Witches of the Deep (The Memento Mori Witch Trilogy Book 3) (25 page)

H
e was standing
between Fiona and the two remaining Guardians when the bullets rang out. All around them, humans transformed into wolves, desperate to flee. He watched in horror as a bullet pierced an old woman’s leg and she crumpled to the ground.

The fires burned within him. His body vibrating with heat, he threw back his head, calling forth the flames to blast the armored vehicles. He could feel Fiona’s presence at his side, stealthy and cool. She sucked in a deep breath, exhaling a furious storm that knocked the machine-guns off target.

He glanced at the Picaroons, who raised their arms, chanting a shielding spell. As they spoke, a shimmering dome appeared, rippling like a wake in a pond. Tobias let the fires recede, watching as Purgator soldiers fell from their burning vehicles.

The bell clanged out across the common—their signal to meet at the belfry.

The green-eyed one turned to them, his jaw clenched. “You need to get out of here. Get everyone out. There are more Purgators coming, and this shield won’t hold forever.”

A driving gale whipped Fiona’s hair into her face. “We’re going to Maremount, and you’re coming with us. The Throcknell army is in disarray, and they’ll be locked out of the city.”

The dark-skinned Picaroon nodded. “I’m going with my Dogtown family.”

The green-eyed Picaroon grimaced. “Maremount?”

“You’ve got nowhere else to go,” said Fiona. “And you obviously can’t stay here.”

Something clouded the sea demon’s eyes, and Tobias felt a flicker of sympathy.

“Fine,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Fiona and the Picaroons took off, darting through the rocky grasses. Before he left, Tobias shot a quick glance up to the sky, watching as Rawhed shot into the darkness. He’d had every chance to kill him just moments ago.

“Tobias!” Fiona shouted, and he broke into a sprint, powering up the hill to the belfry.

An enormous crowd had gathered, swarming around the meeting point. Estelle was screaming at everyone to hurry up, and Oswald stood on her throne, gripping the crumpled spell. Just below him stood Celia, Alan, and Mariana.

As the werewolves poured in, the shield began to fade.

“Oswald!” shouted Estelle. “Read the spell!”

Oswald launched into the Angelic spell, calling it out in a clear and loud tone. As he spoke, bullets began to penetrate the crowd. When Tobias heard the words “King Balthazar,” he felt a mixture of relief and dread.

Oswald was taking them to the King. Tobias closed his eyes, jumping at the lurch in his chest. When he opened them again, he stood with the same crowd of werewolves. Only now, they were just outside the castle gates.

They stood in Lullaby Square, and the only sounds were the whimpers of the injured.

He looked around at the crooked timber-frame buildings and the fortress that towered over the cobbled square in the darkness. It felt surreal being here, a bizarre sense of trespassing in his own home.

Panicked shouts echoed through the square. Already, werewolves laid into the guards at the castle gates. Estelle stood atop the Lilitu Fountain, joining hands with three other women to raise the veil around Maremount.

The King’s army wouldn’t be here to protect their sovereign.

Tobias felt a cool hand on his arm, and he turned to see Fiona. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close and nestling into his neck. His pulse raced, and he ran a hand through her hair.

“Did you swallow it?” she asked. “The relic?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.” He glanced over to the open portcullis. Thomas was leading the swarming werewolves inside. And somewhere among them, a Tatter hellbent on vengeance and two lethal Picaroons. The King didn’t stand a chance.

She pulled away, frowning. “What are you waiting for?”

He glanced down at the sad fragment of bone—this broken ivory nub that had once belonged to a goddess. They stood here, beneath the Lilitu Fountain, where Eden’s broken body had swung. Where Fiona had nearly lost her life to Jack’s brutal instinct of self-preservation.

“It’s a gift from the devil,” he murmured.

“You didn’t kill him,” she said. “You could have. You know I would have backed you up.”

A cool morning breeze ruffled Tobias’s hair. “Something stopped me. He looked… broken.”

Jack’s palpable misery had sapped away just enough of Tobias’s bloodlust. Or maybe he hadn’t wanted to give in to Emerazel’s burning rage; to let it consume him.

Fiona cupped his face, staring at him. “Are you going to eat it, or will I have to make you? Because I’m not letting you die over this. I need you alive. I can’t stay in Maremount without you.”

A spark of hope ignited. “You want to live here with me?”

“Of course. And I want to see everything you’ve told me about. The pond, the nippexies, the mayflower festivals. I want you to show it all to me.”

