Then We Fly

by Rebecca Salas

“You liked me better like that?” It was an accusation. “Odd child. Yes,” she waved her had flippantly, “obviously.” A tentacle—those hadn’t gone anywhere—whipped out and opened the door to the cabin where we sat. Dylan and Fayre swam in wide eyed and slack jawed.

  Nahwai removed the pearl from the pedestal and returned it to Fynn. Eyeing him suggestively, she ran her fingers along his arms when he took the pearl from her and placed it back in the satchel, he had brought it in. He seemed almost as uncomfortable now as he had before, and I was somewhat mollified. She turned abruptly to face me, in a swift motion, before I had a chance to react, she whipped out a tentacle and ripped a few stands of hair from my head.

  “Ow!” I grabbed at the sore spot on my scalp and stepped back from her. Fynn took a step closer to my side. Nahwai simply shrugged and offered an insincere apologetic smile.

  She placed the strands onto the pedestal and pulled out new bottles of various murky colored liquids. She spoke quietly to herself, pouring them together. Last she pulled out a jar that looked like mud, she scooped some out and began mixing it cautiously with a long spoon, keeping her limbs all well back from the muddy mixture. Her whispering stopped and she pulled out a large paint brush and handed it to Dylan with a mischievous smile.

  “You can do the honors I think.”

  Dylan held the brush like it might bite and raised his eyebrows, an unspoken question to Nahwai. She turned her hand in an elegant gesture toward the puddle of brown goo. “Paint the offending appendage. And while he does,” she turned her smile on Fayre, “think of those pretty little legs.” She wiggled her fingers like a child casting a magical spell. “And pay particular attention to the number of toes.”

  Fayre shot a nervous glance down at Dylan’s bare feet, clearly counting. Her eyes were serious, and she nodded, blond hair billowing around her face with the motion. Dylan dipped the brush into the mud and approached Fayre cautiously.

  “You sure about this?” His voice was low, but I could still make out the words. Fayre ran her hands down her tail and fins, a parting gesture.

  “Yes.” She nodded, and her normally jovial demeanor was more serious than I had ever seen before. Fayre’s lip quivered, but her jaw was tight, teeth clenched. As Dylan began to paint her smooth silver tail, I saw his expression change; where he had been unsure now, he looked embarrassed. I wondered if perhaps I should leave.

  He continued to paint, and a thought occurred to me. I began looking around the room in something of a panic. Fayre wore only her gauzy top, if she was about to grow human appendages, she was about to become very exposed, with an audience. I wore a swimsuit under my shorts and I quickly slipped them off hurrying over to her side. I could feel Fynn watching me, unabashed.

  Dylan completed the job, painting mud over the last inch of Fayre’s fin. Her tail began to glow, and I froze in place, forgetting my mission. The light emitted grew brighter until I was left shielding my eyes. When it began to dim, my concerns came back into full view.

  Dylan’s eyes went wide, and he turned abruptly, cheeks blazing. I flung my hand out to Fayre, not looking down.

  “Nice legs.” I offered. “Now put these over the nice butt that goes with them.” Fayre looked back and forth between herself and the shorts, her lips pursed. “It’s pretty standard now that you’ve got the human appendages, that you’ve got to keep them mostly covered, most of the time.”

  Fayre shrugged.

  “Fine.” She took the shorts and toppled over herself, a small child trying to put on pants for the first time. I helped her up and turned back to see Fynn and Dylan who were both anxiously engaged in studying some crack in the cabin floor. “Well?” Fayre’s melodic voice chimed.

  Dylan and Fynn turned back now.

  “Very nice.” Dylan blushed again.

  Fynn’s eyes narrowed, flicking between Fayre’s feet and my own. A crooked smile forming on his lips.

  “Thank you.” Nahwai said, bringing the attention back to herself. “I think I did quite well. Now…” She held her, now elegant, hand out to me, palm open and expectant.

