Then We Fly

by Rebecca Salas

  Wiping tears from my blurry eyes, I again checked the GPS to make sure I was headed in the right direction. Without Dylan or even Fynn I was trying to move through the stages of our plan by myself. I had the pieces and now I needed to have them combined. I wondered what Fynn was doing for the king, and not for the first time wished that he was there with me. I may not usually be surrounded by a castle full of people, and I loved the ocean, but I didn’t love being alone out on the water.

  I tried to focus on the task at hand, while my mind was full of worry for my brother. The possibilities of what had happened to him swam around my thoughts. My only comfort now was Oran’s promise to figure out what had happened to Dylan and the crew. Though that didn’t mean that I was done trying to find him myself, but if Dylan’s dream dad said that his brain needed some time to recover, I would give it to him. There wasn’t much else that I could do.

  With the skill of several hours practice, which is to say truly little, I slowed the boat as I neared the coordinates that I had been given. I hoped that the witch would be cooperative. My experience thus far had not been ideal, but Fynn had said that this one would be easier to work with than any of the others. Once she made her request, I was to reach out to Fynn to confirm that we could get her what she wanted in exchange, and hopefully it was something that we could provide. This witch was supposed to be as vain as any, more even than most. Fynn had said some bauble or bit of jewelry, maybe a mirror might be a fair exchange for her. I had a mental list of things I might suggest in exchange. Once I had an idea of what she wanted I would reach out to Fynn again.

  Thinking of that brought a smile to my face. I was eager to see him again. That stupid face that I had become so used to. I had plenty to tell him. With my pieces for the charm safely tucked in a satchel that I secured over my neck and shoulder I jumped into the cold water.

  Swimming down beneath the surface I spotted the wreckage that was likely her home. It was dark that deep in the ocean and I wished that Dylan was with me. Shipwrecks were creepy. I closed my eyes and sighed. Where are you Dylan?

  Cora? The voice was clear in my mind and my eyes when wide. I hadn’t really been trying to talk to him. I stopped where I was and closed my eyes again.

  Dylan? Can you hear me? I asked, trying to keep his image clear in my mind.

  What the heck. Cora? Is that you? Where are you hiding? I can’t see you.

  Ha. I’m not hiding. I’m in your head. I answered

  Uhhh. It’s not what it looks like. I could practically feel the embarrassment pouring through his thoughts.

  No, you idiot, I’m not reading your mind. I laughed. I do not want to dig around in there.

  Oh, thank goodness. He answered, something like a sigh of relief come through.

  Where are you Dylan? Are you alright? I asked.

  I’m… I’m doing ok. Again, I got the impression that he was embarrassed. But I am in a bit of trouble. The crew, after they dropped you off wherever you went. Without me by the way, which I do not appreciate, we were supposed to do this together Cora!

  I interrupted his tangent. They dropped me off in the middle of nowhere during a violent storm, Dylan. I didn’t abandon you.

  Oh. He thought, with a mental sigh. Anyway, I think they must have knocked me out or something. And essentially dropped me off with this horrible sea witch. They’re long gone and I have no clue how to get back. But good news! I’ve found Fayre. We’re stuck here in this big cage together until we agree to do what she wants.

  Dylan! That’s awful, I’m so sorry. I’m going to come and find you.

  I mean it isn’t awful. A clear mental image of Dylan kissing Fayre flashed across my mind.

  Woah there, buddy. I do not need to see that.

  What? I thought you said you couldn’t’ read my thoughts. Again, the embarrassment filtered through.

  Not unless you start sending your mental wanderings my way. I tried my best to send an image of me rolling my eyes at him. Now, what can you tell me about where you are? How can I find you?

  We’re in one of those shipwrecks that the sea witches like. This one is this awful hideous octo-lady-thing. Fayre calls her Nahwai.

  My laugh was both audible and mental. Right, from what I learned when I was with Fynn I guess there are only ever a few sea witches at a time.. I thought to him. Hold tight.

