by Emma Hamm
Snarling, he flung the remainders of the rum into the hearth. It exploded in a wave of heat and broken glass.
Manus stumbled backwards, his hazy mind remembering that fire could burn, but his feet forgetting how to move. He tripped over his boots and landed back in his chair with a loud thump.
“So, this is how the master of the manor spends his days.”
He recognized the man walking into his great hall but couldn’t pinpoint from where. The tall redhead took up too much room. His face was too handsome, too even, too…inhuman.
Manus bared his teeth. “I didn’t give you permission to shadow my doorstep, Fae.”
“I don’t need permission.” The leprechaun sidestepped a pile of bottles and leaned a shoulder against the fireplace. Crossing his arms, he looked Manus up and down. “You look terrible.”
“You’re smart enough to guess why.” Manus reached for another bottle, his fingers hanging limp in the air when he realized he’d already drank it all. “Damn it.”
The leprechaun watched as Manus fumbled. His eyes burned, but Manus refused to itch the back of his neck where the faerie’s magic seemed to weigh the heaviest.
“Why are you here?” Manus grunted. “Haven’t you done enough?”
“What have I done?”
“The servants talk.” He waved a limp hand in the direction of the door. “And I’m not blind. I saw the way you looked at her, and I know you had a hand in what happened.”
“Do you?” The leprechaun arched a red brow. “Enlighten me.”
“I know your kind. I’ve seen you wandering the streets, complimenting the ladies while giving the men dirty looks. You’re a rake, a ruffian, the kind of man who preys on the weak. And you saw my Saoirse as an easy target.”
“Your Saoirse?”
“Yes mine,” Manus growled. “Unless you seem to think she’s now yours?”
“I wouldn’t claim ownership of another person.”
A loud laugh erupted from Manus, cold and cruel. “And here I was thinking Fae couldn’t lie.”
The silence which followed his outburst stung his ears. The leprechaun stared at him with eyes that delved deep into his soul, and he didn’t like it. The man saw too much.
The leprechaun cleared his throat. “You think Saoirse and I were…what? Lovers?”
“Like I said. People talk.”
“Yes, she was always worried about that. I happen to enjoy poking fun at your ridiculous ideals, but she was more sensitive to human strife. She didn’t want any of you to be unhappy.”
The leprechaun was too friendly with his wife, Manus mused. He spoke as if they were friends, dear friends, and those words stung. Saoirse had never once voiced her worries to Manus. She was always bright and happy, no matter what she had seen.
He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “If you make her happy, then I wish you both the best.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just take care of her,” he ground out. The words were a knife to his gut, twisting and turning with each syllable that fell from his lips. “She’s important to me, no matter what you might think. I know she’s not dead, and I know she wouldn’t have returned to the nightmare of a life she had. That leaves you. So take care of her, or I’ll track you down and gut you.”
The leprechaun gave him an odd look. “You’d let me have her?”
Manus’s hands were shaking. His fingers curled into his palms, fists wanting nothing more than to pound into something. But this wasn’t about him. Even drunk and wavering, he wanted to make sure Saoirse was happy. If this man was who she had chosen, then he needed to warn him.
“She’s a gentle woman with a heart of gold. Be careful with her, leprechaun.”
“But you’d let me have her?” The faerie snapped his fingers. “Just like that?”
“Not just like that, she’s a person.” And she should be able to make her own decisions, but he had to have some control. She had left him. He got to decide whether she came back. “Just—don’t let her forget she was loved by a fool who gave her all the wrongs things to make her happy.”
The leprechaun shrugged. “Don’t think I’ll ever see her again, mate. I don’t make it a habit to dive into the ocean and hold my breath. Never liked cold water.”
“What?”
“She’s off. Who knows where really, just off into the ocean where she belongs.”
Manus shook his head, having trouble following what the faerie was saying. “What do you mean you don’t know where she is?”
“I mean, I told her to go back to where she belonged but didn’t tell her where. I know there’s a pod of merrows around here somewhere, but I don’t know how to find them.”
His vision blurred. “You told her to go?”
“Well you certainly weren’t going to.” A feral grin spread across the leprechaun’s face, full of hidden anger and rage. “Someone needed to have her best interests in mind.”
“You’re the reason she left me?” Manus lurched to his feet. “You sent her out into the water with no protection, no one she knows, not even a general direction where to look?”
“She’s a faerie. She knows how to take care of herself.”
“She is my wife!” Manus thundered.
The smile on the leprechaun’s face changed. Glamour shivered and fell, revealing a terrifying faerie with golden skin and teeth like knives. He was tall, red headed, and glimmered like molten metal. “Not anymore.”
Manus didn’t care the faerie was looking for a fight. He didn’t care that the faerie was impossibly strong and could use magic to bring him to his knees. This was a matter of pride.
His fist flew through the air and cracked against the other man’s cheekbone. Fire blossomed along the ridge of his knuckles. His hand shook, but he wasn’t about to stop any time soon.
