Page 50 of Fae Tithe (The Cursed Courts #1)

L ance braced his boots against the jostling floor of the cart, every bump rattling his bones. He drew in a slow, steadying breath, willing his racing heart to slow.

Concentrate. You can do this. You are enough.

Reaching inward, past the ache in his muscles, past the exhaustion, he pulled from the dwindling well of his magic. It was nearly gone, drained by the healing he had given Helena, and whatever power it had cost him to pull her from another world. But there was still something left, there had to be.

He clawed at the remnants, gathering the fraying threads of power, pulling on them tightly, until they surged from his fingertips. The ward ahead shimmered. Solas Guards lined the gate, weapons gleaming. Lance narrowed his eyes. No time for fear or doubt.

He raised his arms, the motion making his biceps burn, calling forth the last of his magic. It answered. Water churned between his hands, swelling into a sphere that crackled with his power. The tang of the sea salt filled his nose, the unseen waves surged in his ears.

“Duck!” he roared.

Lance saw Eleanor glance over her shoulder, her eyebrows flew up and her mouth dropped open. She snapped it shut quickly and leant forward, flattening her torso as she crouched forward.

Sweat poured down his face. With his limbs trembling, Lance thrust his large hands in front of him.

A tsunami of water crashed into the guards they were rapidly racing towards.

The Fae were tossed against the taupe wall and latticed portcullis.

The High Prince heard the distinctive cracks of several necks snapping and skulls fracturing as they smashed into the barriers.

He repeated the process, conjuring a massive wave of water to crash against the warded gate and portcullis. Lance’s magic smashed against it again and again, but the dome would not shatter. His eyes widened in panic as the horse and cart hurtled closer to the gate.

“FUCK!” the Merman bellowed. “I can’t break the ward. El! Stop Goliath!”

Helena’s exhaustion had taken her. She fought to open her painful, heavy eyelids, scenting sea salt and hearing muffled, panicked shouts.

They would not open.

Helena could not wake up.

Atlas appeared in the white void of her mind.

The Dragon was just as magnificent and huge as he had been in Muspelheim, his obsidian scales stark against the glaring white of the surroundings of Helena’s psyche.

His sun-fire eyes blinked down at her, the black scratch of his pupils stretching and shrinking as his eyelids lowered and lifted.

She stared back up at him with her own mismatched eyes.

Your family needs us, the Dragon rumbled. His voiced seemed strained to Helena, like he was struggling to speak. You must wake up.

She nodded mutely up at him. She was standing in the void, just in front of him, but she was not sure what her feet were planted on.

Helena closed her eyes, straining to move her mind back into her body.

Nothing happened. She tried again and again, panting and heaving, feeling the veins under her skin set on fire with the effort.

It was as though her consciousness was wading through thick molasses. She could not wake up.

Get up. Atlas lowered his head and pressed the very tip of his scaly snout to Helena’s face, his scorching breath blasting over her skin. You must get —

Helena jolted awake. The rocking of the hurtling cart made her want to vomit.

Her mouth tasted like ash. Her grey arm tingled.

The earlier dull glow that came from the cracks in her skin roared with heat and light.

Helena, her legs weak despite Lance’s healing, brought herself unsteadily to her feet.

She narrowed her gaze at the guards and the gate, her jaw clenching in rage.

How dare they?! Helen’s nostrils flared. She could sense it, the magic that domed the city, keeping them imprisoned.

Acting on some instinct she did not quite understand, she raised her left hand to its full stretch above her head. The black claws on her fingers were scalding hot, and she felt her core temperature spike.

“Len! What are you—” Lance’s eyes widened in shock as she used his steadfast body to brace herself against the roll and bump of the cart.

Do it! Atlas roared inside her head. Blast the gate down! My Flame will shatter the ward.

A searing heat erupted from the Dragon’s voice in her mind.

It travelled down her arm and to the very tips of Helena’s scalding fingers.

As it did so, her arm shed its grey skin.

It sloughed off in long, translucent strips, revealing obsidian scales that were identical to her Dragon’s hide.

Helena’s eyes widened in shock at the vision.

A fire ignited in her upturned palm and grew.

A miniature sun, matching the one on the coat of arms of Seelieland, appeared above her hand.

It weighed hot and heavy as it grew. Helena lobbed it in a curve around her daughter, who had been frantically trying to halt the cantering Goliath.

The air fed the Dragon Fire as it shot forward.

It smashed into the Western Gate, splintering the lattice and ricocheting it in all directions.

Helena heard a crack that was distinctly different than the splitting of fire and wood.

It resonated through the air as an echo upon an echo.