  My sense of relief was a flash of light before my heart began to constrict. According to Dylan’s description the witch was not at all what I had been prepared for. When her vanity was supposed to be her highest priority, what could I barter if she was actually hideous. What would she want from me? And would I be willing to give it? For Dylan I would give just about anything. I wasn’t willing to lose anyone else. My father’s smiling face flashed across my mind. I would get Dylan out.

  The chill of the water seemed almost warm in comparison to my rising panic. The ship loomed ahead, and I took a breath of the stinging salty water, steeling myself before swimming to the door of the faintly glowing cabin. Trying to outpace my wildly growing fear.

  The wooden door swung open before I had the chance to knock. Sweeping my gaze upward, I took in her undulating tentacles, a splotchy pink and purple, her loose-fitting top floated out and away from her as if it wanted to avoid her wrinkled skin. Her eyes were black all the way to the edges. Her expression was beatific, at odds with the inexplicable feeling of nausea that rose at the sight of her. Dylan was right. She was awful.

  “Nahwai.” I spoke, trying not to break eye contact. I needed to ingratiate myself to her, and if she was vain, even while hideous, she would want to be admired.

  “Welcome.” She scanned me from top to bottom. Her face was pleased, peaceful, and still terrifying. “What exactly…” She leaned in, breathing deeply and I fought the desire to flee and settled for going stiff at her appraisal. “Ondine and—” Her smile brightened, knowing in her eyes. “How can I help you sweet one?” She made a graceful curtsey. It didn’t lessen my feeling of disgust, but I tried not to show it.

  “I have a couple things I need from you.” I tried to shake off the overwhelming sensation of revulsion that was only increasing in her presence. I pulled the satchel from around my neck, removing the feather and lock of pink hair. “First I need a charm, to protect me from—”

  “Ah yes, I am familiar with what you are asking.” She interrupted me, sparing me a long explanation. I was grateful. The less she knew the better. “And second?” She asked, resting her wrinkled, mottled hand against mine, as if she was offering me a kindness. I fought my desire to shake her off in disgust.

  “You have my brother. I want him back.”

  Confusion flitted across her face, followed by understanding. Then a hopeful knowing smile. “Your… brother? How interesting. It seems I should have paid closer attention when he arrived. Hmm.” She paused, thoughtful and I held my tongue. “I would be incredibly happy to make a deal with one such as yourself, given… However, I am in need of something of my own in exchange. I have troubles of my own, but perhaps if you could help me, I could help you in exchange.”

  “Why do you want him?” I asked, my surprise at how well things were going easing my tension.

  “Ah, well I was misinformed as to his nature. And beyond that, a certain beast of a prince, took from me what I value most in exchange for what your brother can offer me.”

  “And that is?” I asked.

  She flicked her fingers to the side, dismissively. “If you can get me what I want it won’t matter. I do not do it out of any love for that monster. Simply out of a desire for self-preservation. But with you here, “she smiled brightly revealing her crooked yellow and brown teeth, “we might make a reversal of my circumstances.” She looked me over again, something like knowing in her eyes. “Would you like to see him,” she grazed a knobby finger along my cheek, “to look him over with your own eyes, before we make our bargain?”

  “Yes, of course.” I said in a rush, glad that she removed her finger from my face
. I fought the urge to rub the spot clean of her touch.

  “Follow me.” She turned in a swirl of limbs and shot out the door with surprising speed.

  Ready or not. I closed my eyes and sent the mental message out to my brother.

  We swam across the broken boards of the ships deck before dropping down its side and into the massive hole that encompassed the front of the ship. We were deep enough that it was dark inside, despite it being a bright day on the surface. I followed her deeper, my eyes adjusting to the dimness. The back of the ship’s hull was a wall of bars. Cages. Some sort of prison cell. By the look of the growth along the bars, they were original to the boat itself. Back against the corner of one cell I could make out two figures and as we neared them, Nahwai flicked her fingers and a jar at the front of the bars began to glow, offering a soft illumination to the space. Dylan was there, along with Fayre. They shared a cell, Dylan swam out at the front and Fayre stayed tucked somewhat behind him, her hand clung to his arm anxiously.