The leprechaun had said enough. In his drunken state, Manus didn’t care that the other man was right. He didn’t care that Saoirse deserved to live with her family if that was what she desired. He only cared that this man had admitted to being an instrument in the disappearance of his wife.
And he would hurt for it.
Another punch slammed into the leprechaun’s jaw. Manus felt it crack under his fist and the rush of satisfaction as blood splattered on the mantelpiece.
He pummeled the leprechaun, smashing his fist into whatever piece of flesh he could find. It didn’t matter if his knuckles split, or his bones cracked, the pain was nothing more than a fleeting memory which was both satisfying and enraging.
He wanted the leprechaun to feel pain. Every crack of flesh meeting bone vibrated through Manus’s arm. It rolled around in his head, reassuring him that there was no way the other man couldn’t understand his frustration, anger, and the pain violently rocketing through his body.
“I tried to be the bigger man,” Manus growled when the leprechaun stepped back. “She deserves a man capable of that.”
“Does she? Or have you put your own ideals on her?”
“Shut up.” Manus drove his fist down, swift and true.
The leprechaun ducked in an impressive showcase of speed. One moment he was crouched on the floor, bleeding from multiple splits in his face, the next he was five feet away and leaning against the fireplace again.
Manus watched as he swiped at the blood dribbling from his lips and flashed sharp teeth in a mockery of a grin.
“Careful human,” the leprechaun warned. “You won’t like it if you push me too far.”
“I gave you a chance to be the better man.”
“Did you now? All I heard was you telling me how things are going to be.”
“She deserves someone to look after her. Someone who will take care of her, give her everything she desires.”
“Maybe she just wants someone. Period. Maybe she didn’t want someone to take care of her. She wanted someone to be here with her.”
The words flew like arrows and sank their serrated edges into Manus’s chest. They dug through his skin, b
urrowing and tearing until he couldn’t breathe. He stumbled back a step and grasped the mantel.
“Is that what she said?” he gasped.
“Not in so many words. She made me promise to tell you why she left even though I disagreed with her.”
Manus braced his forearms and stared into the flames. “Then she went back to what she was comfortable with. Back to that place where they locked her in a cage, where they didn’t appreciate her for what she was.”
“I doubt the merrow pod around here is like that. She left because you two are bonded, and the longer you were gone, the more likely it was for her to die.”
“What?” he gasped.
“The bond, you idiot. Do humans no longer speak of it? The further you are from each other, the more strain it puts on her. She exists because you exist.” The leprechaun spat blood on his floor. “You’ve got a mean right hook for such a little man.”
“She was dying?” He squeezed the stone mantle until his fingers ached. “Why didn’t she tell me?”
“She didn’t want you to feel trapped. The land isn’t your home, and she’d rather take the pain than take away what you love.”
“Until now.”
“Until I showed her how stupid she was being. Since you disappeared, she should die in the arms of her family.”
“Then she really is dead?” Something cracked in his chest. A chasm opened up with dark eyes staring back at him.
Manus could handle the heartache if she had left him. He’d been left before, and it wouldn’t be the first time a woman found him lacking. But to know she was dead?
It destroyed him.
He fell to his knees, gasping through the pain in his chest. How did anyone survive the loss of a loved one? He was barely aware of himself at all. The world fell away, and all that existed was the aching hole in his chest.
Dead.
Her laughter sounded like bubbles breaking on the surface of the water. He had listened to her laugh for hours, trying to make her chuckle or giggle just to hear it again. Had he ever told her how much he loved it?
He would never again see the way she would sweep her hair over her shoulder and stare down at something new she found. It was usually something simple, cutlery, a hairbrush, a small decorative pot. But he had never looked at what she held. All he could focus on was the graceful arch of her neck and how badly he wanted to press a kiss to the curve.
Pain spread its clawing ache further, dancing down his arms and curling his hands into fists. He’d never acted on all the things he wanted to do, because it wasn’t right. So many things he’d wanted to say, to do, to watch, and he hadn’t done them because the world told him not to.
“You’re not breathing,” the leprechaun said. His words were tentative and curious as if he didn’t know what Manus was going through. “You should probably do that.”
“How am I supposed to breathe when she no longer does?” He glanced up, fierce and loyal until the bitter end. “What kind of monster are you? Why couldn't you let me continue to think she lived out a normal life? That she left of her own accord?”
“Even faeries have to follow through with unbreakable bonds.”
The leprechaun knelt. He stared at Manus with keen eyes, the glamour dropped. If he had been in a better state of mind, Manus might have marveled at the strangeness of the faerie.
His skin wasn’t made of metal although it looked as if it was dusted in it. His eyes were cold and hard, his sharp teeth poking through his lips. The leprechaun cocked his head to the side and stared directly into his soul.
“You want her back?”
“How could I not? She was everything.”
“You didn’t act like she was everything. You left without warning her what your plans were, leaving a note she couldn’t read. Her maids read it out loud, did you know that? It embarrassed Saoirse.”
The name finally registered in Manus’s drunken mind. “You know her name.”
“I know everyone’s name, Manus of Uí Néill.”
He gulped. “Do you know a way to get her back?”
