by Vanessa Skye
I nod, feeling tears rise once again.
Aiden wraps an arm around my shoulders and pulls me close.
I rest my head on his chest and let go.
***
“Get up!”
The voice rips through my dreams like a snarling animal, and I slowly blink and see morning has arrived.
“I trust you are recovered and not too overly tired from your tryst with Aiden last night,” Nuadha says as he throws clothes at me. “Get dressed.” He turns and stalks out of my room, slamming the door behind him.
I quickly dress and shove some food from the plate left near the fire in my mouth.
Still chewing, I open the door and see the king with his arms crossed and foot tapping. For a moment, I am struck by how much magic surrounds Nuadha. It settles over him like a thick, shimmering blanket, and I reach out.
“What are you doing?”
Nuadha’s looking at me as though I just grew a third boob in the middle of my forehead, and I snatch my hand back. “Nothing, sorry.”
“Follow me.”
“Have I done something in particular to piss you off, or is it just my presence in general that’s annoying you?” I ask, sounding like a bitch, but I don’t care. The sweat beads across my forehead as I jog to keep up with his angry strides.
He glowers but does not respond nor does he slow a single step.
Fae scurry about, cleaning up the last signs of the fight and repairing bridges and buildings, as we race past. Unfamiliar soldiers stand guard, and I assume they are Aiden’s relief troops.
Baird joins us, and soon, Aiden also falls into step, giving me a wink in greeting, and I smile.
I may be sleep deprived with hair that’s a total mess after our little trip last night, but it was worth it. I feel so much better today.
Nuadha shoves open the door of what looks like a dining hall, and I see several fae, including Leith, pouring over maps scattered over a long dining bench.
“The Talentless are more of a problem than I anticipated,” Nuadha says, sitting at the table and indicating we do the same. “If not for our presence here, these fae would be lost.”
I raise my hand.
“I know what you are going to say, faeling,” he says with a glare. “And yes, it was a raiding party of the Talentless.”
“But how do you know?”
He glares. “Did any of them use magic against you?”
“No, I—”
“Then they were the Talentless. A fight against fae would involve magic, not just swords.”
Everyone around the table nods in agreement.
“I will admit last night was Talentless, but there is still no evidence the oth—”
“Hush! You refuse to see truth no matter what evidence is before you,” Nuadha says.
“What about the old man?”
For the first time since he growled me awake, his frown fades…slightly. “What old man?”
“There was an old man there, watching…”
The frown returns but the king gestures for me to explain.
“He had a long beard and white hair and was wearing gray robes. He warned me that you were about to be killed then threw a lit torch at the shelter. It seemed pretty clear he intended to burn it down.”
“He was with the enemy?”
“I’m not sure.” I throw my hands in the air and try not to let my temper get the best of me. But one good punch aimed at his royal throat…I’d feel better. “Look, I don’t think he was trying to kill the faelings inside. It was more like a test, like he was trying to make me choose between you and them.”
“After last night, no fae doubts what you can do,” Nuadha says, and his scowl deepens.
“But he looked old?” Baird asks.
“Yes. The oldest fae I have ever seen.”
Nuadha sighs. “For a fae to look that old…he must spend time in the human world.” He glances at Baird then at the other fae. “For those unfamiliar with Baird and Alys and how they came to me, I would ask you do not repeat what you are about to hear, to anyone.” His unflinching gaze settles on Baird once again. “You said you suspected several full fae were in the human world while you were there?”
Baird nods. “Yes. Whether they were there specifically to kill Alys, or whether they were there for another purpose, I do not know. But yes, Alys killed one, and by my estimation, there were at least two more given the minor weather manipulation and mind control of the humans we encountered.”
“And yet they did not follow you here.” Nuadha drums his fingers on the table. “Something foul is afoot. Fae in the human world is abhorrent.”
“I agree,” Aiden says.
“What about the fae you banished? Could it have been them?” I ask.
Nuadha shakes his head. “No. All power is stripped before banishment. Fae and the Talentless alike cannot travel to the human earth or Tír na nÓg with no magic. They must remain here or there.”
“This is true,” Baird says.
“More investigations are required. I have ordered two men to escort Estrild’s body back to the city for a suitable burial upon my return. The witch was no friend of mine, but she deserves the proper rites.”
“Estrild!”
“What?”
I ignore Nuadha and address Baird. “Didn’t you say Estrild was greatly aged?”
Baird frowns and nods. “This is true.”
“Uh huh. Ha!” I jab a finger toward Nuadha, feeling quiet proud of myself, and smirk.
“Yes, well. Another strange piece of this puzzle.” He glares one last time before turning back to the others. “Gather your things and inform the men we are leaving to continue our investigations immediately. The garrison will protect this community until we can seek out the Talentless and exterminate them,” Nuadha says, rising.
Exterminate them? Hang on.
Everyone at the table nods, gathers the maps, and runs off to carry out his orders.
Chapter Sixteen
Soon enough, we’re riding away from the forest community and up the steep plains and low hills of the craggy Irish-like countryside. Instead of climbing the impressive mountains, we weave our way through them following abundant rivers and lakes.
