Hazel
“Did he hurt you?” Warden growls when he finally releases my lips. “The Thegn?”
He’s running his hands over my body and shoving his fingers into my hair
“No, unless you call bringing me to this crappy place and letting the Shellycoat dump me next to some dead fish.”
“This place smells like dead fish,” a creature standing behind Warden says.
Before I can stop it, the sword is pointed directly at it. The thing has dark-red eyes and feather-like antennae on the top if its head, which twist towards me. It wears a strange, thick cloak draped over its shoulders and which drags on the floor.
It reaches out and touches the very tip of the sword.
“Interesting.” He looks at Warden. “Did you know your female carries the Sword of Spindlestone?”
“What…who is this?” I say in a half-crazed whisper, my nerves at their very edge.
“This is Linton. He is the Bluecap who is mated to your sister.”
“This is what my sister is mated to?” I gaze at the Bluecap who is now inspecting a rickety set of drawers with bow legs.
He’s handsome, in his own way, I suppose. Not sure I could get past the blood-red eyes, personally. But then Kaitlyn always had eclectic tastes.
“I have filled your sister’s belly. She is to birth very soon,” Linton says without looking at me. “I’ve come to get you before it happens or she says I’ll have to sleep in the spare room, whatever that is.” He pulls out one of the drawers and it disintegrates in his hand.
He gives the cloak a flap, and I realise it’s not a cloak at all, but a set of wings. My sister is mated to a mothman.
All of a sudden, I feel a little woozy, and I’m grateful Warden still has hold of me.
“I’m going to kill the Thegn first,” Warden says. “Before we can return to your castle and reunite our mates with each other.”
“You won’t be doing any such thing.” A deep growl comes from the corner of the room. The corner where I thought there was nothing but a mess of clothing and ancient weed.
Now, the Shellycoat stands there, the items pooled around his feet. Was he in the heap? Did he emerge out of it? I can’t possibly tell.
Warden snarls at him and Linton flares his wings with a hiss.
My sword twitches but doesn’t seem to want to do any damage.
“I knew you’d be involved somewhere, Beal,” Warden spits. “You’ve never been able to keep away if power and magic are involved.”
“I was the one who got you away from Long Meg,” Beal growls, his shell coat rattling. “Or did you forget?”
“I recall you trying to take my mate from me,” Warden responds.
Linton growls louder. “No one takes mates from the mated,” he says.
“Gods! Don’t tell me this creature”—Beal stares, disbelieving, at Linton—“is mated.”
“I am,” Linton replies. “I have use for my spicket after all,” he adds, unnecessarily and proudly.
Beal makes a face before glancing back at Warden.
“You, of all the creatures, dishonoured yourself. The Yeavering should not give you a mate.”
“That’s where you are wrong, Shellycoat.” Warden squares his shoulders. “Because my mate is from the Night Lands, a place you hardly acquitted yourself.”
“I did what I needed to do,” Beal retorts. “We all did.”
“Even I only did what I was forced to do,” Linton rasps. “And as soon as I could, I made sure the Faerie were my targets.”
Beal huffs at him. “All of you think you were better than me. But you were not. I went because I refused to be coerced. I fought because I enjoyed the fight, and I have no qualms in admitting it.”
Water sluices over his body as if it has a mind of its own, pooling and beading across his chest, bare save for a single iridescent string. The strange trousers he wears glitter in the light from the big open windows. He bares his teeth, and it’s like looking a shark right in the mouth.
Not advisable.
“I know,” Warden intones. “And you will face your justice soon enough. But for now, stand aside while I deal with the Thegn and then take my mate from this terrible place.”
“I can’t let you,” Beal says. “The Thegn owes me, and until his debt is paid, he is under my protection.”
A shiver of ice goes up my spine. What I thought was the relationship between the Thegn and Beal is, apparently, not it. Instead there is something worse. Two terrible creatures vying for the top spot.
Which is when it hits me.
“The throne,” I say out loud. “It’s yours, isn’t it?”
Beal moves his gaze from Warden to me, sharp teeth included.
“This is my sea fortress, little female. The Thegn may believe he can try it out for size, but he will not take it from me.”
“Whatever it is the Thegn owes you, it cannot be in any way similar to what it took from me,” Warden snarls. “I won’t ask you to stand aside again.”
Beal doesn’t move. Instead he seems to grow larger, and the sound of rushing water fills my ears.
“This is my fortress, Brag,” he snarls. “You have no power here.”
A hand plants itself on my chest, pushing me back at Linton. And before I can do or say anything, he and Beal are grappling in a tangle of limbs and roars.
Linton drags me out of the way and up against the main wall. He produces a long, thin knife and, his red eyes concentrated on the fight unfolding in front of us, picks at his sharp teeth.
“Aren’t you going to do anything?” I ask him.
“You’re the one with the sword,” Linton says. “And I think Warden’s enjoying himself.”
There is a crash as the pair land on one of the rickety sideboards and it splinters into matchsticks. Beal snarls, rearing back, a large piece of wood embedded in his side. He pulls it free and attempts to stab Warden with the wet end.
Warden rolls to one side, avoiding the blow, before slamming his weight into Beal’s legs, sending him crashing down to the floor, raising a cloud of dust. Tentacles swirl from him as he grows larger again. They grasp at Warden’s limbs.
“Why isn’t he turning into his Brag form?” I fire at Linton.
The mothman shrugs. “Maybe he doesn’t think the floor will hold him.”
I look down. Unlike the rest of this place, the floor is not stone flags, not here. It’s long wooden boards which are almost as ancient and crumbling as the furniture in this place.
“Warden!” I stomp my foot down. “The Dark Gibbet!”
He turns his head, a tentacle wrapped around his throat. His eyes meet mine. I stamp again on the floor.
“The Dark Gibbet,” he repeats, his voice strangled.
In a swirl of dust, debris, tentacles, and hooves, Warden transforms. The floor creaks.
It groans and then it gives way. I raise my arms, expecting to go with it, but instead something has hold of me and I’m held in the air as the entire place falls.
I look up to see I’m being held by Linton, his huge wings flapping hard, an amused expression on his face.
We are engulfed in a huge wave of dust and debris.
I feel like we are moving, but without any visible points of reference, I can’t be sure.
Below me, I’m sure I can still hear snarls and growls, along with more destruction.
It’s not clear if the fight is still continuing or the noises are a result of the destruction.
The air clears, and Linton deposits me on the foreshore. The Shellycoat’s fortress rises out of the sand, huge and imposing.
“What are you doing?” I fire at him. “We need to help Warden.”
“We are helping him,” Linton says. “He cannot die, you know that. But we can. By being here, he can do what he needs to do.”
I stare hopelessly back at the fortress. I can’t argue with Linton, but my heart can’t stay still.
Now I have Warden back, I don’t ever want to leave him again.