by L. V Russell
Laphaniel shook his head, fighting with too slick hands to remove Ferdia’s breastplate. Cole tossed it aside before slamming his hands against his chest.
Again,
and again.
“Wait,” Laphaniel hissed, shoving Cole to the side before forcing Ferdia’s head back. He reached into his mouth and hooked out a coil of thick green weed. Ferdia drew in a guttering breath, dark eyes flying open before he spewed up a stomach-full of brackish lake water into Laphaniel’s lap.
“Wonderful,” Laphaniel muttered, rising to his feet.
“I could have gone in after him,” Fell, Ferdia’s twin, snapped, whirling on Cole. “I could have got him out!”
“I am not losing good men on this ridiculous quest,” Cole answered, giving me a pointed look. “Both of them got out by the skin of their teeth.”
I ran my hands over Laphaniel. “Are you okay? Look at me, are you okay?”
He nodded slowly, his eyes not meeting mine.
Cole stood, giving Laphaniel a sharp slap on the back. “You have our thanks. We’ll camp beyond the lake here tonight. All of you, clear the area, get the fires lit. Ferdia, get up and walk it off. Faolan and Liam, retrieve the fucking swords, and be wary of any remaining slippery bastards. Oliver and Angus go and get food. Fell, see to the horses.”
Cole was met with a chorus of shouts, an echo of his orders as the Raven knights began to move. Faolan and Liam eyed the shallows with caution, shoving each other closer to the bloodied water, bickering who would be going in first.
With a broad hand, Cole swept the dark curls from his face, turning to Laphaniel.
“You didn’t let him go,” he said, eyes narrowing.
“No.”
“Get yourself something to eat, and a stiff drink, though don’t accept anything Liam offers you, he brews it himself, and it tastes like satyr piss.”
“Would you have left him?” I asked before he walked away. “Would you have let my husband drown?”
Cole held my stare, unflinching and unapologetic, then he simply nodded and turned his back on us.
I took Laphaniel’s freezing hand to lead him down to the camp that was slowly forming not too far away, feeling it tremble against mine.
“I just need a minute.” His voice hitched, breathing ragged. He wrenched his hand from mine, shoving the sodden hair from his eyes. “One minute.”
“What’s wrong?” I asked, pulling him close. He swallowed down breaths, fingers digging into my back. “Laphaniel?”
“I pulled pond weed from your mouth too.” He forced the words out, struggling against me.
The water, the mermaids. I had no idea how deeply it had affected him because he didn’t speak of it…only once beneath the Unseelie Castle while in the grips of a fever dream.
He sucked in another breath, a gasping sound I had heard countless times before, the noise he made before he woke screaming. The noise I had heard him make upon a bloodstained floor in a ruined castle.
A shuddering, awful breath after what had nearly been his last.
He had gone under the water and couldn’t breathe.
“You’re fine,” I whispered to him. “You’re fine.”
He shook his head, eyes wide. I placed my hand over his heart, feeling it jackhammer back at me.
“It’s okay.” I could taste his panic, sharp and unending. “Close your eyes, I’m not going anywhere, close your eyes.”
He did as I instructed, squeezing his eyes shut, growing agitated while I held onto him.
“Hold your breath.”
He shook his head again, pulling away from me
“Hold your breath,” I repeated, digging my fingers into his shoulders, until he obeyed. “Now let it go.”
It hissed through his teeth, angry and scared.
“Again.”
He opened his eyes, and he blew out a breath, steadier as the panic started to ebb from his eyes.
“Again.”
“Teya…” Laphaniel began, his voice catching.
“Shh, it’s okay,” I said, but he just shook his head, his fingers fumbling for mine.
“No…I saw it.” He stumbled over the words. “I slipped under the water…I must have blacked out for just a second…but it’s waiting. It’s waiting for me and it’s so angry.”
Dread prickled at my spine, at the memory of shadowy fingers hovering over my husband. I had felt its wrath in that cursed tower, its reluctance at giving up what rightfully belonged to it.
