FIERCE: Sixteen Authors of Fantasy

by Mercedes Lackey

  Detailed pictures burst from the pages in brilliant color, bringing the stories to life. The girl trapped in an ogre-guarded castle looked familiar, though the man waiting to climb to her seemed more sinister than any I remembered.

  On another page a woman stood on a mountaintop, bathed in light that seemed to pool in her hands, black hair swirling around her, a sword sheathed at her waist. It was an impressive weapon, but it was her magic that she chose to wield against the purple dragon that hovered before her.

  I think I could get to like Tyrea, I thought, and flipped the page again.

  I was engrossed in a story about a king who made a fateful deal with a sea serpent when Aren returned. Water dripped from his hair, but his clothes were only wet in spots, as though he’d gone swimming without them and put them back on without drying off first.

  “Very refreshing,” he said. “Should have taken a towel.” He wandered off to an upstairs room, leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor behind him.

  “You’re a strange person,” I told him when he came back down.

  “You should go out.”

  “Should I, now? I’m not partial to freezing water. There must be a tub here somewhere that I can use to wash up. In warm water. Indoors.”

  He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but that seems like a lot of extra work. The water is nice, really. There are hot springs in the lake. Not right here, but they keep things from freezing. I was colder coming back up here than I was in the water. Besides, I left soap down there for you. You’re going to have to go get it, anyway.” He rocked back on his heels and waited for me to answer.

  “Now there’s a logical argument if ever I heard one.” I snapped the book closed and placed it on the table. “Is it safe? No man or woman-eating monsters? It’s a big lake.”

  “Not as far as I know. I’ll come down and keep an eye on things if you want. As an eagle, I mean. Wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

  “What, because you don’t have eyes when you’re an eagle?”

  He shrugged and leaned against the door-post. “Because I don’t care what I see when I’m in a body that’s not human. I still have my own thoughts, but that body doesn’t seem to have human emotions. Or desires. It can be useful.”

  The thought of him seeing me naked, whether he cared or not, was terrifying and yet strangely exciting. I grabbed a towel for my body and one for my hair from the closet and picked my way down the rocky path to the lake, with Aren following close behind. I stopped short, and he had to step sideways to keep from running into me. “But when you change back, you’ll still remember everything you saw, won’t you?”

  He grinned. “Yeah, I can’t do anything about that. But if it makes you feel any better, I won’t look. Not even a little.”

  “Right. I’m sure you’re always a perfect gentleman.” His grin widened, and I wondered what he was like with women when he was at home. Powerful, a king’s son, deadly attractive, and terribly charming when he wanted to be? God help the women of Luid.

  I started walking again, and he fell behind as we reached the dock. There was a soft rustling sound behind me, and a feathered body flew past me and up to the top of a high, bare spruce branch near the water’s edge. He made himself comfortable, then twisted his neck to study the darkening clouds overhead, making it very clear that he wasn’t looking at me.

  I’d have liked a few moments to watch him, to appreciate the magic he’d just performed so casually, but I decided I should get into the water before he started to wonder what was taking so long. I stripped my clothes off and set them on one of the wooden crates that were nailed to the dock. He didn’t look down once, not so much as a glance.

  You are not disappointed in his lack of interest, human or eagle, I told myself as I dipped a toe in the water. It wasn’t as cold as I’d expected. The air was freezing, though, and a sharp breeze blew in from across the water. I took my chances and made a shallow dive.

  The water under the surface wasn’t as cold as a lake should have been in late autumn, but was still cool enough to shock my fire-warmed body. I yelled, sending a flurry of bubbles toward the surface. I arched my back to bring me back to the air and shouted, “It’s not exactly warm!”

  Aren glanced down, held his wings out to the side in an “I never said it was” gesture, and went back to studying the clouds.

  The soap wasn’t as fancy as the stuff at the inn, but clean was clean, and it felt wonderful. The water did, too, once I was used to it. I’d been swimming naked more times than I could count when I was a child, but hadn’t done so in years, and never with someone like Aren around. I’d forgotten the feeling of cool, silky water slipping over my skin.