  Zoya

  It had come to the point where I was tracking Shea almost as much as he was keeping tabs on everyone else. I was sure of it now, that he was up to no good. I just didn’t know what direction that was taking. I could only assume he was doing Blake’s bidding. My heart broke a little more each time he slunk out of our room in need of “fresh air” or looking for a “book” in the library.

  He had so many excused now. But now I was at the point that I didn’t believe him when he said he needed to go to the bathroom. Sure, that’s what he could be doing, but I had no more trust in the man who I still loved. I hoped against all reason that he was under some spell, and I watched, waiting for my chance to break the control he was under.

  Today, as I looked over my mother’s list of ways to help prepare for the ball, my heart sank as I watched as Shea slip away to hover over a butler adjusting the guest lists. My man was many things: tall, gentle, kind, but not subtle. Blake must have been desperate to think Shea could really be a spy. Or that I wouldn’t notice his odd behavior. Or perhaps, part of me wondered if Blake knew so little of real relationships that he assumed that my love would be enough to blind me to Shea’s obviously odd behavior.

  And today I could bear it no longer. I had to confide in someone. My mother had never been against Shea like some of the others had been, I hoped that she would be understanding.

  “Mother.” I interrupted her explanation of the way she wanted the flowers arranged at each entrance.

  “Yes?” She smiled, unperturbed.

  Her gentle response was all the motivation I needed. In a soft voice that wouldn’t draw the attention of anyone nearby I went into the details of Shea’s odd behavior and my suspicions. She listened silently, nodding where needed and holding my hand, a look of concern on her face.

  “And you haven’t found confirmation of who is manipulating him?”

  The tension that had built up during my explanation, vanished with her words. She wasn’t doubting me, just looking for more information.

  “Not yet, but I will.”

  “Let’s walk to the fountain and I will place some mist in his eyes. Hopefully the spell he is under isn’t significantly stronger than I am, and it will help to clear some of the fog in his mind. And then, I will watch with you, and make sure nothing too important is said in front of him.”

  She wrapped my arm in hers and led us the short distance to the fountain where she had me call Shea over, under the pretext of asking his opinion about colored lights on the water. With a hand gesture that was barely a stretch of her fingers the spray of the fountain drifted on an imaginary wind and caught Shea in the face. He blinked and wiped thoughtlessly at it while he continued, unperturbed, to offer his opinion on the lighting choices.

  I prayed to whatever gods were listening, that it would be enough. That he might at least see clearly enough to keep himself out of danger until I could fix this.

  Cora—

  Coming back to myself I placed the lock of pink hair and feather into her hands. Clutching them, she turned away, but this time she did not go to her pedestal. Grabbing some wire and a piece of what looked like leather she bound the items together, long fingers working in smooth motions. A large glass jar sat inverted on her shelf, seemingly empty. Nahwai lifted it careful not to allow it to lean to one side or another, raising it above her face she pressed her lips through the opening. Breaking the tension between the water around and the air within the jar she sucked in a breath. She pulled away, her lips puckered and placed the jar tenderly back into place. Holding the charm in her open hand, inches from her lips, she blew a steady stream of air over it. Instead of forming quickly into a stream of bubbles floating to the surface, the air held together forming one large bubble. The charm inexplicably rose with it, hovering unsupported, at its center.

  Without breaking eye contact with the odd bubble, she gestured to me. “Touch it, Cor
a.” The words were a command. Gingerly, I extended one finger to the air bubble where it hovered over Nahwai’s hand. Fynn shifted closer toward me as I neared Nahwai. Pressing the bubble with my index finger felt like trying to press it into a piece of Jell-O, without warning the tension gave way and it popped, or rather the air dissolved into an impossible ball of flame for a brief moment before the water rushed in around it and the fire was replaced by a cloud of smokey bubbles that floated to the ceiling. The charm hovered for a moment before it began to sink through the water, I snatched it up before it glided to the floor. The charm seemed to hum where it lay, warm in my hand.

