Institute of the Shadow Fae Box Set

by C. N. Crawford

  My jaw dropped open. Things really aren’t always what they seem. “I thought you were human. What the hells are you?”

  “I’ve been telling you and telling you. The devil wears many faces.” Flames erupted from her eyes, and a long tongue of fire unfurled from her mouth.

  I ducked, narrowly missing the flames.

  Without another word, she leapt into the center of the mist army. Swaths of flames curled off her body, snaking around the soldiers. As the fiery magic touched their bodies, they hissed, evaporating like steam. The air felt heavy with water as Ciara’s fire singed the mist soldiers. I stared at the steam curling up into the heavens. She was actually destroying them, when our blades couldn’t.

  Ciara really was protecting me, this creature forged in the fiery depths of a mountain. And all this time, I’d thought she was the one who needed me.

  I didn’t have much time to gape at this transformation. A battle still raged here at the Institute, while Baleros was fighting to slaughter the Wraith. Speaking of the Wraith, where had he gone?

  While I’d been staring at Ciara, Baleros and Ruadan had both leapt away once more.

  My old master’s rosewater scent coiled through the air like a miasma, a smell that would forever make me sick. I desperately needed to end him, to rid my skull of his phantom presence. As long as he lived, Baleros would always be one step ahead of me, living in my mind, predicting my moves before I made them.

  And worse, if he lived, Baleros would tell everyone the truth about me.

  Frantically, I searched the green for Ruadan, for Baleros. And when I saw them, my heart stopped.

  With dozens of mist soldiers surrounding him, Ruadan didn’t see Baleros shadow-leaping behind him. He didn’t notice that Baleros was raising an iron sword.

  I didn’t think. I just leapt, fury erupting like a volcano. I needed Baleros’s blood on my hands. I landed just behind Baleros with a hard thud. As he whirled, I thrust my iron blade into his heart, thrilled at the feel of my blade carving into his chest.

  It took me a moment to feel the pain fracturing my own body…just a moment to realize that while I’d been stabbing Baleros, he’d thrust his sword into me at the same time.

  The blood drained from my skull as I stared down at Baleros’s iron sword protruding from my heart.

  The world started to dim, and I heard Ruadan shouting my name as if from a great distance. His magic rippled over me, trying to pull me back from death.

  Before I died, I had just enough time for a single thought to pass through my mind.

  I always knew I’d die at the hand of Baleros.

  Chapter 65

  Darkness enveloped me, and I felt myself falling through space. Weightless, unmoored.

  I plummeted for hours, tumbling through a void.

  I’d always thought death would be peaceful, a long sleep. This was not peaceful. No, it was pure panic, endless regret, and sorrow that cut me to the marrow. I longed to feel the light on my skin again, to hear the sounds of birds calling, to skim my fingers over a lake’s surface. I needed to wrap my arms around Ruadan, around Ciara. I needed answers from them, needed their stories completed in my mind. I yearned to breathe in the scent of Ruadan’s neck as I lay under the blankets with him, limbs entangled.

  Emptiness cut me to the bone.

  I fell faster, wind tearing at my hair. When I’d been alive, this darkness, this death, had dwelled inside me like a cancer. I’d filled the void with chatter, with whiskey and blood. And I wanted those things now more than ever. And more. More. A wild hunger tore through me. I wanted to feel Ruadan’s skin against mine, to skim my teeth over his neck, to run through a forest with brambles scratching my legs, and to swim through clear, cold waters.

  I plunged ever downward—until a powerful set of arms caught me. I gasped, endlessly relieved to feel the solidity of another body.

  Pale blue eyes blazed over me, flecked with gold. I’d know those eyes anywhere. Eyes that haunted my nightmares. Death.

  He leaned down, breathing into my mouth, and warmth blossomed in my lungs.

  I opened my eyes, gasping. Pain racked my body, and I gripped my heart. A wound gaped in my chest. And yet…

  I was alive. I’d come back to life.

