Chapter 53 The Serpent
CHAPTER FIFTY-THREE
THE SERPENT
Longships greeted us on the opposing side of the Chasm. Sleek and narrow, filled with Rave and cheers once the hull of the Ever Ship, the blue sails of Gavyn’s ship, and the ashen canvas of Narza’s vessel broke through the earth fae seas.
Until the new vessel of the House of Blades was fashioned, Celine took to the Ever Ship as always.
With Sewell, Celine took charge of keeping watch on Skadi. I did not yet trust the woman to remain alone in the Ever. Eldirard had alliance treaties with his name and his granddaughter at our mercy. He was not a threat, but the woman—I did not understand her, and until I did, she was a threat.
Skadi had been rather indifferent about sailing through the Chasm. Then again, she was indifferent on most things. She slid the woolen hood from her cloak off her silver hair and took in the shoreline, not a flinch to her face.
When the scaled, crimson sails of the Ever Ship broke the surface, horns sounded and folk sprinted to the docks and beaches and into the shallows.
Since he’d stepped foot on my ship, I’d never seen the earth bender so alight with anticipation. I wouldn’t have been stunned if Valen Ferus tossed himself over the rails to swim ashore.
When he took to a rowboat, that was precisely what he did the instant pale hair came into sight.
Livia drew in a sharp breath, still on deck, watching as her mother gathered the skirt of her blue gown in one hand and flung herself into Valen’s arms before he fully emerged from the tides.
He fell backward, holding his queen, devouring her, unbothered by the ever flow of waves splashing over their heads.
Livia swiped a tear off her cheek.
“Songbird?” I touched the small of her back.
“I once thought I’d never see them again.” A flash of guilt tightened in my chest, but faded when Livia hugged my waist. “No regrets, Bloodsinger. I am in my homelands, but my home is beneath the sea.”
I pressed a kiss to the side of her head, stomach tight when Tait called for us to join the boats ashore.
We’d intentionally stayed back, not wishing to intrude on reunions. There had been battles fought side by side, but tensions could still be felt, still be tasted, like soured pomes.
“Livia!” Elise Ferus screamed in the shallows once we were halfway to the shore.
Valen had Prince Rorik tossed over his shoulder, leaving his wife to claw through the tides. Like her father, Livia readied to leap over the rail. I held out a palm, calling back the currents, giving more solid ground for them to run.
Livia sobbed, calling out for her mother. Elise was slightly shorter, but she cradled Livia’s head to hers, trembling. Over and over again, the Night Folk queen would pull back, stroke her daughter’s tears, laughing through her own, then strangle her in another embrace.
“Ready for this?” Tait whispered.
“Not at all.”
I landed ankle deep in the tides. Tait was at my shoulder. Eventually, Celine stood at the other with Stormbringer, her father, and the elven princess. Behind us, sirens and singers, merfolk and witches, Narza, even Tavish, awaited an invitation to join the earth fae ashore.
Aleksi was caught between two men. I looked away at the sight of the man I’d once saved during the war. That was an interaction I’d make good effort to avoid. It wasn’t much better when I turned only to observe the twins greeting their folk.
Jonas and Sander were carved from their father, broad and tall, but I knew the blood-haired queen between them. A woman who’d carried a broken boy from his torture.
I’d avoid her too.
“Why is that one looking at me?” Tait mumbled.
True enough, as Mira’s mother held her daughter, a man, inked with a raven tattoo on the side of his neck, glared at my cousin. I could not tell if it was a look of bewilderment or disdain.
“Bloodsinger!” A pack of young fae, led by Prince Rorik, barreled at the line of sea fae.
Gods. Littles.
The prince, his dark eyes narrowed in determination, shoved a girl at his side. Her long, cinnamon braids flung about her cheeks before she stumbled face first into the water. Rorik snickered a little wickedly until he, too, tripped in front of me. I caught him under the arm.
“Prince.”
“Bloodsinger.” He spluttered, wiping saltwater out of his eyes. “Can I . . . can I steer the ship? Don’t let Alva, but can I?”
“I asked first!” The spindly girl had recovered, storming toward the prince, with more young fae at her back.
“Shut it, Alva!” Rorik snapped. “I’m gonna steer it first. Bloodsinger said.”
“Rorik.” Livia gripped her brother by the tunic, pulling him back, and took hold of my hand. “Leave the king alone.”
The boy groaned. “I just wanna steer the ship.”
My songbird looked to me, a glisten on her lashes. “You look uneasy, Serpent. Where is the aura of the masked man who stole me away?”
“I’m afraid he had a run in with your father’s axes and your mother’s threats.”
Livia tugged on my hand. “Come.”
