Page 48 of Fae Tithe (The Cursed Courts #1)

T he fragmented pieces of herself slammed back into her dying body.

Helena’s eye snapped open. She gasped. Her body pitched forward, as if retching, only to thump back into the wall of the familiar bedroom.

She gripped the sheets beneath her, her new black claws shredding the cotton, as her body trembled.

Smoke-free air flooded her lungs. Crisp, clean, and unmistakably Seelieland.

The shock of her return thundered through her veins.

Then came pain, sharp and searing, beginning in her scarred arm.

Just as it had when the King first grabbed her, it spread fast, all-consuming.

Helena grimaced as the agony racked her body.

Breath ragged, she kept her eye fixed forward.

Slowly, she reached inward into the recesses of her mind.

Atlas? she asked inside her head, partly wondering whether he had been a product of pain-induced delirium.

Here. The Dragon rustled in her mind, and her dark grey skin instantly cooled again. The scorching pain of the King’s touch retreated. I have forced down the curse. Len, I am so tired, he said weakly.

Rest, she responded softly.

Helena vaguely registered a hand on her blistered wrist. She squinted down at it and tracked her gaze up the slender arm, shoulder, then finally focused on the face of its owner.

“El?” she croaked, her cracked lips splitting into a grin.

“Mum!” the Changeling gasped, throwing her arms around her mother’s neck.

The mother and daughter crashed against each other in a hug.

Relief flooded Helena. She wanted to cry, but she was so dehydrated that no tears came.

She was so thirsty that she could barely speak.

Helena’s eye met Lance’s sweating, exhausted face over her daughter’s shoulder.

The Merman wore a soft smile of relief, tears silvering the corners of his eyes.

She reached for him, grabbing his smoke-scented shirt, and yanked him into the embrace.

“I’ve missed you so much, El. I…” Helena whispered hoarsely as she pressed herself closer to her daughter.

She felt the Merman let out a long exhale as he wrapped his arms around them, leaning forward on his knees.

He clasped Helena and Eleanor to him. She felt his stinging tears fall through her hair and travel down to her blistered cheeks as he rubbed his forehead onto her temple, as though he could not believe she was really there.

“You reached between the worlds, Lance,” Helena’s voice cracked into his tangled hair. “Your magic reached between worlds and brought me home.”

“Between the worlds? What are you talking about, Mum?” Eleanor chuckled through her tears, resting her cheek on Helena’s shoulder.

“I thought… I…” Lance choked on his sobs.

“You are enough, love. You—” Helena’s words cut off as her body gave spasms of pain.

Atlas? I thought you stopped it.

I did. I am stopping it, the Dragon responded sleepily. This pain is a result of your other injuries, and maybe from travelling between the worlds. Please… I am so tired.

“Len?” Lance asked, eyes wild, as he pulled back from the embrace.

Helena’s attention was drawn back to him.

“Hurts,” she managed through gritted teeth.

The Merman wiped his face with back of his broad hand.

Leaning back on his knees, his eyes glanced to the curtains covering the window of their room.

Dawn’s first light filtered through. His jaw set.

They needed to get out of Solas as quickly as possible.

The streets could already be crawling with Fae guards.

Lance laid a hand on Eleanor’s shoulder. She pulled back from embracing Helena and looked up at him with red, puffy eyes.

“We need to leave the city as soon as possible. Your mother can’t ride like this. I saw a cart in Beth’s stables. Buy it, borrow it, steal it – I don’t care how, but we need it to travel,” he said, his voice raw.

Eleanor gave him a confident nod and stood, her chin stuck out. She strode over to the clothing bag and exposed some of the silken dress she had been wearing when she had left Tithe Manor. She ripped a handful of ruby chips from the garment and pocketed them.

“I got this, Dad. You take care of Mum.” She nodded, before striding out of the room, pulling the door shut behind her.

A single tear slipped down his cheek and a broad grin spread across his face.

Warmth flooded his chest as he watched the door close behind the Changeling.

It was the first time Eleanor had called him that.

Lance did not have time to address his swirling, grateful emotions at that moment. Helena needed him.

The High Prince turned back to her. She had eased herself back on the bed again. Her eye was still open, her chest rising and falling. She gave him a soft, pained smile. Lance returned it with a tender look, his expression softened with upturned lips.

“We have a lot to talk about when we get out of here,” he said. The Merman laid his hand over her swollen eye, a soft blue glow emanating from his shaking palm. He felt weak, almost drained, but he knew Helena would want to see fully. “Eye, and then legs?”

“Please. If I can see better and run, we have a chance of getting out of here.” Helena licked her cracked lips, looking up at him with her uncovered eye. “I’m so thirsty. Water as well, please, once you’re done.”

Lance nodded, pulling up from the internal, dwindling well of magic within. He shook his head, ridding himself of the dizziness as he did so.

You can do this. Len needs you. He clenched his jaw, pushing through the exhaustion.