“Perhaps it was only a flashback?” I began, desperate to comfort him. “Like your nightmares?”
“No, it was different…”
“You felt it try to drag you back? Wherever you went before?”
Laphaniel met my eyes, the strange blue clouded. “I don’t think I get to go back there.”
“I won’t let that happen,” I said to him, running my hands up and down his arms until he at last stopped trembling. “I will journey through the pits of hell to find you and drag you out if that is what I have to do. It’ll be another adventure. I’ll bring Charlotte and Oonagh, Nefina too, and we’ll wreak so much havoc that death itself will throw you out to get some peace.”
A thin smile spread over his lips. “I don’t doubt you.”
“Make sure you don’t,” I said, reaching out to brush the hair from his face. “We’ll figure this out together, you and me. You’re not alone.”
“I know.”
“Come on, let’s find a place by the fire, have something to eat, and do all of this again tomorrow.”
We made our way through the thin and crooked trees, their limbs covered in thick moss that dripped from the branches. The blackened wood looked dead, rotten; pieces ripped open to reveal an abundance of fungus thriving within. Life still clung to the branches, blooms of vivid orange flowers stretched up towards the strange Unseelie light, tiny buds of purple flourished along the cracks and crevices. Some of the trees even held onto their leaves, blackened things with pointed edges that caught against my clothes when I brushed past.
The others barely looked up as we joined the camp, but Cole caught my eye and gave me a slight nod before gesturing to the spit hanging above the roaring fire.
We settled a little way away from the group but close enough to feel the benefit of the generous fire. We ate readily, the wild pig filling my stomach while the sound of the Raven knights’ chatter filled my ears. Drinks were passed around, strong spirits that burned my throat and tasted like the earth, both muddy and gritty.
I sat between Laphaniel’s legs, his head resting against my shoulder, arms loose around me. Together we listened to the stories the Raven knights shared, of the battles they had seen, the things they had fought against, the friends they had lost. I listened as their tales slipped into laments, and with the drinks flowing they soon turned into bawdy songs that I couldn’t help grinning along to.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
We rested beneath the stars, the warmth from the fire keeping some of the night’s chill at bay, but not enough that I couldn’t feel the damp settle deep into my bones. I huddled beneath a thick blanket, the sound of Laphaniel’s steady breathing in my ear. His hand rested in my lap, head tilted back against the tree trunk he leant on. I couldn’t sleep.
Restless, I carefully untangled myself and tucked the blanket back around Laphaniel. I made my way to the centre of the camp, mindful not to step on the fingers of the sleeping knights. Snores and grunts lifted from the mounds of blankets, drifting into the star-flecked skies to join the distant howls and cries that filled the Unseelie night.
Picking up a log from the stacked pile, I tossed it into the fire and watched the sparks dance. The flames eased the numbness from my fingers, bringing warmth back to my aching joints.
“Do you want some company?” I asked the faerie taking watch, and his deep brown eyes met mine, almost black despite the firelight.
“Is your lover boring you?” he answered, flashing teeth.
“My husband
is sleeping.” I threw another stick into the flames. “I needed to stretch my legs.”
“Can’t sleep?” His eyes flashed, head tilting. “Does a group of hostile men worry you?”
I tensed, instantly returning my gaze to Laphaniel’s sleeping form, not far from us. “Should it?”
He scrubbed a hand down his face, scratching against the reddish stubble on his chin. “No, you’re safe enough with us.”
He shifted to make room for me on the thick log, and I sat beside him, accepting the flask he passed to me.
“You look very young to be meddling in things you don’t truly understand.”
“Don’t I know it,” I replied, taking a hearty sip from the flask before passing it back. The Raven knight took a long sip, eyes still on me, waiting. “I would rather not be here; I’d rather not be meddling in all…this.”
“Where would you rather be?” He turned slightly, so he faced me, the inky feathers on his cloak rippling with the movement, the firelight catching the deeper hues of blue within them.
