Cartoon grills

From my stepfather. I am a disabled and very sick, small woman. My father died when I was fifteen and my mom married this fucknut a year later. I wasn’t aware, but he was grooming me from the start. I’ve fought for years to get away from my birth family and had to go back home one final time after I caught covid and damn near lost my life to it - and it’s caused a lot of conditions to worsen and trigger. One day I was in the garage with him while he grilled and he turned to me and said he’d had romantic feelings for me, that he’s fantasized about me since the day my 12 and 13 year old cousins threatened to pull off my swim suit top. I was 15.
A month later he came over unannounced while my grandparents were at the hospital, she’d broken her femur. He came into my room while I was in bed and raped me.
I told my grandparents, as they were my parents, they’d raised me since the day I was born. They told me not to say a word to anyone, even my mother. They offered me money to shut me up. I told my mom. She, a narcissist, told our family and my friends I was the woman he was having an affair with. I got death threats, people told me to end my own life. I almost did.
I’m letting texts come through for evidence. He sends me sexual texts, he has sent me nudes. Constant texts, almost every day. I haven’t answered them for two years straight.
The thing that makes it okay, is he sends the funniest shit. I opened the message with dread but I immediately bust out laughing.
🤣 😂☠️👀 uhhhHHH YEAH BUDDY I think you do be having a stupid. The screenshots I could show you all, omfg. He sent me “am I crossing a line?” the other day and like ?????? HELLO??! Get this cartoon hillbilly bear out of my DMs. Somebody better come get their sewer rat 🐀

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Previous Chapter
My Discord
Buy me a cup of coffee (if you want)
Chapter Seventeen:
I’d never been on a ship before. Sure, I’d watched a few at Naval Base Kitsap when I dated a girl serving her country. But it’s not like civilians are invited to come aboard. And those ships were much different than the Jolly Roger I now found myself inside of.
The captain’s quarters were more spacious than I expected. Five glass lanterns hung lit throughout the cabin with most of the light concentrated on a large round desk in the center of the room. Captain Smee sat behind the desk in a plush red chair nailed to the floor. Behind him, large windows covered in red curtains tried to let in even more light. Smells of lumber and parchment filled my nostrils as I gazed around.
To my left sat a large hammock and a chest of the captain’s personal effects. A small painting of a man with long charcoal hair and a hook for a hand hung near the entrance with several knives sticking out from it. The painting looked rather old and worn.
If I expected squeaky floorboards when Smee set my birdcage down on the table, I came away shocked. His floor was quiet as a mouse with each step he took.
The captain wasn’t rough in his carrying the cage, either. He didn’t swing it or jiggle things around so I’d fall into the bars. He carried it securely with a tight grip.
I watched the man reach into his heavy oak chest, fetch a glass and a bottle with a “Captain’s Hooch” label, and stroll back to the table without eyeing me once.
He poured himself a drink, took exactly two sips, and sighed.
“You know, Sylva. Can I let you in on a secret? I hate this place.”
That wasn’t the opener I expected from a captain who had every ability to torture and kill me for a book I didn’t possess.
“Why?” I asked, daring to find my voice.
Smee didn’t look upset at my asking. He just took another drink before answering.
“Too many fucking birds. Everywhere I look, there are crows cawing through the trees, magpies hopping through the grass, and yes, ravens, that perch on every building, like they’re always watching. It leaves me feeling itchy and cramped. This is a big capital city, and I feel like I can’t take three steps without smelling or hearing those goddamn birds. It’s maddening.”
I hadn’t really noticed that until Smee brought it up. But he was right. Whether it was jays, jackdaws, treepies, or nutcrackers, birds seemed to fill every inch of this city, regardless of the elves they flew over.
“The Crocodile Court and Never Court aren’t like this. They’re smaller islands, and most of the birds were hunted to death years ago. You can actually find places of quiet. So you can understand why I’m eager to retrieve my king’s book and be on my way. The weeks I’ve tarried here have been more trying than anything else in my career as a captain, save for killing James and taking the ship, of course.”
Smee turned his head sharply to the right and cracked his neck.