Gods, it sounded like heaven. How could he resist? Gazing into her midnight eyes, he lifted the bone to his mouth, dropped it on his tongue, and swallowed. It caught in his throat for a moment before sliding down, shimmering through his body in ecstatic waves. He could still feel the fires burning in him, but he had a strange sense that he could control their intensity.

When the last of the goddess’s light burned through him, unwelcome images stirred in his mind. The purple lumps on his mother’s throat as she took her last, gasping breaths. Tobias’s father William, lying in bed for weeks, too broken by the world to stand and dress himself. Then Oswald’s father—drunk and beating his young son with a wooden rod. A haggard face in the House of the Swan Ladies—blond hair, sunken cheeks, bruises on her neck. She looked like Eden, only sick and trampled down by the world. Who was she? He’d seen her before.
Is that what Eden would have become, had she lived?
He felt a wave of nausea, until Fiona placed a cool hand on his cheek.

“Tobias. Are you okay?”

His eyes snapped open. “Sorry. Some things just came back to me.” He wiped a hand across his brow. “My life here was never perfect, you know. Maybe I made it sound better than it was.”

“Maremount doesn’t have to be perfect. I just need you here.”

When she rested her hand on his cheek, his pulse raced, and his eyes took in everything: the gentle curve of her neck, the sharp, dark eyebrows, her lips slightly parted. He’d been with plenty of girls before, but no one had ever made him feel the way she did—as if he’d been walking around half asleep, until her presence roused him to find a world teeming with life.

He kissed her, and when his arms encircled her, he was struck by how delicate she seemed, her body so small. Her fingers roamed into his hair, and he kissed her softly, his tongue brushing hers. Elation transported him. He was finally home.

F
lanked by Mariana and Alan
, she stared at the King’s bare feet trailing over the flagstones. Thomas and Oswald were dragging him through the hallway in his nightgown. After the werewolves had overpowered the remaining Throcknell guards, Thomas had raided one of their rooms for iron collars, and one now encircled her father’s neck, totally suppressing his magic.

Mariana touched Celia’s arm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” she said shortly.

“You don’t feel a little sorry for him?” asked Alan.

It was hard to rejoice in the pathetic display. She stared as her father’s large feet thumped down the cold, granite steps. Tearing into a furious rant, spit flew from his mouth. “I am a direct descendant of Borgerith! The gods’ blood flows in my—unhand me, you animals!”

There was a time when his roar would have made her tremble, but now she just wanted to look the other way in embarrassment.

She needed to remember everything he’d done: He’d murdered her mom. He’d withheld medicines and education from the Tatters. He’d tortured countless people, Oswald among them. She should feel victorious.

Instead, as she watched Oswald and Thomas throw him into a cell, she felt only a twinge of bitterness for the man who’d once ruled the kingdom with an iron fist. It didn’t bring her any joy to watch his red-faced tirade when Oswald locked the door to his cell.

She had an uncomfortable feeling he would die in there, ranting to the walls and the rats.

When Balthazar was secured in the Iron Tower, Thomas guided her and Oswald through the winding stairwells and tunnels, retracing the escape route he’d discovered weeks ago. Through the stone walls, she could hear shouts and breaking glass. All over the castle, wolves roamed wild, tearing through armories and banquet halls, leaving their mark on all the pointless, expensive crap that decorated the fortress.

A part of her hoped they’d tear the place down. Nothing good had ever come from these walls.

Just outside a wooden door, Thomas turned to them. “Celia’s old room. You all can rest in here.” He pushed open the door. Moonlight streamed in through the large windows that overlooked her bed. Celia sucked in a breath at the eerie familiarity of the place. So much had changed in the few weeks since she’d last been here, trapped as a prisoner.

Alan looked around. “Beautiful place. Don’t suppose you get WiFi here?”

She shook her head. “I’m afraid not.”

Thomas rubbed his face. “I can’t believe we made it. It doesn’t seem real. Just weeks ago, I was lying here riddled with the plague. Oswald was completely broken on the stairs. Everything that’s happened since March…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “I was lost before. I want to think I’m not lost anymore.”

She shrugged. “You’ve got us.”

“I’ve got you,” he agreed with a smile. “And we’ve got work to do.”

Mariana crossed her arms. “What, like figuring out who the hell is going to run the city after the werewolves finish breaking shit?”

“Pretty much.”

