

  “Being helpless?” she finished for me, her voice soft now. “Watching ones you care about in danger without being able to intervene?” She held my gaze with her own for a long moment and then turned back to the edge of the cliff. “Be grateful that at least Finnead and Luca can fight back.”

  The undercurrent of pain in Vell’s normally stoic voice stifled the argument ready on my tongue.

  “Sit,” Merrick said quietly to me.

  I shook my head. “I can’t. I’ll sit when they’re both safe.” Adrenaline from the climb still sped through my veins, making my muscles feel like live wires, quivering and electrified.

  “You’re shaking.”

  “From the climb,” I said in irritation.

  Merrick fell silent. I strained my eyes, trying to pick out again the silver thread through the water that marked the sirens’ trail. They traveled fast. Every heartbeat brought them closer to Finnead.

  “How far does Luca have to go?” I asked, my voice sounding far away to my own ears.

  “He’s almost to the last anchor point. Forin is untying the rope from the tree now….” Vell stiffened, eyes narrowing.

  “What?” I asked desperately, craning my neck. I couldn’t see down the cliff face without getting closer to the edge, but when I tried to edge forward, Merrick held me back with a firm arm about my shoulders. I scowled at him and he looked back at me calmly. “Vell!”

  A wolf howl split the air—very close, and definitely not Beryk. The black wolf pressed briefly against Vell’s leg and then turned, trotting past Merrick and me, disappearing into a small copse of trees just down the slope.

  “Kianryk and Chael?” I asked. “Shouldn’t someone be guarding them?”

  “I was. And then you were climbing the cliff,” replied Merrick simply.

  “I’m done climbing the cliff. Someone should be with them, after all they’ve been through.”

  “They’ve survived the worst and are in the hands of friends. There have been protective runes laid on the trees. They will be fine if they are without a sentinel for a few moments.”
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  I looked at Merrick sharply. “Protective runes? Who laid those?”

  “I did,” said Merrick. His lips twitched with a smile. “Try not to look so shocked, my Bearer.”

  A small sound—of fear?—escaped Vell.

  “The sirens?” I asked. The Sword stirred on my back, seeming agitated.

  “Finnead is climbing without a rope. He slipped,” she replied in a tight voice.

  “What?” My voice cracked and I scrambled forward, my wounded leg buckling and Merrick holding me in place with that annoyingly slick Sidhe grace. “By the stars, Merrick, let me go,” I snapped, “or I’ll elbow you in your family jewels!”

  Our young navigator gave a long-suffering sigh. “Please don’t fall over the cliff.”

  “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind,” I growled.

  Luca’s wolf howled again, counterpoint to the ringing in my ears and the roaring of the river.

  “Go to them,” I told Merrick. Vell silently held out an arm to me. I tried to glare at her even though my stomach was trying to crawl up my throat as I limped toward the edge of the cliff.

  “Don’t be a complete idiot,” Vell admonished me. I gave a wordless sound of frustration and let her grip my forearm firmly. “Down to a knee, then.” By stretching out my wounded leg to the side, I lowered myself to my good knee, within arm’s reach of the edge. Vell took a knee next to me. “And now down all the way.” Breathing hard, I slithered to the edge on my belly and peered down into the gorge. One of the twins rocketed past me—I couldn’t tell whether it was Forin or Farin at the speed they were going—trailing the rope behind them. I stiffened, thinking that Vell needed to go tie the rope to the boulder.

  “I’m staying right here,” she said

  I peered down the rock face again and saw Luca, his golden hair shining like a beacon amid the gray rocks. Blood stained the bandage on his hand. But he wasn’t climbing.

  “Why isn’t he climbing?” My heart hammered in my chest, fingertips tingling at the memory of the rough rock against my skin. All I could see was the brightness of Luca’s hair and the whiteness of his hands, his powerful shoulders broad against the rock face. He was looking down the cliff.

  Down at Finnead.

  The Vaelanbrigh was harder to pick out. He was still near the base of the cliff, barely halfway to the first anchor point, and his dark hair blended with the shadows pooling by the river.

  “The sirens,” I whispered. The white thread was now a foaming streak, the water lashed with two great silver tails.

  “Stay absolutely still,” Vell said. She disappeared from my side. It wasn’t hard for me to follow her instructions. I didn’t think I could have moved if I tried, transfixed by the peril rushing toward Finnead.

  “Finnead isn’t climbing fast enough,” I said. “Something’s wrong!”

  “I know,” Vell replied grimly from above me, carefully selecting an arrow from her quiver. One of the twins barreled past my shoulder, momentarily blinding me with their aura. The climbing rope now stretched from the boulder past my right side and down the cliff. Luca was close enough that I could see his face when he looked up. His lips formed words but I couldn’t understand them. I didn’t need to understand them. I saw what he meant to do in his eyes and the set of his jaw. A green-fletched arrow arced down into the gorge, spearing into the churning mass where the silver tails flashed. One of the tails disappeared in a sudden sharp movement and Vell gave a little snarl of triumph. I clutched at a clump of the sparse dry grass as Luca held himself to the cliff by one hand—his wounded hand, at that, because he needed his good hand to grasp his dagger. In one swift motion he cut the rope around his waist, leaving the rope hanging limply just past the last anchor point.

  “What—?” I heard from Vell.

  “He’s going back down to help Finnead,” I said weakly, staring, afraid to take my eyes off either man, as if my gaze was what helped them cling to the cliff.

  “Gods save us from men and their stupidity,” growled Vell, but there was admiration and pride in her voice and she nocked another arrow to her bow with grim determination.

  “Gods save them,” I said, “from vengeful, furious sirens.”