“Yup. That’s the good stuff. Personally, I don’t give a rat’s ass about some old tome, Sylva. When you and Pann broke into the king’s library and smuggled it out, I found it rather amusing. But the Crocodile King, like many fae, is rather possessive of his treasure. So, I was forced to halt my efforts to seize the Never Court, and sent to retrieve the accursed book.”
Gods, this book has inconvenienced more people than I imagined, I thought.
Audibly gulping, I pondered what I would say. Would he believe that I used to be human? Could I tell him the book was in Washington? Would he even know where that was?
“So, let’s have it, then. The Never Prince claims you stole the Book of Tevaedah from him and hid it, a brilliantly executed double-cross, a maneuver of which, I’m a big fan. Now, I could employ all manner of discomfort to make you tell me where it is. Gods know that I broke any number of James’ men, ripping out toenails, pouring liquid fire into their eyes, choking them with their own hair, etc.
“But torture takes time to guarantee results. And I’m nothing, if not, a practical man. Therefore, I propose a simple bargain. Tell me where to retrieve the tome. And when I have it, I’ll dump you onto the docks, sail away, and our paths will likely never cross again. I’ll even pin the entire theft on Pann. How does that sound?”
After how quickly Pann had given me up, that sounded like a pretty good deal. But if I told Smee where to find the book in the human world, would he send men to retrieve it? Sylva probably deserved to deal with that level of bullshit, but Blake certainly didn’t. And I was under no pretenses Smee’s men would make distinctions between ex-fairies and full-time mortals when it came to getting in the way of their job.
Or maybe Smee’s men wouldn’t go to the human world. Could they even return to the mortal world?
I guess that was a risk I’d have to take telling the truth.
“Captain, I’m sorry to tell you this, but I’m not Sylva.”
“Oh?” he asked, neither angry nor amused. He took another drink of his hooch while he waited for me to spin my yarn.
“My name is Anola. I’m a former human that Sylva used the Book of Tevaedah to trade lives with. Two weeks ago, she interrupted my wedding and stole my body, dumping my soul into hers. Shortly after, Sylva tossed me down a hole in a tree, and I fell into Faerie. I assume she’s still living my life back in the mortal world and has the book there. But I can’t be sure as long as I’m here.”
The captain leaned back and stroked his chin.
“That’s an interesting tale, tiny piskie. I hear many stories sailing from port to port under the banner of the Crocodile King. This world is filled with much madness. And for a time, I found it entertaining. But I eventually came to realize madness is only ever really fun for the people on top. It tends to make life more difficult for underlings. That’s why I decided to stop being one.”
“So you believe me?”
Smee shrugged.
“What you say is possible, I suppose. The book is supposed to be an extremely powerful relic made by a witch long since dead. Or, you could be yanking me. Seems the best odds I give it are 50/50, you’re speaking the truth.”
My heart sank. What would he do if he decided I wasn’t telling the truth? Shaking the birdcage and throwing me into the iron bars would be just the start of what this man was capable of.
Perhaps what I found most terrifying about Smee was his brand of evil was quiet and calculating. In the cartoon, his former boss was always portrayed as a loud, irate man who squandered every chance at defeating Pann due to his impetuous nature.
Smee didn’t have that. If he wanted to be cruel, he simply would be. There’d be no need to make a show about it, whether he was hanging a man by his entrails or cutting out tiny pieces of a prisoner’s tongue every day until they broke.
I opened my mouth to speak when my runeeye activated without warning, a loud popping noise filling the birdcage and sending a rattle of glamour that dispersed upon hitting an iron boundary.
Looking at the iron cage around me, I saw natural glamour in the air poisoned by the very presence of this corrosive substance. The bars took on an extra visible layer of cruelty within my runesight, appearing less like wire and more like knotted coal and rust.
Wait a minute, I thought. I’ve seen something like this before.
Smee’s words snapped my attention back to the pirate captain.
“That’s an interesting look. Are those tiny stars in your eye going to help you remember something else about the book’s location?” Smee asked, draining his glass.
Before I could answer, a new vision spread before me, a chalkboard-sized ghostly parchment with scribbles that looked like my handwriting scattered everywhere. Words like “Kilgara” and “Raven Queen” hovered over lines that slowly connected paragraphs and other tiny pieces of information.
