Then We Fly

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Then We Fly Page 28

by Rebecca Salas


  “Like what?”

  “Your face.” He voice was chipper and hopeful.

  “No!” Dylan interrupted, no longer content to sit by and watch my dealings from the side. He swallowed audibly. I wondered if he was trying to keep from retching like I was. The image that filled my mind at her suggestion was disturbing.

  “I don’t think that would really work. I—I need my face.” How did she think that would work?

  A confused smile lit her ghastly features. “You would get it back. When you return.”

  “It’s fine, Cora. We’re fine. Fayre and I can wait here until you get back.” Fayre nodded her assent from her position shielded behind Dylan, her hands wrap possessively around his arm. She looked like a frightened deer, eyes wide and ready to bolt at the slightest of movements, and by her grip on his arm, it looked like she planned on dragging Dylan along with her if necessary. There was something going on there. I sighed.

  “Ok.” I said and Dylan’s eyes went as big as Fayre’s. I held my hand up in a calming gesture and he closed his mouth and kept whatever he was about to say to himself. “I’ll leave them, but I need your assurance that they will be taken care of, fed and all that.”

  Nahwai nodded, a hint of disappointment in her smile. It was less toothy now, and I preferred it that way. She raised her hand, a last wistful gesture toward my face before pulling back. I held my place, determined not to show how I felt.

  “Off you go then.” She flicked her fingers in a dismissive gesture.

  {MISSING SYMBOL}

  Fynn paced on the dock waiting for me when I pulled the boat in. His mouth twisted in an anxious smile. Without a thought I wrapped my arms around his neck, happier than I had imagined at seeing him again. His hands found their way around my waist as he hugged my tight.

  “I’m glad you’re back.” He spoke into my hair.

  “Same.” I said as I released him.

  “Ready?” He asked holding me at arm’s length, appraising. A gleam of excitement in his eyes.

  “Of course she isn’t.” Oran’s voice got through my ogling of Fynn and I turned to where he had popped out from behind a line of trees. “Look at her,” he gestured a hand over my body, “She’s been at sea for days, give the lady a chance to rest for a moment.” He was next to me now, taking my hand and kissing it with a sincerity that made me blush to have Fynn right there watching. Fynn raised an eyebrow, his eyes on where Oran still held my hand like a lifeline, but he didn’t say a word. He tore his gaze away from our hands to look me in the eyes, waiting.

  “No, I’m alright.” I stammered, “I don’t want to keep Dylan waiting any longer than necessary.”

  “Cora,” Oran’s tone was gentle, but pleading, “It’s alright to put yourself first.” He neared as he spoke until I could feel his breath against my cheek. From behind him, Fynn let out an impatient sigh.

  “Thanks, but I can rest while Fynn drives. It’ll be alright.” It was Oran’s turn to look annoyed as he turned his gaze on Fynn.

  “Do I need to remind you to be careful with her?” A note of menace in Oran’s otherwise smooth voice. Fynn rolled his eyes.

  “She can take care of herself.” When Oran’s stiff posture didn’t ease, Fynn continued. “Of course, I will be careful.” And nodded a stiff bow to Oran. Oran released my hand, that he had been holding behind his back while facing Fynn, with some reluctance.

  “Good.” He picked up and held out a basket that I hadn’t noticed him bring when he had snuck up on me. “I had hoped for a chance to sit with you, but as you are determined to head out right away,” he placed the basket in my hands, his fingers wrapped around mine where I gripped the handle, his sea green eyes searching for something in mine, “take this, at least, and think of me.” He winked, on the side that would let Fynn see exactly what he was doing. It significantly detracted from the gesture. I gave him a tight smile and a nod. I turned quickly, hoping to avoid further awkwardness. From the edge of my vision, I caught sight of Fynn jumping gracefully into the boat after me, a teasing grin on his face. Looking back Oran stood stiff on the dock as we pulled away. Fynn pulled us away from the dock quickly and I looked out to sea. I could feel Oran’s gaze on my back for a long time. And when I did turn back, we were far enough out to see that the dock was only a small spot in the distance, I let out a breath that I hadn’t realized I was holding and the tension in my shoulders relaxed.