  Chapter 20

  Wind plucked at my hair, unraveling its braid bit by bit as I leaned over the cliff, clutching dry grass in my hands, sharp pain radiating from my leg. Luca climbed swiftly down toward Finnead—so fast that I would call it reckless if my heart wasn’t in my throat, watching the silver trail of the sirens. Vell sent another green-fletched arrow whistling down into the water but the two tails flashed mockingly, drawing ever closer.

  Luca reached Finnead as the sirens carved through the water, now no more than a stone’s throw away from the two men. Fear for them both surged in my chest and a wordless sound escaped me. Vell’s next arrow hit the lead siren square in the tail, but after disappearing for a moment beneath the water the tail reappeared, smeared with green ichor and free of the arrow. I hissed through my teeth. I couldn’t see the expressions on the sirens’ faces as they surfaced, cutting through the water with arms outstretched hungrily, but I imagined the bloodlust in their eyes, their sharp pointed little teeth bared in anticipation of sweet flesh. Luca untied the length of rope from his waist and refastened it, creating a lead between him and Finnead. He started to climb again, with a speed that suggested he knew the peril they faced. Forin untied the rope from the last anchor point and brought it down the cliff again. He and Farin tied it to Finnead’s belt, and the two Glasidhe lent their strength to the Vealanbrigh as well, pulling upward, their auras brightening as their wings beat the air.

  Even with Luca’s help, Finnead struggled. His movements lacked their normal grace as he climbed stiffly. I saw Luca turn his head, glimpse the sirens, and he reached down, grabbing Finnead’s arm and hauling him bodily up the cliff. They were almost to the first anchor point. Forin and Farin spun in dizzying arcs around them.

  The first siren slid out of the water in a deadly silver streak. Luca pushed Finnead up ahead of him and then climbed faster than I’d seen anyone climb before. The siren reared up on her tail and clawed at Luca, missing him by mere inches as he pulled himself up past the first anchor point. The siren screamed in frustration and scrabbled at the cliff face, but her tail was too heavy for her to climb. Theles. It was Theles, because the other siren had strange tentacles where her hands should have been, dripping ichor down onto the gray rocks.

  Theles thrashed and screamed again, clawing at the rock, but Luca was above her reach. I felt a warm rush of triumph and dizzying relief, clenching my hands closed on tufts of grass and breathing deeply, willing myself to keep watching.

  Then Ligiea motioned with her sickening tentacles, and Theles picked up a boulder with no more effort than I would have hefted a tennis ball. My stomach turned to ice. “Vell,” I said warningly.

  “I’ve got her,” came the murmured reply.

  The arrow hit Theles in the shoulder just as she threw the boulder, the impact enough to spoil her aim. I stifled my cry of alarm with one hand as the boulder crashed into the cliff above Luca. The Northman swung to the side, holding on by one hand, the muscles in his arms standing out so that I could see them even from so far up. The boulder crashed down deafeningly, birthing a huge cloud of black dust. When the dark cloud cleared, blood obscured Luca’s face. Farin circled Luca, no doubt giving him her version of encouragement as Forin tied the rope attached to Finnead’s belt to the second anchor point. Luca climbed quickly enough to dispel any worry of serious injury, aiming for the anchor point. When he reached it, he paused and then cut the tether between him and the Vaelanbrigh. Another rock crashed up from below, followed by Theles’ furious strident scream. The next few rocks were smaller—not boulders, but still the size of my head. Theles hurled them with increasing accuracy. As Luca hauled on the rope to help Finnead climb, one of Theles’ missiles hurtled into him, smashing into his shoulder and slamming him into the side of the cliff. The sirens shrieked with mani
c joy as I gasped. Luca lost his hold—I dug my fingers into the dry earth at the edge of the cliff, breathless with fear. He reached, fingers seeking, and grabbed the rope as he fell. Finnead clung doggedly to the cliff, and after a moment Luca swung his arm back up to the rock face, his movement stiff. I let out the breath I hadn’t known I’d been holding as I watched the two men’s painfully slow progress up the cliff.

  “I can’t imagine how you watched me climb,” I commented to Vell.

  “I didn’t,” she replied simply, her golden eyes still intent on the forms of the sirens below. “Think I could hit the one without the hands in the eye?” she asked speculatively.

  The image of Ligiea’s hands on the ichor-stained white rock of the sirens’ cave turned my stomach. I swallowed the bile that rose to the back of my throat with difficulty. Rather than answer Vell, I watched Theles’ ineffectual rage as she hurled rocks that no longer even came close to reaching Finnead and Luca. Her shrieks echoed against the crashing of the river.

  “Almost to the last anchor point,” Farin reported to me.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice.

  “Merrick,” Vell called sharply. The young navigator emerged from the copse of trees, his face drawn. I wondered with a shiver what sight had made his eyes so grave.

  “We’ll get Finnead up here first, and then Luca.” Vell set down her bow and swung her quiver from her shoulder.

  “I’m not going to be much help,” I said truthfully, the ache in my leg rising again as I shifted.

  “I know,” replied Vell. Then she added, not unkindly, “I’m glad we found you three before the sun went down. I would not have wanted to spend the night in a siren’s lair.”

  “We almost didn’t have a choice.” I shuddered at the memory of Theles’ hands against my skin. Or rather, not so much the memory of her hands—she was a beautiful creature—but the memory of the glazed all-encompassing desire that her hands and her poisonous kiss had kindled within me.

  Merrick and Vell set up the rope for Finnead efficiently, having perfected their technique on my climb. Vell tied the rope around the boulder, and then they both gripped the rope, Vell in front of Merrick. On Forin’s command, they hauled on the rope, pulling it through their fingers at an inhuman speed. And again on Forin’s word, they stopped, and Merrick held the strain on the rope while Vell bellied up to the edge of the cliff.