Page 10 of Vanquished Gods

The stately trees arched over our path, and mist slipped between the boughs.

“Can I stay in the castle?” Leo asked, staring up at it. “It looks amazing. I want to be with the vampires.”

Sion quirked a smile. “A boy with good taste.”

“No,” I said sharply.

“I want fangs,” Leo added. He prodded at his tooth with his tongue. “Look! My tooth is ready to come out. Do child vampires lose their teeth?”

Sion whirled, and his gold eyes danced with amusement. “See? It’s fate. I can see it already.” He pulled what looked like a large adult tooth from his pocket. “It seems I didn’t even need to pull this tooth from the thrall.”

He tossed it into the air. Instinctively, I caught it before looking down with horror at the molar in my hand. “What thehell,Sion?”

He turned, marching again, leaving me standing with a freaking tooth in my hand. “It’s payment for the Keeper of Relics. These are the remnants she keeps. She’s a fae. You know how they are.”

My blood roared. I aways thought fae were mythical. But what the hell did I know? Because I’d been completely oblivious about the vampires all this time. Who knew what else I believed to be myth was, in reality, true. “I have no idea what fae are like. Merry and tempting?”

He huffed a laugh. “Not exactly. They always tell the truth, but they are generally revolting, grotesque creatures. She’s going to ask if you are, in fact, the very Underworld Queen she’s been banging on about, and the fae always demand some kind of payment for their truth telling. And this fae likes to keep teeth.”

“Right.”

He cut me a sharp look. “You don’t have any iron on you, do you? She will try to murder us all if she senses iron. It’s poison to the fae.”

“I left my iron battleaxe back in the cottage.”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking.” He glanced at me again. “And I can’t tell if I like the thought of you with a battleaxe.”

The mist thinned, and a ray of light burst through the clouds overhead.

At last, I saw where we were heading: a crooked cottage made of ivory, nestled onto a rocky promontory overlooking the sea. It gleamed with a faint golden sheen in the light. Something about the look of it made the hairs rise on the back of my neck.

Only as we walked closer did I realize what unsettled me about it.

The entirecottagewas made of human teeth.

Curling my lip, I looked down at the molar I still held in my palm. “You pulled this out of a thrall? How many times have you done this, Sion?”

He gave a lazy shrug. “You needn’t worry about that. I assure you, we don’t need to compel our thralls. They do what we ask willingly.”

“And why is that, exactly?”

He glanced at me, gold eyes piercing. “Because they worship us, of course. And they want to be us.” His glanced at Leo. “Isn’t that right?”

“Don’t talk to him.”My fingers tightened around the tooth in my hand.

Sion used humans like toys.

He led us to an arched black door inset into the tooth house, and he turned back to look at me. “No sudden movements around the Keeper of Relics. And be respectful. She can be unpredictable.”

He pushed the heavy door open. The scent hit me first, like heavy soil, smoke, and rot. Then I saw a white-haired woman sitting at the table, and her milky-eyed expression sent a shudder over my skin. Pointed ears rose from her long, white hair, and she wore a silver crown to match her metallic robes. Littering the dirt floor were toothless skulls and silver coins. The fae’s skin was smooth as bone—all sharp cheekbones—and her black eyes made my heart skip a beat. I had a feeling she was as old as the island.

I tightened my grip on Leo’s hand, though I didn’t get the sense that he was scared of the Keeper of Relics. As she flashed me a toothless grin, she held out a hand. I took a step forward and dropped the molar in her palm. She clutched it tightly and pressed it against her chest.

“Let go of the child’s hand,” she said. Her voice was shockingly girlish, like a child speaking from an ancient body. “It’s not safe for you to hold his hand. Not with what might happen.”

I narrowed my eyes at her, but I dropped Leo’s hand.

She rose from her chair with a wry smile, picking up a pipe from the table. “The threads of fate weave our world. I will uncoil yours, yes?” She struck a match, and the embers in her pipe burned bright orange. She inhaled deeply, then blew acrid smoke in my face.

---