  “Hm.” Nahwai let out a soft sound. “That should do it.” She placed a hand on Fayre’s shoulder, ushering her and Dylan to the door, I followed behind. Before Fynn followed me out Nahwai placed a graceful hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “You don’t all have to go.”

  I kept my mouth closed with some effort and rubbed my eyes. Seriously, woman? Back off. A broad smile spread across Fynn’s face and Nahwai looked pleased, but I saw the slight heave of his chest. From my position at least, it looked like he wanted to laugh. Which was good, or else I might have smacked him up upside the head and dragged him out of there.

  “Forgive me,” he leaned in a tight bow, “I have other work to attend to.” Nahwai sighed, wistful.

  “Next time, then.” She held out her hand like she might try to touch him again.

  “Yea sure.” I said grabbing his hand and pulling him out behind me. To his credit he didn’t resist. To my annoyance, he did laugh. Once we were a comfortable distance from the shipwreck and Nahwai inside it, I released his hand, but he didn’t release mine.

  “Feeling a bit jealous?” He pulled me to a stop before we reached the surface and our boat, a teasing grin on his lips. My eyes rolled only a little. His smile widened, and he let out another small laugh. “I heard you, Cora.” I pulled my hand back from his now, covering my face. Sure, my eyes had been closed, but I hadn’t been trying to send anything to him. “Maybe you should work on being a little more careful with that.” He touched a finger against his forehead, but his smile was more conciliatory now.

  “Right.” I nodded and went back to swimming for our boat.

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  Chapter Fifteen

  King Byron’s castle was a hive of activity. People running this way and that carrying a flower arrangement one way a table the other. Long scarves of purple fabric were being unfurled over doorways and white flowers were being wound around every available surface. Ell’s heel clicked loud enough over the stone floor to be heard over the commotion. Warm light drifted in through the large windows along this corridor. She carried her clipboard close to her chest, a treasure to be guarded. Her sleek black bob bounced with each step.

  The ball was only tomorrow night and every preparation was being executed at a hurried pace. My nerves buzzed, a mixture of excitement and anxiety. Ell had already shown Fayre and Dylan to their rooms. Fayre had refused to be left behind now that she had her legs, and I couldn’t blame her. This was her first excursion above water.

  Her first steps on land had been comical, but not nearly as comical as her attempt at walking around on the boat’s small deck for practice. She had reminded me of a baby deer, all knees and feet as she slid this way and that on the unsteady surface. She was better on land. I would make a point to Ell about Fayre needing a pair of flats for the ball. No need to have her make her first attempt in front of a crowd in high heels.

  Foolishly distracted by what was ahead of me, I hadn’t told Dylan about Fynn’s news about our father. He had a lot to deal with, with Fayre. And I was still processing it. Or maybe avoiding it. I hardly knew what to do with it.

  But keeping it to myself was unfair to him. Tomorrow. First thing, I would tell him tomorrow.

  Ell hadn’t shown Fynn to a room, but he didn’t have time to be offended. As soon as we had made dock he had run off on some important business. So, I was left with Ell as we walked the halls and she showed me the preparations that were being made for the big soiree. King Byron and Queen Iolanthe were going beyond anything I had ever experienced. The kitchens had been too busy for us to even walk through. We had been shooed away almost as soon as we tried to pass through the bustle.

  Ell opened the door to my room for me, it was the same room where I had been placed before, and I appreciated the familiarity.

  “Cora!” Zoya squealed, bouncing off my bed and wrapping her arms around my neck. “Finally! My mother has had me here helping with the preparations for days. So much taste testing.” She rubbed her stomach absently. “I’m so bloated.” She squished up her face.

  “Yea, that sounds awful.” My sarcasm was unhidden. “All that fancy food.”

  “Mneh, I think the cook is off his game. Some of that food…” She held out her hand making a wobbling gesture. “Not my favorite. I can take her from here, Ell.” Zoya’s smile never faltered as she ushered Ell out of the room.

  “I’ll be by first thing in the morning. You both have jobs to do tomorrow.”

  “Sure, sure.” Zoya spoke while closing the door on Ell. “I really haven’t decided about her.” She let out a sigh and flopped on my bed.