Tait shook out his hands, saw to his pocket watch, then nodded. “No threat.”
“What did you think you’d see, Heartwalker?” Livia shook her head and led us toward the shore. “There is no danger here. Not anymore.”
My free arm was pulled back. Rorik, a cunning look written on his face, yanked hard enough I bent at the waist.
“The ship?” he whispered. “You’re gonna let me, right?”
“We will sail. When we do, be ready to meet the wind.”
The boy’s lip curled, then he sped away, chasing the other littles in a race back to the shore. A shore lined in warriors, kings and queens, and few smiles.
Strange how much had changed when the earth bender stepped forward and I felt a bit of relief crack the pressure on my chest. Valen looked to me, then swept an arm toward the knolls that rolled in front of the fort.
“Sea fae, I am told we have a feast awaiting. You’re welcome at our table.”
Raised to be a brutal king, then left to my own devices at such a young age, it was not much of a shock that kingly behavior was not my instinct.
Neither was it Celine’s.
She shoved through the lines, nudging the Night Folk king as she went. “About time. My boots are soaked, and I’m rather starved, Earth Bender.”
Livia clung to my arm and led us after the new Lady of Blades.
The great hall was filled much the same as it had been when we’d stowed away, but with less venom and blades.
Cheers boomed, rattling the iron chandelier over the tables, and horns lifted when Valen and Elise first entered. The Night Folk king was promptly surrounded by his people. Hands clapped on forearms, backs, and shoulders.
I clung to Livia’s hand, feeling like a damn sod, afraid to release her until we were told to find seats at the tables scattered across the hall.
I could’ve kissed her, deep and feral in front of all her folk, when Livia settled us beside the royals of her realms, but also next to Sewell, Tait, and the other sea fae nobles.
I did not want a line to divide us, but even still, I was grateful to be evenly matched.
Halfway through the meal of spiced roots, a gamey beast, and pickled herring, Mira’s father, the raven tattooed king, clapped the edge of the table and pointed at Tait. “That’s it. I remember why I know this fae. Banishment.”
By his side, Mira’s mother chuckled. “You’re just now recognizing him, Ari?”
The queen had hair long and thick like her daughter’s, only darker, and bore a few scars like mine that peeked from the neckline of her gown.
“Bleeding gods.” Tait blew out a long breath, flexing his fingers until several knuckles cracked.
Princess Mira seemed satisfied with Tait’s sudden loss of color to his face but looked at the raven king. “Daj, you know the cousin of the Ever King? I never heard you crossed paths before.”
“We’ve met.” The raven king drummed his fingers. “He’s the boy I personally banished back to the sea. Got much thicker in the arms. Boy was nothing but bones and a bit of flesh when last we met.”
“Wait, King Ari banished you, Heartwalker?” Aleksi’s eyes widened. “Ari, you’ve never said that, and you love a good boast.”
“That I do, Alek. Afraid it was a rather frantic time, and memory of my grandeur slipped my mind.” The king sneered and made a point to remove a serrated dagger made of bone and gold. “Isn’t that right, Harald’s son.”
“My name is Heartwalker,” Tait grumbled.
“Ari,” Mira’s mother said, a sigh in her voice. “No threatening.”
“Threatening? I am intimidating, which I will do to my heart’s content, especially when we have a damn lovely girl and there are princess snatchers about.”
“Daj.” Mira’s voice trembled, not from unease but from a muffled laugh. “They brought us back.”
“Bloodsinger returned his snatched princess. How do I know Harald’s son would do the same?”
Tait blanched. “I’m not here to snatch anyone.”
“Why?” The raven king’s golden eyes narrowed as he leaned closer. “Something wrong with my girl, Harald’s son?”
“What? No.” Tait’s face burned in a wash of red. “I didn’t say that.”
“So, you would snatch her?”
“No,” Tait shifted on his seat, eyes wide. “Gods.”
In a bout of decent timing, the earth bender banged a horn against the table, drawing eyes down the table as he stood.
“It has been rather trying these last months. I cannot express my gratitude to you all for standing beside us in the search for Liv.” He smiled at his daughter, then studied his horn of ale.
“If anyone would have said we’d be seated here with sea fae—the Ever King—without bloodshed, I might’ve thought you mad.
But I’ve had the honor of fighting beside folk I thought were enemies, only to be shown their devotion, their bonds to their people.
The same bonds that run through us. I am proud to sit with you all. ”
Horns clacked on the tables across the hall, loud enough I could not hear anything else.
Later, while Livia was passed around the royals, I was cornered by the Night Folk queen.
“Bloodsinger.”
“Queen.” I dipped my chin.