Right.
“Do all fey have them?”
“No. They’re very special and very sacred.” His shoulders tensed, eyes unfocused as he scoured the lobby.
“You realize that I’m going to need more than that right?”
“Hold on a minute.” He seemed to find what he was looking for and pushed me softly into an empty room. Or closet. Most definitely a closet full of brooms and mops and bitter-smelling cleaners. “This isn’t exactly a conversation we should have in public,” he explained.
“Start explaining.”
“What’s on my neck is a brand. Fey get branded when they swear oaths of fealty to one of the four Gods. To swear fealty is extremely significant in the magical community. It’s also very powerful: like a double-edged sword and equally as deadly. On one hand, the God is required to protect you within reason, but you’re also required to back them no matter what. This was a much bigger deal back tens of thousands of years ago when bloody wars were more common. Now, though, they’re more…” he seemed to struggle with finding the right word, “symbolic.”
I didn’t interrupt, giving him time instead to gather his thoughts.
“Most fey already have natural allegiances. For example, I’m a kelpie, a creature of water. That means I’m already within the purview of the Water Temple. Pixies have wings and can fly. They naturally fit in with Air. So on and so forth. For most of us, that’s enough when it comes to choosing sides.
“But things can get tricky when a fey chooses to change sides or swear fealty to a different God. That only happens when that God has done something significant to or for them. It indicates they believe in their abilities more than those of the God with which they are naturally aligned. And even with creatures of the same court, swearing an oath is a huge deal because it means you will always stand with them.”
“Sounds dangerous,” I said.
His expression darkened and he nodded. “There are some fey—and humans—that are required to swear an oath. Typically, those are the people who serve within the temples themselves. It’s a requirement because the temples are… well, the temples are strange places.”
Something about his words resonated, but I let him continue, keen to know more.
“They are both of the Order and not at the same time. They answer to the politics of the Hand and the Council, but their first and primary loyalty is to their individual Gods. It’s super complicated to get into, but think of it like the relationship between states and the federal government: everyone answers to the same rules, but the states are much more concerned about their individual well-being than the well-being of everyone as a whole.”
I thought of back home. That made sense. “If the brand magically appears on fey, how does that work for humans?”
“They get it tattooed on.” He shrugged. “It’s considered holy and equally binding. To break that vow is sacrilegious.”
It was on the tip of my tongue to ask what made him decide to swear his oath, but something about the way he was staring at me told me to back off. I gave him a half-smile and fumbled for the door handle. “Thank you for explaining that,” I murmured softly, trying to make out the dark mark against his skin. Somehow, I felt better knowing he had it.
“You should start getting ready,” he said when we reemerged into the light of the hall. He forced a level of candor. “I’m interested to see if you’re as good in the water as they say you are.”
8
Zara
I was a muddled mess of thoughts as I pushed through the locker room doors, bee-lining for my assigned spot. My concentration for the meet was completely shot. Kaz had just come back from warm-ups and gave me a funny look as I scrolled through the combination to my lock, but I shrugged. Now wasn’t the time to talk about personal issues. She would ask me whatever was on her mind afterward.
I dressed quickly, the routine helping reset my brain and refocus my energy. I tugged on my favorite yellow swim cap and orange goggles before taking a quick dip in the warm-up pool to loosen my muscles. It felt good. It felt really good. Energy hummed in my veins, the water recharging parts of me I hadn’t known were tired.
I followed Kaz to join my teammates by the side of the pool and listened to the droning pep talk from our coaches. This was our second-to-last meet. After this was Denmark. Then I’d find myself back on a plane to New York and the brutal, mechanical training schedule that awaited. I enjoyed it—the competitive nature of my top-of-the-line school. We didn’t waste time on traditional learning. Instead, world-class trainers worked us to the bone, honing our talents, eliminating our weakness, and turning us into future champions. There would be more gold medals in my future. But all that time training didn’t leave much room for a social life, let alone opportunities to visit close family.
My heart lurched in my chest as I thought about the text message I’d ignored from my mother: call me when you get a chance, honey. There’s something we need to discuss.
This was it. They were finally getting a divorce; I knew it in my gut. It wasn’t particularly surprising. My mom and dad had been at odds for years. It traced all the way back to my childhood when Mom decided to fill me in on the fact that I was adopted. My father made it painfully clear he’d wanted to keep that particular detail a secret. It created a chasm that only expanded over time. That chasm only deepened when my dad made the decision to ship me off to school on the east coast without consulting my mom first.
Somehow, I was always stuck in the middle of their arguments.
Oh well. I didn’t have a phone anyway. That particular conversation would have to wait.
I looked out over the crowd, not surprised when I found Finn’s grass-green gaze on me. Or was it? He was glowering at someone over my shoulder, but when I turned to look, I only saw a gaggle of girls from the other team stretching their legs and gossiping. When he caught my attention again, his look lightened, and he shoved a handful of popcorn in his mouth. I could almost taste the buttery-goodness on my tongue. He lifted his other hand a bit and wiggled his fingers in a semblance of a wave. The man was impossible. I huffed and returned my focus to the coaches in time to put my hand in the middle and give our customary pre-game cheer.
