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

“The boat will get here when it gets here.” A voice drifted from behind us as Shay stepped out from the trees.

He adjusted his paneled coat, more suited to Siren trends than the clothes the Nymphs favored.

The leather had slits for wings that fluttered in the wind, though even with the openings, it looked warmer than Shay’s other clothing.

“Where have you been?” Tor squinted.

Cormac stepped forward. “Pulling the clothes from a Siren, I’d wager.” His nose wrinkled, but his lips pulled up in a nasty sneer.

Though I didn’t turn to face Shay, I felt his gaze on my cheek. I turned back to the water, telling myself it didn’t matter what he did.

Nothing mattered.

I brushed my thumb over the rough edge of the stone in my pocket, feeling the comforting stab of its magic as it drew blood from my thumb pad.

The Kraken’s eye.

Its magic wormed its way under my skin, and everything seemed brighter. More focused.

I knew I had to give it back. My piece of the High Throne.

I had made a bargain with the Kraken, and I would be punished if I did not see it through.

But I didn’t want to.

I didn’t even know why.

I should have thrown the stone into the sea and washed my hands of it.

But the oily darkness under my skin demanded that I rely on its magic to bring a tiny piece of comfort and pain.

I needed it.

I didn’t know why.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t articulate the squirming mass of emotions that burdened me, but physical pain seemed much more straightforward. It made everything clearer. A glass-like lake surface instead of a tumultuous shore ravaged by a storm.

Shay tapped my shoulder, and my entire body recoiled as if expecting a strike.

I tried to hide the reaction, and Shay pretended not to have noticed, but the moment clung to the air like a heavy fog.

He held out his hand, palm facing up, revealing a black pearl—the likes of which I had never seen before.

The surface shimmered, the black color hiding a sea of deep emeralds and purple hues.

I chewed my lip, masking my intrigue. My fingers itched to pluck the pearl from his hand.

It felt similar to the stone.

Gods magic.

“The Siren Queen… Nuada .” Shay cleared his throat, and the dark hue of his cheeks deepened. “She told me to give you this. I also have one for Cormac, but he told me to go feck myself.”

I cocked my head to the side, a question in my eyes though I did not voice it.

“It is meant to hide your nature should you come into contact with water,” Shay explained.

“The Siren Queen warned that it might not work for long in your case. Apparently, the magic of the gods does not often mix well. The Siren Queen… Nuada …” He corrected himself again.

“Her magic is of the sky, and Belisama’s is of the water. ”

I was thankful Nuada had thought of such a thing.

We all understood the need for subterfuge.

I wasn’t sure how long I looked out on the water before the tiny wooden boat crept out from behind the rocks, bobbing so forcefully I worried it would capsize.

The vessel approached by the moon's light until it reached the sand shelf.

A single person threw an anchor to the shore to still its approach.

The black pearl sat heavily in my throat as if it had gotten lost on the way to my stomach, and I worried my magic would reveal my pearls and scales the moment my feet touched the water.

A male threw himself from the boat's edge, landing on his feet, though still waist-deep in water. Little more than a shadow, the sailor waved toward us.

“ Darragh .” The boatman called out. The password, so we would know he could be trusted.

The name of the Siren Queen’s firstborn—a reminder of our mission.

“Queen of Air and Darkness,” Tormalugh replied, stepping between me and the shore, blocking my view of the boat. I placed my hand on his shoulder, but the Kelpie did not seem inclined to move.

Overprotective.

Too little, too late.

The captain waded to the shore, unbothered by his sodden linen trousers.

I expected a sailor to be burned by the sun, wrinkled like leather, as the pirates had been when I had been dragged on their vessel, but the captain was unharmed by the sun.

His pale skin glowed in the moonlight as he flashed a smile, revealing a mouth filled with needle-like teeth.

“Merrow.” The sailor dipped his head. “My creed. Not my name. The Merrow are guardians of the Dark Sea, though few of us are left. Those that remain live by the Everfall Port.”

“But not you.” Tormalugh’s voice was light, but even I felt the chill of his suspicion.

The Captain belted a laugh. “Even a simple fisherman is not immune to the charms of the Siren Queen.”

“You mean her claws ,” Cormac muttered, like a sullen child.

“Those too.” The Merrow agreed. “We’re burning moonlight. The sooner we set sail, the sooner we get to Everfall. Can you all swim? Do I need to carry anyone?”

We exchanged looks and I bit back a smile. Shay nudged Cormac forward.

“This one needs carrying.” The Nymph pressed his fist to his mouth to stifle a laugh. “He doesn’t have his sea legs .”

Whatever argument Cormac had died on his tongue. The Mer-King crossed his arms over his bare chest and sneered, gritting his teeth. Though the Siren Queen trusted the Merrow, we couldn’t take chances.

Balor wasn’t finished with us yet. A group of four males traveling with a female Sídhe might go unnoticed, but a Mer this far from Tarsainn would not.

Gossip was easily spread, even by those in fear of the Siren Queen. It only took one cup of ale.

I had to give it to the Merrow; he made no jokes or snide comments as he pulled Cormac onto his shoulders as if he were a sack of grain rather than a muscular male.

We followed the Merrow into the water, and I winced as the chilled kiss of the sea pressed against my skin. I waited for the familiar sensation of my scales emerging, but nothing happened.

