Page 73 of Across an Endless Sea

Maeve returns before Mab does, but she doesn’t give me advice or direct me. Titania says something to her, but the brash warrior brushes it off before taking a swan dive into the lake.

She resurfaces a second later, swimming circles around me with a smirk, then she mocks splashing me, even though she can’t physically touch the water.

I roll my eyes and splash her back, grateful for the moment of levity as the water sparkles through her translucent form. Maeve pulls a faux-shocked expression, then mimes splashing Titania with even more force.

It can’t last, of course. Mab returns a few minutes later. Maeve leaves the lake to join their huddle above me, and the three of them forget about me as they discuss whatever they’ve seen. I try to read their lips, but they’re speaking too fast, and their outlines are too faint to see with clarity in the gloom.

Their meeting only lasts for a minute at most, and then they turn back to me. Mab raises her hand and points to my left, in the direction I’ve been drifting. Then she flies closer, frowns, and holds a hand out for caution, mouthing something else.

“Be careful?” I guess.

She nods, her face sombre, as Maeve leads the way in the direction she indicated. Their subtle glow is the only real thing I can see now that we’re away from the waterfall and the mushrooms that grew beside it. I may as well be swimming in total darkness.

I keep going for what seems like ages and still I can’t see a wall. A beach. Anything. I’m only getting colder and more exhausted, but I trust Mab’s judgement, so I push through. My guides are patient, keeping their pace slow and giving me encouraging glances, but still, it’s beginning to feel hopeless by the time a different glow finally reaches my eyes.

The glow grows brighter as I draw closer, until I can make out more bitterblues above a muddy beach. My knee bumps the soft silt on my next kick, and I lower my arms, pushing up to a wobbly crouch.

My body tries to sink into the mud, and I grimace at the sucking sound when I yank my foot free. That’s all the warning I need to hasten up the bank until I’m on drier, rockier ground. Safe at last, I push to my feet and take in my surroundings.

Only to stifle a screech as I look up and come face to face with the dead, sightless eyes of the Fomorian who was pushed down here yesterday.

I take an unsteady step back, only to slip on the wet rocks. Righting myself, I take another breath of muggy air, and examine her closer. She’s upside down, hanging from a rope in the ceiling that’s caught around her ankle. Her throat has been slit, and her blood has dripped over her face, turning her short white hair dark.

Who did this? Certainly not tunnel wyrms?

Unless they have the ability to construct intricate snares…

Mab waves me past her, towards a crack in the rock, then motions me to halt and mimes throwing something down the tunnel.

Right. There could be more traps.

I cast around, easily finding a good size stone, then, after peeking around the wall of the cave, lob it with all my strength.

It clatters to the floor, and a second later, a metal bolt flies out of the shadowy tunnel, soaring over the lake before it finally lands with a splash.

If I’d been standing in the middle of the passage rather than peering down it from the side, I’d probably be dead.

Which begs the question, if the tunnel wyrms in the Deep Caves are so deadly that people don’t survive a year, why has someone gone to the trouble of setting traps at the entrance?

Surely the Fomorians sent down here would die eventually anyway, so why kill them at the doorstep?

Putting aside my questions, I squint down the passageway again. Do I really want to investigate what’s down there?

Well, I can’t really stay here beside this gloomy underground lake and a dead Fomorian, waiting for the murderer to come back.

What if Elatha sends someone after me? I can imagine him forcing his people to come down here if he thinks he can recapture me and force me to mate him.

My gut roils at the thought of being kept prisoner until my fever, then assaulted until I gave Elatha a little baby to corrupt and use… And with the low fae fertility, there’s no guarantee I’d become pregnant the first time. A life stuck in a cell, waiting for the day I fulfil my role as broodmare would be a living hell.

No. I’d rather die over and over than let that happen.

Furious indignation rises all over again at Caed’s complete inaction.

He was just going to let that happen to me. Let his father hurt, degrade, and use me without so much as a half-arsed objection.

Damn it. I can’t believe I actually thought that after last night and all the time we’ve spent together… Urgh, I was just being stupidly hopeful again. My plan failed. I thought maybe I could convince Caed that his father is evil. Turns out he already knew. He just doesn’t care.

I’m stalling. Maeve walks into the tunnel, giving me a head shake and gesturing me forwards. Mab and Titania follow after her, all of them checking the walls, the floors, and even the ceilings, for more traps.

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