Riley, with her ringing laughter and bold curves, was up first for the breast stroke. For a swimmer, those curves should hurt her odds, but somehow, she toughed through it. Only half my attention was on her setting up at the blocks when I heard snickering from the girls on the opposing team, sniping at her, gossiping about her weight.
“Hey! How about you worry more about choking on her wake when she smokes you?” I snapped. “Or better yet, try to actually get some nutrients from your next meal before you hawk it up again.”
Four faces snapped to me, but my coach pulled me back before they could respond. “Zara, enough. We’ve talked about this.” Admonishment washed over and past me. I couldn’t keep my mouth shut in the heat of the moment. It was a major strike against me and one my coaches still hoped to break me of.
No luck thus far.
I caught the flash of fingers from behind Coach’s back and shifted a bit, making an even cruder gesture right back. The girls sneered and tsked, then huddled up as the next race got underway.
Riley aced the breast stroke as expected.
A few more beeps of the starting buzzer before it was finally time for freestyle. I looked over at Finn in the stands again as he stuffed another handful of popcorn in his mouth. He must have gotten up for a refill given the speed I’d seen him packing it in earlier. Surprisingly, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the entire event. He caught me staring and winked, a huge grin spreading over his glistening lips.
I swung my arms a few times to loosen them up and mounted the block. Of the seven teams participating, the girl to my left was from the team that had picked on my teammate. Her features pinched when she looked in my direction. She was probably very pretty, but the nastiness turned her ugly. “Watch your back, slut,” she muttered in French, not l
ooking at me. It was probably something I wasn’t even supposed to have heard, let alone interpreted.
“Glad to know you’re cool with coming in second, since you plan on seeing my back and all,” I fluidly replied in the same language.
Her lips curled. I would have tossed my hair over my shoulder impishly if I could have. No such luck with the swim cap and all.
“You know what they say about counting chickens.”
“I’m not counting chickens. I already have the eggs.”
The guy over the loudspeaker called us to take our marks before she could respond, and we both stepped into position. The moment I looked out across the water, the conversation drifted away along with everything else swarming my mind. This was what I lived for: moments like these, just me and the water. I gripped the front of the white platform, the slick rim of water reassuring under my touch. I’d already shut out all other sound, the lapping of water, the rustle of the crowd, the whooping of my teammates, waiting for the buzzer.
BEEP!
My arms swung over my head, meeting in a sharp point, and I hit the water in one smooth, practiced dive. Keeping my arms in front, I dolphin-kicked, staying underwater as long as I could. As I crested, I felt something burn on the outsides of both forearms. Before I broke the surface, I realized ridges of fins had sprouted from my skin, a long firm flap that would help me immensely, enabling me to push more water behind me faster. Why had these emerged now? Would anyone else see? Praying they wouldn’t, I pushed forward. I felt the change, the ease of slicing through the water, the steady burn of energy. I flipped under the water, and my feet hit the opposite wall first, easily a half-second ahead of everyone else.
Three laps later I’d confirmed what I’d known from the beginning.
I owned this sport.
I owned the water.
I owned the competition.
My fingers tapped the wall one final time. When I gripped the gutter, I immediately turned to look at the scoreboard. Two seconds. I’d beaten the runner-up by two insane seconds.
I was used to winning, but this was ridiculous.
Thankfully, my fins had retracted as I’d made my final approach, and I hauled myself out of the water, only pausing to give an “I told you so” head bob to the French chick. She’d come in fourth.
Coach gaped as I joined the rest of the team. “You beat your time in the Olympics, Zara! Your gold medal event! Where the hell has that speed been? What did you eat last night?”
I shrugged and chewed on the inside of my cheek, not responding to the whoops and yells of support from my teammates. Kazandra was looking at me with equal parts admiration and reproach. Her interrogation tonight was not something I was looking forward to. I didn’t have answers to give.
I slicked a hand over my cap and looked out over the crowd again. Finn’s scowl stood out. I’d messed up. I shouldn’t be drawing attention to myself like this. I knew it. He knew it. My fingers brushed at my temples as a budding headache formed there, and I nodded subtly. I’d be more careful the rest of the meet.
And I was.
I couldn’t stop the fins from sliding out every time I was fully submerged, but I checked my strokes, fumbled with turns, and hesitated longer than I needed to before jumping from the blocks. I was still performing slightly better than I normally did, but the numbers weren’t anywhere near as crazy as my first race.
We easily won first, and the girls were jubilant in the locker rooms after the final results were announced. Our strong performance combined with the impending knowledge of our last meet together filled the locker room with vibrant energy. After a quick powwow with the coaches, my teammates filtered out of the room. We were all going to meet up for dinner at some fancy restaurant to celebrate. I took a bit longer than usual to gather up my stuff, mostly because Kaz kept trying to pester me with questions, so it came as a bit of a surprise when one of the girls backtracked and stood in front of me as I tugged on my jacket.
“Might want to hurry it up, Zar. There’s a boy outside the locker rooms to see you.” Her eyes glittered with mischief. “And he’s hot as sin.” She clicked her tongue with each of the words and tipped her head back in a luxurious motion, exposing her neck. “Maybe when you’re done with him, you’ll let the rest of us have a chance at those tight muscles.” She whistled, then left Kaz and me alone.
