Page 28 of Wicching Hour (The Sea Wicche Chronicles #3)

TWENTY-EIGHT

Under the Sea

H e waited.

“Um, there’s this podcast. Do you know what that is?”

He thought a moment and then nodded.

Huh. I wouldn’t have guessed that. I explained who the man was, his stalking, and what he was saying on his podcast.

My dad sat with that a moment and then said, “A human?”

I nodded.

“I can take care of this for you, daughter, though I don’t understand why a weak, cowardly human’s opinion should matter to you.”

I blew out a breath and tried to decide how to explain it. “The Goddess gifted me with precognition and psychometry. Your genes super-powered my wicche abilities. On one hand, that’s wonderful and I’m grateful for all my gifts. On the other, though, I’ve been considered a freak all my life.”

His eyebrows slammed down, his expression filled with rage. “Who would dare insult my daughter?” His massive hands fisted on his knees.

I shrugged. “It wasn’t one person. I’m different. I’ve always been different. I’ve thought about this a lot over the years. You know how sometimes animals will banish one of their kind when they look too different?”

He reluctantly nodded.

“I think it might be like that. Other wicches see me as a threat. It wasn’t that long ago that being accused of wicchery meant torture and death. Humans see me as a strange unknown and that makes them nervous. And then you have those attracted to the fae blood, so attracted but afraid. That combination often merges into violence.”

He stood abruptly and went to the railing. “I was assured by your mother that she would take good care of you. That I was to leave you to her so you would be safer in this human world, that my presence would be a danger to you, and now I find out that they’ve been mistreating you?” His roar was deafening.

My insides shook. He’d wanted to know me, to be a father to me.

He turned and held out a hand, saying, “Come with me. I will show you how you should have been treated your whole life.”

I stood and took his hand, unsure of what was happening, but after listening to the podcast, I was happy for the distraction. He glanced at my jacket and then it was gone, my phone along with it.

“They’re inside,” he said. “You won’t need them.” He studied me and then laid his hand on my head for a moment. “No more headaches.”

And then we were flying over the railing and diving deep into the ocean. My father cut through the water like a dolphin, swimming faster and deeper than I ever could. Before I knew it, we were diving to the bottom of the Monterey Canyon, two and a half miles deep. We were in black water, but my eyes had adjusted and I marveled at the anemones and jellies. We passed a catshark and a flapjack octopus, basket stars and brittle stars, sea cucumbers and sea angels. I was almost positive I caught a glimpse of a vampire squid.

This was one of the greatest gifts I’d ever been given. As we moved farther out into the Pacific, a pod of orcas and a fever of bat rays swam with us, flanking my father. At one point, it looked as though the ocean floor was moving with us. It wasn’t until the floor rose above us and breached the surface that I realized we’d acquired a blue whale in our phalanx. I sensed there were even more out there with us, but I couldn’t see them.

At intervals, orcas and rays would swim close, brushing against me and then moving back into formation. At first, I’d thought it an accident, but it became clear that there was a coordinated effort amongst them. My father looked back when one ray stayed a little longer than the others, pressing himself against my stomach. Dad raised an eyebrow at the ray, who flapped his wing-like fins in a way that felt like a hug and then moved back with the others.

The orcas leading our party swam straight down. Oh, the blue whale had a calf swimming beside her. Dad and our security detail all angled down into a darkness that proved to be too all-encompassing for me.

If I hadn’t felt the strength of his hand, clutching mine, I’d have questioned if I was trapped in a dream of endless black. I’d lost track of time in the vast inky deep. I had no idea how long we’d been diving, but it was somewhere between forever and the blink of an eye.

My mind may have been playing tricks on me, but it looked as though there was light far below us. As that made no sense, I tried to decide if an optical nerve was reacting to the pressure or if something was firing in my brain. We were far, far deeper than humans or even submarines could go. Whatever my father had done before we’d left, he’d taken care of the headache and the pressure that would normally have crushed my body.

I got so turned around in the unending black, though, I wondered if we were actually swimming up toward light. It was the only thing that made sense.

As we got closer to the strange green glowing light, I noticed people swimming close. Merfolk had joined us. Turning my head this way and that, I tried to catch glimpses of whoever was with us.

By the time I’d stopped gawking at our escorts, the green light was closer and taking on a form. It looked like an old-timey gas streetlight.

The whales, orcas, and rays had pulled away from us at some point when I couldn’t see, leaving only the merfolk who followed us past the green light, down into a narrow crevasse.

I began to worry I was going to get squished between two rock walls, but we made it through the narrow break. It opened into a gigantic underwater cavern with many narrow cave entrances.

Clinging to the rock walls were every variety of coral and sponge. Brightly colored anemones dotted the carpet of red and purple algae. A bloom of blood red jellyfish bobbed along the outside edge, and everywhere I looked, merfolk were swimming in and out of caves, some stopping to watch us, others carrying on.

Dad led us to the largest cave opening that glowed in the dark, murky water. Something pale caught my eyes and I looked up. A goblin shark swam above us and out the narrow opening between rock walls. When I looked down, I saw an octopus scuttling along the ocean floor, following us toward the glowing cave opening.

We swooped under the lip of the cave and then up, emerging into a pocket of air. Dad climbed out, pulling me along with him. We stood in a huge torchlit cave filled with beautiful antique furniture. Paintings that should have been in museums hung on the rocky walls.

