Page 57 of Curse the Fae

“But of course, human. They’re the fauna. They’re the wild and do as they wish.”

Her tone implies she’s expecting a duplicitous response to her initial question. I rise, putting us on equal footing. “I help people. I don’t harm them.”

“You and Elixir combatted The Bask of Crocodiles together, and then you mourned the predators’ deaths. Is that right?”

“Some humans treat fauna poorly, but not all,” I share. “Some of us have respect for them, and we understand it’s in a predator’s nature to attack, and not all of us condemn an animal for that.” When she makes no reply, I take a leap of faith and give voice to the gentle truth. “The Trapping…it shouldn’t have happened the way it did.”

“You mean this, don’t you?” she muses, intrigued. “You mean this, after what we’ve done to your people.”

“We deserve our freedom and the right to defend ourselves, but we could have found another way, and you never maimed our children or animals.”

She sidles around and drums her fingers on her jaw. “What a positively bizarre one you are. Quite extraordinary, indeed. But I ponder, what precisely is the meaning of this?”

The mock-conspiratorial inflection flows like syrup. Nonetheless, she’s anticipating a farce or charade, so I mollify my words. “To be compassionate.”

“And why’s that, human?”

“Because that’s who I am.”

That she doesn’t leave the chamber bodes well. I step closer. “May I ask, why do you follow him? He would just as soon cut you down, if you cross him.”

“Ah, that.” She dismisses this fact. “Elixir became our savior in The Trapping. He has earned our allegiance.”

“What about the merman Elixir battered? The one he lashed while dragging me through The Twisted Canals? The same male in The Mer Cascades who—”

“Who was assigned to clear The Shiver of Sharks when you arrived, which the oaf failed to do.”

So, Elixir hadn’t intended for the sharks to feast on me. I’m grateful to learn this and realize I’d been hoping for a sound explanation. Now that I’ve gotten it, I don’t know whether to be alleviated or daunted that I’d been wrong about his agenda there.

The guard sighs. “Scorpio is hotheaded. It has to do with the humidity, you see. Unlike the rest of us, he’s never quite grown used to this climate, which makes him daft.”

“Scorpio?” I ask.

“The merman,” she clarifies. “Where you’re concerned, he should have known better. Now that Elixir’s done with him, Scorpio would do well to think twice about touching you. At least, if he prefers to keep certain appendages from being severed.”

“What do you mean, done with him?”

“Why, Elixir poisoned the fool, of course.”

My stomach drops. He what?

Coral’s chuckle oozes through the room. “Oh, sensitive human. Did you really think Elixir would limit himself to a near-choking in The Mer Cascades? That would hardly make him a sound ruler. As it is, the message was clear from the beginning: You’reoursacrifice, but you’rehisprisoner. And no one touches what’s his. In any case, Scorpio will live despite his charred vocal cords.”

My legs struggle to keep me upright. I should have remained sitting on the mattress.

“I wouldn’t be quick to judge a ruler,” Coral warns, her crystalline scales glittering. “His word is law, and Scorpio the Idiotic knew that. It was Elixir’s right to set the example of punishment. He’s volatile, yes. He’s ruthless, indeed. I’ve seen him tear open the gills of a siren who bartered one of our youths to an unseelie visitor, spill poison on the tongues of human captives who praised The Trapping, and blind the rest who’ve threatened us. He’s brutal and the most isolated of all Solitaries, but that’s the epitome of a river Fae, you see. It’s what we aspire to.

“To us loyal dwellers, he’s just. If the water lord trusts you, he’ll do so forever. He’s vowed to save this land, to his dying breath. That gives us strength.”

Her speech dilutes some of my ire. I think about Elixir, who acts more than he speaks. Elixir, who covets his authority and brandishes it with fists, daggers, poisons, and a surplus of scowls rather than words. I’ve ruminated about this before, but have I stopped to wonder why he covets power?

“Who gives Elixir strength?” I ponder.

“Himself,” Coral replies. “The fauna.”

“Comfort is strength, too. Who gives him that?”

Her demeanor changes, her eyebrows slanting into downward ramps. She turns while flicking an answer over her shoulder like an inconsequential pebble. “Idealistic human. Comfort will not bring back what he’s lost.”

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