  If I could come back to life, that meant…

  It took me a moment to realize someone was cradling me, and I looked up into Ruadan’s black eyes. For a second, I took in the pain etched on his features. Then, the shock as he realized my eyes had opened.

  I clutched my chest, gasping. Pain still coursed through my muscles, until Ruadan’s magic slid over my skin. It soothed the hurt.

  “How are you alive?” he asked, his voice rough and jagged.

  I held my hand over the gaping wound in my chest, and I simply shook my head. I’d thought of him in death. Who could have imagined that my dying thoughts would turn to the Wraith? Things were definitely not always as they seemed.

  “Never mind,” said Ruadan. “Don’t try to speak. You killed Baleros.” The scent of burnt flesh filled the air, and smoke curled behind Ruadan’s head. “The fire goddess will bring him back.” Ruadan’s pale hair caught in the wind, and he cocked his head, studying me closely with those black eyes. “He killed you. He drove an iron sword into your heart. You were dead.”

  I loosed a long breath. Death is difficult to kill.

  He leaned down, and his breath warmed the shell of my ear. “What are you?”

  A nightmare. I said nothing. I’d learned from the best.

  His magic still whispered over my body, leaching away the pain. I wanted sleep more than anything. I rested my head against his powerful chest, and I closed my eyes.

  I sat before a mirror while Ciara did her best to smooth my hair over the back of my long gown. Silver chinks shimmered on the sheer fabric like stars, and its violet hue matched the lumen stone around my neck.

  My oldest friend’s skin looked normal again, but fire still licked in her eyes. Apparently, this was the new Ciara.

  Moonlight streamed in through the windows. I had my own room now—one covered in wildflowers, with a bath of my own.

  It had only been three days day since Baleros had rammed an iron blade into my heart, and a deep scar still marred my chest. Ruadan’s magic hadn’t been able to fully heal the skin, but he’d mended everything inside me, knitting together arteries and muscles with his magic. Now, I felt only a dull ache in the center of my chest.

  Ciara took a hairbrush to my hair, and I winced at the sharp tug of the bristles through my tangles.

  I glanced at Ciara, whose red hair still snaked around her head.

  “You never told me you were a demon,” I said.

  She shrugged. “I didn’t know. Just kind of came out. I told you my grandma came from a volcano, didn’t I?”

  My lips twitched in a smile. “We’ll make a formidable gods-damn team, you know that?”

  “Ciarianna has risen again.” She yanked at my hair, tugging my snarls into submission with the brutal hairbrush. “And now, you’re about to be knighted as a Shadow Fae by Grand Master Ruadan. Are you ready for it?”

  I stared at myself in the mirror. For just a moment, darkness flitted through my eyes, and weightlessness tugged at my chest. Then, my mind cleared. “I’m ready. Now, you’d better get the hells out of here before someone finds you.”

  “They still don’t want me here?”

  “No, Ciara. We’re supposed to slaughter demons. That hasn’t changed.”

  She blew a strand of her hair out of her eyes with a sigh. “Fine. Good luck with your knighthood. I’m coming back to check on you.” She jabbed me in the ribs. “And we need to fatten you up. You’re too thin.” Then she crossed to the center of the room. Fire blazed around her, a small tornado of flames that consumed her body. When the fire burned out, she left nothing behind but a few ashes and the scent of smoke.

  I coughed. I’d need to think of some way to explain the scent of burned flesh that the New Ciara left behin
d whenever she departed.

  A knock sounded at my door, and I crossed to it. I pulled it open and smiled at the sight of Melusine. She still wore a violet lumen stone around her neck.

  “Melusine!” I beamed. “Did you return just for the knighting ceremony?”

  She nodded. “That, and I live here now. I wanted to come back, and I hear about this job opening and I think, that’s my chance. Turns out, the librarian can’t fly around so well anymore. Got a skull fracture in a Segway accident. So I show up and I say, you know what? I belong in the library, on account of my superior intellectual skills. I can read in over three languages. English, Ancient Fae, Modern Fae, and English written by Scottish people.”

