Page 16 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

My future was nowhere near the castle, and once I knew what kind of magic I had and if I had received a mate, I could begin making plans that took me as far away from Cruinn Castle as I was able.

Liam was my uncle’s pet, through and through. The stepson that had been promised a title and a throne if he towed the line. He was my friend, but I prayed to Belisama that the gods did not choose him to be mine.

Perhaps I was too cold for a shíorghrá. My heart seemed to be frozen, like the heart of the lake.

I didn’t know why, but my webbed feet carried me along the path at a leisurely pace as I swam towards the stables, noting the cold and empty building on the side of the castle.

Each of the enchantments in the stable were resting. From the mares made of bubbles, spelled to reach the surface faster than any other creature, to the reed-steeds who could carry a soldier into battle and remake themselves over and over even as strips peeled away from their bodies.

The kelpie hadn’t moved from the final stall at the end. Her head down, and her shining black coat dull and lifeless. Her face obscured by the silver bridle.

I stepped into her stall, but the mare didn’t bother to lift her head.

My heart broke and my eyes burned with unshed tears.

The kelpie took a long and defeated breath, I realized why I could never be with Liam.

He was all too happy to be complicit in keeping the kelpie chained if it meant obeying the orders of the Crown. Even though she was fae, just as I was. Just as Liam was.

I knew that my uncle would find a way to punish me for my display in the hall with the lobster. If I was going to be punished anyway, I might as well do some good, I decided.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered. I didn’t know what for, but the magic in the water wrapped itself around the words and carried me forward.

The kelpie couldn’t move, though I knew she wanted to. I reached for the bridle, feeling the lake. Feeling its pain and determination, and allowing it to fortify my own.

I didn’t know how I did it, but the bridle came away in pieces. I dropped it to the floor, and it sunk, sending a cloud of sediment rising from the stable floor.

It took a moment for the kelpie to realize that she was free. No longer chained, or enchanted.

Though she could have changed forms if she wanted to, the water horse simply blinked, let out a quiet whinny, and bolted for the doors at the entrance to the stable, ripping them clean off the hinges as her legs grew webbed fins along the back and her tail swished and fanned the water behind her, gaining speed.

It seemed like a dream, almost too fast to be real, but soon I was alone, left in the stables with only the enchantments to keep me company and the open doors to the stables swishing in the currents.

Chapter 3

The hours before the migration were to be spent purifying the body of all food and drink. To stay awake until exhaustion turned the edges of our vision to black specks and dancing clouds.

Migration was to become close to the gods, and to travel with the spirits of our ancestors until we met the riptide that would take us to the frosted beach.

The Twilight Lake was as large as the Night Court itself, though we rarely had contact with the land save for trade. The war had made the lake too tumultuous and hungry for many Sídhe to even entertain entering the water if they could not breathe under it. Though land Sídhe were immortal, drowning was apparently a sensation that no one wished to experience.

The Twilight Lake used to be connected to the Dusk Sea by way of a river that had worn its own path many centuries ago, leaving the lake and the river two separate beings save for a single path of brackish water and sharp rocks. Along that path sat the Frosted Sands. I had been told that the water was so blue that it shone like lapis lazuli. The sands as black as obsidian peppered with frost from the icy water that blew off the lagoon. The Frosted Sands were notoriously hard to reach, and the migration was a test of an undine youngling’s mettle. The difficult journey made on an empty stomach, as sleep deprivation nipped at our webbed toes.

The reward for said test was reaching maturity in the eyes of the gods.

Moira, Liam, and I had talked about the journey for years. Of the fae-light vigil in my rooms that night before, to training for the route based on the hazy descriptions from the Sídhe that had gone through the migration.

But I had spent the night alone.

Neither Moira nor Liam came to my chambers.

Would I have to make the journey to the Frosted Sands by myself as well?

Hunger had already churned my stomach like a storm, but nerves made the feeling ten times worse. My eyes burned as I struggled to hold them open, and it took a moment before I realized that the chimes of the clock tower rippled through the palace grounds—announcing that those attending the migration should make their way to the courtyard.

The music had not stopped until an hour prior, and I knew that many of my peers had been dancing, laughing, and sharing stories until the wee hours.

I wondered if Liam had gone back to the party after he had left me alone on the narrow path, but I found it difficult to care if he had. His request had been soselfish.But I couldn’t help but wonder if it was selfish of me to deny him.

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