“She might not be dead yet, although it’s been months since she slipped back beneath the waves. If you are swift, you may catch her yet.”
“Why would you help me?”
The leprechaun shrugged, blood dripping down his chin and hitting the floor with a quiet sound. “You obviously know how to fight, and you care about her. These were facts I did not previously know.”
“Had you known, would you have encouraged her to stay?”
“No.” The leprechaun shook his head. “The sea was the only way to slow the effects of your bond. If there was a way to save her, I would have taken it.”
“You are fond of her.”
“Yes.”
“You—” Manus paused and licked his lips. “Love her?”
“As only her kind could. Don’t worry human, I don’t intend to steal her away from you. I have no need of a wife.”
“Then, there is a possibility of finding her?” His heart lifted, pain easing for a brief second until he noticed the leprechaun hesitating. “Well?”
“There is a possibility, but I cannot say with any certainty you will be able to find her, or she will be alive and well.”
“How? How do I find her?”
Again, the leprechaun hesitated, and Manus knew it would not be an answer he would like. It didn’t matter. He would do anything he could to get her back, knowing she had left for her own safety.
He would prove his worth. If she wanted him to live in a cage under the sea, he would do it. Whatever it took to bring her back into his arms.
The leprechaun rolled his lips between his teeth and grunted. “You’ll need a swift ship, one that can turn at a moment’s notice.”
“I have that already.”
“And you’ll need the courage of a thousand men, because you might not come back from this alive.”
“For her, I would do anything.”
“Then you need to sail directly into faerie waters and pray she hears your screams.”
Manus blinked. “Pardon?”
“Merrows travel alongside guardians. They have a strange relationship, no one can really explain it. However, there are faerie waters near here. A portal into the Otherworld, guarded by fierce merrows and their greatest weapon. If you sail into those waters, Saoirse is sure to hear you. If she loves you, then she might save you.”
“That’s suicide.”
“Maybe. Or she might wait for you.”
He’d need to find a crew of men willing to put their lives on the line. He wouldn’t put anyone at risk without their knowledge. Were there men like that? Perhaps not in Uí Néill, but there were enough who owed him some kind of recompense for previous grievances.
Manus grimaced. “It’s possible. But first, I must know how to fight the guardian in case it attacks.”
“You don’t fight a guardian.” The leprechaun sauntered away, leaving the same way he had entered. “Good luck, human. You’ll need it.”
Manus raced through the house, not sleeping until he had a crew of men who agreed to travel with him. Days passed, but he did not see the rising or setting of the sun. He had a reason to focus now.
He didn’t surface until he was standing on the deck of his ship, staring off into the horizon.
“Captain!” a man shouted. “All sailors aboard!”
Manus glanced at his first mate, lifting an eyebrow. “What say you?”
“It’s the foolhardiest trip I’ve ever been on, captain. I’m not looking forward to seeing a guardian, as it sounds particularly frightening.” He cleared his throat. “But none of us would be here if we didn’t believe in the cause.”
“Gold and treasures.”
“And a woman who somehow captured the heart of a wandering man.”
“I didn’t know you were a romantic.” He arched a brow, suddenly wondering if he should know this man. His first mate was a mystery, found on the streets and proving to be a capable
man. He hadn’t expected loyalty.
“Hardly. I see value in people and actions, captain. Shall we?”
“Give the orders.”
His first mate spun on his heel, shouting, “Hoist the sails and bring up the anchors, boys!”
They shared a look of trepidation. “To faerie waters we go.”
Waters Running Red
The merrows gathered together in the never-ending blue of the ocean. Suspended as they were, they could watch for predators from every angle. Each carried a sharpened spear made of coral and lashed to carved stone. The females adjusted their grip, narrowed eyes watching for the slightest movement.
In the center of their protective circle, four women floated. Two supported the middle merrow’s arms, keeping her suspended in the water while the other swam in slow circles around her.
“Focus on the pain, Saoirse. Focus on the movement and the feeling of your child.”
“I can’t!” she grunted as another pulse made her flick her tail wildly. “Please, help me.”
“You are doing well. Soon your daughter will enter our world and you shall hold her in your arms. You must embrace the pain.”
“I want to sleep,” she whimpered. “I want this to stop.”
Merrow live birth was difficult as they were not meant to pass a child through their fishlike tails. It was possible although usually excruciating for the mother. Still, like so many others, Saoirse was willing to take the risk.
She had been too late to lay the mermaid’s purse where her child might have grown without risking both of their lives. Now, she must go through the gauntlet.
Alannah, the matriarch of the merrow pod, circled her and cast a critical gaze up and down her tail. “You will survive this. You promised me a child in return for your safety. Have I not looked after you? Have I not prolonged your sanity to bring the child into the world?”
Blue tattoos swirled down the merrow’s face and disappeared into the long length of her hair. Saoirse knew the waves traveled all the way down to where her tail met her torso. It was a painful process to become matriarch, but well worth it.
She curled her tail up as another wave rocked through her, the fins at her hips fluttering. Her belly was too large for her to tail to move easily.