I glanced at different pieces and found it hard to process the parchment as a whole. This felt like seeing medieval Jarvis lay out everything I knew about Faerie and my place in it so far.
Tracing lines passed from Kilgara to Raven Queen and then circled the words “boon” and “Queen Bon-Hwa.” Details of bargains and favors I hadn’t considered passed before my eyes.
Other words appeared in my periphery like “war” and “Fist of Kairn.”
Everything intersected closer to the end where “chaos” became the biggest word of all. But it all started with the phrase “iron sickness.”
“That’s a queer look you’re wearing, little elf. Are you looking at something my mortal eyes can’t see?”
He sounded perfectly patient, but under his tone was a hint of malice that promised pain if I didn’t start making more sense soon. Curiosity could easily be replaced with animus.
But amid all the words and information I saw on this. . . let’s call it a specter roadmap, one was noticeably missing. . . Smee.
“You’re not a part of this story,” I said, my mouth feeling like it was on autopilot again, as it had been when I stood before Varella. “At least, not for much longer. You are an insignificant bump on the path to much more grand and troubling issues. Check your place, mortal. For the lakes and seas, you’ve called home, despite being an unwelcome guest, will soon be rid of you. Oh, he who plays at being a pirate captain, you will soon find yourself plucked from Faerie as a splinter from an agitated thumb.”
Coughing and scratching my neck, I looked up to see Smee raising an eyebrow.
“Well, that’s not a language I’ve heard spoken before. Would you care to enlighten me on how a human would speak in a tongue like that?”
Instead of answering, I stared through the polished wood of Smee’s bedroom wall and found a massive concentration of glamour standing on the docks outside. The glamour writhed and twisted about like an impatient serpent.
“Anola? Are you done speaking to me?”
“There’s no need for us to continue talking. Queen Bon-Hwa is here.”
The captain raised his eyebrow.
“And how can you be sure of that?”
Before he could ask a second time, a knock at the door interrupted our conversation. Smee grimaced.
“Come in.”
A shirtless man with skin the color of rice walked in through the door. His brown shorts were tattered, and a large scar ran across his ribs. Curly red hair bounced around him as he walked toward us.
“What is it, Starkey?”
“We found her, sir, exactly where you said. What do you want us to do?”
Smee grinned, and I shivered as that calculating cruelty revealed itself in stronger form. His eyes seemed to grow while the captain pondered his options for whatever it was his crew had found.
“Tied her up below deck. Remember those chains I told you to fetch?”
“Aye, sir. I’ll see it done.”
With that, Starkey turned to leave. Just before he exited the captain’s quarter, he turned back toward us.
“Oh, and sir? The Raven Queen is standing on the docks outside our ship. She hasn’t said anything yet. But I thought you should know.”
Smee glanced back at me before dismissing his crewmember.
He thought for a moment while I dismissed my runeeye. My vision returned to normal, ghostly parchment fading from sight.
“I suppose we should go have a chat with the queen, Anola. Perhaps she’s come to bargain for your life.
Just as carefully as he carried my birdcage in, the captain lifted me from the table and started toward the docks.
***
Outside the air was heavy as a thick layer of fog slowly pedaled into the port. Things grew hazy as I was able to spot the outline of other ships and the buildings of Perth but little else. The lake hid herself and her threats beneath a billowing cloud of ghosts.
Queen Bon-Hwa stood on the dock with her arms crossed, most of her body hidden beneath a soft red cloak. Her crown remained visible despite the fog’s best efforts to hide everything.
Captain Smee walked down a gangplank as the smell of lakewater and damp wood washed over me. He stopped about 15 feet short of the queen.
“Well, your grace, it’s a surprise to see you here outside my humble vessel. Have you come to threaten me or sink my ship?”
Bon-Hwa shook her head.
“I’m not actually here for you, Captain Smee. I merely decided to take a stroll down to the docks to get some fresh air. Sometimes the palace can be a bit stifling. You’re the one who walked out here to greet me, yes? I didn’t summon you.”
Smee grinned at that.
“How’s that stained glass window in your throne room? I was so sad to see such a lovely work of art destroyed.”