  “Cora,” his tone was soft and appealing, “are you alright?” I nodded and turned back to him. He had a patient smile on his face, his earlier confidence gone. “You know it’s all that spell, right?” Again, I nodded, but my brow furrowed. It must be. Though the thought of it being entirely fake hurt a little. Oran’s manner wasn’t doting it was… desperate. The image of his face when in his dream, burned by the sun and looking at me like I was water came to my mind. His apparent need for me was an overwhelming thing.

  Fynn reached out and gently took my chin in his hand, stroking his thumb along my jaw. His eyes intent.

  “There’s something I should have told you a while ago, Cor.” He took my hand leading me to a bench to sit and looked at my face, considering. “Would you like a nap. Oran was right, you do look beat.”

  Yea, because “there’s something I should have told you a while ago” wouldn’t keep me awake at all.

  “I’m fine.” I lied. “What is it?” His expression constricted, hinting at some internal conflict.

  “That song. The one that Oran sang the night he made a complete idiot of himself; I wrote it.” His words came out in a rush. I wasn’t entirely surprised, hadn’t I already associated that song with Fynn in my head, and he’d told me once before, when I thought my dreams of him were just dreams.

  “Ok.” I said waiting for whatever came next. Fynn ran his hand through his messy brown hair. “When he sang it to you there were two different things being conveyed. One was my feelings, the ones I had put into the song, and the other was what Oran had been hoping to convey to you, or rather what he was hoping to make you feel. If he had succeeded, you would have ended up sincerely in love and desperately needy at the same time. But you,” his mouth quirked up into a half smile while he looked down at his hands in his lap, “You, Cora Reed, are not what they think you are. And that mix of sincere and insincere emotions bounced right back at him and now that’s how he’s stuck.”

  “Do you think it’s permanent?”

  “Well, it’s not going to wear off on its own, that’s clear now.”

  “But, no. Why would it just bounce? Wylie, he was able to manipulate me. Then there’s Violet, I’m fairly sure she could too. I’m not some sort of magically reflective surface.”

  “No, you’re right, but my song was never intended to be manipulative. It was just, my own feeling written into it. Those feeling wanted to stick to the singer, and you did the rest. Beyond that, you have still been growing into your abilities, I wouldn’t be surprised if one day you are immune to all of the mer magic.”

  I sat thoughtful, trying to ignore the bit of jealousy that had tried to worm its way into my heart at the idea of whomever Fynn had written the song for.

  “I can do something new.” I blurted out, without taking the time to decide if it was safe to tell him. If I couldn’t tell Fynn, there wasn’t anyone who I could trust. “I can...” What exactly would you call it? “I can change my shape?” It was more of a question than a statement. Fynn’s eyes brightened.

  “So cool right?”

  “What?” His easy acceptance surprised me. “Did—did you know?”

  “Yea, I did.” He said with a chuckle.

  “How?” My voice rose in exasperation.

  “Dorian wouldn’t have kept it a secret from me, even if you had asked.”

  “What does Dorian know?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

  “The wings, he saw you sprout them when you were riding horseback. Did you think he wouldn’t notice?” He seemed confused now.

  “I didn’t notice.” Sur
e, I had thought of flying and I had loved the speed, but I didn’t think I had actually sprouted wings. Fynn’s smile was apologetic as he patted my hand. “So, what, I can just sprout any appendage I want? That doesn’t sound like an ondine thing.”

  “It’s not. You get that from your dad.”

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  Chapter Thirteen

  Cora

  “What do you mean my dad?” I almost laughed. “I thought you knew humans pretty well, Fynn. Humans don’t sprout fins on a whim.”

  “No humans don’t. nor do they generally see the future or slip into other people’s dreams, but your father wasn’t a human, Cora.”

  I eyed him intently trying to decide if this was some strange joke. He didn’t have any reason to lie. Not that I knew.

