So be it.
The only thing that mattered to him was keeping everyone safe. He’d gotten his crew into this. By the gods, he’d get them out, whatever it took.
And if the dragons wanted to follow …
The Adoni Fey had their own special breed there that would be waiting to swallow them whole.
Screams filled his ears as his men were sucked through the swirling darkness and carried away from the realm they’d known and into that of his grandfather’s people.
God help us all.
Devyl had no idea what kind of reception they’d receive upon arrival. What they would find waiting on the other side. It was forbidden to do what he’d done. He wasn’t technically one of his grandfather’s people anymore, and his mother had brought them all into a war that had caused every one of them to be cursed.
Aye, this most likely wasn’t going to end well for him.…
He just hoped he was the only one who suffered for his rash decision.
Suddenly, he stopped falling and landed hard against a solid surface. With a fierce groan, he opened his eyes to find himself in a strange meadow. All around them was purple wheat that seemed as if it had a mind of its own.
He glanced about to make sure everyone was here. While most of them had regained their feet, there were a couple who’d been wounded and had decided that sprawled flat upon the ground was more their suited style at present. Their repose was punctuated by unctuous moans and complaints—mainly against him and their concerns about his current mental state. Even more about the state of his parents’ marriage at the time of his birth.
Not that he blamed them. First, he was beginning to doubt his own reasoning skills. Because, face it, he was the one what brought them here.
Secondly, he’d like to stretch out himself. Damn for being captain and having to set an example. Times like this, he was tempted to promote Death or Meers to his position.
If only he could follow orders.
And speaking of those incapable of listening to others, Mara approached him with a stern countenance he was sure had terrified lesser men. It was so fierce, it even shriveled a bit of his own personal anatomy. “You’ve brought us to Alfheim? Are you mad? Answer me honestly, is there any semblance of sanity left inside you at all? Or did that knock on the head from Gadreyal spill it all out?”
“I thought it the safest place from your sister.”
“And what about the ship?”
No doubt it was at the bottom of the ocean by now. He just hoped Santiago and his crew didn’t follow it down to the locker. Hopefully, they’d seen enough to know to stay back, and as far away as possible. Since Devyl hadn’t seen even so much as a sail from them during the fighting, he was praying it meant that Rafe’s mother’s magick had kept his crew shielded from all the hell that had rained down on them.
“Warned you to separate yourself from it.”
“Aye,” she said with a note of hysteria in her voice. “That you did. Had I known it was for this bit of lunacy, however, I’d have refrained. Just to…”
Her voice trailed off as she glanced over his shoulder to see something in the distance. The color washed out of her face as her eyes widened.
What the bloody hell now?
More than a bit irritated, Devyl turned to face whatever fresh pandemonium was heading for them. And it was pandemonium indeed.
He winced the moment he saw the approaching horsemen and the standards that adorned them. Though in theory they weren’t demons, there wasn’t much difference between the two breeds. In fact, he’d rather deal with a demon than these particular cod dangles.
The irony that they still used his mother’s family symbol of a tree and bird, white on black, wasn’t lost on him.
With hair as white as snow and darker skin that fair glistened in the mystical sunlight of the realm, they were more beautiful than any creature ever spat out of the universal abyss.
And more loathsome and corrupt.
These were the Adoni. Known as fair elves to much of the world, they were the bane of Devyl’s existence, as was evidenced by the male’s name, which said it all about not only the Adoni, but the character of this particular bastard’s family.…
Flaithrí Álfljótrsson.
Álfljótr, meaning “ugly elf” or “horrible” or “treacherous.” That had been his father’s name, hence the “-sson” added to the end of it. The mere fact a mother had given such a moniker to her child also spoke volumes about their family dynamics and why Devyl was such a bastard himself, given that the same blood flowed through his veins.