The horses splash through the shallow crossing and up the banks while I take in every detail as we ride through a river grotto lined with enormous mossy rocks, which gives the appearance of a soft green corridor with a bright blue glass floor. Every time I step outside, I feel as though I’ve stepped into another story from my childhood. It’s so easy to get lo—
“Does your beast sense eyes upon us, Alys?” Nuadha asks, jerking me out of my daydreams and back to reality with a jolt.
Do you?
There are eyes following us from the water.
I repeat Mandrake’s warning to Nuadha.
“Ah, most water fae are as unfriendly as they are elusive. This territory belongs to Lir and his devoted who do not wish to mingle with others. Hopefully, they will not approach us unless they have something important to communicate. But if the scrutiny comes from the water, it is not the Talentless.”
The air remains cold, even before the sun starts to descend into the west, and I shiver.
“Where is the nearest fae community?” Nuadha asks Aiden as we ride.
“Apart from the water fae—who cannot offer us anything by way of lodgings, even if they were so inclined—there is only an earth fae community living underground ten miles beyond the lough.”
Nuadha bobs his head once. “We will ride to the earth dwellers and rest there this night. Winter is upon us early. Select suitable fae to make contact.”
Aiden turns to a few of the men following us. “Find your people.”
The earth fae in our group dismount and—
My mouth drops open.
One moment they are there, the next, they simply vanish into the ground, like they are standing on trapdoors.
I look around. No one else seems shocked at all, so I swallow my
surprise and close my mouth without a word.
The remaining caravan kick their mounts into action toward the deep, still black waters of Lough Mask in the distance.
Unlike Lake Michigan, the huge lake isn’t surrounded by artificial yellow sand, but rather jagged gray boulders and stones jut out of dark reddish-brown soil. Numerous islands are visible in the distance, some decorated with small trees and scrub, and others simply covered in windblown rock. One edge of the mammoth waterway seems to be quite shallow in places with narrow pebbled paths allowing access to some of the far islands. But the water appears to deepen dramatically just feet from where we are riding.
Something about the lake unsettles me.
Ripples suddenly develop to the left of us and build to a full-blown eddy. The movement increases until a small whirlpool emerges, causing waves to lap against the rocky shore.
Mandrake shakes his mane and prances a quick double step. They come.
“Water fae are coming.”
Nuadha gestures for his men to draw their weapons, yet slides off his horse to wait by the shore, unarmed, with his arms folded. The men form a semicircle behind him, ready to ride into action should he need them, and Mandrake and I join them.
The whirlpool grows in size and strength, rising above the surface of the water like a tornado flinging freezing water at us, before slowly heading toward the water’s edge.
As it strikes land, three water fae step out of the violent twister and onto the rocky shore gracefully. The whirlpool dissolves, leaving the surface calm and glassy again in a matter of seconds.
A female steps forward with nothing but blue and green scales covering her body and long white hair dripping down her back.
The two male fae remain standing behind her.
“What cause do you have, Nuadha, King of the land walkers, to visit our domain?” she asks.
I watch her white irises vanish and reveal normal blue eyes in a literal blink of her eyes. As far as I can tell, these strange water fae have no weapons—given they have no clothes, where would they conceal them anyway? But still, I feel uneasy.
“What are you called?” Nuadha asks the female.
“I am Gormlaith, princess daughter to the true king of Tír na nÓg.”
Nuadha bristles but inclines his head in greeting. “Gormlaith. We are here to see if you have been troubled by the talentless as other fae communities across Éire have been of late.”
Gormlaith levels her gaze on each of us before turning back to Nuadha. She doesn’t seem threatened, merely curious. “Some creatures did visit our shores seeking out our settlement many months ago. We simply took them to the depths of the lough. No more have come,” she says, sounding bored. “We care not for the skirmishes of the land walkers and do not wish to be involved in your wars, King.” The word drips from her lips with pure contempt.
Nuadha snorts. “War may be coming, whether you want to be involved or not.”
“We will see.”
“Have any large groups of the Talentless made their way across these lands?” the king asks.
“A few of the lesser beings, some others. As long as they do not approach the lough, we leave them be.”
“Define a few.”
The water fae sighs. “Five hundred strange land walkers made their way through two moons prior.”
“Headed in which direction?”
The question is simple enough, but I can hear the frustration and impatience in Nuadha’s voice. He’s about one smartass remark away from having fish sticks for dinner.
“Northeast. We lost interest once they moved away from the water.”
Nuadha bows his head in thanks. “We would water our horses before traveling on.” It’s not quite a question, and not quite a statement.
Gormlaith waves a single hand toward the water’s edge like a game show hostess. “Please do. But before you go, we would claim what is ours.”
Nuadha frowns and narrows his gaze. “What do you mean? We have nothing belonging to you.”
Gormlaith points at me. “She is ours, and we would claim her, as is our right.”
Nuadha’s blue eyes meet mine, and my heart hammers against my ribs.
“Alys? She is no water fae. She is of war.”
The scaled fae cocks her head to one side, her expression unreadable. “I think not. We will take her now.” Gormlaith raises both her hands over her head and another whirlpool, bigger than the last, rises up like a shuddering behemoth.
