Page 137 of Cathmoir's Sons

Caileán isn’t laughing when we return to Scilla. She stands not far from where we raised the sea defense, clutching one of the warm throws from Ty Olewydd around her shoulders, looking along the shoreline.

Her brilliant blue eyes glimmer with tears.

Despite our efforts, the storm has wrecked Scilla’s waterfront. The cars that stood sentinel on the road above the concrete shingle are half-buried in sand and seaweed. Thick, jagged splinters, all that’s left of boats and boardwalk, stick up out of the sand drifts.

“Caileán,” I call softly to my mate.

She turns and trudges back through the crunching sand to me. “Look at this,” she whispers.

“I am looking,” I say, tilting her chin up so I can look into her eyes. “I’m taking stock of the repairs and reparations the Cait will make to this town. I am counting the cost against the doom Doctor Prince warned you of. I’m finding the price bearable.”

“Was anyone hurt?” she asks hesitantly.

This is news I didn’t want to give her. My Cait, who are now comfortably established in the town, watching and listening, reported the news to me this morning. I’ve kept it to myself as we’ve made a few repairs to Ty Olewydd and the treasure-hunters have reassembled.

“No one in the town,” I say, to cushion the blow. “They got the warning in time. They’re used to storms here; they stayed indoors. My Cait are already repairing the property damage.

Caileán’s eyes search mine. Whether she plucks it out of my mind or just knows me too well, she hears what I’m not telling her. “Outside of town?” she asks.

“The boat your rival and the Wepwawet were on capsized. The Italian coast guard rescued eight of the crew. Three are missing: the captain, Maher, and van Wyke.”

Her breath catches, breaks. I wrap my arm around her shoulders, cuddling her into the warm blanket and my chest.

“Caileán, you tried to warn them. You did what you could.”

“It wasn’t enough. I didn’t hate Maher. I didn’t hate van Wyke. I didn’t wish them ill. I never wanted themdead.”

“I know. My queen, my love, my darling—you can’t save everyone. Only those who want to be saved.”

Her shoulders sag. “Luca told me once that if your whole family was drowning, the only one you’d save is me. Is this the same thing?”

“I heard him. I was watching and listening, just as I am now.” I run my fingertips along her brow and down her cheek, tucking back strands of blue and black hair that have escaped her braid. “He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t completely right, either. I would save all of them. I’d just save you first.”

I can see the effort she makes to smile. She doesn’t quite get there.

“I care about Scilla, Caileán. It’s my town. The first new den the Cait have founded in my lifetime. I feel personallyresponsible for Scilla. I’ll protect it as long as I live. But those who come here unbidden, unwanted, who ignore our warnings, those I won’t extend my hand over. And I won’t lose any sleep if ill befalls them.”

“This wasn’t a random accident, though.” She sighs. “Icausedthis?—”

“Yes, my queen. You made a hard bargain. It wasn’t the first you’ve made. It won’t be the last. I know decisions that hurt others haunt you. I’d ask to take such decisions off your shoulders, but I think it’s important we both feel the weight of our decisions. It’s what will keep us humble, mortal, sympathetic. Luca says training to lead the Cait’s made me hard and cold. I know that’s true. But I’ve learned at my father’s side, and I know he’s harder and colder than I am. I’ve studied the kings and queens of Faery, and I’ve seen them be harder and colder than I ever want to be. I’m sorry you’re grieving,gan’gail. But I’m alsonotsorry you’re grieving.”

A genuine smile breaks through, although her eyes are still wet with tears. “If you see me becoming hard and cold ...”

“I will be at your side to temper you, Caileán. Always, my love, always.”

She goes up on her toes to brush her smile over my lips.

There areno smiles around the age-polished dining table in Ty Olewydd. The treasure-hunters have heard about the capsize of the Wepwawet ship. Despite their history, they seem sobered by the loss of their rival and the jackalwere.

I expect Arch to be antagonistic about the time lost. Instead, he’s subdued and wants to go over enhanced securityarrangements on the beach as well as a backup plan for entering the anticline now that the Graeae are, hopefully, out of the way.

“We need to split up the Water mages,” Arch says, his gaze bouncing between Rhodes and Gabe. “Keep one in reserve just in case the first team runs into trouble.”

Seeing the wisdom of this, I nod. “Human, I know this goes against the grain, but I’d like you to stay behind with the second team.”

Predictably, Rhodes bristles. Caileán and Luca, who are sitting on either side of him, touch him placatingly.

“Why?” The human grumbles.

---