Chapter 14
The Serpent
The sand was warm under my back. One arm tucked behind my head and I looked up at the velvet sky.
Nightfire and his lost lover glimmered. Voidwalker burned brighter tonight, like he wanted me to see his brilliance over others.
As the one star who traveled beyond realm boundaries, Voidwalker could see every sky. He could see the earth fae. Her.
I thought the strange heat that flickered under my ribs when the reckless little princess came close would fade after being trapped behind the Chasm, but it didn’t. Something burned ever deeper, thoughts of those sea eyes of the earth bender’s fearless heir plagued me.
I could not tell if I was disgusted or obsessed.
I let the charm fall to my bare chest and forced thoughts of the strange girl away. It was not as though I’d ever see her again. I was the failed Ever King, forced to keep his buried kingdom thriving after a damn war.
“Iron thoughts, little eel.”
I lifted my head. “Sewell.”
Gavyn’s father stood a few paces away, arms folded, a small smile on his features. “Melt the iron.” He tapped his ear. “Always good to snatch a barb or two.”
I scoffed. He called heavy, burdensome thoughts iron. All he meant was I could talk if I desired. It wasn’t common for a king to profess burdens. We were meant to hold them. But Sewell knew that well enough and still asked.
The man sat beside me and rested his elbows on his knees. “Keep your iron. I’ll give mine. Thought my eel sank to the bottom in the seas of wolves and foxes.” Sewell faced me and clapped my shoulder. “Brightest sun flashed when the eel surfaced.”
I snorted, a bit of the fog faded. “You weren’t that thrilled to learn I was alive, Sewell. Bet you tried to take the throne.”
He freed a rough laugh. “A tiny chime perhaps.”
“Ah, you considered it longer, old man.”
Sewell fell into silence for a time. “Little eel.”
I lifted my gaze. For a moment he was the Bone Lord again, stern and gentle, wise and playful.
Sewell rested a hand on my shoulder. “The heir is not like the sire. Seas answer to eels. It is right.”
My brow furrowed. I sat upright. “You say I am not like Thorvald, and you speak it like it is a good thing. You are the only one who thinks such things, Sewell. To all others, I am not right for the Ever. I am a failure. I am weak. Broken.”
I held up my scarred arms.
Sewell listened to me rant, nodding as though he understood. “Elder eels kept the course and my days turned to darkest night. A little eel takes the helm, and two tidelings see light on the horizon.”
My mouth parted. I could hardly believe what he was saying, hardly believe he meant it. Ever Kings of the past never changed, never altered the Ever, and because of it, Sewell lost his mate, his words, he could not even acknowledge his son and daughter.
He wanted me to change the Ever. He believed I brought a brighter future for Gavyn and Celine.
I let my chin drop. “I’m going to disappoint you, Sewell.”
“Lies on the tongue, little eel.”
I chuckled. “I suppose time will tell.”
Sewell tapped the silver charm on my chest. “From foxes and wolves?”
“Aye. Stole it.”
The former Bone Lord lifted his brow, like he did not really believe me.
After a long silence, Sewell clapped my shoulder again and rose to his feet. “Trust the insides, little eel. Hold steady and the course will fill the right sails.”
He believed if I trusted my instincts, I’d be able to lead the Ever. A farce, a pointless hope from a man who wanted to believe in me, but it was a foolish notion. All I could do for the Ever was help it survive. Not progress, not thrive.
Alone, I curled my palm around the silver bird. I lifted my chin and glared at the condescending glimmer of Voidwalker, like the constellation mocked me and my cruel fate.
“Tell her when you see her, there are no worlds where songbirds and serpents play from sunup to sundown.” My jaw pulsed. I unfurled my fingers. The sharp points of the swallow’s wings had pierced through my flesh and beads of poison blood stained the silver. “There never will be.”
The tower seemed more pungent than typical—all piss and unwashed skin.
Blister Poppy kept hovering over us, inspecting our healing injuries. Gavyn, still battered and bruised from his journey through the Chasm, seemed ready to kiss the boneweaver’s feet every time she brought one of her herb salves for his wounds.
“House Skurk’s been causing trouble since you been gone,” Poppy grumbled. “Poachin’ herbs and other things straight off our barges.”
I let out a hiss. “Lucien or his brothers?”
“Ack. What does it matter?” said Poppy. “They’re all bleeding pirates, the lot of them.”
True enough. No doubt House Skurk would continue to be a thorn in the sides of every damn isle in the Ever.
But until we caught them in the act, I had little time to go hunt them down.
Lord Hesh demanded reparations for his lost men.
Joron insisted I needed a mate to secure the line or I’d be usurped.
Lady Narza kept silent, merely sending a missive with a sea witch courtier to inform the Ever King she was pleased I still lived.
Her underwhelming endearment was shared by many.
Most folk avoided me. Not that I gave them a chance before I snarled and shouted commands or dismissals.
The only folk who earned gentler words were Gavyn, Celine, Sewell, and perhaps Blister Poppy.
If I tried to shout at her, she was not a woman who’d stay silent about it.
Tait…we did not speak much. Perhaps it was an improvement.
With the death of Harald, he was given the title of first mate.
But in truth I did not know how to speak to my cousin, nor if I even wanted to.
We’d been imprisoned in the earth fae realms. Had different interactions with different kings and queens.
We spoke of it to no one.
He did not ask if I killed Harald. I wouldn’t answer anyway.
I looked at where my cousin kept to himself in the corner of the tavern. Almost like it was his habit to stand in silence, the way Harald always demanded it of him.
He wasn’t the same after we returned. I suspected something happened to him after he entered the cells of the earth fae until we were banished on the shores.
In a moment of madness, not more than two days before, I nearly inquired into his wellbeing. If I’d done such a thing, he’d ask about mine. One thing was for certain, Tait Heartwalker did not need to know what violent things I was planning and how much of it involved him.
There was vengeance to be had, a bit of blood still to spill from the cruelty left behind by Harald Songtaker and those who’d joined him.
Many who’d engaged in that cruelty still lived.
My cousin didn’t need to know, but I had grand plans to see to it those who supported Harald and his wickedness would not live for much longer.
I propped my cheek on one fist on the table and twirled the twine of my charm around my fingers, the silver bird dangling in front of my face.
Why I kept the ugly thing, I didn’t know.
Is that what we are, princess? A serpent and songbird?
I think so.
What a stupid thought. A serpent would devour an innocent bird.
“Looking to trade it?”
I lifted my gaze. A young man, likely a turn or two older than Tait, pointed at my charm. “Hear the market’s about to open. Lookin’ to trade it?”
“Oi, little rat.” One of the men from the Ever Ship swatted at the boy. “You be speakin’ to the king. We don’t be tradin’, we be takin’.”
The boy laughed. “Think I don’t know my bleeding king, you sod. Just thought he’d like to see how the market works for once. You lot keep him from living and all.”
I swallowed. True enough. Even with Harald gone, I was left to rot in the palace, left to heal what broken pieces of the Ever remained from a war we lost. Alone.
“What do you say, Bloodsinger?” The newcomer turned to Gavyn. “You too, Lord Bonerotter.”
Gavyn perked up. “I’m game for the market.”
The new boy grinned, but he looked nowhere save for me.
“This isn’t for trade.” I pocketed my songbird charm and narrowed my gaze. “What’s your name?”
The boy held out one hand. “Bonekeeper. Larsson Bonekeeper.”