Bon-Hwa’s red-painted lips didn’t betray her with a grimace or even a small frown. She remained perfectly still, cloaked with an impartial expression befitting a ruler whose secrets had secrets.
“There’s no need to worry yourself. Our artisans have repaired it and restored the window to its full glory. I sat beneath it just yesterday holding court.”
“So, if you’re not here for me, can I assume this piskie of yours is free to remain in my. . . let’s call it. . . hospitality?”
Bon-Hwa’s eyes glance down toward me. I did not plead for help but instead stood frozen, measuring my breaths so as not to feed the pirates with a display of fear.
“It’s a curious thing. Our royal pet and apprentice arcanist leave the palace without so much as a note. And then one goes missing and the other appears in a birdcage under your very hand.”
Smee shrugged.
“That IS a curious thing,” was all he offered in the way of response.
And before any more vaguely threatening words could be exchanged, a deafening boom rattled the harbor, displacing the stillness of its mist. A second later, a cannonball took out a chunk of the topmast on Smee’s boat. The Jolly Roger appeared to shutter and groan as wood splinters fell over us like rain, and a crew of pirates shouted and dove for cover.
The captain’s previously calm demeanor faded as he turned to examine the damage to his ship. Another cannon fired in the distance, this time taking out a large window in Smee’s quarters.
“What are you doing?!” Smee snapped at the queen, dropping my cage to the dock. I stumbled forward but managed to stop just before iron bars scorched my face.
The queen cocked her head.
“What do you mean? I’m simply out here to get some air.”
“Bullshit. And the cannon fire tearing my ship to pieces?” Smee yelled.
Queen Bon-Hwa merely rubbed her chin.
“That IS a curious thing,” she said.
A third boom in the distance echoed just before a cannonball killed Starkey, taking off most of his upper body and crashing into the railing. That last shot tore a large hole in the ship’s starboard side.
“Captain! It’s the Scoundrel! I see their flag. The Scoundrel is firing upon us,” one of the crewmembers yelled toward Smee.
He hissed and turned to glance into the fog as a smaller vessel came into view only briefly. The captain ran his fingers through his hair and swore. Then he swore again.
But at last, an idea seemed to dawn on him as he turned to Queen Bon-Hwa with a look of fury.
“You have pirates in your port. Why aren’t you attacking them?!”
“I assure you, Captain Smee, if the pirates fire upon any part of my ships, docks, or city, I will unleash my full wrath upon them.”
“We’re registered merchants docked in YOUR port! Your duty as queen compels you to offer us safe harbor and protection to do business so long as we’re anchored here.”
Queen Bon-Hwa seemed to consider this before shrugging.
“You’re right, Captain Smee. I do owe registered merchants docked in my city protection. Of course, vendors docked in Perth are also required to provide detailed cargo manifests, and I couldn’t help but notice you have yet to turn in any paperwork. As such, before you are issued merchant protections, I’ll need to board and inspect your ship to make sure you’re not carrying contraband. Will you surrender to my inspection?”
I couldn’t help but grin and admire the woman who’d defeated a pirate in her port simply with words. And, perhaps, a shady message to some other pirates who owed her a favor. I watched Smee clench his fists and grind his boots into the wood below. Sweat broke out over his face as more cannon fire pelted his ship.
“Captain! What are your orders?!” a panicked crew member called out.
Smee swore again and stomped his foot.
“Fine. It’s not like I’m leaving empty-handed. I will be departing at once, Queen Bon-Hwa. Thanks for your hospitality,” he said, turning to walk up the gangplank and mercifully forgetting all about my birdcage.
“The pleasure is all mine. Safe sailing and smooth seas, captain,” Bon-Hwa said.
The captain barked orders at his men who flew about the deck in a fury of activity.
“Take us out, Damien! We’ll lose Captain Selena Karmen in the fog. Bank hard to the south. With enough distance, even her felinae huntress won’t be able to hit us.”
I watched with Queen Bon-Hwa as the Jolly Roger took on more fire, returned a few shots that all vanished in the mist, and then faded from our site, just like the Scoundrel, which was, theoretically giving chase. Or maybe it was anchored just offshore. I couldn’t tell in all this fog.