  “Nice.”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty good at stuff.”

  I smoothed my hair over my shoulder. I felt oddly nervous for this ceremony, unaccustomed to this sort of attention. “Want to walk with me to the knighting?”

  “Yeah, let’s go.” And without another word, she began stomping down the hallway.

  I hurried to catch up with her.

  As she crossed into the stairwell, she shot me a puzzled look. “Hey, why did it smell like smoke in your room?”

  I cleared my throat. “I’ve been smoking.”

  She shook her head. “No, it did not smell like tobacco. It smelled like burnt flesh.”

  I traced my fingers over the stone walls as we descended, and I tried to think of a plausible lie. “I roasted a squirrel.”

  Nope. Nope. Not a good one.

  “I heard a fire demon took out part of the mist army,” she said, as we reached the bottom of the stairwell. “A friend of yours. Not supposed to be in this realm anymore though, is she? I put two and two together.” Before pushing through the door, she stared at me for a long time. At last, she said, “Not my problem. I’m just the librarian.”

  She stepped out onto the night-dark Tower Green. Shadow magic pulsed around her body, and she leapt across the green to the white stone Cailleach Tower.

  For a moment, my eyes flicked across the Green to the spot where Baleros had driven a blade through my heart. My breath caught in my lungs. That feeling of weightlessness whispered through my blood, dizzying me.

  I faltered, then focused again on the feel of my feet on the stony earth, rooting me in place. I was here, my feet solidly on the ground. I was alive. Breathe in. Breathe out.

  Then, I shadow-leapt to the entrance of the Cailleach Tower. The oak door stood open, and I crossed inside.

  The silk gown brushed against my legs as I walked. I wasn’t used to wearing such delicate fabrics, but I liked the way the dress draped over my body. Even better, I liked imagining what the new Grand Master’s face would look like when he saw me in it.

  I smiled to myself as I crossed into the Great Hall.

  The last time I’d been in here, I’d been standing over an execution block, while Maddan smirked at me, awaiting my demise.

  Aengus, Melusine, and the others lined either side of the hall, waiting to see me knighted.

  Ruadan sat in the rocky throne on the dais, and a silver crown gleamed on his head.

  Baleros might have the mist army, but Ruadan had the crown and the blessing of Emain. Now Ruadan ruled London’s Institute of the Shadow Fae.

  And just as I’d imagined, his eyes bored right into me, drinking in the sight of the thin, silky gown. A smile curled my lips. He might be the ruler here, but I had my own sort of power over him, and I wanted to see how far I could push that.

  I’d never wanted to be a spell-slayer, never imagined myself as an enforcer of arbitrary laws. But now, as I walked deeper into the hall before Ruadan, a thrill washed over me.

  Now I belonged somewhere.

  Ruadan rose as I crossed to him, and he drew his sword. Just before the dais, I knelt on the stone floor. This time, I didn’t mind kneeling.

  Ruadan stood over me, speaking in Ancient Fae. I couldn’t understand what he was saying, but as he spoke, starry magic whirled around me. For just a moment, I felt myself falling again, but I focused on the feel of my knees and shins on the stone floor.

  As Ruadan tapped the sword on my shoulder, a crackling power imbued my muscles. At last, he commanded me to rise. I stood, looking into his violet eyes. I’m pretty sure I saw pride glinting there.

  Then, he leaned down, whispering into my ear, “What are you, Arianna?”

  I smiled at him, then turned to walk away.

  Let’s see how well The Wraith liked the silent treatment.

  Part III

  Court of Night

  Court of Dreams

  Shadow Fae—Book Four

  C.N. Crawford

  Chapter 66

  I stared at the gruesome offering, bile rising in my throat. Someone had nailed a human arm to one of the exterior doors of the Institute—driven the spike right through the palm, onto the wooden door.

  It smelled like a fresh kill. Sticky blood oozed down the severed elbow, dripping onto the pavement. Frowning at it, I clutched the straps of my bug-out bag. Touching severed body parts wasn’t my favorite way to spend the day.

