Page 1 of The Deep End of Death (Twilight Lake #4)

Over twenty years ago…

Elaine Opal Abyssal was the last in her family to come of age, the beloved child of two prominent members of the Esteemed Undine Court.

Though she had entertained the notion that her magic might be different from her parents, she was expected to greet her magical majority as an órán Sídhe—a Sídhe with the ability to weave their magic into their song.

It was said that Belisama himself possessed all three Undine talents—órán, Troid, or Weaver.

Elaine grew nervous as the younglings gathered in the courtyard of Cruinn castle, city folk, and courtiers alike, though her friends didn’t seem to feel the same way.

The Fion Fola flowed, sacred blood wine the only addition to an empty belly.

Queen Caoimhe drifted onto her balcony, her moonlight hair forming a halo around her angelic face—dark as night, with endless black eyes and freckles like pearls in her skin.

The Queen gave the crowd a benevolent smile and explained what the journey meant. They would each make the sacred migration to the Frosted Sands, where the Aos Sí and the Tuatha Dé Danann reunited once a year.

Younglings usually made the journey alone, but the queen informed the whispering crowd that she would be joining them this year. That some kind of monster had wriggled itself free from the lake's bedrock, and it bore investigation.

If anything, the queen's presence made Elaine want to travel across the lake less .

She wanted to be at home with a good book—one of the enchanted paper tomes her father had procured.

The luxury of paper underwater was something seldom seen, and she wanted more than anything to cuddle up in bed and read the love story between the pages.

“Nervous?” A male voice came from behind her, tinged with amusement. She knew the owner of the voice without turning around.

Calder Drip, the son of a guard and one of the cooks. An Undine that straddled court life without ever partaking. She had only ever seen him at school, where all the younglings in Cruinn were lumped together, but everyone knew Calder.

Elaine blushed, her stomach warming. She tried to speak, but the words became sea foam in her mouth. She wished she’d done something more to prepare, but a day’s fast had left her too tired to even braid her hair.

Calder’s dark eyes sparkled, his face painted with the glowing algae the Undine males wore to imitate Shíorghrá markings.

The Frosted Sands!

Elaine remembered with a jolt, turning to the bridge. Dozens of Fae had already left, their bodies growing smaller and smaller in the distance.

“We can swim together.” Calder shot her a smile, and her stomach flipped again.

“I’m Elaine.” She stammered.

His smile widened. “I know. We sat next to each other in Aos Sí History and Ruminations last year.”

“Your mother made sweet cakes for your birthday. You brought them to class.” Elaine licked her lips as she looked away. “They were good.”

“Just good?” He joked. “Don’t let her hear you say that, or she’ll force-feed you fifty test batches until she gets it right.”

A laugh escaped Elaine’s lips despite her efforts. Her hands flew to her mouth, eyes wide and mortified.

“There she is.” Calder’s eyes softened, and his smile took on a strange quality that Elaine did not understand.

They reached the front of the queue, and when it was their turn, they began their perilous journey to the Frosted Sands.

Together.

It took a day from what the Night Court marked as the morning—when the slim beam of light from the Day Court changed the lake’s color to a pleasant orange—into the night when the only light belonged to the moon.

They had laughed and joked the entire journey. Calder and Elaine: fast friends. The daughter of courtiers and the son of a soldier and cook.

Their migration concluded as the magic ushered them through the pass—spitting them into a beautiful lagoon.

The Frosted Sands.

The Mad Queen had already reached the Frosted Sands before the first youngling, though no one had seen her travel. Queen Caroihme brought a dozen guards, even with no sign of threat along the way.

When the moon reached its apex and the stars began to streak across the sky, Elaine turned to Calder and found though his paint had worn away, the markings remained.

Calder Drip, a male without a title, was her Shíorghrá.

They collided as the moonlight watched above them. Numerous other Undine on the beach found their matches, but none of that mattered as Elaine and Calder made love under the stars.

Hours passed, and the sweat cooled on their skin as Elaine and Calder lay on their backs and watched the stars streak across the sky.

The sky grew closer as the gods turned their attention to the Frosted Sands.

The spark of potential blossomed inside of her—a gift from the gods.

The magic was everywhere. Heady and addictive. She reached out as the starlight slipped through her fingers. A weaver ! She rejoiced. She felt like she could thread the very universe together if she desired.

Elaine beamed and turned to her Shíorghrá, excited to start her journey with him.

He did not smile back.

His eyes were glassy as he looked up at the stars.

His markings had faded.

Calder Drip was dead.