Bon-Hwa fished a brass letter opener from under her cloak and unlatched the door to my birdcage with it. I exited the accursed cage and flew up to her shoulder, taking care not to step on her silky black hair or the red ribbons trailing out from her hair.
“Are you hurt, apprentice arcanist?”
I shook my head.
“Not really. I burned my hands. They’re throbbing a little, but Smee was surprisingly delicate with me.”
Bon-Hwa looked me over closely and said, “He was a decent opponent for a mortal. We’ll have a healer take a look at your hands when we return to Featherstone.”
I nodded.
“Thank you, your grace. The, um, pirates who fired upon Smee? Were those the Scoundrels you asked my teacher to summon?”
She nodded as we turned back toward the palace.
“They are pirates who prey upon other pirates. Their captain also owed me a favor.”
I nodded and found myself gazing at Bon-Hwa with renewed respect and maybe a little awe. Whether she said so or not, I wholeheartedly believe she came out here to guarantee my safe return. At least in part.
She happened to glance over at me.
“Something on your mind?”
I shook my head, not wanting to sound like an idiot.
The queen let out a small grin, and we returned to the palace where I was promptly tackled, hugged, kissed, and scolded by Barsilla.
With the queen otherwise occupied, Barsilla and I flew back to her room where she proceeded to pin me against a wall.
“What is it with you?! The dire crocs weren’t enough of a heart attack for me? You gotta get captured by pirates too?” she yelled.
Her eyes blazed something fierce, but I could tell it was to cover her overwhelming joy that I’d returned safely.
“I had Sierra with me,” I offered, fighting a smile.
“A roasted potato would have been more reassuring company!” Barsilla yelled, tightening her grip on me.
“I’m sorry. I just wanted to help find Pann. Obviously, everything went to shit, but I made it back safe and sound.”
Barsilla jabbed a finger in my face.
“If you EVER do anything stupid like that again, I will have you leashed at my side at all hours of the day.”
When she was finished yelling at me, Figaro took a turn growling and stamping her paw into the ground for several seconds, unloading her frustrations with my lack of planning. It was kind of adorable until she used that paw to pin me to the ground and huff for several minutes.
I sighed. But then I remembered something important and turned to Barsilla once I was allowed to stand again.
“I need you to take me to Featherbrooke,” I said.
***
Flying before Varella, I couldn’t help but realize this entire mess in Faerie began with her attempting to kill me, believing I was a spy. And now, here I was, about to ask if she trusted me for something that might very well get me killed.
Staring at the bedridden queen with my runeeye, I found it easily once more. The speck in her neck.
“I see you’ve regained the use of your wings, little piskie. And I’ve been informed you are now an apprentice arcanist. It seems good fortune has found you at last,” Varella said.
I didn’t want to do this. If she didn’t kill me, it was still going to be gross.
“Your grace. I’ve also gained some use and control over my runeeye. And it has revealed to me what’s blocking your queensglamour from returning.”
Varella fell silent. She turned to everyone in the room and said, “Leave us, please.”
Vyzella, Kit, and Barsilla all did as she requested and shut the door.
“You’re speaking much more boldly than the last time you stood before me,” Varella said. “What’s your theory on while I remain so weak? I’m interested to hear your diagnosis.”
The queen spoke like she didn’t believe me at all. And I frowned, wondering if doing this was entirely necessary. Bon-Hwa seemed to be handling the throne better than I imagined Varella ever could. If it were up to me, I’d leave her in charge.
I sighed. Recalling the parchment I saw in my runeeye and how important the words “Kilgara” and “iron sickness” were. In the coming war amid a destabilized Faerie, Varella’s strength would be needed to preserve this court.
“Do you trust me?” I asked, pulling out a dagger Barsilla had hesitantly given me upon request.
Varella’s grin grew sinister and downright horrifying, her eyes enveloping the very tone a dark queen of Faerie should carry. She sat in her bed, not moving an inch.
“This just got interesting. Do I trust you? Not particularly. But it seems you’re set on a particular course of action. So I’ll give you 30 seconds to do whatever you’re thinking. And after that, if I don’t like your choices, I’ll kill you once and for all. How does that sound?”
