My Soul to Take

by Amy Sumida

  So we had mirrored King Guirmean, who was in the midst of preparations for his wedding but who still insisted we visit at our earliest convenience... despite my protests. It turned out that he wanted some wedding advice. So not only did we get to speak to a slimy bean-nighe, we got to give awkward suggestions about matrimony to the Water King.

  Why awkward? Well, my marriage to Arach had been a little unconventional. I had been under Arach's forgetting spell at the time and had fallen in love with him under false pretenses. Arach has since offered to have another ceremony for us, since he now feels horrible about deceiving me. But I refused. Our marriage had become real and our wedding, despite being manipulative, had been heart-wrenchingly romantic and officiated by the High King himself. I saw no need to repeat it.

  Frankly, nothing could top Arach dropping to his knees and proclaiming that all he had to live for now was me and my love, that he would forever be mine if I would have him. I sighed every time I thought about it and not once has the fact that I was under a forgetting spell at the time ever dampened my memories. Arach had done what he thought was necessary for his people and he'd wound up falling for me in the process. How could I hold a grudge over that? Ours was a dark romance but it was romance nonetheless.

  Still, that didn't exactly make us the poster children for wedding advice.

  “Stop pouting,” Arach slid me an amused glance. “We're almost there and I don't have time to pleasure that pout from your face.”

  “There's always time for pout-removing pleasure,” I slid him a smile.

  “Not the way I do it,” he chuckled. “That's better,” he took my hand. “You don't want Guirmean to see you looking like an impudent little urchin.”

  “Not even an impudent little sea urchin?”

  “That's not humorous,” his lips twitched.

  “Because he's the Water King,” I nudged him. “The King of the Faerie Sea... and you said urchin. It is funny.”

  “Now you've taken it too far and it's definitely not comedic,” he sighed.

  “Sometimes you remind me of Odin,” I huffed. “And not the new, improved, back-from-the-Void, slightly-affected-by-Griffin Odin. You're like the stuffy Allfather Odin that has to lecture people to feel important.”

  “Take that back,” he glared at me.

  “Nope.”

  “Vervain!”

  “Nuh-uh. No takebacksies with the truth.”

  “And now you are reminding me of Roarke,” he narrowed his dragon eyes on me. “And not the new, improved, responsible... well... slightly more responsible, father and King Roarke. You're like the old, rogue, philandering, impertinent, indecent, all around annoying Roarke.”

  “I'm totally okay with that,” I smiled smugly. “Sometimes I miss that Roarke.”

  Arach began to growl.

  “Oh look, we're here. Better put on your king face.” I waved out the window to the view of the soaring, pearly Castle Deuraich, its first floor split by the rushing waters of the Faerie Sea. The Sea continued over the cliff we'd just journeyed up, turning into a waterfall.

  “A child,” Arach mumbled as he climbed out of the carriage. “I've married a child.”

  “That would make you a pedo-”

  “Don't push your luck,” he snapped as he helped me out.

  “Welcome,” King Guirmean came out to meet us with his fiance, Nora, by his side.

  Nora was once a fire fey, a phooka to be exact, and the Captain of the Fire Calvary (basically phookas who pulled our carriages and carried us into battle while in their horse form). But Faerie had transmuted Nora into the first water phooka and now Nora's ebony hair was tinged with aubergine and she had delicate matching antennas extending from her temples. The antennae waved gently in the air like seaweed in the water. Her skin was paler now and her hands were webbed, tipped in opal talons. Oh, and then there were her eyes; deep amethyst, lightening to lavender at the center. They were beautiful but a little unnerving since they were more fish than faerie and there were no whites to them at all. Just all that purple surrounding large black pupils.

  “Thank you,” Arach shook Guirmean's hand as I went over to hug Nora.

  “He's driving me mad,” she whispered in my ear and I pulled back to blink at her in surprise. “Help me!”

  “Okay,” I cleared my throat and turned towards her fiance. “Hello, King Guirmean. We're so sorry to bother you in the middle of such a busy time and if you'd like us to come back later-”

  “Nonsense,” Guirmean waved his hand and cut me off. “We needed a break from the planning.”