  “Where’s Shea?” I asked. She waved in a dismissive gesture. “Probably testing more desserts.” She put her own air quotes on the word but seemed more annoyed than amused. “Ugh, I’m exhausted.”

  “You don’t have to stay just to entertain me.” I offered. “I can struggle through picking out a dress from Ell’s collection on my own.”

  Zoya scoffed. “Sure, you can.” She hopped up and began rummaging through the dresses that Ell had set in my closet, making noises either for or against each option. “Oooh!” She twirled around holding a steel gray floor length gown with a high neck and a trumpet skirt that flared at the knee. “This one!” I shrugged.

  “Sure.” I took the dress to try on.

  “See! You need me.”

  “Definitely.”

  “Now shower first.” She wrinkled her perky nose. “You smell awful.”

  After my shower I was declared clean enough and we spent the next three hours picking through the assortment of dresses and shoes that Ell had left in the room for me. There were enough choices to start a dress shop. When I finally finished trying on every one at Zoya’s insistence, while she ooo’d and ahhh’d but there was something off in her enthusiasm. Her usual bubbly attitude wasn’t there.

  Still I could tell that she was trying, and I tried as well. Both of us putting on an enthusiasm it seemed that neither truly felt. My anxiety was building. With the ceremony tomorrow, Blake didn’t have much time left to do whatever he was planning. Which meant my time to stop him was running out. At last everything was picked out and she left to go find Shea and I was left alone in my room, neither of us having discussed the real issues that were bothering us.

  Fynn

  Blake had already arrived at the castle when Cora and I got there. Which meant that there was no time to lose in sorting out the details of his plan. I had just met with King Byron and the guards who had been following Blake since his arrival. Thus far he hadn’t done anything remotely suspicious, which in itself raised my concerns. I could only imagine that meant that his plans were fully in place. At this point my only hope was that he could be delayed long enough that it would be too late for him to use Naida to gain Byron’s crown.

  I dipped into the shadowed alcove as another set of hurried steps passed by. The castle was a hive of activity in preparation for tomorrow. Even now, in the dark of night people bustled around carrying messages, decorations, furniture. I wasn’t sure what message King Byron was trying to send by the large stuffed seal that I had seen being carted down the hall, but I was fairly certain it wouldn’t get him any love from the selkies.

  Outside the castle walls I scanned the sky, watching for a flutter of wings. So far there had been nothing. Wherever Naida was hiding,
it didn’t appear that she had arrived at the castle—yet. At the base of a boulder along the path, I bent over and picked up a shell that was tucked away behind long grass. In a smooth motion I removed the note hidden inside and replaced the shell.

  The message would be gibberish to anyone who might stumble upon it, but to me the note was clear. Naida had been seen leaving Blake’s country house yesterday. Whatever the plan was, it was underway.

  Cora

  As I dreamt the wind whipped warm around Naida’s face, wrapping her hair in tangles while she flew through the night sky. I caught up to her silently, intent to simply watch her while we dreamed. The stars above us sparkled brightly and they seemed to emit a music of their own, a tinkling chime from each one. Focusing on the stars the music grew louder, but when I looked away it was quieter, a ringing in the background.

  Under the glow of the stars Naida’s speckled wings shimmered indigo. She seemed at peace for the first time since I started to see her in my dreams, content to enjoy the freedom of the night sky, the anonymity of the thing.

  “Will you follow me the whole way to the castle?” She asked. I turned, looking for who she could be talking to. “Yes you,” she said without turning around, “there’s clearly no one else here but you and I.”

  “I don’t see why not.” I answered. “The view is pleasant enough.”

  “Is it?”

  “I’ve never been flying at night.”

  “So, you have flown during the day?”

  “Once.”

  “Interesting. You are an odd creature, sneaking around like you are.” If she knew I was here with her in her dream, and as she seemed determined to talk to me, I might as well get what I could out of it. Perhaps this was what I should have done from the beginning.