Page 31 of I Summon the Sea

Three deadly games.

They are supposed to represent the journey of the fae king through the worlds, his origin, and his story of conquest and glory, one trial for each element he had to conquer, fight, and defeat.

Hideous creature.

He crossed over here three hundred years ago, while the world was reeling from the impact of the last Reversal which sent it upside down, killed most of the human, finnfolk and animal population and destroyed everything in its wake.

My point is… He’s old. I imagine him ugly as a frog, bent and decaying, surrounded by his lackeys and physicians. An overgrown baby, wrinkled and gray like the lesser faeries roaming the land—his creatures, brought along together with his High Fae, the nobility of his race, from his home world.

I barely slept a wink all night. Every creak, every noise had me on high alert. I wish I could have slept and rested, but despite the exhaustion, I stayed curled up, gazing at the Sea Palace and the Pillar. The music stopped as the sky turned anash-gray in the early morning hours, and most of the lights were extinguished, except for those on the top floor of the palace.

Now I’m standing at the prow and imagine the old king there, gazing at the Pillar, like me. Thinking of the games, like me.

But that’s where our common ground ends.

I’ll kill him and finish his dynasty, his empire of fear.

This is what I was reborn for.

What I was crafted for.

I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.

I’m strong?—

“You, human, get out of the way.” A burly guard shoves me aside, marching toward the prow. “Whoever thought that allowing you on this barge was a good idea?”

“Athdara’s orders,” another guard mutters, casting me dark looks. “Look at her, she’s a tiny thing. In that bedraggled dress, barefoot, with that unkempt white hair, it will be a miracle if the telchin doesn’t throw her back into the sea as fish fodder.”

Athdara. Who doubled the number of the sacrificial victims. So many lives will be on his conscience. Wait, he probably doesn’t have one.

Why am I so rattled? I knew he was bad news from the moment I first saw him. He’s the enemy, more tangible than the king. Just because he saved my life and bragged about it, too, and because Tru likes him…

“Expect to be tested by the priests before entering the palace,” someone says nearby. “Standard procedure, of course.”

“Of course,” a deep voice answers.

Afamiliardeep voice, and then a familiar tall shadow falls over me. I control my instinctive jerk back, lifting my head to glare at him.

Speak of the arrogant bastard, and he doth appear.

He’s standing against the slowly brightening sky, his powerful body cutting a dark and pleasing shape.

He isn’t wearing armor, I realize, only clothes. Leather pants tucked into tall boots, a loose shirt, and a cloak, all of it black, matching the wild black hair falling in his blazing eyes. I don’t know why, but I want to touch his hair, feel if it’s soft or wiry. From the way it curls against his pale neck, it looks softer than silk.

As the light behind him changes, brightening more, the dark whorls and blooms on his cheekbones look… metallic.

A trick of the light, I’m sure, but I frown when I realize I’ve been staring at him. I’m angry with him, and not only that, but a petty part of me had dictated I should appear disinterested to pay him back with the same coin he paid me.

“Rae,” he says, and the sound of my name on his lips jolts me. “You must be cold. Here.”

I can only blink at him as he takes his cloak off and drapes it over my shoulders. It’s so warm and soft inside, and it smells of him, smoke, and leather. I draw a deep breath as it settles over me.

Then I shrug it off with a jerk of my body and resume glaring at him. What am I doing? I can barely stand to look at him, and yet I can’t look away.Ugh!What is this weakness?

Does he think my memory is so thin, thin like a sieve, allowing the knowledge of who he is, as well as the hurt from his cruel words, to seep out?

“How is your arm?” he asks.

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