To Kill a Fae

by Jamie A. Waters

  “Bane,” Sabine said quietly and placed her hand on his heated arm. Bane might be trying to protect her, but not at the expense of hurting Balkin. “Don’t do this. I will not have you at odds with each other.”

  Bane placed his hand over hers, holding her to him. He leaned down and brushed his nose against hers. “I told you there would be consequences of your Calling, little one. You have trusted me with your safety not once, but more than thrice. I will not step aside and allow anyone to send me away from you, unless you request it or accompany me.”

  “Your demon is within his rights,” Balkin said before she could argue with Bane or tell him to leave. Surprised, Sabine turned to face the Beastman who had protected her most of her life.

  He walked over to her and pressed a kiss against her forehead. “It is difficult for me to relinquish control over your safety to another, but you have done what is necessary to survive here. I was unsure you would ever willingly gift a mark to either Dax or Bane, which was why I bound Dax to you. But your mark on Bane’s skin indicates he’s earned the right to be at your side.”

  Sabine fell silent, a sliver of suspicion entering her mind. Bane wasn’t usually so overbearing, and Balkin could be sneaky when it suited him. Something else was going on under the surface.

  Taking Balkin’s clawed hands in hers, Sabine said, “You will always be my guardian, Balkin. Yours was the first face I remember, your claws protecting and caring for me. I trust you with my life, and that will never change. But I’m getting the impression you and Bane are purposely picking a fight with each other. Are you trying to manipulate me so I’ll leave too?”

  Balkin’s gaze softened, his lips curving in a smile that showed a hint of his fangs. “For generations, I have served your family out of respect and duty, placing their protection and welfare above my own. From the moment you were first placed in my arms, I also began to serve out of love. I would ask, my darling kitten and child of my heart, that you allow me a moment of privacy with this dragon.”

  She turned toward Malek, who watched them with no small measure of curiosity. He didn’t seem troubled or concerned over Balkin’s request to speak with him privately, and she didn’t have the impression Balkin meant him any harm.

  After a long interval, she nodded and kissed Balkin’s cheek. In the language of her birth, she said, “You will always be the father of my heart as well, Balkin Lioneyes.”

  His eyes filled with unspoken emotion, and he gave her a curt nod as she turned away. Taking Bane’s arm, she headed out of the room. Bane closed the door behind them and led her down the hallway in the direction of the kitchen.

  “I will not apologize for what I said to him,” Bane said in a low voice.

  “I didn’t expect you would, but either one of you could have asked me to go,” Sabine said with a sigh, her thoughts considering different possibilities about why Balkin wanted to speak with Malek.

  Balkin couldn’t order her to leave, since her rank surpassed his. The Beastpeople and even most of the Fae were sticklers for protocol and social niceties. Her experiences in Akros had stripped her of much of that. The learning curve upon arrival in the city had been steep. She’d been more than a little arrogant and self-assured. Dax and Bane had both delighted in teaching her the errors of her ways.

  “You don’t need to worry. He won’t kill the dragon.”

  Sabine paused, turning to look up at Bane. “Then I was right about that being a ruse to get rid of me. Do you know why he wanted to speak with Malek alone?”

  Bane inclined his head and continued walking. She glared at his retreating figure, knowing he was purposely being difficult so she would follow him.

  Bane glanced at her over his shoulder with a teasing grin on his face. “You coming?”

  “At least Balkin tries to give me the illusion he’s listening to me,” she grumbled but continued down the hall.

  He slowed his footsteps until she caught up. “You’ve always known who and what I am, little one. If you strongly objected to our desire to give Balkin privacy with the dragon, you never would have agreed to leave that room.”

  She shrugged. “You think I’m foolish for wanting to trust Malek, don’t you?”

  Bane hesitated. “Not foolish, but it’s not wise either. I know you miss your own kind, Sabine. The issues between Dax and myself have only made things more difficult for you. Malek possesses powerful magic, and he knows some of the truth about you. I imagine that’s very appealing.”

