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Notches were cut into the walls, a sort of storage space of sorts. Vials, rope baskets, and leather pouches filled with savory spices lined every level.
“Get behind the basket,” Gavyn said in a hiss through his teeth. He left me no room to protest before bending and twisting my limbs like I might be made of string. A slow, gentle hum broke the silence before Gavyn formed into a small puddle after pulling a bit of damp from the moss on the stones.
It was rather remarkable how little water he needed to shift into the tides, and no wonder many sea folk held a bit of fear for a seeker.
Steps joined the voices. Heavy and thundering, as though they already stomped over my skull. All my senses were heightened, flashing in heat and cold from one breath to the next. Fear battled with viciousness; panic collided with boldness.
“Said what I said,” came the rasp of a man who’d indulged too much in harsh herb smoke. A painful sounding voice, as though every word took a great deal of effort. “A man came from nowhere, then turned to nothing but water whenever we tried to cut at him.”
Another voice grunted and sniffed. “Any of Idun’svatskain your blood? She brewed a new batch three sunrises ago and—”
“I have my wits, you sod. I’ll prove to you . . .”
I held my breath, holding a hand to my heart as though they might hear the beat against my ribs, when two darkly clad guards hurried past the alcove.
I didn’t emerge from my position until the water on the floor began to swirl and thrash, shaping Gavyn like he was a statue carved from the sea.
“Come, hurry.” He snatched my hand again, tugging me back into the corridor. “We’re on a rocky point. This palace or fort or whatever it is seems to be built half into a mountainside like the palace in the royal city.”
Gavyn urged me to keep my back to the wall and tapped my wrist until I had the point of the dagger outstretched. “Below is a forest. We need to make it to the shore.”
“All right.” I spoke in tight, rough gasps. “I’ve gone through the wood with the elven before. I . . . I think I could guide us again.”
“We may need to draw more blood.” Gavyn paused once we reached the lower step. “You with me, Livia?”
What he meant was, would I be sturdy enough to see this through? I could remain here, letting fear and unease paralyze me until Larsson found me, or I could get far enough out of sight until I could find a way back to Erik.
You are the queen of the Ever. I spun the dagger like my Uncle Tor taught me. “I’m ready.”
Gavyn kicked open the door into an open entryway that would lead outside, and as expected, we were met with new blades.
The guards were few enough we stood a chance to escape, but three men to two remained a barrier we might not cross intact.
“The fae’s gotten loose!” a man shouted.
Steel cut free of sheaths. Elven swords were broad, lined in bronze and silver from hilt to point. Each seemed crafted for its wielder and was as formidable as it was deadly.
Turns sparring my father, my uncles, the first knight of our kingdom had lent me a fair bit of stealth and speed when I lunged at the guard nearest to me. In a lithe motion, he used his thick arm to shield against my strike, knocking my blow to the side. With one hand, the guard gripped my hair and pinned me to the wall. Before the guard took his strike, Gavyn rammed the point through the elven’s spine. The bone lord clapped a hand over the man’s mouth to muffle his cry, then twisted his head with a sick crack.
The guard slumped over, his neck arched at a sharp angle.
I snatched my fallen dagger and hurried after Gavyn as he faded into mist in one breath, only to take shape in the next, directly behind one of the remaining guards.
Without an uttered sound, Gavyn ripped his blade across his throat.
Another man faced me. His eyes locked with mine, amber with skeins of red, like a fiery sky. Almost sea fae, almost earth fae, but the wicked perfection of his jaw, the smooth, sun-darkened tint of his skin, the lustrous shade of his hair, proved he was elven.
I dropped to the ground, level with the thin flap shielding his cock, a spot where leathers from the thighs tied to the guarders over the belly and waist. A place with vulnerabilities. My father, my mother, Sewell, Erik, the ways they’d taught me to be swift and sure with every strike filled my head.
I tilted away from the edge of his sword and thrust the point of my blade into the crevice where leg met body. A splatter of blood burst from the wound, spilling over my fingers.
The guard wailed in agony and dropped to one knee. Steel struck stone in a violent echo once his sword clattered to the ground. I ripped the blade free, and with his head lowered, stabbed the point through the back of his throat.
The guard spluttered. One heartbeat, two, and he slumped face down on the floor.
I scooted away, hot, sticky crimson stained across my nightdress.
“Livia.” Gavyn skidded on his knees in front of me, hands on the skirt. “Yours?”