She tracked the blaze of the gate and followed the sound up.

To Helena, it looked like the red dawn sky had shattered.

In truth, it had been the ward doming the city.

Atlas was right. His fire had destroyed the magic that had imprisoned them.

Helena wobbled on her feet. All the strength had fled her limbs.

Her vision shadowed as she began to lose herself to exhaustion.

Then, Helena felt something yank at the tatters of her shirt.

Her eyelids fluttered open as she felt herself secured to Lance’s side, under the protection of his arm.

She smelt sea salt and tilted her head upwards.

The High Prince had cast his own shimmering protection ward over the moving cart and horse.

His swirling water magic encased them as they hurtled towards the inferno of the gate.

“Keep going, El!” Lance shouted.

Helena watched as her daughter glanced over her shoulder and gave a nod, her jaw set, before turning back to the Seelie Stallion.

“Come on, Goliath!” Eleanor urged. She rolled the reins in her hands, and the horse broke into a gallop.

Helena barely registered the moment they plunged through the burning wreckage of the gate. The stallion thundered forward, hooves striking sparks, as Lance held the steaming water ward in place. Sweat slicked Helena’s scalp, trickling into her hair.

She clung to him, nails digging into his shirt, trying to steady herself against the jarring rhythm of the ride. Lance’s arm locked around her waist, anchoring her as they hurtled through the inferno.

Above them, his other hand stayed raised, constantly feeding the ward even as it hissed and boiled.

Lance’s face was taut with strain, his jaw clenched, the cords in his neck raised with the effort.

She saw his fingers trembling, then felt the heat spike as his protective dome wavered.

Still, he did not look down. His gaze remained locked ahead, through the flames.

They finally crossed the threshold from the city onto the main road. Once the group was clear of the Dragon Flame, Lance exhaled and finally let his arm drop to his side.

“Great job, El!” he called out, his voice shaking.

Eleanor kept her eyes dead ahead on the road as Goliath hurtled his speedy gallop away from Solas.

She responded by lifting her arm above her head and giving him a thumbs up.

Helena smiled feebly at the gesture. She turned her gaze to her Merman’s face.

He beamed down at her and pressed her even closer to his side.

She returned his grin with her own weak smile, before succumbing to exhaustion.

Helena saw Atlas again in the white void of her mind.

The Dragon was lying on his chest with his long tail curled around himself, not for the first time, reminding Helena of a house cat.

Atlas opened the eye on the side of his head that was closest to Helena.

She saw that it had dulled with exhaustion.

She walked over to him on a surface that was not there, her feet still finding purchase.

I don’t understand this mind stuff, she confessed.

Helena resolved to learn more. She had spent most of her life working and providing.

She decided that she would etch out some time to read when they returned home, even if she was slow.

Majora, her home island, had a small library, and occasionally travelling merchants would come to the Clusters to sell books.

Helena had no idea whether they would yield information on Changelings, Dragons, and mind ties, of all things, but it was a start.

Ours, I believe, is a unique circumstance. Dragons of the same family, and those that are mated, can speak to each other with their minds, Atlas replied wearily.

How do those that are not mated or in the same family speak? she asked, pressing her matching hand to the scales under his eye.

Draconic. We emit the resonance of our language much too low for those who are not Dragons to hear and speak, Atlas replied, pushing his massive head into her palm and giving a contented hum.

That sounds a little bit like Mer and other Seafolk languages. I can only speak and read Seeliespeak, and I can’t read well, she admitted. Lance can speak at least a dozen, and I know he can read Seeliespeak and Mer, probably more.

He is a polyglot? Your Siren is impressive. Atlas shifted his tail and so it was wrapped around the back of Helena’s legs, pushing her more closely towards him. Your ability to only speak and read one language was a deliberate move on Theo’s part. It is not your fault.

She settled herself next to the Dragon’s eye, the end of his tail curling around her ankles, the serrated spear at the tip resting on her knees.

What do you mean?

Theo wanted to keep many under his influence.

Take away people’s languages, force them to speak and read only their own?

You swap the many for the one, and you immediately have more control.

Atlas opened his maw and gave a mighty yawn.

Your Siren will have to make sure we are safe for the time being.

I do not know when we will be strong enough to use the Flame again, he admitted.

I am drained, Len. The travel between worlds, keeping your curse at bay, and you using my magic to break the ward… I am exhausted.

So am I. How can I be so tired when I am already asleep?

Your mind is still working, that is why. I have to say, your use of my magic was impressive. You did so well. He closed the eye next to her head.

Helena let her eyelids drop. She felt strangely safe, tucked in against the Dragon that now made his home in her mind.