Page 63 of The Dark, Dead, Deep

“Cormac—” Shay’s gaze twisted.

Rainn held out his hands. “He’s still alive. But not for long.”

Tor and Shay exchanged a glance.

“How is that possible?” I whispered. “Water fae dissolve when they die.”

Rainn eyed the wires as if he could see how poisonous they truly were. “How does your uncle’s magic work exactly?”

“He’s a Weaver Sídhe. He can only use magic by weaving it into something. It’s good for making weapons or things to protect but not great at combat.” I recited what I knew from my limited lessons surrounding the different types of undine Sídhe. My hands flailed at my side. “I don’t know how it works. His most favored in the court wore his creations as jewelry, but I didn’t think it did more than make them look beautiful or allowed them to gossip without being overhead.”

“We have to get those people out of there,” Tormalugh declared. “Do you think you can get to Cormac?”

“Yes.” Rainn nodded. But we all heard the unspoken words.But it won’t be easy.

“How do we get through the wires?” Shay put his hands on his hips.

Silently, Tormalugh bent down and picked up a rock. He flung it at the spider web of enchanted wires without a word.

I didn’t know what I was expecting. An explosion, perhaps. Instead, the wires unfurled like the arms of a greedy child and snatched the rock the moment it connected with the wire. I didn’t even want to think of what the wires would do to a living person.

“Were there any undine down there?” Shay asked, and he deliberately didn’t look at me as he asked.

I connected the dots before anyone could answer him. “No.” I swam backward. “I’m not going down there.”

Pain flashed across Rainn’s face. “Maeve…”

There were a dozen arguments that died on my tongue. Each one piling up like a selfish and immature heap of my failings as a person.

I didn’t want to die.

I didn’t even like Cormac. He had been nothing but nasty to me, and that was before he had killed dozens of undine juveniles on the Frosted Sands.

And most importantly, I didn’t want to die.

I hadn’t even reached my magical majority yet.

I hadn’t met my shíorghrá, if they existed.

“We can’t go to Tarsainn without Cormac Illfin.” Tormalugh turned to me, his dark eyes impossible to read. “They’ll kill us on sight.”

“Then I won’t go to Tarsainn,” I snapped back.

Tormalugh arched a brow. “Unless you plan to take to the land and journey into the Night Court, you are not going to find sanctuary in these waters without all of us. Including Cormac.”

As much as I wanted to declare that I would leave the lake if I needed to, I couldn’t. The water and I were one. I had bonded with the lake. Every moment out of it felt like being away from a loved one. I had been weaving daydreams about leaving for the Dark Sea, but they had just been dreams.

I glanced back to the gloom. “We don’t even know if I can go through,” I said, but my voice was thin, and the excuse didn’t gain purchase.

“I’ll show you the best path through the wires.” Rainn shook out his selkie skin again and draped the coat over his shoulders, becoming a seal in the blink of an eye.

Tormalugh and Shay drew their weapons. A dagger for the nymph and a sword for the kelpie.

“We’ll guard the pass,” Shay declared, and Tor nodded in agreement.

I didn’t have the heart to ask what they were guarding against. I still felt the hunger in the water, enough to play tricks on my mind and make my own stomach rumble.

Whatever lay beyond the wires was dangerous, living, yet the princelings were so full of confidence. They didn’t have a clue even though they had magic and I did not.

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