  “Definitely,” Nora grimaced and then she looked around at our entourage of phookas and red caps. “You didn't bring the twins?”

  “No, we didn't want to be a bother,” I shook my head. “But I was hoping to see Prince Morgan.”

  “He's with Lorna,” Guirmean smiled. “We can visit them after lunch.”

  “I really wanted to see the twins,” Nora sighed.

  “Well, come and visit us sometime,” I offered.

  “Oh! Yes, I think I need to do that,” Nora said immediately. “How about tomorrow?”

  “Darling, we have to go over the menu tomorrow, remember?” Guirmean's turquoise eyes filled with worry.

  “Right,” Nora deflated.

  “Maybe the day after?” I offered.

  “We are choosing the music, the day after,” Guirmean added.

  “Okay, perhaps after the wedding,” I gave Nora a reassuring smile. “When's the happy day?”

  “We're not sure yet,” Nora ground out.

  “We've been having trouble arranging things,” Guirmean sighed. “Why don't we all go inside and sit down. We can discuss this over our meal.”

  “Very good,” Arach nodded. A dragon never turned down food.

  We went into the airy entry hall of Castle Deuraich. It was devoid of any furniture, just the river rushing through the center of it. To either side of the river were stairs leading to the second floor and since we had entered on the right side of the castle, we took the set on the right. I couldn't resist sliding my hand over the mother-of-pearl walls as we climbed the stairs. They were so pretty, all swirling pinks and blues, and cool to the touch. It was like walking through a giant oyster. Or a nautilus shell.

  We got to the top of the stairs and I glanced left, where a walkway connected our side of the castle to the other. There were portraits hanging on the wall there; a gallery of past rulers of the Water Kingdom. The last ruler though, Queen Dubheasa, wasn't there. Her portrait had been removed after she'd been declared a traitor of the realm (she tried to kill me, long story). Now a portrait of Guirmean hung in its place and I wandered over to admire it.

  The others had seen where I'd veered off to and followed me. I stood before the painting, appreciating the way the artist had caught the strength in Guirmean's face. His head was held straight, proud, with the silver crown of water on his head. Azure gems in the shape of water droplets adorned the crown and paired well with the indigo of Guirmean's skin. His mint green hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail and his bright eyes looked out of the painting with confidence. He looked every inch the king.

  “This is wonderful,” I said to Guirmean. “I love it.”

  “Thank you,” he blushed a little and Nora chuckled.

  “He's so embarrassed to have his portrait up there,” Nora slid her arm through Guirmean's. “I told him if he wanted me to adjust to becoming a monarch, he'd better give me a good example to follow.”

  I blinked, a little shocked that I'd completely forgotten how Guirmean, just like Nora, had not been born a noble. Guirmean had been a soldier when I'd first met him and his help had ensured the capture of his previous queen. That may sound traitorous to you but in Faerie, your loyalty was given to the High Court first and then to your own court. Plus, Dubheasa had been a bitch. Her own people hated her.

  “Well, you've become a king so successfully, that I've forgotten you weren't always one,” I smiled at him.
r />   “Thank you,” he bowed to me. “And may I say the same for you, Queen Vervain?”

  “Thank you,” I preened. “And now that this meeting of the Mutual Admiration Society has begun, let's get to that lunch.”

  “I couldn't have said it better myself,” Arach huffed, annoyed at having his meal delayed.

  We walked into the dining room and I stopped short again. Guirmean's dining room used to be decorated in what I referred to as Victorian Pirate. Now the room was all crystal and marble. The chandelier was still there but the strands of pearls which used to hang from it were gone, leaving the fey lights to sparkle off the crystal shards without impediment. The wallpaper, with its gilded seashells, was gone too and in its place was a curving aquarium.

  Yes, a giant aquarium had been fitted into the walls, curving at the corners so that it almost felt like we were the fish within the bowl. The tank started at the door we had entered and ended at the door on our left, a door which led to the kitchen. The small space of wall between the kitchen door and the hallway door, was painted deep blue; a nice neutral background.

  “Sweet swimming selkies,” I whispered as I walked into the room.