After several minutes, he removed his palm. The surrounds of Helena’s eye were still puffy and red, but she would be able to lift her eyelid. More importantly, she would be able to see.

“I’ll get us some water while you try opening it.” He nodded and smiled down at her.

Lance stood. Pins and needles prickled his long legs from being knelt for too long.

He stepped over to the water jug on the small table.

Seeing that it was empty, he slipped into the bathroom to refill it from the copper tap, and then stepped back into the bedroom.

Lance poured two cups, one for himself and another for Helena.

He turned back to her, a cup in each hand.

He nearly dropped them as his eyebrows flew up in shock.

Helena’s left eye was open. It was working, it seemed, as both the left and right met his gaze. She gave him a weak smile, her eyes crinkling at the edges. Lance was frozen as he stared back at her, mouth slightly agape.

“What is it?” she asked, furrowing her blistered brow.

“Your eye, the one I just healed… it’s orange,” he replied, kneeling back down and offering her the cup.

Helena pushed herself back into a seated position and raised her eyebrows. “Orange?”

“Orange,” Lance confirmed. “The pupil is also different. Like a line rather than round.”

She blinked at him. He watched as the line of her new pupil widened and thinned as her eyelids opened and shut.

Helena licked her lips as she took the cup with her left hand, the dark grey scales brushing against his skin.

She gulped the water as the Merman drank his, feeling his magic refill slightly, his hands slowing their trembling.

He refilled their cups several times before he set them back on the side table.

“We do have a lot to talk about,” Helena agreed, her new eye taking in the grey-skinned hand and obsidian claws she held in front of her face.

“Later?” Lance offered.

As relief settled over him, seeing Helena was awake and talking, other emotions swirled within: confusion, frustration, and even anger.

She had left him behind, and just like she had aired her feelings about his secret, the Merman felt that he had the right to voice his.

He squashed the flurry of feelings down, knowing he had to find the right time for that conversation.

“Yes,” Helena agreed. “You saved me, Lance. I can’t even begin to explain how, but I will try, once we get out of this Faedamn city.”

Lance swallowed as he knelt beside the bed again.

He helped ease her back onto the mattress, so she lay flat.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead before turning his attention to her legs.

He reached and tugged gently at the ruined material.

Helena whimpered. The leggings were stuck.

The liquid from the blisters and blood had dried, attaching the fabric to her skin.

“I’m so sorry,” the Merman said through gritted teeth. “I need to remove this so I can heal your legs enough so you can walk.”

Helena nodded, her eyes silvering. “Do it quickly, please. Just get it over and done with.” She bit the pillow next to her.

Lance nodded and pressed his shaking hand to the first leg. The flickering blue light alleviated some of the pain as he ripped the crusted material off. Helena still screamed, her teeth sinking into the cushion.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.” Tears prickled at the High Prince as he moved onto the next leg and repeated the step.

He quickly bathed her in his healing waters. Sweat poured from him as he forced it from his palms, panting, as his blue magic probed her injuries.

Lance’s brow furrowed in concern at the significant extent of damage to her body.

Total recovery could take weeks, maybe months, even when my magic is replenished…

He clenched his jaw. Don’t worry about the future, worry about now.

Get her healed enough so that we can get out of this tides-damn city.

Eleanor bounded down the stairs two at a time. Halfway, she nearly collided with Beth. The Changeling had never seen the bubbly owner of Bright Sun Inn look so frazzled before.

“I was on my way up to your room,” she said, gritting her teeth, “hoping your mother or father could explain to me why there’s smoke everywhere, why there are guards searching the streets, and why my boys are gone.

I saw you all together at dinner a few days ago, and I knew something was wrong. What is going on?”

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed with frustration. “I don’t know where they are. Declan and Simon invited Mum to join them. They wanted her to kill the King.”

Beth blinked. Her mouth opened and shut. “They wouldn’t.”

“They did,” the Changeling replied, sticking her chin out. “If they’re gone, it’s because they planned it all. They made this happen and Mum helped them. We are trying to leave Solas, Beth…”

The owner lowered her head, sniffing, a single tear tracking its way down her cheek as she squeezed her eyes shut.

“…and I need your help,” she continued.

“You’re asking me for help?” the Blue Cap replied, lifting her head and meeting the Changeling’s gaze.

“I am.” Eleanor’s eyes searched her face. She grasped Beth’s thick wrist and turned her hand upwards. The Changeling fished three ruby chips from her pocket and pressed them into the Blue Cap’s broad hand. “Please.”

Beth looked down at the three shimmering jewels in her hand. “What’s this for?”

“It’s for whatever my family owe on our room and board, for the cart in your stables, and your help to hitch in it,” Eleanor replied.

The Blue cap studied her hand for a few moments before she closed it around the rubies.

“Will you be using your parent’s geldings?” she asked, looking back to Eleanor’s face.

She worried her bottom lip with her teeth, the wheels of her mind turning. Seelie Stallions are the fastest creatures on four legs.

“No,” the Changeling answered. “I have a better idea.”