  Sabine didn’t answer right away. Bane had always had a talent for cutting to the heart of the matter, a trait that had proven to make him an effective assassin. And one that was annoying in every other situation.

  “You believe I’m looking to him as a possible replacement for what I’ve lost?”

  “Haven’t you?” he asked mildly, putting his hand on her back and leading her down the hall. “If you were still living amongst your people and surrounded by their magic, would you even consider opening your heart and memories to a dragon? Or a demon, for that matter?”

  When she frowned, Bane continued, “You’ve marked both of us, little one. While mine is permanent, you’ve made repeated efforts to reapply Malek’s marker. I’ve never known you to leave an unclaimed mark in place for so long, especially one that’s most likely trivial in nature. You want that connection with him. That small trace of his magic filtering through your mark reminds you of home.”

  Sabine stopped walking and squeezed her eyes shut as his words crashed over her. “How long have you known?”

  “I suspected when I drank of your shared wine,” he said quietly. “It was confirmed when Dax told me how often you’d been reapplying Malek’s debt marker. What agreement does it represent?”

  Sabine blew out a breath, somewhat surprised Dax hadn’t killed Malek when he’d learned what she’d done. “Nothing more than an intent to share dinner. I tried to tell myself I wanted to protect him from Dax. That was only part of the truth.” Sabine lowered her gaze to stare at the cold, stone floor. “You’re right. About all of it. Malek reminded me of everything I’ve lost. The first words he spoke to me were in Fae and in an oath of no harm. It was as though he recognized me, even with the glamour.”

  Bane tipped her chin back so he could look into her eyes. “I know neither Dax nor I can give you what you truly need. We speak to the Unseelie magic in your heart, and that’s only one aspect to you. I won’t pretend to understand the rest of your desires, but I don’t know if a dragon can either.”

  Sabine wrapped her hand around Bane’s wrist. “You told Balkin everything, didn’t you? That’s why he wanted to speak to Malek alone?”

  “If we cannot find an outlet for your Seelie magic, I fear we may lose you,” Bane admitted, resting his forehead against hers. “Your powers hadn’t fully developed when you left Faerie. Both aspects of your magic are still growing and evolving, and we don’t have an Elder who can help harness your abilities by etching your skin. The pixies and Esmelle’s garden are no longer enough to sustain you.”

  She frowned, unsure if the tattooed marks on her skin would be enough at this point. She could only pour so much of her magic into Esme’s garden before people started to notice. Magic needed an outlet, and she’d been pretending to be human and repressing hers for far too long. “Balkin believes Malek might be able to temper my Seelie magic?”

  Bane sighed. “I’m still of the mind the only tolerable dragon is a dead one. Dax agrees with that sentiment, but Balkin was intrigued by the possibility, especially when he learned how Malek was able to revive you with dragonfire. I suspect that’s partly how Elis’andreia was able to remain living in the Sky Cities for so long.”

  Sabine’s eyes widened, and she glanced back down the hallway. “Malek’s grandmother would have been Seelie. The ability to grow or bring the Silver Trees to awareness is Seelie magic.”

  “Indeed,” Bane said quietly, putting his hand on her back again to lead her away. “Even if Malek can help offset the effects
and hide you from the Fae, you must never forget his true identity. Bind him to you, if you must. But tread carefully, little one. I will see him dead and broken before I allow him to steal you away to the Sky Cities and out of our reach forever. On that, we’re all in agreement.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  The sound of voices and Esmelle’s laughter could be heard as Sabine and Bane approached the kitchen. It immediately put a smile on her face, and she entered the room to find Esmelle sitting at the table with Dax and Javyn. Blossom was perched on the table in front of one of the largest honey cakes Sabine had ever seen. The look of complete rapture on the pixie’s face was comical.

  “You’re going to get her sick,” Sabine warned, trying to suppress a laugh.

  “I won’t get sick,” Blossom said with her cheeks bulging. Although, it sounded more like, “Ah wah geh ‘ick.”

  Esmelle laughed again. “Sabine’s right. You really should consider taking either smaller bites or slowing down. Martha said that cake was meant to feed your whole family.”