  And yet I had to move the thing, because behind the hand, a blank piece of paper hung on the door. A note, probably? Given the method of delivery, I could only assume it was important, and probably not something nice like a thank-you card.

  Grimacing, I pulled at the nail. My stomach churned at the faint slithering sound it made, my hand brushing against the cold flesh. Thick blood coated the tips of my fingers. When I had pulled the nail all the way out, the arm fell to the pavement with a wet thud.

  I snatched the paper and flipped it over, finding a letter scrawled in blood.

  As I read its contents, my pulse pounded in my ears.

  Arianna,

  Tomorrow night, deliver Ruadan to me. He should wait for me outside the Institute’s gate, unarmed and wearing iron cuffs. Fail, and London will suffer the Great Mortality once more. In case you think I don’t possess that power, I’ve already started with a small population on the Isle of Dogs.

  I’ll wait till nine at night tomorrow, then everyone dies.

  And Arianna, my darling. If you fail me, I’ll let everyone know what you really are. How long will you survive, then?

  Love,

  Baleros

  My stomach dropped, and my hands were shaking so hard I could barely rip the note into pieces.

  No one could see this letter. No one.

  Frantically, I tore bits off the paper. One piece after another, I shredded it.

  I’ll let everyone know what you really are.

  Fear had gripped my throat. What if someone glued the scraps back together? I shifted my bug-out bag off my shoulders and rummaged around until I found a lighter.

  Should have started with the burning.

  Crouching on the ground, I brushed the bits of paper into a small pile over the stone, then held a flame over them. I had a hard time igniting them, and I burnt my thumb.

  It wasn’t enough that he’d stolen an entire mist army from the Institute. It wasn’t enough that he’d imprisoned Ruadan’s mother, the Queen of Emain. None of that was enough power for him. He had to have everything, didn’t he? He had to have it all.

  Baleros’s twenty-third law of power: Use terror to control your subjects.

  He knew me well enough to understand what would terrify me: the truth. What if Ruadan saw this?

  I stuck my burnt finger in my mouth, sucking on it. Then, I leaned down again toward the small pile, igniting it from the top. A tendril of smoke curled around me.

  Baleros might have a flair for the dramatic, but my old gladiator master did not make idle threats. If he said he was going to kill people, he meant it. If he said he’d reveal the truth about me, he meant that, too. He wanted the World Key on Ruadan’s chest, and he wouldn’t stop until he got it.

  Pieces of paper stuck to my blood-smudged fingers. What, exactly, was the Great Mortality? Whatever it was, it didn’t sound like a wonderful t
ime. It sounded like a lot of death.

  Still, I’d give up my own arm before I handed over Ruadan in chains. Not only had I grown attached to the giant, brooding demigod, but I wasn’t about to present Baleros with all the power he wanted in the form of the World Key.

  I exhaled. I had only a few more pieces to ignite, now, on the cobbles. I singed my fingers again and cursed under my breath.

  “What the hells are you doing?” A deep voice sent my pulse racing.

  Slowly, I turned to find to find Aengus glaring down at me. As one of the Institute’s most powerful Knights, his steady, green gaze sometimes unnerved me. Plus, he didn’t really like me.

  “What’s the problem?” I tried to keep my tone light. Nothing to see here, folks.

  “You’re crouching next to a severed human arm,” he said. “Burning tiny scraps of paper. I’d venture to say it’s not a typical way to spend a Tuesday morning.”

  I rose, trying to smile. Stick as close to the truth as possible. “I found a note along with the arm. I didn’t want it to create more panic than necessary.” The panic, in this case, was my own, but Aengus didn’t need to know that. “The humans in this city have been freaking out for weeks,” I added. “Baleros has been terrorizing London with his army. No reason to make them panic anymore.”

  “What did the note say?” He wasn’t letting this point go.

  “It was from Baleros, of course. We have until nine tomorrow night to hand over Ruadan in chains, or Baleros unleashes the Great Mortality. And apparently he already started on the Isle of Dogs.”