Chapter 1 #2
Around me, a few cover their noses. At the other side of the pyre, a girl lurches forward and vomits.
But I press my shoulders tight and bear the sickening stench of melting skin.
Of charring insides. My gaze fixes on their twisting faces, trying to remain strong for them.
Until I notice a Fae at the edge of the pile has shifted.
His arm falls to the side, and the pine needles I placed in his hands flutter along the beach.
“Evaline,” I curse as I rush forward to gather her blessing from the stony ground.
A frozen needle pokes my finger as I shove it back into the dead Fae’s palm. It’s utterly ridiculous to think this will do him any good, but if I stop trying, then what is the point of all this death?
“Get back!” a guard yells from across the beach.
But I can’t. Not yet.
I arrange the Fae’s hands on his chest while flames lick so close that sweat trickles down the back of my neck.
Placing my fingers over his lashes a final time, I move to step back, but as I do, the Fae’s grip on my fingers tightens. His lids fly open, and they’re filled with fire.
Not fire.
Starlight. So bright and pure, it cuts through endless darkness.
“Where are you?”
The whisper on the wind sends a shiver up my spine. My mouth falls open as the fire inches closer, barely kissing the back of my hand. It’s on the verge of burning when strong arms grab me and pull me back.
“Elorie!”
As I’m spun around, I grab my knife and jut it upward, aiming for the throat. I’m not tall or strong, but I’m quick. My blade slices through the air, and Callum snatches my wrist just as my blade nicks his neck, drawing a drop of blood.
“Close one, little human.” He hitches an eyebrow.
Guards start to inch closer, and he shakes his head, waving them off and pulling the blade from my fingers.
“Callum, gods, I almost killed you.”
“You barely nicked me.” He swipes his thumb over the already healing cut, holstering my knife. “You’re getting better. Quicker.”
“I’ve been practicing.”
“Good.” He stands tall, towering over me as all Fae do. “Now explain what you’re doing.”
His voice is colder than it was a moment ago, and I remember where I am.
What I saw.
My gaze finds the Fae in the pile, but his eyes are closed, and his face is half gone as the fire consumes him. I’m imagining things again.
“It was nothing.” I shake my head, turning away from the pile of burning bodies. “His blessing fell, so I was fixing it.”
“We both know that’s not what I’m talking about.” Callum’s eyes narrow.
His Crown Guard armor adds width to his already broad shoulders. The wind whips through his chin-length, nearly black hair. It blows back off his face, revealing the tight clench of his strong jaw.
As if being immortal and lethal aren’t enough, the Fae are larger than most humans and blindingly gorgeous. It’s something I’m reminded of every time I’m this close to Callum, and I’m forced to crane my neck all the way back to look at his beautiful face.
Gods, his lips are perfect. I bet they would be soft if he lowered them to mine.
“Let’s go.” He urges me away from the pyre, snapping me out of those thoughts.
I glance around to see the Guard has started leading the humans back to the village now that the burning has begun. With a final look at the pyre, I offer a farewell before starting the long, cold walk home.
Callum is silent at my side at first. Not unusual with how many people are around us.
Besides the sound of footsteps, the forest is quiet. When I was younger, the trees were alive with noise. Animals skittered. Creatures howled. Birds chirped. It had its own melody, and it was soothing. But now, there’s only silence.
We near the end of the path where the forest parts for the village. As I’ve slowed, others have pushed ahead, thinning the crowd around me and Callum.
Callum leans closer. “You promised you’d stay in the village while I was gone.”
“And you promised you’d stay in the Ley Court for two full turns of the moon.” I glare up at him. “It’s been one.”
The Fae Guard rotates regularly to ensure they don’t suffer the fate of the Beating like the prisoners inevitably will. They take ships between Alyssium and Ruse Village, a small village on the coast of the Ley Court, where they stay long enough to restore the magic in their blood.
Callum always waits too long to leave, pushing the limits of his heart. It’s why he was meant to stay in Ruse Village for two moons before returning this time.
“It’s a good thing I returned when I did, with you running into fires and tempting fate. Is it too much to ask for you to not constantly run toward death?”
“It’s almost as if he doesn’t know you at all.” The island chuckles, and I shake it off.
“Is that your way of saying you like me better alive?” I nudge Callum’s arm, trying to be playful.
“Of course I like you better alive, Elorie.” As annoyed as he sounds, I know he’s telling the truth.
While most of the Guard looks down on humans, Callum has a soft spot for my family. He’s spent a century guarding Alyssium, and in that time, he’s grown close with the humans here. First my grandparents, then my father. Now me.
Although, I suppose he considers me less of a friend and more of a nuisance when I’m always causing him trouble.
“Why are you back so soon, Callum?” We make the final turn into the village just as the first flake of snow lands on my nose.
Villagers disperse toward their homes while the Guard settles into their posts at the edge of the fence line.
