by Vanessa Skye
The showy wealth and luxury of this kingdom makes me realize two things: just how modest Nuadha and his city are, and I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like this particular creature.
“So it is true,” the water king says as he leans forward, his white eyes widening as we swim close. “Well done, Daughter Princess.”
Gormlaith bows. “As promised, Father King.”
“Would you prefer to rid yourself of the shackles of land walker adornment?” he asks as he eyes my body like there’s a neon All you can eat – Open 24 hours sign flashing across every inch of it.
It takes me a moment to realize he is asking me if I want to take my clothes off. Absolutely everyone may be unselfconsciously naked, including the king himself, but I feel heat rising in my cheeks and bile in the back of my throat at the very thought if it.
“Um…no, thank you.” I try to bow, which is harder than it looks, but I manage a sort of suspended half-standing posture without floating too far away.
“A pity.” He shrugs, and the blue and green scales covering various sections of his skin and face flash silver in the artificial light. “Suit yourself.”
I’m unnerved by his white eyes staring flagrantly at my face and body and lose all filters between my head and mouth. “Why am I here?”
“Why would you not be here?” He waves his hand in my direction. “You are one of us. Do you not feel at home with your people? You will be a queen here.” He snatches a small, passing fish from a darting school of thousands and sucks it into his mouth whole.
I try not to make a face, crossing my arms and raising an eyebrow instead. “You risked my life to get me here. It must be for a reason.”
He glances at Gormlaith before nodding slightly. “What is your name, child?”
“Alys.”
“Conflict follows your birth, Alys, along with an ancient evil. For thousands of years, the fae have lived without the bloodshed of a major war. Your arrival on Tír na nÓg changes everything.”
“No. I can assure you, I have no interest in starting a war.”
“Well, that may be so, but start one you will. It was fated long ago, child of three worlds.”
“Why does everyone keep calling me that?”
“If you do not know yet, then it is not for me to tell you.” He waves, gesturing toward the others quietly watching this insane proceeding. “We here have no interest in participating in land walker battles.”
“I understand. Neither do I.”
“We simply wish to be left in peace,” he says, leveling that disturbing white gaze on me once again.
“You are mistaking me for someone else.” I jab my finger in the general direction of the surface. “You should be speaking to King Nuadha. I have no power on Tír na nÓg. He is the king, not me.”
“She who controls the king controls the power,” he replies.
“The king hates me.”
He laughs. “Is that why he impatiently awaits your return? The king does not wish to acknowledge you or what your arrival means to this world. He still thinks he can outrun his destiny. He is young, impetuous.”
I have to wonder how old this creature is if he is calling a four-thousand-year-old fae young and impetuous.
“I was here long before your land walker king and will be here long after he has fallen in some pointless battle for a world that is simply one of many. I know who you are, Alys. You are all fae, as all fae are you. You are water, and you are fire. You are war, and you are peace. You are love, and you are hate. You can unite Tír na nÓg, or you can destroy it. The choice is yours and yours alone.”
I snort and unconsciously, and quite unsuccessfully, try to stomp my foot in frustration. “I don’t understand what you want me to do!”
“No,” he drawls the word out in a way that makes his boredom evident to even the densest sea slug, “you don’t, so let me be clear. You will deliver a message to the land walker king…this Nuadha. Tell him to keep the land walker wars far from those who would live in peace within the waters of the world. If he doesn’t, I will not hesitate to protect my kingdom and the lives of my people.”
“I fail to see how you have any say in it.” Somehow, I can’t picture these strange fish-like fae wielding swords on land, and there is no way the land fae can effectively engage them in a lough or ocean.
He smiles, and I notice his teeth come to needle-sharp points, like a shark’s. It is not a pleasant smile. It’s the smile of a creature with an ace up his nonexistent sleeve.
“Do not let preconceptions fool you, child. There is enough liquid in the subterranean places of this world to submerge your land and everything on it under ten miles of deep water. Tell Nuadha to remember this when he makes his choices, Alys, for we surely will.”
“I will tell him.” I doubt he’ll care, but whatever.
“And now, a message for you, Alys.” He looks at me with a definite leer.
“Okay.”
“We here wield the only power that can destroy the ancient evil your arrival heralds, for only water can extinguish fire, just as only night can extinguish day. I must admit, I find you…intriguing, and I wish to ally with your power and your beauty. When the time comes, and you need help to turn the tide in your favor, call for me. I will come. In exchange, you will become my wife and queen of all the deep places.”
Gormlaith, who has remained quiet until now, scowls. “But Father—”
“Silence!” He turns his creepy gaze back on me. “I am in need of a wife since my last beloved was lost to the abyss.”
Gormlaith shoots me a look of utter hatred but remains silent.
I consider this eerie fae king with his scales, pointy teeth, and white eyes and hair, and resist the urge to tell him how absolutely revolting I find him and exactly how this deep lake of hell would have to freeze solid before I willingly became his wife.
Instead, I say, “I don’t even know your name, so how could I call you?”
“I am Lir,” he says. “You have but to whisper my name, and I will come to you, my queen.”