  My heels clicked on the inky marble floor, swirled with veins of lapis. In the center of the room, beneath the sparkling chandelier, a crystal table sat, nearly as faceted and dazzling as the chandelier. Around it were gathered silver chairs cushioned in sapphire velvet, and atop the table were silver plates with matching silverware. The glasses were crystal and the centerpiece was a crystal statue of a wave. It was a lot of sparkle but I'm a bit of a crow and I love the sparklies. Yet even with all those glittering facets, I couldn't stop staring at the tank.

  Frothy seaweed in forest green swayed gently as fascinating fishes swam by. Buttercup yellow, acid green, vibrant violet, striking scarlet, and even neon blue adorned the exotic sea creatures. Some glowed with their own light and some were completely camouflaged until they moved. I couldn't seem to lift my jaw as I stared at them.

  They were all on the smaller size, I assume there was some purpose to that, probably something to do with keeping them happy in their fey-made environment. But because they were little, I hadn't really seen any of them before. I'd walked and swam through the twin cities of Under and Water, witnessing a plethora of unusual water fey but it was the large ones which understandably caught my attention. I hadn't focused on the schools of little fish flitting by. Now I wish I had because they were entrancing.

  One little guy broke from his pack and swished back and forth before me as if preening under my perusal. I stepped closer to the glass and his slick silver form fanned out, a fragile looking collar of crimson flicking around his face like a ruff around an Elizabethan royal. I laughed as his friends came back for him and his fronds got put away so he could resume his swimming.

  And the fishes weren't the only sea life within the tank. Complicated arrangements of coral curled and spread across the sand in muted colors of pink, yellow, and green. Over these natural constructions climbed crustaceans with spiked, spotted, and sometimes even furry shells. Their claws picked through crevices, searching for little tidbits to bring to their mouths.

  A little, red slug-like creature undulated daintily through the water and lightly grazed what appeared to be a bouquet of flowers. As soon as he touched the collection of brightly petaled blooms, the startled petals swirled like the blades on a helicopter and flew upwards out of their stems. Delicate tentacles were revealed, streaming beneath the underwater flowers like the bottom of a jellyfish. They sparked, lights running down the transparent cords, and my forehead thumped into the glass.

  “Ouch,” I absently rubbed my head and continued to gape at the fishes.

  “I forgot that it's been awhile since you've dined with us,” Guirmean joined me. “If you recall, I told you the décor didn't suit my tastes. I had the castle redone with a little help from Nora.”

  “It's amazing,” I said as I kept my eyes on the floral jellyfish. “Everywhere I look something unusual pops up... even the sand,” I pointed to a set of long black stalks poking out of the sand, there were little eyes on the tips of them.

  “It helps me get used to the sea life without actually going into the sea,” Nora added.

  “You're scared of the water?” I teased.

  “You've been in the Faerie Sea, what do you think?” She grimaced at me.

  “Valid,” I grimaced back.

  “Shall we?” Guirmean gestured to the table and the men went forward to pull chairs out for us ladies. Ah chivalry.

  As soon as we sat, water faeries began bringing out elaborate dishes and soon we were dining on delicious food whose ingredients were mostly unknown to me... and hopefully would remain that way. After we'd all had a little time to enjoy the meal, Guirmean brought up the wedding again and Nora rolled her eyes.

  “Okay, enough,” I waved them both down. “What's going on here?”

  “Tradition dictates that a royal marriage must take place in the Castle of Water,” Guirmean huffed.

  “As in the city of Water?” I asked as I took in Nora's stressed expression. “As in, in the water?”

  “Yes,” Guirmean nodded. “And as you've already deduced, my bride is not yet comfortable with her new kingdom. She keeps sabotaging our wedding progress.”

  “I do not!” Nora declared.

  “You do.”

  “Do not!”

  “You tripped that poor selkie seamstress and she nearly broke her arm,” Guirmean accused.

  “Well this sounds familiar,” I rolled my eyes at Arach.

  “Like children,” Arach sighed.

  “Hello, Pot,” I made a face at him. “You're black too.”

  “What?” Arach frowned.

