Witches of the Deep (The Memento Mori Series #3)

Celia slumped in a chair, her appetite gone. So maybe Fiona was trying to be a hero and save Thomas, but why did she have to offer herself as tribute? Why not pay the pirates to take Estelle? They obviously liked gold. At least the wolf queen would have a fighting chance, and surely no one would miss her.

Atop her table, Estelle pulled off her antlers, a smile brightening her face. Things had worked out well for Dogtown’s leader. She’d protected her pack, and gotten rid of her nemesis at the same time. The Queen placed her hands on her hips, staring at the harbor. “Well. That’s over. Cornelius and a few others are working to raise the veil again. Luckily for us, no other intruders have come through. The rest of you, drink and enjoy yourselves. I’m going to make sure our bat friend is boarding the ship.” She hopped off the table, springing into her wolf form.

Celia felt sick, and she looked to Tobias for help. His body was rigid; she could tell he was fighting the impulse to run after Fiona.

The wolves of Dogtown had shifted back into their human bodies, none overly concerned with Fiona’s kidnapping. Just another day in Dogtown, losing a seventeen-year-old girl to the pirates. Her hands shaking, Celia reached for the ladle in a bowl of dire drink, filling her rough wooden cup to the brim. A little oblivion was in order.

She was beginning to see a pattern in things. And the pattern was that everything good had to die. She emptied the cup in one long slug, and it burned her throat going down.

When she was Queen of Maremount, she would keep her friends close, safe in the fortress walls. She’d imagined Fiona there with her, but that idea was just shot to hell. She refilled her drink, fighting back tears. Being powerless was infuriating. She drained another cup.

Wiping a trembling hand across her mouth, her mind flashed with visions of blood. Blood on the cobblestones, blood staining the ocean crimson. Somewhere nearby, Tobias was arguing with Alan and Thomas, but she tuned them out. Just more talk. If Tobias wanted to get Fiona back, he’d have to fight a whole ship of sea demons. Those weren’t good odds, even for him.

Only Oswald remained by her side. He shot her a sharp look. “You’ll be fuddled as a rat if you keep emptying your cup like that.”

“Who cares?” She filled her cup again.

She could remember the pictures of Dagon in children’s books. Tall and thin, almost human, but with long, clawlike fingers. Tentacles swirled from his head, and sharp, pointed teeth crowded his mouth, plus a long tongue. Sometimes he appeared as a woman, covered in sea foam and barnacles, but with eyes like a murky abyss.

Something brushed her shoulder, and she jumped. It was Thomas, trying to call her attention. “Cadonia told me there might be some sort of trial. If Fiona can defeat it, she has a chance. The werewolves have seen it in Estelle’s cauldron. At least one person from Dogtown has survived.”

Her head swimming, Celia gripped the edge of the chair. “At least one? That’s it? So, she’s probably going to die. And we’re all just going to sit back and let it happen.”

Thomas sighed. “We have no choice. If it were possible to fight the Picaroons, the werewolves would have done it long ago.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Do you have any idea how many people are trying to kill us now? Just because we’ve found respite here, doesn’t mean we’re safe. You know that, right?”

She felt the ground wobbling beneath her, but she rose, pushing past Thomas to find Mariana. Mariana had been recovering, slowly regaining her strength, but didn’t quite seem herself. Even so, she needed to know what had just happened.

Cold wind kissed Celia’s arms as she staggered over the common, trying to steady her footing on the rocky path. Fiona, you idiot. What were you thinking?

She cursed her own lack of power. A Throcknell princess should know magic well enough to make a whole ship of Picaroons tremble. An heir to the Maremount throne should have gotten the best education Sortellian College had to offer. If she hadn’t been deprived of her rightful inheritance, she probably could have struck the four sea demons dead on the spot.

Unless Fiona wanted to go with them. Celia’s mind raced, trying to pick apart her friend’s insane behavior.

A soft touch on her arm nearly made her jump out of her skin. Whirling, she knocked into Oswald. “What are you doing here?”

“The Picaroons have lowered the veil. If any of the Throcknells’ men are still around, they’ll fly usward. Do you think it’s wise to stagger around in the dark by yourself, beer-sick, when half the world wants us dead?”

“What? Who cares? Do you think it’s ‘wise’ to sacrifice yourself to a sea god? Do you think it was ‘wise’ to murder Asmodeus and bring down the full force of the Throcknell empire on us? Do you think it—”