Page 8 of The Lost Fae
"You know what? I think the queen would very much like that. But there are a few problems with that scenario."
I stifle a huff of breath. Instead, choosing to curl my free hand around Lincoln’s thigh once more. I hold him tightly letting him know just how annoying and frustrating this entire thing is. Though... back in the Fae realm it couldn't be much better. Not with this building war.
And what of Zeve? What of Lylix? Or Jase? My precious cousin. We'd been brought back together only to be torn apart by the realms. And if Lincoln is right, if this truly is the Lost Court, is there even a way to get back home?
There has to be. No one would know about this place if somehow at some point people were able to get back home.
"What is that?" I demand.
"Hasty, hasty,new friend,"Johanna interjects.
"I am not your friend. Just so we are clear."
I would maybe hold back some of the sarcasm and bitterness for a while. After all, these women have been able to fight off an entire gang of Fae for how many years?He speaks clearly into my mind but he hardly gets through the thought before Captain Beatrice rips an iron dagger out from under the table and stabs it into the wood.
"The enemy of my enemy is my friend. Is that not true?"
I force myself to swallow my comments and give her a slight nod. Lincoln does too. He sits on the edge of his seat in constant preparedness to move in front of me. The opposite of what I need now is Lincoln sandwiched between me and one of these sex deprived women. Though on second thought... I doubt they are sex deprived. If they are anything like I was, I'm sure they've gotten creative. Or at least gotten with each other.
Who could Beatrice's lover be? Johanna? Another one of the orphans she picked up and fell madly in love with? None of them? All of them?
"This ship is," she starts again. "unmovable."
"I'm sorry, what? Can we not just push it out of the sand and let the wind blow us wherever we need to go?"
"It doesn't quite work like that,sweetie."The nickname is anything but sweet on her tongue. "In the first attack those bloody Fae rendered my ship useless." Beatrice fists her hand and shakes it in the general direction the other Fae had run off to. "Plus, you don't think my crew tried to push us off this land mass? We're too far ashore. Maybe with the strength that you two have we'd be able to. That is after we get the ship working again."
"How did they make your ship useless?"
"Stolen parts." Johanna finally dumps the last bit of swept glass into a small barrel and leans herself against the wall.
"Those evil creatures—again no offense—” she says with a fake pleasantry, "They took apart some vital pieces. Pieces that help us steer. We've fixed just about every other odd and end damage that came with entering this Godforsaken place. We just need a few things."
"And have you tried to retrieve them?"
Lincoln's thumb rubs against mine. A subtle warning to withhold the attitude in my voice. I just can't help it. And it's not like these pirates are being all that kind to us.
Well they haven't tried to kill us yet.He reminds me.
Unless those glasses of vodka are poisoned. Why would they keep us alive?
To fix their damn ship, clearly.An uneasy chuckle fills my mind.
"Have we tried to retrieve them?" Beatrice tilts her head back with a loud laugh. She slaps the table and she licks her lips before speaking again. "It's a fool’s errand. I can't just leave our home unattended. Or send a single one of us into the trap that is their home. I can't lose any more of them."
"So how do we get to the queen if not by ship?"
"We don't. Not unless she chooses to come to us. Which she might. Or she won't."
We need to meet this queen. All royalty has secrets. I'm willing to bet her secret leads us right out of this realm.Lincoln's mind circles over what other choices we have. There aren't many.
"What if we get the part for you? Then will you be able fix your ship and get us to the queen?"
"If you fix our ship, we'd do whatever you asked." Beatrice leans back in her seat and snaps at Johanna who is already in motion. "Lucky for you we've done a little digging already ourselves."
Her first mate pulls open a drawer on the cluttered desk, moving aside a few papers before she takes out a scroll tied up with a red ribbon. Johanna moves with purpose, placing it gently in her captain's waiting hand.
Beatrice tugs at the ribbon, the bow sliding away to nothing. She opens the paper, fighting to lay the curling edges flat. A rough map has been drawn on the yellowing surface. The paper is much thicker than what I am accustomed to using. She slides it over to us and I let go of Lincoln to help hold the document down.
