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I obeyed her word and covered my ears against the sweet song. “Forgive me, but it’s truly impossible to ignore.”
“Well, they sound wretchedly odious if you must know the truth. An awful voice, really.”
“Until one of their male sea singers returns. Tell me if you find it so simple.”
Calista puffed out her lips and rushed for the line of struggling warriors.
“Keep your heads,” she shouted. “Fill your ears with bleeding mud, you sods!”
Shouts riled more creatures of the tides and smaller skiffs and boats, carrying more sea folk. The larger ships had wild sails that cracked and snapped in the sea winds. Folk with blades tight between their teeth climbed on the ropes on the rails, a few started to dangle over the sides, ready to pounce on the land.
The smaller rows of sea folk met rune fire from Forbi and one of her spell casts. The fae screamed when bits of the fire licked up their damp arms, scorching their flesh in deep, pungent wounds.
Deeper in the surf, a fae with stringy and dark hair emerged from the waves. His skin was a soft color, almost bronze in the light, and there was a touch of red to his eyes. A blue scarf covered his head and kept his hair out of his eyes, and his ears were pierced in the lobes all the way to the sharp point of his fae ears.
It seemed, for a moment, that his hellish eyes found me in the tangle of warriors.
He grinned and opened his arms wide. A low, rumbling voice filtered down the row of sea fae in the surf. More voices joined. Beautiful in their own way, but their beauty was a poison, a blight that would destroy this land. Was responding.
In the next moment, waves churned in heavy, violent walls, taller than the shield wall of the Rave. As though the water answered to their voices alone, the song of the sea fae lifted the water over their heads in a massive, curling wall.
“Get back!” Calista screamed.
Olaf echoed the command. I sprinted to Calista’s side, tugging on her arm, drawing her away from the sea wall.
Sea water crashed over the line of Rave. It devoured Forbi’s spell cast. It pummeled a hole through our defenses in one strike.
Water flowed down Raven Row, striking me at the ankles. Sea fae cheered and roared their advances. The ships seemed to catch the winds at the exact moment. Bleeding gods, they kept coming. More thrashing tides, more skiffs, sloops, and multiple-mast ships rose from the dark current of the Chasm.
“Silas.” Calista’s eyes were wide with fear. “Why is our song failing?”
I didn’t know. Seidr was meant to be strong in these moments. King Riot always used his voice to shield his armies except . . . except when Davorin fought against it.
“He’s here,” I said softly. “Somewhere. His glamour will be focused on corrupting the hearts of the Rave. Even if they do not realize it, their hearts will falter and the seidr will not be as strong. The darkness of hate always digs into the light of the heart.”
Calista’s eyes scanned the shore. “I see no sign of him.”
Nor did I. An invisible foe. A power unseen was one we could not fight.
“Little Rose,” I said, voice low, grip tight on the hilt of my blade. I kept my focus ahead. I watched as sea fae tumbled off the sides of their ships and spilled into the water, fierce on the attack. “I need to tell you, whatever happens here—I have loved you all my life.”
“Gods, I hate that. I mean, I love it, but I hate that you’re saying it because you think we’re going to meet the Otherworld.”
“Better to say it than get there without telling you.”
She snorted. It was rough and wet, like she battled a lump in her throat. “I love you, Silas. You’re my Whisper, my comfort in the darkness. I suppose if we meet the gods today, we can cause all manner of havoc there.”
A grin teased my mouth.
Blades and roars lifted from the onslaught of sea fae. The heavy metals of their strangely curved swords collided with the sleek iron and steel of Rave blades. Our warriors were vicious, and held a potent glamour of their own. Some were illusionists and twisted the sea fae with their tricks of the eye. They’d cast grand holes in the ground, drawing a pause in the assault long enough for archers to fill the bellies of the sea folk with their arrows.
Other warriors held abilities that were closer to the Night Folk or the Raven Queen. They could tangle moss off the stones into taut ropes, tripping the fae at their ankles. There, they’d rise with a blade in their spines.
Most Rave were common fae with mere connections to the earth and its gifts. They could compel thoughts, but only briefly, and normally not when their focus was on the battle.
But battle was where the Rave’s strengths truly were revealed. Perhaps they felt the weakening of our song and strengthened, instead, their boldness in the fight.
The strikes of their swords held purpose and aim. They cut at the crooks of necks. Sword points filled the spaces between ribs, slicing into lungs and hearts. The Rave kicked at tender knees, then another would thrust his sword through the backs of throats.