  I took a deep breath, ducked under the surface, and kicked farther out into the lake, pulling myself along with my arms and relishing the power in my muscles. I’d always loved the water, the way it surrounded me and supported me. It was like flying in a way, suspended between ground and surface. I swam until my lungs burned for air, and came up far from shore. When I looked up, Aren was alert and searching the water for me. I waved to him, and he shook his head and settled back down to preen his feathers, clearly trying to communicate that he wasn’t worried. I laughed and started my swim back toward the shore.

  I took a deep breath and prepared to dive under again. My breath caught in my throat as something wrapped around my ankle and tugged, pulling me straight down. I barely had time to scream before my head was underwater, the light of the surface moving swiftly away from me.

  Chapter XXIII

  Aren

  SHE DIDN’T NEED TO SCREAM. I saw her pulled under. I lifted off and plunged toward the water before I thought about what I was doing, and realized that my eagle’s body wasn’t made for swimming. I would have to change. I’d never done it while I was moving so quickly, and for a second I wondered what would happen if I lost track of where I was and couldn’t call my body back to me. There was no time to think. I did it as quickly as I could, and felt the familiar weight of my body rushing back to me before I hit the water. It wasn’t a graceful dive, but the fall pushed me deep into the lake.

  When the water slowed me, I opened my eyes. The lake water was clear, but with the sun hidden I could hardly see anything. A pale, blurry shape moved below me, struggling as it moved farther away. I kicked my legs, but she was going too quickly. She twisted, and was suddenly pulling herself toward the surface. I continued downward to try to catch a glimpse of whatever had grabbed her, hoping it wasn’t what I thought, but it was gone. I turned to follow Rowan.

  She was holding onto the dock when I surfaced, her arms shaking as she struggled to pull herself up. I looked away. Keeping a casual eye on things when I was an eagle was very different from doing it now. Under other circumstances I might have offered to help, but I didn’t need things to be any more awkward between us than they already were. I watched the lake for signs of trouble, but there was nothing. It was as calm and flat as it had been when I swam earlier.

  “Aren?” I turned back to the dock, where she stood wrapped in a red towel that did a barely-decent job of covering her body, holding another out for me.

  “I think it’s gone,” I said. I took her place holding on to the side of the dock while I caught my breath. Gooseflesh broke out on my skin where it was exposed to the cold air.

  “What was that?” she asked.

  “I didn’t see anything. Just you going under.”

  “It felt like a hand.”

  “Did it?”

  She held her leg out and turned her ankle from side to side. “No claws, no teeth. Grabbed like fingers.”

  That’s impossible, I thought, trying to ignore her exposed skin. They wouldn’t.

  Without warning, something popped up from the water beside me—or rather, someone. His skin had the same faintly grayish cast to it that I remembered, barely noticeable in the overcast light. His black hair was shaggier than it had been the last time we met, but nothing else had changed.

 
; Rowan jumped back and pulled her towel tighter around her body, but she quickly stepped forward again and held out a hand to help me out of the water.

  I spoke more loudly than I meant to. “What the hell are you doing?”

  He pushed his wet hair out of his eyes. “I came to ask you the same thing. I was going to be nice about it, though. And I thought there might be a girl here.” He looked up at Rowan and gave her a wide, friendly grin. “Hello!”

  “Watch it,” I muttered, and he looked back to me.

  “Aah, I see.” He pulled himself up and rested one arm on the splintered wood of the dock.

  “Do you welcome everyone to the lake by trying to drown them?” I demanded, gesturing toward Rowan and nearly dunking myself in the lake in the process.

  “Is that what the commotion was?” He frowned. “Huh.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. I’ll take care of it.” He relaxed and smiled again, as though nothing had happened. “So it’s been what, seven years?”

  “About that.”

