But the ocean didn’t sweep Bo-Long away; it held him for a moment, then flicked around Thomas’ arms in a cool, wet blanket that inexplicably soothed his anxiety, before retreating back the way it had come. Wanda hadn’t moved, except to close her mouth. Thomas wasn’t sure whether she was overwhelmed by the experience of having a near-tsunami envelop her, or by the power of Kyoko’s magick, but he was grateful for her silence.
And Thomas didn’t know whether it was the ambrosia, the casting field or perhaps a combination of both that accounted for the stronger backlash. Regardless, Thomas was sure that this breaking had been even more comprehensive and complete than the one that had freed him.
Cordelia and the fae sped swiftly along the ocean floor, much faster than Cordelia remembered traversing the sea in the past. The fae marched seven abreast, traveling seven leagues with each step. They had estimated it would take around one hundred and forty-nine steps to reach Mangroves National Park.
After only about fifty steps, the ocean suddenly rocked around them with a tremendous force. Cordelia held their tunnel, begging the Atlantic to continue to protect them in their path. The tsunami-like force rocketed past them, and Cordelia wondered what could have triggered the sudden storm. Then the currents steadied and they continued their shockingly rapid pace towards Africa.
Finally, Cordelia slowed as she entered the mouth of the Congo River. The water raised her up onto land, and she felt a little light-headed at the change from motion to stillness. She tried to steady herself as she watched the fae emerge from behind her, fanning onto the sandy shore until at last Titania stood in front of her.
They had arrived, and the fae seemed to have felt no ill-effects from their swift and silent journey. A group of bolotniks writhed up the river bank on their backs before catapulting themselves into the waxy treetops above. The wind started to whistle as the vila stepped from the water onto the solid air in a prancing gait. One stumbled as a will o’ the wisp lit a blue flame below her foot, and a red-booted seelie laughed at the sight.
There was a sense of joy in the air that had been missing when they last stood on the Yorkshire coast, and Cordelia smiled as she watched the fae disperse into the mangrove forest. Titania waited until the last faerie had disappeared from view, then focused on Cordelia.
“Gratitude is a human emotion. One of the differences between our species,” Titania began. “But arriving here, feeling the clean earth beneath my feet … I perhaps begin to understand it.”
Cordelia thought that was as close to a thank you as any faerie could give. She looked up the river, where the thick forest ran down to its wide banks in a lush, green, near-impenetrable mass. She felt suddenly adrift and uncertain, as the adrenaline rush that had spiked during the trip faded and a mild throbbing set in the base of her spine. The trip from England to the Congo had been amazingly quick; less than an hour had passed from when they had first stepped off the shore.
“Did you feel the disturbance in the ocean early on during the trip? Was that something you did?” Cordelia asked.
“You protected us admirably. We felt your touch sheltering us from the release,” Titania said.
“The release?” Cordelia repeated.
“We didn’t do it; couldn’t have done it if we had wanted to. I can’t be certain of what it was. I know that we didn’t cause it.”
“But you called it a release,” Cordelia insisted.
“I don’t want to misspeak,” Titania said impatiently. “It felt like a release, but maybe I’m just projecting onto the sea my immense relief at being free of that poison. I don’t know.”
“It did feel like a release,” Cordelia mused. “Like the ocean was feeling what I felt a few days ago when the geas was broken. Perhaps freeing you from England lifted Morgan le Fay’s spell more widely?”
“I don’t know,” Titania replied, looking at Cordelia with a glow in her purple eyes. “But even were that the case, you have given more than you have received. We did not bargain a price for our deliverance.”
“I didn’t ask for anything,” Cordelia replied, somewhat alarmed.
“Those are the best bargains one can make,” Titania said with a faint smile, “and sometimes the worst.” She reached out her hand into the air between them as if pulling open a door, though nothing was there. Nonetheless, she plucked a cylinder from the nothingness and looked at it. “After the war was lost, many thought I ought to have simply given it to those who’d demanded it. Claimed it as their right.”
The cup looked as if it had been made out of wood, with the grain running in rings around its circumference as if a stump had been somehow turned inside out. But as the light caught it, Cordelia could see that it was made of metal: gold, silver and copper. Mokume-gane. This was Morgan le Fay’s chalice: the cup that had driven the Aos Sí from the Taiga fifteen hundred years before. As the light hit it, the hint of a rolling E-flat trill sounded in the distance, like a far-away orchestra imitating the river’s swaying currents.
“Take this — not as payment for services rendered, for the gifting of our freedom is a debt that can never fully be repaid. Take it instead so that the Aos Sí might truly have a fresh start. Let us keep this new land clean of the memories of that cup.”
Titania reached out with her other hand and pulled Cordelia’s rubber bag from the air; Cordelia knew she had left it on the Yorkshire shore in her sudden need to feel unencumbered on this journey. Titania opened the flaps, placing the chalice inside, then secured it and extended it to Cordelia.
“Titania, I’m not sure—” Cordelia didn’t reach out to take it, but wasn’t entirely sure how to decline.
“Keep it, use it, melt it down, or bargain it away. I care not anymore.” Titania smiled a full smile, then moved closer to Cordelia, slinging the rubber bag over her head and shoulder as if dressing her for battle. She kissed Cordelia on each cheek, then took her hands and squeezed them gently. “You will always be welcome here. I pledge you and yours safety and succor for so long as we hold the land.”
Titania’s formality was a dismissal, and Cordelia found that she was relieved to be dismissed. She inclined her head in acknowledgment, then squeezed Titania’s hands and dropped them, turning to walk slowly back into the sea.
Let the fae have their forests, she thought, longing for the comfort of the water. She couldn’t bring herself to care what would happen next; she felt completely drained. Let the Atlantic take her where it wanted her to go, she just didn’t care. Whatever would be, would be. But she had done the right thing. As the Atlantic swept around her, pulling her into its depths, she looked back to glimpse Titania slipping into the mangroves after her people, a brilliant rainbow trailing down to the river in her wake.
Cordelia was content.
So ends Book One of the Fifth Mage War.
Sirens Unbound Page 42