Before I have a chance to reply, I’m snatched off my feet and pushed out of his throne room.
A swirling eddy flings me out of the bubble city and drops me on my ass along the freezing rocky bank.
As I heave water out of my lungs, a small part of me notices night fell while I was otherwise occupied. The rest of me is busy working to breathe normally.
I start shivering and gathering my bearings, the slits in my neck close, and the film over my eyes disappears while Mandrake approaches and nibbles my cheek in greeting.
Surprised, I push my face into his. You waited for me?
I was unconcerned. You are my fae. I know if you live or not.
I grab Mandrake’s thick shaggy mane and pull myself to my feet. I don’t know if it’s the cold or all the swimming, but I can barely stand, let alone walk.
“I guess everyone else gave me up for dead,” I say with a wheezing cough.
“That is untrue, child,” Nuadha says behind me, dropping a dry blanket across my shoulders. “I sent the others on and waited for you. Your beast seemed confident you’d return.”
“Oh.” I clutch the blanket tighter and shiver. “Thank you.”
“Aiden and Baird were both terribly distressed by your disappearance. In the end, I had to order them to the earth fae settlement. Their fussing was getting on my nerves.”
“Sorry to ruin your afternoon,” I say sarcastically.
“You only set us back a few hours,” he says with a flick of his wrist.
I glare but choose to tighten my grip on the blanket, instead of his neck, and ignore his comment altogether. “I don’t understand what’s happening to me, but none of this shocks you? Not even a little?” I point toward the water. “I was breathing in lake water like a freaking fish! I talked to the king of the water fae, and listened to his creepy proposal to be his queen, all while he ogled me like a dirty old man, I might add…but only after making me his messeng
er. He has a more than few words for you! He’s not your biggest fan.
“You’ve seen me fight, create fire, and burn fae from the inside out! Does nothing surprise you? Have you been alive for so long that all this is just-just boring to you?” I yell.
He picks me up around the waist without warning and dumps me on Mandrake’s back before jumping on the back of his ebony steed. “We have ten miles to cover in darkness. Let us be off without undue chatter,” he says and leads the way.
“So, you’re not going to answer me?” I say after a good few minutes of seething.
He shrugs. “Answer what question in particular? There were many.”
“Why you don’t seem bothered by what is happening to me?”
He slows his horse until we are riding side by side. “I will admit that, initially, I was confused by your considerable talents. Your fire is certainly something to behold. I have not seen power like that for thousands of years.”
“But now you’re not?”
He sighs. “I have been alive for many millennia, and in all that time, I have watched the fae evolve into the creatures you see today, specialized in their talents, grasping at the tenuous threads of their magic desperately, like one might a hound on a leash. But they were not always this way. Back after the creation of the world, when gods, goddesses, giants, dragons, and unicorns walked among the fae as if it was the most natural thing in the world, some select fae could do what you do.”
“They could?”
“Yes. Many ancient fae displayed multiple talents—water, war, fire, earth, forest, wind, music, and animal. Some fae embodied them all.”
“What happened?”
“As the years moved on and our creators diminished over time and space, so did the magic. Soon, fae talents dwindled until there was only one. Then, the last of our gods, our mother Danu, left us. Now, more of the Talentless are born every day, and the magic seems to be fading from this world altogether. Tír na nÓg is evolving into something else, whether we like it or not. You are simply a remnant of a long-ago era.”
“I don’t understand. Shouldn’t I have less magic, not more?”
He gives a one-shouldered shrug and sighs. “Given Baird thinks you are only half fae, this is true. You should have minimal magic, if any. And yet, here you are, displaying multiple talents, and developing more as time passes. We cannot know why or what it means until we discover your parentage. Worrying about it is pointless. All will unfold in the goodness of time. It always does.”
His comments are so infuriatingly smug that I want to scream in frustration. Instead, I bite my tongue and watch his regal posture and calm face as relaxed on horseback as if he was walking across the grassy ground on his own two feet.
“You are very old. Is that why I see more magic around you than other fae?”
“You can see the magic?” he asks with an arched eyebrow.
“Yes.”
“Can you manipulate it?”
It is on the tip of my tongue to tell him I can when something stops me again. I shake my head and purse my lips.
He snorts. “Yes, I have more magic than most so that I might wield Danu’s flaming sword. Were any other fae to touch it, they would perish immediately, including you.”
It is pitch-black under the cloudy night sky, but Nuadha seems to know where he’s headed, and I trust Mandrake will tell us if any unfriendly fae approach.
“What was the message the water king sent to me?” Nuadha asks after a while.
“Huh? Oh, right. He said you need to keep your land walker wars away from him and his people, or he will submerge Tír na nÓg under ten miles of water and put an end to the wars once and for all.” I do my best to mimic his irritating, high-and-mighty tone.
Nuadha makes a deep growling sound in the back of his throat. He’s quiet for several seconds before he grounds the words out from between his clenched teeth. “If the old fool wants a battle with me, he shall have it!”
“Just how many wars do you think you can fight at one time? Talentless, the water fae. Who’s next? Jesus, you’re such an ass!”
