Page 95 of Cathmoir's Sons

“Yeah, fair.”

“How do you plan to get to Ceòfuar?” Evan asks.

“The Water portal we came through? I should be able to redirect us to Ceòfuar through the All-Water.”

Evan grunts. “Neat trick. I might claim that as my price for mentoring that asshole, Carver. Teach me how to Walk the All-Water.”

That’s a small price.

“Deal,” I say.

After Evan glad-hands around the room, causing a hilarious flurry of consternation among the green-cloaks going after Ulune’s Daughter as they try to hide what they’re working on, Evan leads me back down through the Guild to his suite where he has a private Water portal.

In his rooms, we’re greeted by Notch, Evan’s assistant-cum-valet, who I would give anything not to think of as Mr. Tumnus, but it’s hopeless after Kellan admitted she thinks of him the same way. Notch follows Evan through the rooms, somehow deftly changing Evan out of his sweater and into a waistcoat, suit jacket, and his green cloak, while covering a dozen important pieces of business ranging from Evan’s next meeting with the Nine Rivers to a proposal before the human Heritage Trust for repairs to Jedburgh Abbey. As we reach the huge, shimmering porthole that looks out into the murky waters of the Thames River, Notch steps back and says his goodbyes.

“Justiciar-in-Training Hale, it is always a pleasure to see you,” Notch says, bowing his horned head.

I offer him my hand, which he shakes. “Good to see you, too, Notch.”

“Please give my best to your queen and the Cait.”

“I will,” I promise.

He bows again and retreats, folding Evan’s sweater over his arm.

I hold my hand out to Evan. When he takes it, I fold him into my magic. Although we have our Element in common, sharing power with another magi requires trust. I’ve tried to Work with other Water mages who made it about as easy as walking upstream against a flash flood. Not Evan. His magic flows into mine with barely a ripple.

I reach out with my other hand and slip it into the portal. The cool caress of my Element envelops my hand. I feed the connection to Evan, who hums with the pleasure every mage feels when in contact with their Element.

“Focus on the surface of the Water,” I tell Evan, starting to walk him into the deep magic. It’s much easier than when Kellan showed me, since my Element doesn’t share much sympathy with hers. “Reach past the surface with your mind. Let yourself sink to the bottom. What do you feel?”

“Thick,” Evan says, his voice dropping. “Slow.”

“Mmm-hmm,” I agree. “Go deeper. Feel the beat under the mud. The flow of the Mother’s blood.”

Evan’s breathing deepens. His magic swirls and eddies around mine. I pull him gently into the Mother’s Great Aquifer. The waters that feed the Earth’s heart. The All-Water.

Evan gasps. “I feel it.”

“Step forward,” I encourage him, drawing him alongside me as I walk into the portal.

The All-Water closes around us like Luca’s arms, warm and welcoming but with steely strength. Once we’re in, the hard part begins: navigating the water that touches every shore.

I feed my impressions to Evan. I’ve always navigated by taste. Faery’s waters have a mineral edge, an effervescence like sparkling water. Thistlemist is softer, flavored with heather and nettle. Ivywhile carries the perfume of good tea.

Ceòfuar is pure hot copper.

I draw Evan with me as I follow the trail of blood on the water. My magical body grows sleek and finned, drawing that enticing taste across flexing gills. I swish into the strongest current and arrow toward the source.

We step out on the banks of the river that runs through Caileán’s lands, with the tower of Ceòfuar gleaming in the distance against a storm-dark sky.

Evan draws his hand out of mine. His skin is slick. I glance down and see red smears across my palm. Evan flexes his hand, his torn skin knitting as I watch.

“Were you aware you transformed into a shark?” he asks me.

I shake my head.

“Your magic doesn’t feel quite the same as mine, but I think I could find my way to the All-Water again. I’m not sure how you figured out where to go, though.”

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