“In a house made of stone,” I answered, closing my eyes so I could see it. “Where it rained blossom inside, and the walls breathed. I would rather be on a bed made from fallen trees, piled with threadbare throws and soft furs. A place where I was loved beyond anything else.”
“You wouldn’t go home?”
“That was home,” I said, rubbing at the sudden ache within my chest, a longing that had rooted deep within me.
“Would you not want your sister back?”
“No, you can keep her.”
He snorted into the flask, choking on the mouthful he had just taken, and I found myself grinning.
“What’s your name?”
“Faolan,” he said, a lopsided smile still on his face. “Cole is an ungrateful shit, but the rest of us won’t forget what your husband did for Ferdia, least of all Fell.”
I glanced back at Laphaniel, smiling. “He has a weird thing for damsels in distress.”
Another laugh, rich and genuine. “Careful, Queen of Seelie, else I may end up liking you.”
“Would that be so awful?”
“It wouldn’t be wise, seeing as our courts are longstanding enemies.”
And always would be if all went well. The contract I signed made that abundantly clear.
“What kind of queen is Niven?”
All traces of humour vanished from Faolan’s face. “It is treason to speak ill of one’s sovereign.”
“I wasn’t going to tell her, obviously.”
Faolan leant closer, the liquor on his breath strong and unpleasant. “You may hold your tongue, but the trees are listening. I am rather fond of my beautiful head remaining attached to my body.”
“Do you fear her more than the Unseelie King?”
His breath tickled against my ear, and I fought the urge to flinch. “Phabian is the King of the Unseelie. Your sister is human.”
“You didn’t answer my question.”
“Any sane creature would be wary of Niven.”
I smiled, pulling away. “That still isn’t an answer.”
“It’s all you’re getting, Queen of Seelie.”
I stayed a little longer and warmed myself by the fire, watching over the sleeping bodies of the Raven knights, a sea of shimmering black feathers beneath the even blacker night sky.
From where I sat, I could just make out the hands clasped around sword hilts, fingers curling around the handles of daggers, of knives. I was not mistaken to believe they were deeply asleep…that they wouldn’t leap up at the first sound of trouble. It led me to wonder if they ever slept peacefully if they knew how it felt to sleep long and deep without fear.
Because I didn’t.
“There’s a few hours before dawn,” Faolan said, his dark eyes scanning the campsite. “It’s going to be a long day tomorrow. You’d better try and get some rest, otherwise, you’ll slow us all down if you fall from your horse.”
“Goodnight, then.” I stood and dusted myself off. Faolan nodded, kicking a few more logs into the hungry fire.
“You’re nothing like your sister,” he said to my back, leaving me to wonder if he meant it as a compliment or not.
Laphaniel stirred when I crept back beneath the blankets, flinching at the touch of my cold fingers.
“Sorry,” I whispered, huddling closer. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
“What is it with you and wandering off?” he said, shifting on the damp ground, trying to get comfortable again. “Your hands are freezing, Teya.”
But he was warm, so wonderfully warm. He hissed at my hands, sneaking beneath the layers he wore, but he didn’t fight me off. The blankets tightened around me, my head tucked beneath his chin as he pulled me closer.
“I couldn’t sleep,” I said, closing my eyes to the sound of his heartbeat. “I don’t think I’ll be able to rest until this is all over. If it’ll ever be over.”
“Your Glamour will only be more unpredictable if you’re exhausted.”
I sighed, and he ran his hand down my back in long, soothing strokes. “It’s already pretty damned unpredictable.”
“You can ride in front of me tomorrow if you need to, it might be easier to sleep if you’re moving.”
I tilted my head up, meeting his eyes. “That won’t look very queen-like, though, will it? What will the Unseelie think of me, dribbling on your shoulder?”
“I don’t care what they think,” Laphaniel answered, hands still moving across my back, fingers needing into the knots twisted beneath my skin. “I care about you.”
I lifted the pendant hanging from his neck, my fingers stroking over the smooth wood, following the strange etches carved into one side. “Were you dreaming?”
“Before your frozen fingers woke me up? Yes, I was.”
“About what?” I asked, grinning.