“We’re short on guards, so they needed me back.” Callum’s storm-gray eyes avoid mine.
“Don’t lie to me. The Guard has doubled its numbers on Alyssium this past year. If they were short, they wouldn’t have been able to do that.”
“It’s Fae business, Elorie.” He breathes out an annoyed sigh. “There’s nothing for you to worry about.”
“Of course I’m going to worry when your Fae business always inevitably affects us lowly humans.” I glare.
“You’re not lowly. And you know that’s not what I meant.” He drags his hair off his forehead, showing off his strong brows and perfectly chiseled jawline.
If it weren’t for the stiffness in Callum’s shoulders, I might be distracted with how breathtaking he looks tonight as snow quietly falls around him. But his teeth clench, and I sense something heavy on his mind.
I pause, snow thickening as he turns to face me. “There’s been another rebel sighting in the village, hasn’t there?”
“Yes,” he whispers, even if there is no one around to hear us.
“Then let the guard that replaced you deal with it, Callum.” I shake my head. “You’ve already been here too long. The Beating—”
“Is the least of my concerns.” Callum snags my arm and pulls me into an alcove to block us from the falling snow.
“Especially when you ignore me the moment I’m gone.
What did I tell you about leaving the safety of the village, Elorie?
I made sure you had more than enough food before I went back to the Ley Court. ”
“Father can’t withstand another bout of sickness after the last one nearly killed him. He’ll get worse on grain alone.”
Callum knows I’m right, whether he resists it or not. Every sweep of disease through Alyssium draws Father closer to that brink. His already frail body won’t last without nutrients.
“Well, I’m back now. Let me help.”
I pull off my hood, shaking the snow loose to look up at him. “I can take care of my father. You need to help yourself before your heartbeats catch up with both of us. I can’t lose you too.”
The thought has my eyes burning. My ribs aching with every breath.
Death is the only constant on this cold, dead land, and there’s no acclimating. There’s only grief taking one slice at a time until disease isn’t the problem.
The loss of hope is.
Callum steps closer, shielding me from the elements. He smells like the sea breeze. Sunlight from a distant land. His cheeks are brighter than they were last time I saw him, and his eyes flare with the stir of magic.
I’ve often wondered what it’s like to watch him wield it. To see the wind twist and bend to his will. I suppose it’s better to not see some things. It’s hard enough denying this draw to Callum without witnessing the full magnificence of his power.
He squeezes my arm—small but comforting.
“I’ve only returned for a few days. As soon as we find the rebels, I’ll be back in Ruse Village for two full turns of the moon.
But you have to promise me no more pyres.
No more going past the gates. No more recklessness.
It will get you killed. I made a promise to your father—”
“That you’d keep me safe. I know.” I cut him off, fighting the urge to roll my eyes because he’ll just see it as juvenile.
Which is what I am to Callum.
A responsibility. A burden. A girl he promised to look after because of his friendship with my father and his father.
A weak human with a frail body.
His loyalty to my bloodline doesn’t change what I am. A speck of flesh in his very long lifetime.
Once, I thought Callum saw me differently. That he saw me like I see him. But in my twenty-four years, he hasn’t acted on it. Proving I’m nothing more than a chore to him. An annoying human who gets him into trouble every time he sets foot on Alyssium.
Callum reaches for my hood, tugging it up over the crown of my head.
He traces his fingers over the thin strip of fur that lines the edge, framing my face.
His fingers pause to play with a loose strand, twining the silvery-blue tips of my snow-white hair between them.
Blue is an unusual hair color for a human, and a constant reminder of the first death I was responsible for.
My mother fell ill while she was pregnant with me, and all that kept her alive until my birth was an extraordinarily strong tonic laced with morning glories. In the end, it wasn’t enough to save her. But I survived. Only, the tonic left me with strange blue ends to my hair.
Father makes me keep it hidden because he says it will draw unwanted attention from the Fae. I thought that was an exaggeration until I learned the hard way it wasn’t. Now, I’m careful to keep my hair braided and tucked back so it appears to be only white.
“Let’s go.” Callum lets my hair slip through his fingers as he pulls me into the throes of the blizzard.
He’s quiet the rest of the way to my home, but every time I look up at him, I sense so much brewing in his eyes.
I’ve often wondered what it’s like for him to spend centuries watching generations of humans grow old and die.
His homeland is battered by war, but even the constant fight must be better than this.
At least with war, there is hope in winning.
There is the possibility that there will be an end to the battle.
That is, if he survives.
The thought of losing Callum sends a chill through me, so I shove the thought aside and focus on the snow starting to carpet our path. On my frozen toes, slowly numbing like my fingers.
Cold, I’m used to.
Cold, I’ll survive.
Besides the rotating Guard and new prisoners, cold is all that comes to Alyssium.
Slow, frozen death in one form or another.