  “Seven years. Damn. I mean, darn. All that time and I just get a ‘what the hell are you doing?’ No hug for your best friend?”

  “Not wearing any clothes at the moment.”

  He laughed. “You humans are such prudes.”

  Rowan knelt on the wooden boards, holding the towel so tightly that her knuckles had turned white. Or perhaps it was the cold. She was still shaking. “Excuse me—‘you humans?’”

  “Sorry,” I said. “Rowan, this is Kel. He’s not human.”

  “And thankful for it,” Kel added. He pushed back from the dock and flipped over to dive deep into the lake, showing off a muscular, human-looking torso with gills across his sides that closed in the air. His smooth, iron-gray tail flashed above the water, broad flukes splashing as he disappeared.

  Rowan gasped.

  Kel turned underwater and surfaced next to her a moment later. “Completely warm-blooded though, I promise.” He winked.

  He really hadn’t changed. I rolled my eyes and pulled myself out of the water. Rowan turned away and held out the second towel, and I dried myself and stepped into my clothes, which still lay in a messy pile where I’d dropped them. I sat at the end of the dock and dipped my feet into the water.

  Rowan stood with her arms crossed. “Not to spoil the reunion, but could we please talk about what happened? Someone grabbed me and dragged me under. If it wasn’t you, then who was it?”

  I winced. She wasn’t familiar with mer ways, their discomfort with speculation, gossip, and potential false judgment. Kel offered a reassuring smile. “I have my suspicions. No one you’d know, I’d say. Rest assured, fair lady, you’re safe now.”

  “Thank you.” Her eyes passed over what she could see of him again—quick, but not fast enough that he didn’t notice. He flashed another flirtatious grin, and got a little smile in return. “Excuse me. I’m going to go over there to get dressed.” She went up the path far enough to find some bushes to change behind. Kel watched her until she disappeared.

  “Nice,” he said. “So you two are…”

  “No.”

  “Huh. So would you mind if I…”

  “Yes.”

  He shook his head. “I’ll never understand you people.”

  “Nor should you want to.”

  Rowan came back with her towel wrapped around her hair and crouched with her bare feet tucked under her skirt. The shock of her near-drowning seemed to be wearing off. “Am I interrupting?”

  “I don’t think so,” Kel said. “We have a lot of catching up to do, though, and it’s getting cold up here. I don’t suppose you have any more clothes up at the house?”

  “I think so,” Rowan said. “I’ll go look.” She started to walk away, then turned back. “Um, pants?”

  Kel laughed. “If you insist. Human magic-users aren’t the only ones who can change forms. Want to see?” He hauled himself out of the water and laid on the dock, the flukes of his long tail just touching the water.

  Rowan’s gaze flickered to the end of his tail and back. “That’s fine, thanks. I’ll just see about those pants.”

  Kel slipped back into the water, and we didn’t speak again until Rowan had disappeared into the house. “How’s everyone?” I asked.

  “Good. Everyone’s good. We heard about your father disappearing. So… Sorry, I suppose.” An awkward silence followed.

  “It’s been too long, hasn’t it? “

  He looked up and studied me. “Maybe not. Depends. I’m certainly surprised to see you.”

  “I’m sorry, I know I said I wouldn’t come back. I wouldn’t have if—”

  The door slammed shut up at the house. I excused myself, and went a short way up the path to meet Rowan. She carried a pair of work pants, a heavy flannel shirt, and a pair of clean wool socks.

  “Sorry about that,” I said. “Kel is a good person. Better than most humans I’ve met. He has an odd sense of humor, though. Also, he likes human women. A lot.”

  “Legs are fun!” Kel announced from the other side of the bushes, and Rowan smiled.

  “Don’t worry about it,” she whispered. “He seems nice.” She handed the clothes to me. “But I don’t need to see him change. I’ll go find something to eat.”

  “I’ll help.” I tossed the shirt and pants over the bushes onto the dock.