  “Dylan!” I surged forward, wrapping my hands around the bars. I looked him over. He ran a hand along the back of his neck. Something like sheepishness in the look on his face.

  “Cora.” He smiled, before his eyed flicked to Nahwai and quickly away again. His disgust hardly concealed.

  “As you can see,” Nahwai crooned, “He is as good as when he arrived.” She flicked her eyes from Dylan to Fayre and back. “Perhaps better.” She smiled, wagging her eyebrows. “Shall we return to my rooms to discuss the terms of his exchange?”

  “No!” Fayre squeaked out a panicked sound behind Dylan.

  “Fayre too.” Dylan said, looking straight into Nahwai’s face, a determined set to his features.

  “Naturally.” Nahwai smiled, a predatory look in her eye. “In fact, if you can get me what I want I will throw in what Fayre came looking for. As a show of good will.” She nodded to me like it was a bow.

  “What is it that you want?” I asked, cautiously. Her willingness seemed too good to be true.

  “A way to reverse my current abhorrent condition. I need something that you ought to be uniquely equipped to procure.” She steepled her blotched fingertips at the word uniquely. “What I need is Proteus’s Pearl.” She eyed me expectantly, as if that sentence alone should be enough to clear up any questions I had. It was not, and in a moment her face dropped, her eyebrows drawing upward and when she spoke again, she took on a tone like speaking to a slow child. “Do you not have access to any selkies who might point you in the right direction?” That at least did make sense.

  “I may have access to a selkie who could help me.” I said and her expectant smile returned. “I’ll need to get word to him and see if this pearl can be gotten.”

  “Of course.” She looked me over, assessing, and it took all myself control not to shrink away from her gaze. Having her look at me seemed to make my stomach turn. What was it about this creature that was so completely disgusting? She looked up seeming to come to some conclusion. “Would you like a moment by yourself to reach out to him.”

  I didn’t hide the concern on my face. Did she know? If she was working for Blake and knew what I was capable of, I was in more trouble than I had imagined.

  “Would you like some help? I am very capable of helping to make you cry?” She seemed to like the idea and a shiver ran up my back despite the relief that she was suggesting a more conventional method for reaching out to a selkie. Tears wouldn’t help me now; I needed a specific selkie.

  “No, a bit of privacy will suffice.” I felt relieved as she led me to one side of the dilapidated ship and left me alone. Whatever the reason was, her presence was revolting. I took a breath and smiled at the thought of seeing Fynn again. I had missed him. A lot, if I was being honest. I settled down in the most comfortable way I could sitting on an old board that had broken off the hull and was propped against a rock. I leaned back against the ship and closed my eyes. ‘

  In my mind I conjured up an image of Fynn. His warm smile and mussed hair, his strong arms around me as we danced at the castle. How very nice he looked in the suit he had worn, the way the shirt had emphasized his broad shoulders. I couldn’t help but smile.

  Fynn. I called out in my mind to him.

  Cora. I was sure that I heard his own smile reflected in his tone. You’re making progress. It wasn’t a question.

  I think I am. I answered. I’m with Nahwai. Things have not gone entirely as expected. I caught him up on what had happened since I had last seen him. He was quiet while I ran through the story, initially all his feelings bleeding through from his side. Happiness at first, and something like pride at my success with the naiad Clytie. I did not mention the encounter with the syphon, I could still barely think of what had happened to her. I kept that particular horror to myself.

  I felt his anxiety, I thought, when I told him about the storm and floating untethered in the ocean and for a moment there was something when I mentioned reaching out to Oran for help. Jealousy perhaps? Whatever it was it flared for only a moment and then there was nothing. It felt almost like I was having a mental conversation with myself after that point. I brought him up to the present and stopped, waiting for his response. It didn’t come. Fynn? I thought, anxiety tinting my tone.

  Yes? His tone was clipped. Sorry. It’s a lot. You’ve been busy. Something like a mental sigh flitted through my mind. I’m glad you’re alright. And there was warmth in his tone again. This—this is good, Cora. We can work with this.

