Page 10 of The Lost Fae
Both the pirates turn their gaze on him. Sizing him up with every blink.
"So what are you then? Hmm? Are you half human too? Am I supposed to find comfort in this? That somehow we are all the same?" The captain's sneers.
"Bullshit," Johanna murmurs behind her.
"He's half god," I say the words with certainty before Lincoln can answer himself, just to watch the shock form on their faces. Instead, they both quirk a single brow in unison.
Beatrice snorts, turning to her first mate. Then she really laughs. They laugh together. Loud, boisterous, 'we don't believe a word you just said' laughs. The table quakes as the captain grips it's edge to hold herself steady.
"It's true!" I look to Lincoln. He rolls his eyes.
Don't worry about their disbelief, we don't need to prove anything to them. We'll just retrieve the stupid piece they need for their ship and be on our way home.
His words do little to reassure me.
"We are supposed to believe that he is half God?" Beatrice points a ring clad finger. "I don't see his name written in the Bible."
"No, not the human God," I mumble.Maybe this is a lost cause. "It's beside the point." I clap my hands together. "How do we get these parts for you?"
"Tell me this before we continue, Fae girl. How do you know they are half human?"
"The wings. They are a mutation. Anything half Fae has them. Humans just happen to be the most common species that the Fae...minglewith."
"And where are his wings?"
"They--ah..." I glance towards Lincoln.
He sighs, unfolding his arms to run his hands up and down the length of his thighs as he talks. "The queen I served was not in favor of this distinct difference between those of us who are half-breeds and full-blooded Fae. She had my wings torn from my body. That's the two major markings on my back." The chair against the floor is the only sound in the room as he pushes it back and stands. He turns offering a view of his back.
Scabs still cut across his flesh from the whipping he had undertaken, but it is still clear where his wings once were. Were they as beautiful as him? I can't help but wonder.
"Very well." Beatrice points to the map. "To get the pieces I reckon' you'll need to send the girl here in as bait."
Bait?
"I'm sorry, what?" I stutter.
Four
King of the Shadow Fae
The sheenof sweat shines over Lincoln's back. It's all I can focus on. Somewhere inside my head I'm lost in the memory of his wings being torn from his back. I didn't ask before I began trifling through his mind. In all honesty, I hardly noticed the difference between his mind and mine until the memory came crashing in with full force against my mind’s eye.
Cordelia didn't use sedatives. She didn't even give him something to bite on.
When someone is in pain they scream. But Lincoln couldn't scream. He didn't have the energy to. His mouth fell open, his whole body weak, nothing but a breath fell from his speechless lips. Tears streamed down his cheeks in two steady lines that came together to drip off his chin. Blood covered his back. So much blood. Did it ever have an end?
"I'm not sure why you do that to yourself." Lincoln holds back a branch.
Sand gathers in the cuffs of the pants I was able to get from the crew. They practically made me beg for them and complained when I explained holes would need to be cut in the top for my wings to emerge.
"Do what?" I purse my lips.
"Force yourself to live through every torment I've endured. You don't see me picking through your mind and reliving every terrible home you stayed in."
Light is quickly fading. The sun is almost completely hidden by the horizon. The slightest hue of orange slices through the trees and casts itself over Lincoln's face. His golden gaze glows like the hoard of pirate treasure onboard the old ship. His free hand traces the rough stubble along his chin.
"Guess I'm just a glutton for punishment."