  “Hey!” Kel yelled. “That almost landed in the—”

  I threw the socks.

  “Quit it! There had better not be boots coming!”

  Rowan laughed again, and we started walking, taking our time. Kel caught up before we reached the cabin. He looked completely human, the gray in his skin having warmed to brown. If Rowan was surprised by any of it, she hid it. I thought she was handling everything well considering how little experience she had with magic, and felt a completely out-of-place sense of pride.

  Rowan went to check on the horses, who had come back from the woods during the night. I added wood to the fires while Kel poked through every cupboard in the house. He found a belt and was threading it through the loops on his pants when Rowan returned. “You people make your clothes so complicated.”

  I brought a bowl of fruit over. “You don’t usually make any clothes.”

  “Too right. Only in this form. This sort of body tends to leave sensitive equipment just hanging out in the wind when you’re not dressed.” He turned to me. “You’re an odd lot, you know that?”

  “You may have mentioned it before.”

  Kel declined the food, but was happy to spend time answering Rowan’s questions about the merfolk, the myth about them having scaled fish tails, where they lived and how they traveled between inland lakes, whether they could all form legs.

  Kel smiled at that question. “Most can, and those who can often do. We have a beautiful place called the Grotto where we dress up, dance, cook food, and where we keep our library and beautiful things collected by those of us who choose to brave the human world.”

  Rowan stared past him. “I would love to see that.”

  “Maybe you will someday. We do occasionally invite human visitors. Do you have any other questions?”

  I snorted at that. “She does, believe me.”

  Rowan gave me a good-natured glare. “What about the stories of mermaids intentionally making human sailors crash their ships?”

  “Absolutely not,” he told her. “That story is a common one, but I’ve never met a mer who would want to cause that kind of harm to anyone who wasn’t an enemy. I know some who might approach lonely sailors, or sing beautiful songs to them to get them through the lonely nights. It’s not our fault that human men can’t steer straight when they’re aroused.” He seemed to think this was hilarious.

  I soon realized that Rowan had been holding back when she asked me about magic. She wanted to know everything, and Kel was happy to share. I should have been glad to have someone else to do the talking, but I wasn’t. I hated how interested she seemed in him, how her eyes shone as she
listened, how she laughed when he made a joke. Another out-of-place emotion. It was none of my business what she did.

  She decided to go out and catch a chicken for supper. “Aren, can I talk to you for a minute?” she asked, and walked out the back door. She waited for me just around the corner. “These are the people we were looking for, aren’t they? The ones who might be able to help me?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “I would have,” I said, “but they’re good at not being found. If they sensed that a stranger was searching for them, they’d have disappeared completely. Sometimes they’ll investigate if they’re curious, though.”

  She rested her hands on her hips and glared at me. “So I was bait?”

  “What? No! Not exactly. But you did make them curious.”

  “If they know you, why wouldn’t they have just come to see you?”

  “I’m supposed to stay away from them. Kel’s band of merfolk were friends of mine when I was young, but that changed as I grew up. They know what I am, what I do, and they don’t approve of how I’ve directed my magical gifts.” She looked away, perhaps agreeing with them. “It was fine for me to be around them when I was a kid, but when I got older it got complicated. My position in the human world made me a danger to them. I volunteered to stay away, but I think they would have told me to if I hadn’t offered. I think they’ll help you, though, if it’s within their power.”

  “They’re that altruistic?”

  “They’re that curious. You should get along well with them.”

  She crossed her arms. “So you were just going to hand me over, and that’s it? You were going to send me to this Grotto place and then disappear?”

  “I didn’t think you’d want to stay with me, anyway, and I didn’t know what else to do.” The thought that she might not want to leave was appealing, yet worrisome. “You know you’ll be safer without me. I can lead Severn away, you can get your answers. They’ll know who can help you.”

  She rubbed her temple, and I wondered if it was a headache or just frustration. I thought headache. Her eyes had a glassy, distant look to them. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”