  You know what she wants? How to get it? I asked.

  Honestly, that will be the easiest part. Funny story... And Fynn filled my mind with images that were familiar to me, only the angle had shifted. Fynn ran through deep jungle. He glanced down at his fingers, entwined with my own. I followed behind him out of breath and sweaty but smiling. But this wasn’t quite like I remembered it. From Fynn’s perspective I looked different, prettier in his eyes than I saw myself. A warm feeling suffused his thoughts when he turned back to check that I was still following comfortably. We entered a clearing in the jungle, low brush surrounding the cenote. The words he spoke to me were familiar before he jumped into the water and left me behind. This part now, was new, as I watched from his perspective as he dove down deep through the clear teal water. Down and down, he swam, until the light became dim. Finally, he reached the bottom which was littered with any number of calcified objects. Things shaped like plates, pitchers and bones—so many bones. He swam to one side of the pit and reached into a hollow. Inwardly I cringed on his behalf, waiting for some eel to shoot out and bite his fingers. His fingers wrapped around the large smooth ball, as big as a softball and he gently pulled it out. Through his senses I could feel it almost vibrate in his hands. Looking down at it, he held an enormous pearl, opalescent and practically glowing in the dim light. Pressing his feet against the fragile remains littering the pit, he shot up swimming at a pace I could never hope to achieve toward the growing light and the surface of the water.

  Breaking the surface, he beamed with pride, but I could feel his stomach drop as he turned a circle scanning the area for me. He dropped the pearl, letting it float back to the floor of the pit. He allowed himself only the briefest thought for its safety at the bottom. He was almost sick with dread, as he pulled himself out of the water. The image abruptly cut off.

  That’s what she’s looking for, Cora.

  What does it do? I could still remember the feel of it in my—Fynn’s hands. There was something oddly powerful about the object. Do we want to trust her with it?

  Mostly it has to do with seeing things as they are. It shouldn’t be dangerous with her. But I’m not there, at Muria Castle. I can meet you there, but I doubt she’ll let you all go. She’s going to want leverage. If you all go, she won’t have any reason to believe that you’ll come back.

  Isn’t there something else I could leave her with? Maybe make one of those musical promises?

  You can try it, but witches are not trusting. I doubt it will be that ea
sy. Do what you have to. Be careful. I’m stuck on a job for the king, but I’ll get back as soon as I can. You can do this, but if you need me, you know where to find me. You’re not alone in this. I’ll get back to the island and we can go together. Warmth seeped through his thoughts and the cold sea water around me wasn’t as chilly as it had been.

  Alright. I thought the words and opened my eyes, alone again on the side of the decaying ship. That water was colder without Fynn’s company, even if it had only been in my mind.

  {MISSING SYMBOL}

  “I’m going to need to make a trip to get the pearl.” I told Nahwai while we all stood together in her cabin. I looked her in the eyes while I spoke and she seemed to preen. It was nauseating. She didn’t seem at all surprised that I would be able to get it, or that I hadn’t brought any selkies in the room with me. What had she thought that I could access a selkie to help me? And why would a selkie necessarily know how to get the pearl? I should have asked more questions when I talked to Fynn. Obviously, there was something I was missing that Nahwai knew, and Fynn too probably. Perhaps it was because she knew where I had come from. The island was home to a large group of selkies. Did she know that the pearl was being kept on the Seal Islands?

  “Of course. “She smiled wide, her gnarled yellowing teeth little more than rotten stubs in her mouth. I fought to keep a grimace from replacing my own smile. “And you will leave the darling pair here while you go.”

  “I was hoping that they could come with me?”

  “And what would you leave in my safekeeping until you returned?” Something more animal than human shone in her eyes. An eager hunger.

  “Could we not bind me to a promise? That I will return as soon as possible with the pearl?”

  She clucked her tongue. “But who’s to say when that would be? What might be possible is entirely too subjective. However,” she reached a crooked hand and toyed with a floating lock of my dark hair as it curled around my face, “You could leave something else of value with me.” She ran her blotchy finger down the bridge of my nose and I fought the urge to gag.