  “While I am admittedly exhibiting some strange abilities recently, that doesn’t automatically make my dad something other than human.” The familiar twinge of pain came with talking about my dad, but it wasn’t as painful now as it had been before. I thought that maybe I would like to talk about him. To think on some of the happy instead of all the sad.

  Fynn wrapped his hand behind his neck and held it there. “It’s not a guess Cora. I know your father.” Knew, I thought. “He’s… he didn’t…” I held my breath, waiting for him to finish. “He had to keep secrets from you Cora. There are people who would have used you against him. He didn’t want you to be a pawn. He can see more than you.” Fynn seemed like he was floundering.

  “Just spit it out!” I lost my patience with his nonsense. I grabbed his hand that was reaching up to run through his hair, yet again. “What are you saying Fynn? How is it that you knew my father?”

  “Know. Cora, I know your father. I saw him a few days ago.” His black eyes looked into mine and his expression fell. “He’s not dead, Cora. He didn’t die. He had to fake it to keep you and your brother safe.” I dropped his hand, angry and frustrated.

  “And he’s been hiding from me, but he hangs out with you?” I snapped and stood up. Turning to walk away I was annoyed now at the small size of the boat. My only escape was overboard, and I wasn’t going swimming yet. Reaching the furthest edge of the small boat I turned on my heel to face Fynn again, my crossed arms a physical barrier between us.

  “I’m sorry. I’m not doing this right.” His expression was pained, but I didn’t hide the scowl on my own. “Your father isn’t who you think he is. He’s much more than human. And he isn’t dead Cora. You can wait for his explanation, but I’m not sure how long that will be in coming. He can see the future, like you, but better, clearer, more reliably. He saw things coming to you and your brother that could only be avoided if certain people thought he was dead.”

  “Certain people?” I snapped again. “Certain people meaning me and my brother who got the unique pleasure of attending his funeral and mourning his death?” I was yelling now, not bothering to hide my anger. “And what? You’ve known this whole time and were content to keep this information to yourself? How kind of you to tell me know now!” Now, when I was finally coming to terms with it. Fynn’s eyes were lined in red.

  “I couldn’t.” His words were barely audible over the din of the waves. “If you had known, you would have been in danger, that’s—that’s what he said. The only way to keep you safe was to keep you ignorant.”

  “So, what now? Is my safety no longer important?” I ignored the other possibility, that now it was safe to tell me for whatever reason. I wanted to be angry. “And why the hell would you get to know any of this? What makes it that my father would trust you more than me?” There it was. With those words my anger came crashing like a wave and all that was left was grief. I had stopped arguing with the truth of it in my mind, and with acceptance came the crushing sense of abandonment, insecurity and heartbreak. Why? I hadn’t seen Fynn step to my side through the tears that now streamed down my face. I held my hands over my face while I wept.

  Fynn’s arms wrapped around me and while a minute ago I would have pushed him off the damn boat, now— now I just let him hold me while I cried.

  “Why, Fynn?” The words were choked on my sobs.

  Fynn’s tone was gentle in my ear. “I’ve known your father for an awfully long time, but to me he was Proteus. To me he was practically a god. My first allegiance has always been to him, as with all selkies. When he had to go into hiding, he asked me to watch out for you. To keep you safe. I’ve done a pretty awful job of it. And you can know now because it doesn’t matter anymore.” He brushed my hair out of my face and over my shoulder, his gentle fingers wiping the tears from my face. “There isn’t any safety to be gained by keeping you in the dark anymore.”

  “Then why isn’t he here now? Why isn’t he the one telling me this?” The image of having him there to hold me sent me into another fit of sobs.

  “There are still people who would do you harm if he came out in the open. I don’t pretend to understand what he sees and all of the possible outcomes. As a general rule, I do what he tells me. It’s why some people in King Byron’s court don’t trust me. They know that selkies are loyal to Proteus. If they knew how closely I worked with your father I wouldn’t have the access that I do. No one in the king’s court can know. Oran doesn’t know, the king definitely doesn’t know.”