Nuadha kicks his horse ahead of Mandrake again and speaks over his shoulder. “You clearly do not think war is the solution.”
I shake my head, even though he can’t see me. “On Earth—the human earth—wars are constantly fought over a variety of ridiculous things, like gods and borders and natural resources. And from what I’ve seen, war hasn’t solved a single problem yet. It simply creates new ones. It’s like the entire human race is hell-bent on destroying itself. And from what I’ve seen, the fae aren’t that far behind.”
“War is always the solution!” Nuadha scowls. “You are too young to understand otherwise. If your enemy does not see reason, you make him see reason.”
We ride a while longer with me shivering on Mandrake’s back as the day’s events take their toll on my body.
The king slows and allows me to catch up with him. Even though Mandrake is taller than Nuadha’s mount, the king is still a head taller than I am. We ride side by side for a good ten minutes in complete silence.
When Nuadha does speak, his voice is so soft that I almost don’t hear him.
“I have something for you, Alys.”
“For me?”
“Yes!” He scowls. “Did you not recently turn eighteen?”
His mood swings are more dizzying than the cold. “I-I did.”
He reaches into his saddlebag and pulls out something that glints as it catches the moonlight piercing through the clouds. “Here,” he says, handing it to me.
I gasp. It’s the most beautiful dagger I have ever seen. The carved silver hilt is studded with diamonds the size of nickels and wrapped with long strips of red leather. Its sheath is an intricate filigree design of wood and silver, similar to those on his breastplate.
I ease the sharp edge of the heavy curved blade out of its holder. It looks like a short Samurai sword. “It’s beautiful! Thank you.” A rush of warmth takes the place of the cold that seeped into my bones only moments before. My heart flutters and I smile.
“It was Danu’s. I thought it fitting you have it.”
I blink, and my mouth drops open before I whisper, “This is a special gift. Are you cert—”
“A special gift for a special faeling.”
“Faeling?”
“Faeling,” he says firmly.
“So…are you behaving like my father or something?” The thought is quite crushing.
“I have no interest in being your father. It is a gift, nothing more. Do not read anything else into it.”
“Okay…” One moment, he is wonderfully kind, and the next, cruel. I can never tell which man I’m going to get, and his glorious face muddies it all.
I see muted lights and streams of smoke off in the distance, and I figure we must be nearing the earth fae community he spoke of earlier.
“So, you have both the king of the water fae and a great general vying for your attentions, Alys. Whom will you choose for your husband?” He sounds more bored than interested in my answer.
“I have no interest in romance or marriage.” The words snap out of my mouth like a whip cracking.
He stares at me as we ride several yards without a single word then shifts in his saddle. “Good decision,” he mutters, kicking his horse into a canter.
***
The earth fae community is buzzing with life when we arrive. Several dreadlocked fae appear out of a small opening in a low mound and care for our mounts. Well, they care for Nuadha’s mount. They mostly stare, slack-jawed, at Mandrake eschewing any attempts to lead him anywhere with threatening nickers, nips, and glares.
“It’s best to let him to do his own thing,” I say as Mandrake shoos a couple of harness-wielding fae off with a swipe of his sharp horn. “He’s antisocial. He does like apples, though.”
The fae nod and hurry away, no doubt thrilled to be released from duty looking after such a cantankerous beast.
They should tr
y the one with the flaming sword on his back.
“Alys!” Baird cries and envelops me in a warm bear hug. “Thank goodness. I was so worried. You’re freezing! Let us get you inside.” He leads me toward a large mound located in the center of the grassy hills. “What happened?”
Shivering and holding the damp blanket around me, I start recapping my tale of watery ridiculousness when Aiden soon joins and listens in after giving me a warm hug of his own.
“We must get you warm and dry,” Aiden says. “You can tell us more over the evening meal.”
I nod grateful but unable to speak any longer with my teeth chattering.
A female earth fae with leads me through an arched wood door reinforced with iron hinges and bars and inside the large central dirt-covered mound. Instead of the expected muddy hole with dirt underfoot, we step across floors made of smooth paving stones covered with thick, colorful rugs and into wide-open room with colorful tapestries on the walls and a vaulted ceiling held up by carved beams.
I follow my escort along a tunnel then down a long set of stairs to yet another iron reinforced door.
She raps twice, and the sound of a heavy lock being thrown and a metal bar sliding across metal answer just before the door swings slowly open, revealing an underground city on the other side.
Shocked, I gape at the bustling activity of a market filled with hundreds of fae swarming the area checking and smelling produce, fingering fabrics, asking questions, and haggling as if their lives depend upon it. Patches of stars sparkle over everything from the vaulted ceiling, thanks to skylights…or magic—I can’t tell which.
“This way,” the woman mutters as she pushes through the crowd.
Men and women stop and openly stare as I walk through the space, and I can’t blame them. I must look like a drowned rat. A few try to sell me wears, but one look from me and they back away pretty quickly.
I want to be warm, dry, and to eat. Anyone who stands in the way of my achieving those three things can expect to be punched.