Trying not to let my heart rattle so loud that Varella would hear, I simply sighed again and nodded.
“Go ahead, little piskie.”
I flew over to her and landed on the bedridden queen’s collarbone. Steadying myself on her neck, I heard a low laugh escape her lips.
Running my fingers over the tiny piece of iron embedded in Varella’s neck, I flinched. This was going to suck.
Best get it over with, I thought, tightening my grip on the borrowed blade.
I did my best to make a narrow cut in Varella’s neck, and she didn’t flinch or hiss in pain. Nor did she swat me. How many seconds did I have left? Too few to waste on counting.
Gingerly reaching my fingers into the wound and trying not to barf as my stomach did exactly 12 flips, I sucked in a quick breath and braced myself for pain. Blood ran down the queen’s skin and onto my sandals and dress. Still, she did not flinch.
I knew exactly when the fingers on my right hand made contact with the speck of iron. Searing pain raced up and down my fingers. It felt like I’d reached into a grill at a cookout and grabbed one of the hot coals. Only now instead of burgers cooking, it was the palm of my hand.
The blood started to sizzle along with me as I braced my feet against the base of Varella’s neck. And for the first time, she gasped and grimaced.
Not wanting to budge, the iron speck seemed to be actively resisting my pull, and the Raven Queen was starting to sweat as she clenched her fists against the comforter.
Gritting my teeth and grabbing the speck even tighter, I screamed as molten magma threatened to melt through my palm and start roasting each bone in my fingers.
“Get out, you fucking rock!” I yelled, grabbing my torched wrist and pulling with all of my might.
With the sickening pop of a cyst bursting, I yanked the iron pebble free. It was a tiny thing, fitting into even my closed fist. But the pain was too much, and as I fell backward, I lost my grip on the spec. It landed on the floor and clattered over against the wall.
By this time, the door burst open, and in walked Vyzella with wide eyes. I only caught a glimpse as I fell headfirst onto the bed, my hand still smoking.
When I finally righted myself, I noticed my right hand was charred gray.
If there’s one thing I miss about being human, I thought, hissing in pain.
Glancing up at Varella with runeeye, I saw her queensglamour roar back all at once. Her eyes turned solid violet, and the queen’s back straightened.
A wicked grin broke out across her face as she took a deep breath and muttered, “Yes. . . yes! That’s it!”
With little warning, she suddenly stood, and I watched a tidal wave of violet glamour surge through her body like a shower that finally has a full hot water tank to draw from.
The Raven Queen’s eyes finally returned to normal as Vyzella said, “It looks like you’re back in business, as the mortals would say.”
She stretched while Vyzella went and fetched a bandage for her neck and tweezers to grab the speck of iron.
Afterward, Varella picked me up and held me near her face.
“Well done, Anola. It seems you’ve surprised me, after all. With my full strength returning, I can finally return to Featherstone.”
“Happy to have been of service,” I said, still wincing as I held my hand.
“I’m inclined to grant you a boon for your service here today. What favor would you ask of a fae queen?”
I wanted to say lots of things. A fucking soaking tub for my hand. An apology for nearly killing me. An enchanted waffle cone that never ran out of strawberry ice cream. But as that ghostly parchment came to mind, and I thought back on the big picture my runeeye had been slowly revealing to me since my conversation with Captain Smee.
Rolling the dice, I stared at the queen’s now-patient eyes and said, “What I want is for you to make Bon-Hwa queen all the time, not just when you’re incapacitated or away.”
Vyzella audibly gasped, as did Barsilla who just flew into the room. Kit started laughing, and the cat’s chuckle filled the bedroom.
But Varella merely narrowed her eyes.
“I offer you a rare queen’s boon, and you want to use it for someone else? You understand this favor could be used to make you big again, right?”
I looked over at Barsilla with a growing smile and said, “No thanks. It’d be really hard to kiss my girlfriend if I was big again. I chose a life here with Barsilla, the life of a piskie.”
For the first time, I watched the librarian fae tear up and drop her clipboard and pencil. She covered her mouth with her hands and stifled a sob.
Varella raised an eyebrow.
“Even still. Why use your boon to benefit the second-most powerful fae in my court?”