  “Never mind,” I trailed off as I saw that Guirmean and Nora had stopped arguing in favor of watching the Arach and Vervain show. “Sorry.”

  “It's quite alright,” Guirmean waved away my apology.

  “So um,” I cleared my throat. “Why not have the wedding in Under?”

  “Under?” Guirmean looked confused.

  “The other city you rule,” I reminded him. “The one under the city of Water.”

  “Yes, I know what and where Under is.”

  “Your castle extends into both cities,” Arach nodded. “It's a good compromise. You can still have the wedding in the royal palace and not terrify your wife.”

  “But it's not Water,” Guirmean frowned. “My faeries may take offense to this.”

  “Tell them it's to make the High King more comfortable,” I offered. “No one wants to piss off King Cian.”

  “Oh,” Guirmean's face cleared. “Well that is a good suggestion.”

  “So I don't have to go swimming to get married?” Nora asked hopefully.

  “I suppose not, runa,” Guirmean leaned over to kiss Nora.

  “Runa?” I asked Arach in a whisper.

  “Really, Vervain,” Arach rolled his eyes. “When are you going to start learning our language?”

  “Never,” I shrugged and he gaped at me. “I'm bad at languages and I'm lazy. Plus, I'm 'Merican, I don't have to learn other languages, everyone knows English. Even the Fey.”

  “A child is what you are, a stubborn child,” he shook his head. “What exactly is a 'Merican anyway?”

  “An American from a rural area,” I giggled. “It's a joke which I completely wasted on you. So never mind all that.”

  “'Merican,” he repeated like he was considering the word. He even said it like I had, with the backwoods accent. “No, I don't understand it.”

  “What does it mean, Arach?”

  “I just said that I don't know,” he huffed at me.

  “No, the word runa,” I rolled my eyes.

  “It means that I'm doomed,” he shook his head ruefully and then asked no one is particular, “Why does love insist upon making a fool of me?”

  “It means beloved,” Guirmean chuckled.

  “Oh, how sweet,” I leaned
over and kissed Arach's cheek. “My runa.”

  Guirmean and Nora burst into laughter.

  “I rest my point,” Arach shook his head.

  “What?” I huffed. “And it's case, not point. Case in point,” I chuckled.

  “You said it was point,” he grumbled. “And it's physically impossible to put a case in a point.”

  “You make a point but rest your case,” I explained.

  “English is ludicrous,” he stated dryly. “Which is why you should learn Fey.”

  “Fine,” I threw up my arms in frustration. “This can be my first lesson. Why was it wrong for me to call you runa? I can't call my husband beloved?”

  “It's a feminine form,” Arach grimaced. “The masculine is fear.”

  “Fair?” I frowned.

  “Fah-rr,” Arach pronounced it carefully for me. “Spelled; F-E-A-R.”

  “Fear!” I exclaimed with a laugh. “How frickin' typical. To express my love I gotta call you fearsome.”

  “I am at that,” Arach smirked. “But it is a different word entirely, Vervain. Spelling has nothing to do with it and we've already established that your language makes no sense.”

  “Too late, I'm calling you my fear.”

  “Then you won't be saying it right,” Arach sighed. “And no one will understand but you and I.”

  “Fine with me,” I shrugged. “But you're wrong, mine fear-er... get it?” I laughed. “Like the German title for Hitler; mein fuhrer.”

  “Firstly, it was not just the title for Hitler, it means my leader,” Arach admonished me. “German makes perfect sense, I have no idea why we didn't start speaking that instead of English.”

  “Because she's right,” Nora offered. “Everyone knows English.”

  “Secondly,” Arach gave Nora a narrow-eyed glare before returning his stare to me, “my leader is acceptable as an endearment. By all means, use it; in English, German, or Swahili, I care not. And lastly; I am not wrong, Nora.”

  “Oh yes you are, mine fearer,” I grinned. “You and I won't be the only ones who understand what I'm saying; Guirmean and Nora have heard the entire conversation. So they will too.”

  “Perhaps we should move on,” Arach leaned back as his plate was removed by one server and another plate was set before him by a second server.