Nuada’s black pearl had worked, for now.

The Merrow climbed the wooden ladder at the side of his boat, flinging Cormac onto the vessel with little ceremony. Tormalugh went next, followed by Shay. My hands gripped the ladder's bottom rung, and I paused, feeling the stone in my pocket grow heavier in the water.

I had forgotten Rainn was behind me until he spoke.

“Need help?” His sky-blue eyes twinkled.

I gave him what I hoped was a reassuring smile, though I knew it didn’t reach my eyes, and pulled myself onto the ladder—ignoring the burn of Rainn’s gaze against my back.

I did not have much experience on boats. I tended to swim under the waves instead of riding them, but I couldn’t argue with the ingenuity of the land-fae.

Though the boat was not as austere as a pirate vessel, a large portion was sheltered, save for the pointed beak at the front. There were no sails, though the wind stirred the waves and rocked the boat.

“Make yourselves comfortable!” The Merrow called out as he pulled up the ladder with Rainn still attached to the rungs.

The Selkie shot me a grin when he caught me staring.

The Merrow sauntered past us, cupping his hands to his lips as he blew into his palms—as if to ward off the chill.

A strange green light lit up like a ball of living water.

The captain juggled the magic ball in one hand and lifted the lid of a box at the back of the boat, forcing the ball into the wooden chest like a man wrestling a vicious eel before slamming the lid closed.

The small chimney at the front began to puff a deep emerald smoke into the air, though no sound came from the boat as it began to vibrate and twist in the water.

I found a seat under the wooden partition and leaned over the edge. Watching as the water danced, darting away from the subtle vibrations of the boat.

The Merrow turned the boat, facing the horizon, and we started our journey to Everfall, on the other side of the Night Court.

The air was so cold that my breath fogged in front of me. Snow drifted from the sky in fat, lazy flakes, dissolving as they touched the water.

I shivered before the familiar weight of Rainn’s coat settled around my shoulders. The Selkie’s skin had followed me, offering comfort, though I hesitated to take it.

I brushed my hands over the soft fur, feeling its warmth, knowing it shared Rainn’s body heat.

My eyes met his from across the boat, though he looked away quickly as if he didn’t know how to talk to me, just as I didn’t know what to say to him.

I wanted to scream. To cry and bash my fists. To claw at the scars on my wrists and the tough skin, reopened by the teeth of the throne.

I opened my mouth and closed it again, clenching my fists and looking down.

“How long would it take to swim the Dark Sea?” Cormac sauntered over, his golden braid whipping behind him as he sat beside me. “A week by boat, but I bet I could swim faster.”

My nose wrinkled, but I couldn’t resist the bait. “Do you want me to push you in so you can test that theory?”

My voice was husky with disuse and unshed emotion.

Tormalugh and Rainn’s heads snapped up at the sound of my voice.

I ignored them, though their attention burned the side of my face.

Cormac threw his head back, barking a pompous laugh. “Do you want to try?”

I raised a brow. Cormac might have been much bigger than I was, and the Dark Sea was not a friend like the Twilight Lake, but I was sure I could throw him overboard if I genuinely wanted to.

Cormac’s green eyes flashed in challenge, excited by my ire. “I began to think you had lost your voice.”

I rolled my eyes, huffing as I turned away. The Siren’s cove grew smaller in the distance as the boat sliced through the water.

I knew he was goading me, but it was hard to resist. I didn’t have to pretend with Cormac. He’d killed me; I didn’t have to smile and tell him I was perfectly fine when I wasn’t.

I settled for: “Feck off, Illfinn.”

He placed his hand on his chest, over the scar on his heart. “You wound me.”

“No more than you’ve wounded me.” I snapped, thinking of the blade through my spine.

“I suppose you’re right.” He allowed. “Though it’s all very exciting, isn’t it? On a mission for Nuada, the goddess of the sky.”

“The Queen of Air and Darkness,” I muttered.

Cormac’s brow furrowed. “I must admit, I don’t know much about the gods. I suppose Merfolk are more familiar with Belisama than the rest of the Tuatha Dé Danann.”

“Perhaps Dagda will emerge from the lake to teach you.” I drawled. “The gods live to please.”

Cormac turned to face the water. “The Tuatha Dé Danann is paradise.”

“And?” I quirked a brow.

“Why would so many Gods venture down here to the Aos Sí?” Cormac’s voice turned pensive. “Nuada. Balor…”

Belisama. My mother. I thought but did not verbalize.

“Speculating about the gods and their intentions never ends well.” I hadn’t heard Tormalugh's approach. The moonlight reflected in his endless black eyes. “I would not put it past Balor to be listening, even now.”

My body was locked in place. My blood was cold, and my muscles frozen.

Tor and I were Shíorghrá, but I couldn’t even look at him.

Cormac shifted in his seat, turning to face the Kelpie. “Should I cower in fear?” The Mer-King chortled.

“Balor holds Cruinn,” Tor said through gritted teeth. I heard the strain in his voice.

“And we’re a fortnight away on foot.” Cormac waved his hand. “Lighten up, King of the Reeds. It might do you some good. It can’t be easy to walk on two legs, or even four, with a stick up your arse.”