Turning to the Raven Queen, I shrugged.
“I wasn’t aware using a boon required an explanation,” I said. “My reasons are my own, your grace.”
Slowly nodding, Varella turned back to her left-hand lady.
“Barsilla, take a note when you’re able. I want you to deliver an official decree to Bon-Hwa. She will no longer be known as queen-in-command. Henceforth, she’ll simply operate with the title of queen. She will continue to oversee the day-to-day queen’s business, and her authority will have no limits inside the Raven Court unless it directly conflicts with a decree from myself.”
She turned to me again.
“Consider your boon spent. I hope it was worth it, apprentice arcanist.”
I slightly bowed my head.
At that point, Varella looked around the room and realized someone important was missing. She frowned.
“Where is my pet?”
I flinched, images of Sierra being shot and falling through a window suddenly coming back to my mind.
“Oh shit,” I gasped.
“Anola?” Varella asked, looking closer at me.
“Last I saw her, your grace, Sierra was shot with a mortal gun and a silver ball. Smee shot her, and then she fell backward through a window. I haven’t seen her since,” I said.
Rage filled the Raven Queen’s face, and I felt the wind start to pick up outside as the cabin shook.
“Barsilla, we’re returning to Featherstone at once. I want feathers and talons dispatched to search all of Perth. Nobody rests until my pet is found and returned to me.”
A new voice at the door caused us all to turn. We found Bon-Hwa leaning against the doorframe with a scowl on her face.
“I’ve just heard back from Ceras, my queen. There’s no sign of Sierra anywhere. We found a puddle of blood in the middle of some broken glass, but the werewolf hasn’t yet turned up.”
The Raven Queen clenched her fists and ground her teeth.
“Where is Lily? I demand to speak with my wing at once.”
I landed on the bed and stood next to Barsilla, hoping to stay out of the queen’s line of sight. She was practically seething, and my heart was hammering watching her returning glamour storm and rage.
“The spymaster was last seen boarding a boat in the harbor and heading toward the Scoundrel anchored out a way. I think we can conclude she’s already on Sierra’s trail and will find her.”
Varella took a step toward the door and said, “I’m going after them.”
But Vyzella caught her hand.
“Var, listen to me. I know you’ve gotten some strength back for the first time in weeks, and you feel like a wrathful storm once more. But consider your subjects. If they see you reappear for the first time since news of Kilgara arrived, and you’re immediately flying off, it’ll send ripples of doubt and fear through your queendom.”
I watched the Raven Queen stifle a snarl.
“What would you have me do while my pet is wounded and away?”
Bon-Hwa spoke directly enough that I flinched.
“Trust that your spymaster will find and retrieve her. Return to the palace, clean up, and sit the throne for court tomorrow. Reinstate the confidence of your nobles who will then reinstate the confidence of your citizens. News from Faerie is grim right now. Courts are failing with many dissolving into civil wars and rebellions, exactly as the Fist of Kairn wanted. You want to make sure that doesn’t happen here? Announce to everyone you’re alive and ready to defend the Raven Court.”
Taking several deep breaths, I watched the Raven Queen wipe her forehead. She gritted her teeth more but eventually released her fists.
The queen had at last regained her strength, only to now lose her heart. And I watched her warring between telling Bon-Hwa to fuck off while she raced after her pet and understanding her responsibilities as queen.
Varella looked to the floor, and I only heard her mutter a single word.
“. . . Sierra.”
Epilogue
(Sierra)
Everything on my left side hurt, my arms as well. Burning like I hadn’t felt since I grabbed Kit’s wine bowl and scorched the shit out of my fingers. Outside wherever I saw, I heard a deep rumble of thunder. And the floor swayed left and then right.
Of course, I couldn’t move much for some reason.
Whimpering and managing to open a single eye, I detected a single dim torch swaying from the ceiling. The smell of moldy bread and squishy potatoes filled the air around me as I fought not to hurl.
“I think she’s waking up. Go get the captain,” a man said.
I must have passed out for another few minutes before waking up again, realizing that the burning sensation on my arms wasn’t going away. I tried to move and found myself secured in place against a large wooden beam of some kind.
