Page 34 of The Last Heir of Elsewhere

I let out an exasperated sigh. “At least tell me all the ways I could kill a fairy.”

Bael laughed, and I had to kick him under the table to remind him to keep his voice down. “Sorry, little monster,” he chuckled. “I just never thought you of all people would have to ask that.”

I felt a flush creep up my cheeks. He was right, of course. I was only sitting here now because I’d killed the most powerful Fae in Elsewhere with my bare hands, long before I ever consciously attempted to use any magic. I’d seen dozens of Fae die since, and killed a handful myself…but that had been mostly luck.

“I know about weapons from the source,” I said, somewhat defensively. “But there must be other ways that I don’t know about.”

“Why does it matter?” Scion asked, almost suspiciously.

I rolled my eyes. “Because despite my best efforts, you’re right. I am injured constantly, and perhaps the next time someone decides to shoot me with a crossbow, or lock me in a dungeon, or take on another face to creep into my room, the two of you won’t be there.”

They fell silent, and shared another of their infuriating silent glances. No one was laughing anymore, presumably because I was right. I needed to know every possible way to defend myself, as I’d inevitably use them all.

“First is as you just said,” Scion said finally. “Weapons forged in the source. Iron, steel, silver, it doesn’t matter as long as it came from the source forge.”

I glanced at the thin, pinkish line that still crossed the prince’s face. Only hours ago, it had been an open wound, but evidently I was not the only one to benefit from the effects of blood healing. Scion looked almost back to normal, though the pale scar remained, and I suspected it would always be there from now on. Still, the prince seemed nearly as uncomfortable as I’d ever seen him, and I remembered suddenly that he’d executed many people for the queen while in the military. Perhaps this was bringing up bad memories.

“Why don’t wounds from Source-forged weapons heal completely?” I asked quickly, hoping to give him something else to focus on.

“Because that’s the source of our magic,” Scion said, as if that was all the explanation needed.

I frowned. “Alright, what else?”

“Wilde magic in general,” Bael said. “Like the smoke at Aftermath that turned the Fae into the afflicted, or the afflicted themselves.” I opened my mouth again, but he answered my question before I could ask. “That’s for the same reason as the Source-forged weapons, and also why we say that the elderly have returned to the Source, if they choose to move on to the next life.”

I held up the fingers on my right hand, and put two down, as if I was counting down a list. “What else? Or are those the only ways?”

“Not the only ways, no,” Scion said heavily. “We can’t starve, freeze, suffocate, drown or bleed to death, but dismemberment or burning will eventually kill nearly anything. Beheading, also. There are not many creatures that can live without their heads.”

“There are also curses,” Bael said. “That’s probably what will get us in the end.”

From his tone, Bael meant the comment in jest, but I didn’t find it all that amusing. Nor, it seemed, did Scion, as all humor wiped off his face.

I quickly searched for something to say. “So, why don’t you take precautions? Ban source forged weapons or destroy the forge or…something, I don’t know.”

To my surprise, they both laughed, and I looked around quickly to make sure no one had heard.

“Because, little monster,” Bael said. “If we destroyed the source we’d all die. Anyway, getting run through by a Source-forged sword is a fairly uncommon way to go.”

“What’s the most common, then?”

“Magic drain,” Scion answered darkly, his eyes shadowing over again “Which is precisely what it sounds like. Magic, like any other skill, is finite. Like an athletic ability, even the most gifted magical practitioner will eventually hit their limit and grow exhausted. If any magical being exhausts themselves to the point of full depletion, they’ll die.”

I bit my lip. Was that something I needed to worry about? How did one know how much magic they had?

Like he read my mind, Bael reached out and put a hand over mine. “You’ll be fine, little monster. We wouldn’t let that happen to you.”

I shook my head. I wasn’t entirely sure how he believed he might prevent it from happening, especially if draining was common, but that wasn’t the point right now.

The point was, that for immortals, there certainly were a lot of ways to die, and for once in my life, I was worried about someone other than myself or my family.

If the rebellion continued coming after me, and if Ambrose Dullahan confronted Bael and Scion, I feared it could be the death of all three of them. I couldn’t let anyone sacrifice their life for me.

* * *

“Hope this is alright for you.”The barman stopped in front of a shabby wooden door at the end of the hall. “Since you’re on your own I put you farther away from the other guests.”

I bared my teeth in something between a smile and a grimace. “Thank you…I’m sure it will be fine.”

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