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Olaf shouted positions, yet it seemed wherever the captain tried to place his Rave, they were attacked by more fae from the depths.
With each blow, and each failed attempt to draw them back, it seemed as though sea folk were lying in wait and knew just where to bleeding strike. Sea fae were menacing, almost endless, and they knew the blade much like the Rave.
Sea fae weapons were different. Curved swords that looked damn near rusted or made of rough-cut bone that sliced through the wall of warriors.
My muscles ached from clenching, but I held fast to Calista’s side as a few slippery fae, damp and sodden, shoved through the Rave. They rushed at the warriors lined at the fortress walls.
They aimed for us.
Calista ducked a strike from a bulky fae. She rammed the point of her knife in his thigh while she was tucked low.
A man with pasty skin and gold rings in his ears lunged at me. His sword struck the edge of mine. True to my word, I was no trained Rave. I knew a few maneuvers from my time as a Rave youth in Riot Ode’s court. My skill with the blade, fair or horrid, came from practice in the darkness of my solitude.
No mistake, it was sloppy and disjointed against the fae. His blade caught my arm; the sick slice of steel in flesh turned my stomach. I pulled back, not wasting time to inspect the wound, and jabbed my sword into his middle.
The fae dodged. He spun quickly and lobbed a downward strike for my neck.
I narrowly avoided the blow but managed to snag the point of my sword against his hipbone.
“Earth fae,” he hissed and hurried back to realign his steps. “You don’t stand a chance. So few numbers against the dark one? Against the whole of the Ever?”
My lips curled. “That dark one you follow so willingly, did he tell you how a few children nearly sent him to the Otherworld?”
For a moment, a bit of confusion flashed through the bright crimson eyes of the fae. He sneered in the next breath. “I suppose I’ll have to gnaw on a few of those young ones to make sure it never happens again.”
He sliced his blade against mine again. Calista’s shriek pieced my heart. Beside me she backstepped swiftly, blood on her lip. The fae against her was swift. But so was she. One knife struck the man’s shoulder, the other his belly.
She let out a furious cry as she ripped it free and finished the bastard with a rough thrust to the soft point of his throat where his voice would be. He went silent.
The sea fae in front of me nicked my thigh. I kicked his ankle and shoved him back. Calista sprinted for us and in the next move had one knife rammed into his ribs.
The sea fae roared his pain and spat at her face, stumbling away. “You keep your bitches here? Weak.”
“Well, this bitch just stabbed you,” she said, giving him a cruel wink.
Blood boiled in my brain. I didn’t think. The movements came damn near rote. In one hand, I twisted the sword point down and shoved it deep through the fae’s back until the sharp point emerged through his lower belly.
He gulped through a fountain of blood spilling over his lips. His body slammed against my spine when I wrenched the blade free. I kicked him off once he slumped forward and watched the blood pool beneath his corpse.
Calista’s shoulders heaved. Her eyes burned in a new kind of rage. But a shadow crossed her features when she took in the attack. More ships. More fae.
We were fighting a losing battle.
I held out my hand, ready to face the end with her at my side. I didn’t know why our song did not work. I didn’t know why fate had abandoned us. Perhaps it was punishment for what we unraveled so long ago, the fate we had manipulated.
I suppose it didn’t matter anymore. So long as I left this world for the next with her beside me, I would accept our destiny to love endlessly in the great hall of the gods.
Chapter31
The Storyteller
I was goingto die here. Odd, but there was a peace within me. What I’d feared most, the short life of a storyteller, didn’t seem so daunting. Perhaps it was because now I knew the truth—I’d died before. It wasn’t so terrible.
Perhaps it was the peace knowing Silas was at my side at long last.
The thought brought a swell of comfort. I’d walk with him to the Otherworld. Truth be told, it was almost exciting. I wondered who would greet us first. My parents? Stefan? Maybe some of those my other royals had lost along the way.
Shoulder to shoulder with Silas, bloodied knives in hand, I rushed for the shore.
