Page 29 of Of Vows and War: Special Edition
“She says it has been too long, I think.”
Smart female.
The male scoffed, made obvious by the parting of his lips and the quick lift of his chest. As if he had any right to be annoyed. It was not only my time he was wasting, but his own as well. His princess’s, too. Both of them should be more eager than I was, but instead they were doing what looked like nothing.
After a beat of silent stares between the two of them, the female faced me again. If one could cut with a stare, then I would have been dead upon my own deck from hers. Was she just a warrior, or did she hold a position of power? Would the prince keep a fae around that did not offer some sort of enormous gain? What then, was her power?
I wish I had been paying attention after they attacked Dima and the fight began, but I could not take my eyes off the dying siren. Could not understand how things had gone so horribly wrong. That, and I was carefully considering what I was willing to lose in order to win.
“We need to get to Betovere. Have you heard anything about the fae princess in the last week?”
Watching without laughing as she attempted to act out each word was an impossible task. I burst into a fit of chortles when she used her hands to make a crown on her head as she said “princess.”
Bringing my fingers to my lips, I quickly blew out a whistle and waited for my crew to come. They were upon us in seconds, Bek and Ro taking up my flanks. Ro, with her upturned forest green eyes and her soft brown hair that only just kissed her collarbones, looked the sweetest of us all. She was, in fact, actually the meanest.
“We should kill them and run. Take our chances hiding from the prince instead of doing his dirty work. He might be sending us straight to our deaths, Perdita.” Her signs were soft despite the words she was conveying, just as she appeared to be. Rolling my eyes, I signed back to her, allowing my gaze to find the brown irises of the furious fae female before us.
“She wants to know if we have heard anything on the whereabouts of the fae princess. Tell her we have not, but that we need to form a plan if we are to be sent on a possible suicide mission.” I knew with certainty that Ro likely growled in anger at my reply. But I did not answer to her—nor did I answer to anyone. My agreement to work with the prince would give us more than it would cost. If we could make a good plan, then we could accomplish this.
And gaining the fae princess as an ally would not hurt. Everyone in Eoforhild knew of the heir to Betovere and her horrific powers. She was practically the incarnation of the Underworld. Perhaps she could melt a few brains for us.
In front of me, the female seemed to deflate slightly, as if she had great steaks in this mission, too. More than her life. She spoke swiftly, her large lips barely opening. Though I could not make out what she was saying, I could sense the irritation.
“Also, ask her what their names are,” I added. Ro’s lips pursed before asking them with obvious reluctance and disinterest. Both the fae and the demon before us looked at me with scrunched noses and frowns, as if me asking such a thing was offensive.
“Henry and Lian,” Ro said, signing the letters. L-I-A-N. How did that sound? Lie-an?
“It is pronounced lee-en. Li like tea, en like the beginning of the word end.” Bek was always perceptive, always knew what I thought before I told her. Lian. Lee-en. Interesting. Henry was easy enough.
“Tell Henry that—” Before I could finish signing the order, the demon summoned light to his hand, a pencil emerging from the Sun magic. We all waited as he read, his eyes wide by the time he finished. He turned and quickly cast out his magic, the white light turning into the shape of a female.
A curly-haired blonde emerged, dressed in green trousers and a black tunic. Despite her casual wear and sweaty face, so at odds with what must have been training leathers on the two she now stood beside, the female held herself like a queen upon a throne. Even the quality of her attire was clearly high. Definitely nothing like our flimsy and flowing clothing that best suited the seas and the scalding air. I drew the sword that had been strapped to my back, ready to end the newcomer before she had the chance to attack, but Henry put up a hand.
Howdarehe attempt to stop me—to order me!
“She has something for him,” Ro signed, pointing at the note that the heavy breathing and red-faced female was sliding into the demon’s hands.
Chapter Fifteen
Bellamy
“Stop staring at me,” Anastasia slurred. How she knew I was staring was beyond me. For someone who said she was here to save our world, she sure did look like she lacked initiative. Her small form was slumped across my bed, which she had eagerly commandeered after announcing she was going to throw up.
“You appeared in my home, suggested you were going to help me save Alemthian, and then puked on my sheets. What, exactly, should I do?” My sarcasm did not seem to inflame her like it did most. In fact, it was as if she did not feel much at all.
That was not my only reason for staring though. I knew her, I could have sworn I did. As she rolled over, her glowing pink hairfell forward over her face. It hit me then, where I had seen her before.
“You!” I shouted, causing her to wince in pain. “You were there on the battlefield when I awoke. You did something to Asher and I!”
“Stop yelling you fucking moron!” The words were practically a hiss, like a vexed cat.
That made me think of Wrath. Of how, as I burned his body and buried him in Haven last week, I had realized that Pino very briefly showed me the evil little vermin when we were at Reader River.
Aching for even another moment with all those we had lost, I sighed and sat in the chair at my desk. My legs straddled the back of the wooden seat, my chest leaning forward and arms hanging off the top. Anastasia opened a single pink eye, her oddly pointed ears sticking outwards instead of up. Her skin was a deep tan, but I wondered if below, her blood flowed black.
Was she another servant of the God of Death and Creation? She had called herself the holder of sin and virtue, that sounded oddly similar to the goddess.
“You’re very handsome, you know,” she whispered. A frown tilted my lips down as I furrowed my brow at her. She did not seem like the type to willingly give compliments. “Too bad you’ll probably die soon.”
