Page 168

The Illusionist

For a long pause, we did not move. My arms remained encircled around Tait’s shoulders, holding him like it might all slip away should I let go.

Then, slowly, he turned to face me. The corner of his mouth twitched. It quirked. His grin spread bright and endless. Tait tugged my mouth to his. I sighed. All the pain, the fear, the unknowns bled off my body.

I sank into the kiss like it was the first touch all over again.

His brow pressed into mine; one of his hands cupped my cheek. “You need to know, Mira Sekundär, the thought of you has become my every reason to survive. I have loved you since the first moment I saw you chopping at the head of a man who once haunted my days.”

I laughed, tears falling over my lashes. “Am I your hero then, Hearttalker?”

“Woman, you’re my damn soul.” He kissed me again like he wanted me to taste every word he’d spoken.

We returned to the village hand in hand, Tait holding Lena’s head at his side. He refused to leave it with her body, and I was beginning to believe he truly saw every head he offered me as a gift dripping in romance.

No doubt, I would one day have a mantel adorned in all manner of skulls.

Smoke clotted the sky, painting the dusk in ash. Sea Folk wandered down lines of dead mortals, pillaging their corpses for blades, coin, and rings.

Seableeder leaned over the body of Osatt and barked before cutting out the silver tooth in the back of the dead man’s smile.

“Sewell.” I hurried to where Celine Tidecaller scolded her father for being reckless.

The man held a wrapped wrist against his chest and waved his other hand, trying to shoo his girl away. “Cease your sharp bites, tideling.”

Celine huffed. “I will scold you, old man. Gods, you reveal your name and suddenly you imagine you’ve returned to your younger turns, ready to slaughter half the Ever.”

Sewell winked at me. “Bloody days and sweet seas.”

“Yes, I’m certain those days were glorious,” I said, “but I fear I agree with Celine. You were injured not so long ago in the battle for the Ever. Too many strikes, Sewell.”

The galley cook blew out his lips, then glared at Tait. “Let hares and tides speak bile, little eel?”

“Sewell.” Tait held up a palm. “There’s nothing I can do to save you from them. You’re on your own.”

That earned him a deep hiss from the former Bone Lord.

I propped my hands on my hips. “You were struck, Sewell. But did you at least get the better strike?”

Sewell grinned a little viciously. “No new tales off his tongue, little hare.”

For dead men could not speak.

Celine continued to chastise her father, leaving us to trudge through the lower village. Dozens of sea witches and sirens kept low hums on their voices, lulling the mortal villagers into a sort of trance.

Wise. It proffered more time to tend to the wounded and fallen without risk of a blind attack from a bold smith or carpenter.

“Folk of Eilifur, you will be taken to the Ever Kingdom. There, you will stay among the fae folk until we figure what we shall do with you.” Livia, hands behind her back, strode back and forth around the square, her voice elevated. She looked like a bleeding warrior queen with blood splattered over her face, braids wild around her shoulders. “Join us and you will see how long mortals live among us. Even mortals have become queens of fae.”

Bloodsinger leaned against a wall, his heated stare tracking his queen like he might end the whole of her speech and hide away with her on the ship while forcing us to wait them out.

The moment we approached, Erik straightened.

“Cousin.” Tait cleared his throat. “A little impulsive to bring an entire fleet to find me.”

Erik’s jaw ticked. “It wasn’t for you. It’s been much too long since we had a good plunder. Besides, I wouldn’t be able to tolerate her”—the Ever King tilted his head at me—“if I didn’t at least attempt to retrieve you.”

I heaved a sigh of annoyance. “You both are the most insufferable fools I’ve ever bleeding known. Is it so difficult to admit, just once, you care if the other lives or dies?”