A thin smoke made the room extra hazy. The smoke came from my smoldering flesh, courtesy of silver chains wrapped tight around me.
“Fuck,” I coughed, a bit of blood and drool dripping down my chin.
I’d have scars just above my elbows for the rest of my life. My collar, where I’d been shot, remained open and quite tender. How had it not healed?
Right. . . silver ball in the pistol, I thought. Fucking pirates.
A man’s voice spoke and drew my attention toward him.
“There she is. I was worried you weren’t going to wake up. After two days of sailing, I figured you’d ask for water or food. But you’ve just been down here festering exactly where I left you,” Smee said. “You’re my consolation prize from the Raven Court. And I can only imagine what that bitch queen will offer to get you back. I’m sure the Crocodile King will get something nice.”
Rage coursed through me, and I struggled against the chains.
“You will address her as the Raven Queen,” I growled, eyes snapping open. I ignored the burning in my arms as the three or four pirates in the room laughed at me.
“Calm down. You’re not going anywhere. Those chains are solid silver. We know how to deal with werewolves,” one of the pirates said.
Smee grinned.
“Truly not a bad consolation prize,” he mumbled.
I grimaced and took in a shallow breath. Anger brought me back to the waking world, and I was ready to kill. I’d been shot, hogtied, and had to listen to these shitheads insult my queen. Enough was enough.
A thought occurred to me as I pulled against the chains again. And I started to laugh, manically. The pirates laughed with me. And Smee, the only one who appeared to have any sense, asked, “What’s so funny?”
“Well, you’ve bound me with silver chains, right?”
“Correct. That sizzling of your flesh should make that pretty obvious. I guess there’s no intelligence requirement to be a royal pet,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.
“But no iron chains?”
He narrowed his eyes and slowly shook his head.
“And how many men do you have on this ship?”
“Nine,” he answered, scowling. “Why? Are you thinking about trying to attack us?”
I shook my head.
“Good. Because I’ve got enough to deal with right now. Fucking giant storm outside for starters. The waters leaving the lake you call home and entering the faesea can get pretty choppy sometimes.”
I laughed again.
“Relax, captain. I’m not thinking about trying to attack you. I already made up my mind to slaughter you all. I just needed to know how much help to call.”
And as Smee flinched, I pulled deep on the chunk of queensglamour embedded in my wolfheart as I had while defending Featherstone. Primal rage quaked through me as I threw back my head and let forth an ear-piercing howl in the storage room I’d been imprisoned within.
From the shadows of the room created by the swaying lantern, violet-eyed beasts took form. Rustling dark feathers betrayed their location as a dozen wolves growled in unison.
“What in the name of hell are those?!” one of the pirates shrieked.
“I call them my Black Feather Pack. Kill them all!” I barked as the wolves made of nothing but shadow and obsidian feathers rushed from all corners of the room and tore the pirates into pieces. Smee screamed until one crushed his throat, and I gave a feral cackle watching him bleed to death on the floor.
Over the next few minutes, my wolves freed me, and we worked our way through the ship, killing every person in sight.
The ship swayed violently to the left as another large clap of thunder rocked the boat.
“Fuck, that’s loud,” I muttered, finding my way to the deck.
Rain pelted my face, and the wind whipped my tattered clothing that had gone crusty with my blood over the course of two days.
In the distance, I spotted a massive wave rising in front of the ship. It swallowed my vision as my heart sank, and I looked around for any sign of land. Finding none and hearing the deafening roar of the approaching wave, I thought of a George Clooney film, but the title eluded me.
Looking desperately for the helm, I ran toward the tiller, only to find a single bloody hand remaining attached to the chipped, worn wheel.
“In hindsight, I really should have spared at least one of the pirates to steer the ship,” I muttered.
My black feather pack sat around me, waiting for another command.
“I don’t suppose one of you knows how to steer a ship or navigate, do you?” I asked as the wolves cocked their heads to the side and whinged.
I slowly nodded as that giant wave came crashing down upon the ship.
“Well, fuck.”
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Editor's note: This concludes A Bargain for Wings. Please stay tuned for news about book #4 in this series and my next book, a dark dragon romance, in the coming days.