“We just need to sort out a few centuries of oppression and class warfare,” said Alan, frowning. “No big deal.”

“There’s the Ragmen,” said Oswald, unconsciously tracing his fingers over his scars. “They’re already leaders among the Tatters. And most of Maremount is Tatters.”

Celia frowned. “They don’t have any experience in the city. They live out in the woods. You can’t lock up all the nobility.”

Oswald glared. “At least the Ragmen—”

“Guys,” Thomas cut in. “We don’t have to sort this out now. I’m going to come find you in the morning.”

Celia’s eyebrows shot up. “Where are you going now?”

He paused to look at his fingernails, suddenly avoiding their eyes. “I was going to meet Cadonia. See how she’s doing.”

Celia frowned. “The crazy one with the squirrel?”

He looked affronted. “Chipmunk, actually. She’s very nice. And I’m not sure that any of us are in any position to judge other people for being crazy.”

She sighed. “Whatever makes you happy, Thomas.”

“I’m glad you approve.”

She ignored the sarcasm in his tone, smiling as he took off out the door.

Mariana bit her lip. “Are there more rooms nearby?”

“For what?” asked Celia.

“Um, we kind of thought you two might want to be alone,” said Alan.

Have we been that obvious?
Blushing, she pointed to a door. “Through there. First door on the right. And I’m guessing you two also want to be alone.”

“Whatever.” Mariana waved a hand awkwardly as they left.

The door closed, leaving Celia with Oswald in the room where they’d first met weeks ago. He crossed to the windows, pressing his hand against a pane.

She sidled up to him, feeling a thrill when his skin brushed hers. “What are you looking for?”

“I can’t see it from here,” he said.

“Can’t see what?”

“The House of the Swan Ladies.”

Gross.
“The brothel? Why are you looking for that?”

“My mother lived there.”

A lump rose in her throat, and she slipped her arm around Oswald’s back. “What happened to her?”

“She died. Plague and something that made sores on her skin. Tobias doesn’t remember her. It’s what would have happened to Eden, if she’d lived.”

“What makes you so sure Eden would have ended up there? Don’t you think she would’ve married Tobias if Rawhed had never come here?”

“I don’t think Tobias would’ve stayed with her. He loved her, but not enough. Not like he loves Fiona.” He pulled her closer, his skin warm beneath his thin shirt. “Girls like her had no other options. That’s why we need to change the whole kingdom.”

There was plenty to talk about, but she wanted to know more about Oswald—this strange and beautiful man who’d showed up broken on her doorstep not that long ago. “What about your dad?”

“Dead. Drank himself to death.” He cocked his head. “I’m not sorry about that one.”

She understood now why he’d kept the scar on his chest. “The Ragmen are your family.”

He shot her a faint smile. “We may let you join us. I wouldn’t mind having a princess in our ranks.”

Oddly, she felt honored. “But who would we fight against? The King is defeated.”

“Maybe we don’t need to fight. Maybe we could just… learn magic to the Tatters. Like Tobias’s father does.”

“We should build schools.”

“I’m hoping that can also wait until tomorrow.”

But her mind swirled with possibilities. “We need to make a new Maremount, with a new government, and public schools.”

“Like pennyworts have.”

“Right. How hard can it be?”

He arched an eyebrow. “Do you have experience with that sort of thing?”

“I was head of the prom committee.”

He ran his fingers through her hair. “We might need a little help from Thomas and the Ragmen.”

“I can help them choose some nobles to work with the Tatters. They’re not all bad. No one person should rule. Think of how crazy each one of us is. Even Thomas. You put one person in power, and all of their crazy explodes over the whole kingdom. We need a whole group to keep each other in check. And we should build a new center for government. Like, one that doesn’t have torture chambers.”

His thumb stroked her cheek. “And how will Tatters be included in your vision?”

She edged closer, sliding her arms around his neck. “I have some pretty vivid ideas about one of them, but if he wants representation, he’ll have to keep me satisfied.”

A flicker of a smile crossed his lips as he leaned down and kissed her slowly, pulling her against him. She had the strongest desire to spend the rest of her life learning everything she could about him. But mostly, she wanted to know exactly what made him happy.

She glanced at the bed. “This is where we first met.”

“I knew then you wanted me.”

“That is so romantic. Are you always going to be this cocky?”

“Your beauty struck me as well.”

She grinned. “A compliment! I’ll have to kiss you more often.”

He lifted her, carrying her to the bed. “You’ll get no complaints from me.”