“Usually, it’s you, for you are a cause of constant worry,” he said, huffing a laugh when I elbowed him. “Tonight, I dreamt of Nefina.”
“Do you think she’s safe?”
“She’s with Oonagh, so I want to believe so,” he answered, unable to hide the flash of regret upon his face. “But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve left it too late.”
“It’s not too late,” I said, entwining my fingers through his. “We’ll find her again, and you can spend the next hundred years making it right for her.”
He took a breath. “What if she’s already dead?”
I had no answer for him, at least nothing that could offer him any sense of comfort, because I simply did not know. I only had the hope that our friends were still alive, but that was not enough. Hope was a fickle, cruel thing, and we both knew that.
Dawn came slowly and too soon, the dark skies lightening to a mercifully clear day, the morning light glowing violet down through the spindly trees. Dew glistened over the coarse grass, the barest hint of frost lingering upon the ground.
I stirred after a restless night, damp and cold from sleeping on the floor, my bones aching as I stretched some life back into them. Quiet chatter drifted around; most of the raven knights were already awake and up, gathering around the fire where something was cooking for breakfast. I nudged Laphaniel, and he opened bleary eyes, scrubbing a hand over them before I pulled him to his feet.
Cole glanced up at us from his seat on a weathered log, gesturing to a pot bubbling over the flames. “Get some food while it’s still hot, because it’s foul when left to cool, it starts to congeal.”
“What is it?”
A smirk crept over his lips. “The remains of what was left from last night, some hot water, a handful of herbs and oats. You won’t find fine dining here.”
I ladled some into a bowl with a shrug. “I’ve eaten worse.”
We ate the salty, grey stew with little complaint, scraping what was left of the meat off the bones floating within it. It was warming and filling, just enough to keep the chill off for a little while.
I helped douse the fire while Laphaniel pack
ed up the horses, the entire camp busy and organised. There was little chatter, just shouted orders for everything to be stripped away, leaving no sign that we were ever there.
We rode, and we camped, and we rode again. For six long days, we continued through the Unseelie lands. Slowly, the damp, swampy landscape hardened into clearer plains, to crashing rivers and jagged rocks. Colossal trees intertwined together to create natural bridges high overhead; the boughs so thick they made walkways that hung over the furious waterfalls that flowed beneath. The land dipped and fell into deep gorges that scarred the miles of open ground as far as the eye could see.
The nights crept in colder, the days gave little relief from the biting chill. The eerie permanent twilight sky remained clear and cloudless and bitingly cold. Within the span of a few days, autumn had given up its lingering fight and allowed winter to creep in. In the mornings, the frost had stopped melting.
Tempers frayed, and Cole had his hands full, splitting up scuffles between his men.
“This is fucking bullshit,” Oliver, a towering knight with cropped blond hair, snapped. “Remind me again why we’re freezing our bollocks off for this brat?”
“Would you rather be all tucked up someplace nice and warm?” Laphaniel answered tightly.
Oliver spun his horse around, and Laphaniel’s hand instantly went to the knife at his belt. “Yes! Wouldn’t you?”
Laphaniel paused while the others exchanged wary glances. Cole tensed his shoulders, readying himself to pull the two fey apart if they started. Slowly, Laphaniel’s fingers relaxed, and his knife remained sheathed.
“Anywhere but here,” he answered finally, earning a curt nod from Oliver.
“Surrounded by a swarm of whores and endless ale,” the broad knight said. “Ever been to a brothel, boy?”
“I’ve seen my share of them,” Laphaniel replied through gritted teeth, jerking forwards as Oliver clapped him hard on the back.
“Happiest places on earth.” Oliver snapped the reins of his horse. “Hook yourself up with an Unseelie whore while you’re here, I swear you’ll never look back.”
“He’s married!” I yelled to him, earning myself a cackle of laughter from the knights. I turned my attention to Cole, who eyed me with an exasperated look on his face. “I thought you said it would take a week to get to Luthien? We’ve been travelling for six days, and we’re still on Unseelie soil.”