“Seriously, what the heck has gotten into you?” Yep. She was furious. “You’ve been an open book this entire tour, and now all of a sudden you’re staying out late, getting incredible times at meets, and hanging out with mysterious men. I thought I was your friend.” Her tone pitched to levels that only dogs could hear.
Okay. Not pissed. Betrayed.
I got that.
I totally got that.
“Listen, I’m really sorry,” I said. “Things got a little weird really fast. Like, really fast. I’m still trying to figure out what all of this means.” Her expression softened as I shrank away from her, my back smacking hard into the lockers. “I met this guy yesterday and he’s, well, he’s another complication right now. And I forgot that we agreed to go on a date after the meet. I promise I’ll come right home afterward and I’ll tell you everything. Okay?” I extended a pinkie, and she looked at it like I’d pointed a gun at her. “Pinkie swear?”
“Whatever,” she huffed, but she still hooked her pinkie around mine. I could have died from relief. She was my only friend in this world. I couldn’t stand losing her. “You’re adorable. Infuriating. But adorable all the same. I feel like we’re back in fifth grade or something. And I want details. Juicy details. All the details.”
She slung an arm over my shoulders as we exited the locker room. As promised, Finn leaned on his elbows against the opposite wall, staring straight down at the ground. Chunky black hair fell vertically across his face. Kaz’s arm tensed around me as she took him in.
“The more juice on him, the better,” she whispered, lips pressed to my ear. She then smacked a loud kiss on my cheek and ran to catch up with some other girls heading back to the hotel to change. I flashed a peace sign at her back before turning to Finn.
“I’m exhausted. Again. It seems to be a recurring problem whenever I see you,” I deadpanned. “Maybe we shouldn’t keep doing this.”
“The break-up speech already? We haven’t even gone out yet.” He picked at his fingernails, and his mouth tipped up a bit as he traced his tongue over his top teeth. “Not that I’d ever want to date someone as prickly as you, anyway.”
“Whatever. You’d be lucky to date someone like me.”
“You’re not my type,” he fired back, not amused. “You have training to do. The sooner we get to it, the sooner you can go to bed.”
“I just swam my butt off at a meet. I don’t have any energy left.” I was whining, but I seriously was not in the mood to head off with some stranger and practice powers that not only sounded made up, but I wasn’t even fully sure I possessed. Granted, I had sprouted fins out of nowhere. Maybe there was some truth to it. Or maybe I was losing it.
He flipped up an index finger.
Oh goodie, more lists.
“One. That was your choice. You heard Lucy yesterday. You’re a God. That’s top priority right now. Two,” a second finger flipped up, “You don’t really have much choice in the matter. Every hour that passes that you don’t have control over your abilities the more danger you’re in. And the more danger you’re in means the more danger I’m in. And I really don’t like dealing with danger.”
“Lucy?”
“Yeah. The Kraken. It’s what I call It. Seems less intimidating that way.”
“It’s a she?”
“Did I say that? No. I like the name Lucy. I don’t think the Great Beasts have genders.”
“Oh.”
He clicked his pierced tongue against his teeth and grabbed my elbow where I’d propped it away from my body, my hand braced on my hip. “We’re burning daylight. Let’s go.”
Stupid kelpie didn’t lea
ve me much option to argue, and I settled for asking if we could at least get food first. He pulled a granola bar from his backpack and handed it over. I grudgingly took it, trying to pretend the dry oats were something more rewarding. Like tiramisu. After a few minutes of silence, Finn spoke again, breaking his solemn revere.
“You have a bit of an attitude problem.”
“What of it?” I asked around a bite of granola.
“I would never have guessed.”
“I can’t help myself when someone presents a challenge, verbal or otherwise. I’ve always been like that. I drove my parents insane as a child. And still kind of do.” Finn’s grip on my arm relaxed. “It’s also fun talking smack to people who dish it out, not expecting a response.”
“You swam well today. Really well. You messed up with that first race, but Gods did you look glorious doing it.” He met my gaze, the green of his eyes had deepened to pine. “Truly. You swim like you were born to do it. Which is good. Because you were. That will make training much easier.”
I was oddly touched by the compliment. I didn’t know why his words mattered more to me than those of my teammates, my friends, my coaches, even my parents. But they did. And I’d only just met him.
“I almost forgot something.” He dropped my arm and rummaged in the front pocket of his jeans. He removed a slim plastic box and presented it to me.
“My phone! Where did you find it?!”
“The castle.”
“Then it’s wrecked.” The heartbroken tone of my voice startled a bark of laughter from Finn.
“No, I fixed it. Magic, remember.” He twiddled his fingers as if that explained everything. I grimaced and tugged it away from him. Sure enough, the lock screen turned on, illuminating a candid picture of me and Kaz laughing about something hilarious. He smiled at the picture and hurried me along. It was weird being around him, hanging out with him. It felt like some part of me had known him forever, like we were meant to find each other. It was confusing.
Walk on Water Page 6