  Blossom swallowed and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “Nope. They don’t get cake. They were too scared of the demons to tell Sabine the truth. It’s my cake now.”

  Sabine shook her head and walked over to the counter. Picking up a small saucer, she filled it with water and brought it over to the table for the pixie. “Pace yourself, Blossom. You can eat your fill and still have enough to take some to your family and the new pixie clan.”

  “Tried to pick flowers. Wrong moon. They don’t get cake either,” Blossom said and broke off another chunk of the honey cake. She dunked it into the water and shoved it into her mouth. Her cheeks bulged at the oversized bite again, and she started chewing.

  Sabine sighed. It looked like she was going to have to deal with a sick pixie.

  Dax grinned. “If the pixie’s too sick to fly, I’m keeping her. I have an ale that will go quite nicely with the tart taste of pixies.”

  Blossom’s eyes widened. She squeaked, causing cake crumbs to fly out of her mouth and over the table. She dove into Sabine’s hair and up against her neck, trembling in fear.

  “You’re not eating Blossom,” Sabine said as Blossom hugged her neck. “And you, Blossom, had better not be getting crumbs in my hair.”

  “Ahm nah,” Blossom said, which Sabine guessed meant, “I’m not.”

  She rolled her eyes, not believing that for a minute.

  Esmelle laughed again and leaned forward, tearing off a piece of the honey cake for herself. “Dax and I were taking bets over whether you and Bane would come out here together. Looks like I lost.”

  Dax leaned back in his chair, his expression smug. “Want to know what I won, Sabine?”

  “Nope. I’ve had enough experience with your bets that I don’t want to know the answer.” She pointed at Esmelle. “You should know better too. Dax doesn’t bet on anything unless he knows he’s going to win.”

  Javyn chuckled. “She knows you well.”

  Dax grinned and took another sip of his ale. Bane walked around the table and toward the window, staring out into the waning sunlight. Sabine frowned and approached him, curious about what had caught his attention. He tensed, grabbed her arm, and hauled her backward.

  “City guards,” he said quietly, jerking his head toward the window. “A lot of them. A few mercenaries too, based on their clothing. They’re surrounding the tavern.”

  Without a word, Dax leapt across the table and peered out the window. “They’re not any of mine. It’s that damned councilman. I don’t like the timing of this. They’re hitting us right before the tavern is about to open for regular business.”

  Javyn’s hand flew to the sword strapped to his waist. “Orders?”

  Without turning, Dax said, “Bane, escort Sabine and Esmelle to the tunnels. I want them out of here. Javyn, clear the upper floors of the tavern. Tell Martha and Henry we’ve got company. They know what to do.”

  Javyn turned, his boots silent as he ran from the room.

  Sabine frowned at Dax. He usually slept during the day in his room below the tavern. If they were doing this now, the councilman must have another mole inside Dax’s organization. “Martha and Henry won’t be able to stall them for long, Dax. If they’re here during daylight hours and before your men arrive, they must know you’re here without your usual support. I can seal the stairwell behind us, preventing them from searching it.”

  “Do it.” Dax waved her toward the door. “Get her out of here, Bane. Quickly. It looks like they’re almost in position.”

  Bane grabbed her arm, but she jerked away from him and snapped, “I am not sealing the stairwell without you behind it, Dax. The councilman is working with a magic user strong enough to create a lich ward.”

  Dax muttered a curse under his breath and stepped away from the window. “Fine. Let’s go. We need to grab Balkin too.”

  Sabine nodded and ran back down the hallway toward the war room. Balkin and Malek looked up the moment she pushed open the door. Balkin’s hand immediately flew to his weapon. He glanced over at Dax and ordered, “Report.”

  “At least six squads of city guards are moving into position around the tavern. We’re leaving. Sabine will seal the tunnel to the stairway as soon as we’re out. Javyn’s evacuating the upper floors and taking everyone out through the secondary tunnels.”