I hear Nuadha and Aiden shout just before the swirling water engulfs me, sweeping me off Mandrake’s back and into the deep dark depths of the lake and toward certain death.
Chapter Seventeen
I feel pressure building as I’m dragged down…down…down to the freezing cold bottom of Lough Mask. The kind of pressure that I know, logically, is beyond the limit of human endurance, even with full SCUBA gear and a thick, insulated wetsuit.
As my lungs burn for oxygen, I can’t help wondering what the point of all this has been if my destiny was simply to die at the bottom of a black lake.
I hear a strange murmuring, and I open my eyes
Several blurry spheres of light reveal the pebble-strewn bottom of the lough, giving it the appearance of a fuzzy nighttime lane lit by streetlights.
Gormlaith watches me curiously—and she is not the only one. Water fae swim from every direction to witness my drowning, their unsympathetic eyes and weed-like hair starkly white in the strange watery moonscape.
I kick hard, struggling to reach the surface, all the while knowing there is no chance I will make it before I black out. I do not know how many feet down we are, but there isn’t even a hint of daylight showing at these depths.
Gormlaith grabs my ankle in her strong grasp, yanking me back down. She mimics taking a breath.
I shake my head. I want to scream. Can’t they see I’m dying?
She makes an exaggerated motion of breathing again, and as I come close to unconsciousness, I recall the small water fae boy who rescued me after I was swept off Aiden’s ship. He, too, tried to get me to breathe. Maybe water fae think we can all breathe underwater.
My lungs burn as they wring the last of my air from within, and the need to breathe is so automatic, I cannot stop my body from gasping in a huge lungful of water.
The freezing liquid scorches its way down my esophagus and into my chest, and I cry out, but the sound is lost in endless darkness.
I repeatedly gasp at the searing agony until there is no air left in my lungs, just liquid fire. But instead of the bliss that comes from passing out, my mind clears.
A bizarre sensation—similar to my palms splitting from the inside like they used to do—tickles my neck, and I reach for my throat only to find three slits on either side opening and closing in time with my desperate pants.
I focus and slow my breathing until it’s as natural underwater as it is on land.
The chattering buzz of voices increases, and as water fills my ears, my eardrums adjust and the incomprehensible babble becomes clear words.
“Who is she?”
“Why is she here?”
“Why does she wear land walker clothing?”
“Where are her scales?”
“Why is her hair red?”
While I can hear them clearly, they are still nothing but blurry shapes. Then, I hear Gormlaith’s voice over all the others.
“Blink thrice in quick succession, Alys.”
I do as she orders, and an odd screen of some sort snaps over my eyes. Everything around me sharpens and clears as though I just put on swimming goggles.
“So you are indeed the one. My father will be well pleased,” Gormlaith says.
“What one?”
“The one of three worlds. The one who will unite or destroy us all.”
“And if I’m not the one?” I am too annoyed and distracted to give too much thought to her ridiculous words. My voice is mine, but also not mine. It’s deeper and richer in the water than it is
on land as the sound lingers in the liquid and echoes in my skull.
“Then you would have drowned, obviously,” Gormlaith says with a roll of her eyes. “Come. You will follow me now.”
Her attitude is really starting to piss me off.
“So you thought you’d just drag me to the bottom and see what happens?”
I’m not sure how a person shrugs while swimming, but Gormlaith manages it without ever looking like she gives an eff about anything. Her kicks and strokes appear easy and almost lazy, but she flies through the water, beckoning me to follow, and I have difficulty keeping her in sight.
I give a quick thought to just swimming away from her, but I figure I wouldn’t get far as the water fae following us seem pretty willing to do her bidding.
In the hazy distance, an underwater city made of what looks like colored glass slowly takes shape.
The blurry lights I’d noticed earlier turn out to be glowing orbs anchored with strong chains to the pebbly bed with fae swimming in and out of iridescent bubble dwellings connected by long frosted tunnels floating between the anchored orbs. Some of the bubbles are even stacked ten or twelve stories high.
As we travel, the orbs become more frequent, highlighting not only the marine life thriving in these waters but what must be hundreds of water fae—women, men, and children—all shadowing us as we follow the natural foundation of the inlet.
I reach out and touch one of the clear shells expecting it to feel like glass, but the surface is soft, like plastic wrap. It is all so beautiful it’s almost enough to make me forget exactly where I am…almost.
Gormlaith leads me through the bejeweled doorway of a bubble as large as the White House, set right in the middle of the city, and past a multitude water fae carrying trays or cleaning furniture constructed out of a gold metal shining brighter than anything I’ve seen on the lake floor.
We swim through corridors alive with fish, swaying curtain-like seaweed, and a variety of life I can’t even identify, and into a grand room complete with a massive gold throne studded with gems and surrounded by several fae armed with lengthy silver spears. Seated in the royal chair is who I assume to be the water king himself, looking every inch the aristocratic noble with his ruby-studded gold crown, gold scepter topped by a smoldering orb, and his long white hair swirling in time to the gentle currents.