Page 44 of Luca

Though the primal chase would have been up there in second place.

I glanced over the sparkling blue waters, regarding the mythical creatures I’d hoped weren’t a figment of my imagination since I was a child. I’d read about their existence back at the palace, but having them in front of me, living proof that they weren’t just sketches on old paper, had giddiness welling inside me that was difficult to stifle.

There was a small group frolicking at the far side of the pool, splashing one another and laughing as if they hadn’t a care in the world. Others were braiding their hair or gliding under the surface of the water, nothing but blurred shadows, before leaping into the air and flipping on the descent. It was impressive, the strength in their glistening tails making it seem so effortless. They were all so wonderfully unique, their tails a range of sizes, shapes, and colors. No two were exactly the same. Even if their scales matched in shade, their fins took on a different pattern. The only discerning features they shared were cloudy eyes, the gills on their necks and ribs, and the fin-like ears that twitched with every little sound.

They were technically humanoid from the hips up, but distinct enough that they were unmistakably supernatural. They had a severe edge about them, a sort of haunting beauty that was almost magnetic. My gaze caught on the merman draped across the nearest rock, basking in the hot sun, his tail a shimmering gold. He turned his head, pale eyes locking on mine under a fan of fluttering white lashes, and I went rigid. A smirk graced his lips before he rolled fluidly onto his front, cascades of ivory hair sliding over his muscular back and shoulders. He flicked his tail, his ears flaring in what seemed like a flirty gesture.

Then, he winked.

My face heated, and with a jolt, I unfroze, taking a fumbling step back out of view.

“Shit, I’m being weird, right? Peeking through the trees, watching pretty men and women bathe?” I winced, having answered my own question. “I was just fascinated, but I didn’t mean to be gross.”

“The tranquility pools are their habitat. They could ward the area completely, keep it to themselves, but instead they permit access to visitors for the sole purpose of being admired,” Cair explained, smoothing a hand over my lower back. “As long as you are respectful and do not act on any depraved thoughts—unless consent is given, of course—they bask in the attention. They are creatures of love, passion, and beauty. It pleases them to draw out fascination and lust in others, and their appreciation.”

I sighed with relief. “Well, thank Christ for that ’cause poor Gary seems to be even more bewitched than me.”

The dude had stumbled over his feet as soon as he ambled through the tree line, his jaw practically dragging on the floor—his tongue too, to be honest. Cee snapped her fingers in front of his face, breaking his concentration, which he clearly found offensive as he gestured toward the merfolk mouthing an enthusiastic“Are you seeing this?”before pretending to swoon against his companion.

He landed on the ground in a disgruntled heap when Cee took a deliberate sidestep.

I snorted before turning back to Cair. “Tranquilitypools, you said? So there are more?”

“Yes, there are many. They are mostly hidden,protected, so that only those genuinely seeking their benefits can find them.”

“Merfolk live in all of them?”

He nodded. “There are caves far beneath the waters, an entire ecosystem. They only surface for the sunlight, and to socialize with land creatures.”

I had no way of knowing what the world beneath our feet looked like, but if it was anything similar to what was up above, then it had to be beautiful. The water itself was so blue and twinkly that it seemed photoshopped, and the grass was a shade of green you’d see in an advert for paradise. There were stacks of rocks along the bank, and a waterfall that flowed so gently it sounded like a rain shower. It was serene, and it only dawned on me then that I couldn’t even remember what stress felt like.

I had struggled a little on the way here, still on edge after the reaper attack. An incessant veil of tiredness had made every step feel like a chore, but just standing here, breathing the air in this quaint bubble of nature, I feltbetter. I could actually appreciate the near-silent rustle of the leaves above me and the cozy warmth of the sun beating down on my skin without it all being drowned out by the chaos in my head.

“This place is…” I paused, chewing over the right words. “I feel a sense of stillness like I’ve never known before. My head is quiet for the first time in God knows how long. I’m sleepy, but in a relaxed sort of way, instead of weariness. It’s… bizarre.”

“It’s the water. It has magical properties,” he said. “It calms you, evokes happiness, and makes you forget whatever worries or woes plague you.”

“A natural antidepressant? Nice.”

Cair hummed in agreement. “It’s certainly the perfect place if you find yourself in need of recovery, but only for a short duration. If you stay too long, like any drug, you will become addicted, and you’ll never leave.”

“Yeah, you might have to carry me out of here, ’cause at this moment in time, never leaving sounds like the best plan ever.”

“Take whatever time you need.” Cair laughed, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Enjoy yourself.”

That was all the encouragement I needed. I set my pack in the shade under a tree before wandering down to the water’s edge. There were other creatures—orcs, goblins, and a few catlike hybrids, from what I could see—but it wasn’t busy, and no one really paid me any heed.

I shimmied out of my shoes and pants, leaving my shirt on but unclipping the harness Cee had given me to store Ivar’s dagger from around my waist—a safety precaution Cair had suggested for my own peace of mind. I lowered myself into the pool, sighing happily. It was cooler than I’d expected, but a welcome relief from the scorching sun. I stayed next to the bank, just hovering and enjoying that weightless feeling, watching others swim past, nodding in greeting.

I stayed there long enough for my fingers to prune, and when I eventually hauled myself out, I didn’t bother peeling off my soaked shirt—something I wouldn’t have entertained before, since wrinkly skin was gross and wet clothes were even worse, but neither seemed to even faze me now. Those pools really were a form of witchcraft. I was content knowing they would dry in the heat, so all there was left for me to do was pick a vacant spot with a little shade, let my feet dangle into the water, and justobserve.

Cee had propped herself against a tree at the far edge of the meadow. She looked alert to her surroundings, but the odd flick of her amber eyes toward the pools suggested she wasn’t totally immune to the merfolk’s charms. She was still a bit of an enigma to me, hard to crack, but she was devoted to her duty, and I respected that. I’d learned she was an alseid, a grove nymph, and that piece of information had only served to puzzle me further. The nymphs I’d read about were jovial creatures, sometimes shy—depending on the species—but were often found playing in nature and generally being happy and quirky.

Cee was not like that.

Though I had noticed an affinity for nature and that she regarded animals and flora with more warmth and interest than people, she was also reserved. She didn’t engage in what she deemed unnecessary conversation, and I always got the sense that she had her own motivations for being here besides protecting Cair. She would vaguely tease or smirk, but she never smiled, and her glares could be cutting.

I’d long since learned not to judge a race solely based on what I’d read. Even those in the palace archives only gave a general idea of a species’ characteristics, but they weren’t one size fits all. There were factors to consider: upbringing, experiences, trauma. It was obvious there was a story behind her joining the Shades, but until she felt like sharing, it was none of my business.

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