  While Dax explained the plan, Sabine darted over to the table. Malek started gathering his papers and putting them back in the box. She grabbed the bag and snatched up the chalice, intending to dump it inside. Magic coiled around her arms and her skin began to glow. She hissed as her glamour began to falter, flashing her thorned tattoos. They didn’t have time for this.

  “Mistress?” Balkin questioned, taking a step toward her.

  She ignored him, busy concentrating on the chalice and the layers of magic encircling it. Belatedly, she realized she should have used the bag to pick it up. The lich ward was gone, but the distant sound of drums pounded in her ears. Turning the chalice in her hands, the glow of the flames from the candlelight caught the facets of the gems embedded on the surface, almost hypnotizing her as the power moved across her skin.

  A sudden realization hit her, staggering her in shock. The chalice wanted to be used. It was sentient, aware of the approaching danger. It had claimed her as worthy of possessing it. If she needed help defending her friends, the chalice offered its assistance. But like most Fae magic, this wasn’t a gift. It demanded a sacrifice, a binding of sorts, for it to be hers. She swallowed, unable to tear her eyes away from it.

  “Sabine?” Malek asked, approaching her quietly. “Can you release it?”

  Daughter. Accept this gift. You will be blessed.

  “It knows me,” she whispered, shocked to her core at the familiar voice. Dimly, she was aware she’d spoken in Fae, the same language it had used when speaking to her. The chalice warmed in her hand, but it didn’t burn her. Its magical tendrils continued moving upward along her skin, exploring and tasting her magic. She closed her eyes, falling into the magic and exploring it in the same way it was doing to her.

  Peace, unlike anything she’d known outside of Faerie, filled her as the remaining vestiges of her glamour fall away. A sacrifice was due. A demand for recognition of her magic and blood. Reaching down, she withdrew her knife and sliced open her palm. Blood, heady with the scent of her magic, welled to the surface and dripped from the wound. Her hand pressed over the top of the chalice, allowing the dark red liquid to spill into it.

  Power infused her words as she spoke the oath whispered to her by the chalice. “I claim you, by blood and magic. In tribute to the gods and the last sacrifice of the goddess Lachlina, I swear by all I am and the last of the magic of this world to uphold my family’s oath in defense from those who would see this world destroyed.”

  The chalice began to glow brighter and sharper until it became nearly blinding. It lifted from her hand, hovering in the air overhead, heating her blood within it. The sound o
f drums pounded in her temples, beating a staccato rhythm in time with her heartbeat.

  As I will it, the pact is sealed.

  Light and magic exploded from the chalice, dropping Sabine to her knees. Her knife clattered to the ground, and she took a staggered breath as the power of the chalice settled over her like a thick blanket. It raced up her arms and down the rest of her body, the marks on her arms glowing and pulsing in time with her heartbeat and the drums. She lowered her head, her partially unbound silvered hair falling over her face.

  Pain. Liquid fire. It seared over her skin, forming a new mark. An image of the chalice seared into the flesh on the inside of her wrist, glowing in the same way of her existing marks. She gritted her teeth from the pain, accepting this binding and the power it represented. Memories, sharp and bitter, flooded her mind as the hours of the Elders’ markings became alive again. It was as though the magic of the chalice was using those years of pain to solidify this binding.

  When it finished, only the faint pulse of the new mark on her skin remained. Sabine took a shaky breath and lifted her gaze to stare at the chalice now resting at the edge of the table. It was only a symbol, a vessel designed to contain the source of power capable of sealing the portal closed. The magic of the chalice was now part of her, as evidenced by the new mark on her skin. Even if she was no longer touching it, she could draw upon its strength. For all intents and purposes, she was now the chalice.

  Picking up her fallen weapon, she slid it back in its sheath and pushed herself up from the ground. Her wound was healed. The blood that had coated the inside of the chalice was also gone, consumed by the magic of the ancient artifact. She picked up the chalice, staring at it in wonder. The mark on her wrist pulsed once, and the chalice warmed in her hand before it cooled again. It had gifted her with some unknown form of magic, but it now lay dormant in her hands. The chalice was still sentient, but it would be patient to wait until she was willing to use it.