A willowy woman with light blue skin and long green hair moved forward. Bowing deeply, she said, “Welcome back, my lord.”

When she rose, my father wrapped an arm around my shoulders. “Cerene, this is my daughter Arwyn.”

Cerene’s eyes widened and she dropped into another deep bow. “My lady, we are honored to have you with us.”

“Thank you very much.” I looked around. The underwater cave looked like a sitting room in Versailles. “Where did all of this come from?”

Dad waved a hand as though it were nothing. “Shipwrecks. My people find all sorts of treasures that they like to bring me.” He blew out a breath and made his way between large pieces of ornate furniture. “Come. We can sit over here.”

Worried I’d ruin the fine silks with my wet clothes, I scanned myself and realized he’d already dried us. I reached up to feel my hair. It always suffered the most from drying spells. It was still shiny and soft. He’d have to teach me how to do that. It’d save me hours.

“May I bring you and your daughter refreshments, my lord?” Cerene asked.

He nodded, gesturing to a velvet settee. “Can you also ask Mythis to come report his findings?”

“Of course, my lord,” she bowed again and moved into the back of the cave, disappearing in the dark.

Where was the light coming from in here?

“There are lanterns set throughout. They’re brighter than usual, as you seemed to be having trouble seeing in the dark.” Once again, he answered my unspoken question.

“Can you hear my thoughts?”

He nodded. “Of course. As can you. You’ve chosen to erect mental walls. I have not.”

“Doesn’t the constant noise, the negative thoughts, the judgments get to you?” They’d made me crazy before I’d learned to build the walls.

He began to shake his head and then said, “I see the problem. You’re granting everyone the same level of importance in your thoughts.” His hand fisted on his thigh. “This is something I could have taught you when you were young. Why in the realms would we want to know the thoughts of every being? You need to filter, to teach your brain who to focus on and who to ignore.

“You do the same with your vision. Do you pay attention to every single person you see in a day or does your brain assign the vast majority to a background role, while you focus on the ones who matter to you, the ones who spark your interest? The same can be done with thoughts. They can blend into background until you focus on the one or ones who interest you.”

I leaned forward. “I would love to learn how to do that.”

He gave a nod. His expression was stern, but his eyes betrayed his pleasure. “Then I shall teach you.”

A man walked in. He looked like an elf but would probably need to be some kind of water fae to live down here. Dad watched him, eyebrows drawn together a moment before he quickly rose and bowed, pulling me along with him. I mirrored the bow as best I could, unsure of what was happening. I’d thought he was sending for one of his guards. He’d asked for a report but now he was standing and bowing.

The elf was tall and thin, with long white hair, pale purple eyes, an elven sword on one hip, and a dagger on the other. He glided silently across the large cavern. Blinking, I tried to make sense of how his form shimmered in and out of sight, as he appeared to be covering more ground than his strides would indicate. Everything about the elf seemed just a hair off.

My father’s boot tapped the side of mine, and I remembered that he, and perhaps this elf, could hear my thoughts. Thinking of nothing proved to be quite difficult, so I focused on the large indigo opal on the elf’s finger. For some reason, it made me think of my cousin Sam Quinn.

“So,” he began, “this is your daughter.”

“It is,” Dad said, his head bowed again.

I looked up into his luminous eyes and saw mischief. I grinned, feeling no malice from him—or her. This was a glamour, and they had a feminine feel. I had no idea who was behind it, but they weren’t who I was looking at.

“Perceptive,” they said, glancing at my father.

Damn. I forgot. My mind was supposed to be blank.

Dad shook his head, and one side of the elf’s lips turned up.

“You’ll need to work on that, but your father will help you,” they said. “Now, what is this I hear about you asking for our help in locating a sorcerer?”

“Yes,” I responded. “If it’s not too much trouble, that is. My cousin has become a sorcerer. She and her demon are causing immense harm. I can’t find her. I was hoping maybe the fae could sense something I couldn’t, so I asked for help.”

They lifted a hand and cupped my cheek. “I’m considering your request. Perhaps if you first do something for me, I might reciprocate.” Their eyes closed and I waited, unsure of what they expected of me.

When they opened again, they were a swirling kaleidoscope of colors and they had become much smaller, my height but slim and delicate. She had silvery hair, high cheekbones, and a bow mouth. She was stunningly beautiful and quite clearly the queen.

As she still had a hand on my cheek, I did my best to drop into a curtsy. Dad bowed low beside me.

“She’s quite powerful,” the queen said. “Your Goddess has blessed you as well.” She pulled her hand back and crossed her arms. “We both appear to have plans for you, child.”

She turned to Dad. “You allowed them to keep her too long. You have much to do to teach her to harness and use her magic.”

“Yes, my queen. It is my honor to do so,” he said.

Her gaze traveled over me, stopping at my gloves. A moment later, they were gone. “Your father can also teach you how to protect your gift, so you don’t need those anymore.”

My heart leapt and they both swayed, no doubt feeling it. “Truly? I can control it?”

The queen’s eyebrows raised in challenge. “That remains to be seen, doesn’t it? Will you dedicate yourself to your lessons?”

I thought about that huge order for the Winslows hanging over me and the gallery itself. I’d just have to make it all work. “I will.”