Page 69 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

It hadn’t escaped my notice that Lady Bloodtide was the ruler of Tarsainn in her son’s absence—my experience with monarchs was vast but unpleasant. I couldn’t escape the familiar feeling of dread as I swam toward the throne at the end of the room.

It should have soothed me that Lady Bloodtide was alone, save for a group of courtiers in the corner taking tea. It didn’t. Whatever the lady wished to say to me apparently required no witnesses save those from her inner circle.

I tilted my head, offering her a polite greeting. Unable to summon a smile or welcoming facial expression as I was faced with uncertainty. I didn’t say a word as I allowed my feet to drop until they touched the stone floor, rather than treading water, to show her the respect that she was due.

Lady Bloodtide had not introduced herself to me. Though I was just the niece of the Undine King and the mad queen’s daughter, I was still a guest to Tarsainn even though I was unwilling.

“Lady Cruinn.” Lady Bloodtide did not stand up or even move a muscle, save for her lips as she spoke. “Shay Mac Eoin of the nymphs informed me that I have you to thank for my son’s life.”

I glanced to the side. “I wouldn’t say that, Lady Bloodtide,” I hedged. “If he lives, I would say that were true. Will he live?”

She bristled. “Our healers are the best in all of the Night Court.” Lady Bloodtide tilted her nose up indignantly, and one of the courtiers stifled a giggle at my expense.

“Of course,” I demurred. “Though Cormac was in a sorry state after what happened at the Whipsering Pass.”

“Hmm,” Lady Bloodtide hummed, and her eyes narrowed as she took me in from head to toe. I understood that she was taking my measure and finding that I fell short. “Could you tell us all what happened at the Whispering Pass? We don’t tend to leave Tarsainn, save for the border patrols and the regiments placed on the front line, but they have not been back for months. What, pray tell, caused my son such injury?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat, as willing to launch into the story as I was to have my teeth pulled. “We approached the Whispering Pass yesterday morning and were to make the journey through to Tarsainn,” I said, keeping my eyes fixed on the tile in front of my feet. “Shay, Rainn, Tormalugh, and I decided to go the longer path on land, but Cormac took several guards and insisted that he must go through the pass.”

“Why did you and the other princes decide to take the longer path?” Lady Bloodtide’s eyes sharpened. They were the same eerie green as her son’s. Her severe and demanding nature appeared to have been passed down to Cormac as well.

“I…” I cleared my throat. “Wehad a bad feeling. A premonition. Cormac did not share that premonition and decided that the shorter distance was worth the risk.” A half-truth at best.

Lady Bloodtide hummed again. “A premonition, you say? Are you a seer?”

I didn’t know why I halted my tongue, even though I wanted to inform Cormac’s mother that I had not yet reached my magical majority. Perhaps it was because I was surrounded by guards and merfolk courtiers that no doubt carried magic that could hurt me if they chose to do so. I was in enemy territory, and the current ruler seemed to have no desire to make me feel welcomed—especially as her son lay on the sickbed because of my uncle’s magic.

So, I didn’t answer her question and wielded silence instead.

Lady Bloodtide pushed herself to stand and glided towards me. Her crimson tail flicked in irritation as the water parted, showing me how fast she could move. My way with the water was screaming at me to run, like a thousand pelts of icy rain on my skin.

The lake knew I was in danger, though no weapon had been pulled and no magic had been wielded. Yet.

“I have a theory.” Lady Bloodtide licked her lips as she swam a slow circle around me. Close enough to reach out and touch my shoulder if she chose to. “I believe you knew that the undine had claimed the Whispering Pass for whatever nefarious purpose they have raught. I believe you told my son that he should go ahead and that when you tried to go the long path yourself, the others followed you after it was too late to call King Illfin back from the pass.”

I scoffed. “That’s fiction,” I said, unable to hold my tongue as brusque disbelief colored my tone. “That isn’t what happened. Any of the other princelings will tell you that.”

“Theprinces—” she corrected, drawing attention to my derogatory nickname, “—did not hear what you said to my son before he took off to the Whispering Pass as if he was being pursued by faehounds. Surely you must have said something to have made his haste all the more pertinent.”

I quirked a brow. “I told him not to go in there, and his stubbornness turned his tail all the faster,” I said dryly. “Surely, you know your son enough to know that he is not one to be told what to do, Lady Bloodtide.”

She acted as if she hadn’t heard me. “What happened after you returned to the other side of the pass and did not see my son?”

I sighed. “We went in to get him.”

“And what did you find?”

I explained how Rainn had gone through and that I had been voted the one most likely to be able to avoid any ill effects from my uncle’s magic.

“How did you know the weavings belonged to the King of the Undine?” she interrupted sharply.

“My uncle is a Weaver Sídhe,” I explained. “His magic can be woven into thread and wire and such. His closest advisors all wear jewelry made of his weavings.”

“And what magic can he weave into wires?” Lady Bloodtide snapped.

I bristled, my eyes flicking to hers. “Anything. It’s about intention.”

“Quite.” She resumed pacing, her tail swishing close enough that each time it moved, I had to gird myself against the current to stand without swaying.

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