  “Will I get to see him again?” I tried to straighten, wiping tears from my red face.

  “Yes, soon I think.”

  “So why didn’t you just wait? Let him be the one to tell me?”

  “Because,” he said, his eyes trying to convey some important meaning “when you see him again, you will likely have to act like you don’t know him. Things are still fluctuating, they may change, but that is the most likely possibility. So, your father thought it would be better for you to find out sooner than later.”

  “I saw him. I thought it was a dream, but I think it was really him. He tried to tell me, but I thought...”

  “Which is why I am the one telling you and not him. He saw that you wouldn’t believe him in a dream, and he can’t be here in person. Not yet.” Fynn pressed his forehead to my own. My mind spun through a whirlwind of emotions. I was happy, and angry, and anxious, and part of me wanted to punch something, possibly Fynn. I wanted to jump out of my skin. I needed to move.

  Wings. I wanted wings. And now I knew that I could have them if I wanted to. So, I did. And with an innate understanding that made no logical sense I jumped into the air and flew into the sky. Leaving Fynn behind me on the boat. I wouldn’t come back for a while. Dylan was likely making out in a cell with Fayre. He could wait. They could all wait.

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  Chapter Fourteen

  Fynn shifted awkwardly while Nahwai ran her tentacles lazily around his ankles. It might not be fair, but I enjoyed watching him squirm. She ran her fingers contentedly over the pearl’s smooth surface, a villain stoking her cat, while she offered Fynn her most alluring smile. Revealing every one of her decaying teeth. I could tell it was a struggle for him to hold his place under her hungry gaze. While before it had made me want to vomit, now I wanted to laugh. Fine, my father’s secrets weren’t his fault, but I wasn’t above being petty at the moment.

  “This will work perfectly.” She sang, her eyes caressing Fynn’s every inch of exposed skin. She bit a cracked lip between her discolored broken teeth, a flirtatious gesture gone horribly wrong. “Naturally you must stay to see what I can do with it.”

  “Oh we—”

  “Would love to.” I cut Fynn off, enjoying his discomfort entirely too much. Nahwai winked at Fynn a suggestive smile on her wrinkled and blotchy features. She turned away and Fynn visibly relaxed beside me. Placing the pearl on a pedestal she rummaged through her cupboards pulling out various vials and muttering to herself in a sing-song voice. Returning to the pedestal she continued to mutter as she poured out the colorful contents over the pearl, they ran heavy over the surface of the pearl. Liqu
id, but thicker, distinct from the water around us. The jewel toned mixture pooled in a little trough that encircled the pearl.

  Dipping her fingers into the substance, she scooped it up and began to pour it over her wiry gray hair. The concoction poured down her hair and face in rivulets, everywhere it touched skin smoothed and her complexion evened out into a smooth purple. Her gray coarse hairs curled into large plum-colored locks. The wrinkles disappeared, the cracks in her lips filled, and her scrawny figure filled out into graceful curves. My eyes were wide, fixed on the miraculous transformation, she still had an air about her that made me want to look away, but what I saw was beautiful.

  She ran a hand down her own figure, evaluating. She seemed contented and beamed a wide smile, the teeth in her mouth were still decaying, and I stifled a grimace, but she had noticed. Her lips turned into a delicate pout. Scooping the last of the mixture into her hands, she poured it into her mouth, swishing it around before swallowing. Smiling again her teeth were straight, white, and pointed to sharp points and she ran her tongue along the tips with apparent pleasure. The most astounding thing was that the feeling around her changed. Where before the mere proximity to her was nauseating, now, she had a soothing presence. I found myself wanting to stay near her despite the menacing teeth.

  She eyed Fynn again, reaching out an elegant purple finger to run down Fynn’s bicep. Where before I had enjoyed his discomfort, now a spark of jealousy burbled up. I fought the desire to smack her hand away. Nahwai’s smile was beatific.

  “Well, it looks like it worked. Will you fill your end of the bargain?” I asked impatiently. Her smile fell slightly. She narrowed her eyes at me, and then her eyes widened.

 

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