Page 99 of Across an Endless Sea

The púca stole my Rose.

I hadplans, and he still snuck her out to play. Granted, I suppose he had no way of knowing I had plans, butstill.It’s just rude. Now it’s just me and the puppy—who keeps falling asleep. What good is he if he keeps taking naps?

Jaro tried to tell me I was wearing him out by blinking the ball all over the palace and making him find it, but Wraith loves the hunt! And so what if leaving a ball of rotting Fomorian flesh lying around freaked out some of the servants? It had to be smelly, so he’d chase it.

At least the wolf shifter is in bed now, sleeping the day away and conveniently absent as I prepare to teach Wraith his most important tricks.

“See her?” I point at the fat, hulking Fomorian with her belly over hanging her bone-strewn belt. “That’s dinner.”

I’ve blinked us to an occupied section of the outer city for just this. What use is a barghest if it can’t eat souls and protect Rose? Thankfully, Wraith is a smart, smart puppy. His ears are already flat against his skull.

“If it’s blue, you can chew!” I sing-song. “Remember, teeth go in here—” I point at my chest. “Then do your thing!”

I really hope soul sucking is instinctive. Unfortunately, I can’t demonstrate. If I could, I’d be the most feared redcap in the realm.

Wraith looks at me, then back at the Fomorian. “Dinner,” I say.

That gets through to him. Maybe because I say the word whenever I present him with food normally? Hey, this training thing is easier than it sounds.

Wraith springs out from behind the cart where we’ve been crouching. He covers the small farmyard in three bounds—big puppy—and bowls over the lone Fomorian picking through the spoils of conquest. The barghest lands on her chest, then stops, looking back.

“Munch!” I repeat, waving my hands. “Eat! Dinner!”

The Fomorian—apparently just realising what I’m trying to encourage the fluffy white beastie to do—squirms, letting out a squeal that definitely doesn’t help.

The noise brings some predatory instinct to the surface, and Wraith lunges, wrapping his jaws around her chest and… inhaling?

Huh. That’s weird—and kind of disappointing. I figured there would be more blood involved in soul eating. Guess I’ll have to slit her throat when he’s done. Got to keep my hat topped up. I shudder as the memory of it being almost pink smacks me again. I will never live down the shame.

Wraith steps away, licking a weird, misty substance from around his mouth, and looks at me, tail wagging. The Fomorian’s eyes are open, staring sightlessly at the sky, but her chest is still rising and falling.

Oh, so you can lose your soul and still live? Interesting!

“Goodboy!” I croon, getting close, and slashing into her throat before running my hat through the fountain of scarlet erupting from the wound. “Want to get another?”

In answer, the barghest rips the arm from the corpse and drops it at my feet, then rolls over onto his back, tail thumping at the ground. His red eyes stare at me, mouth lolling open to display those wicked sharp teeth, and I grin, showing him my own fangs.

I pick up the limb and throw it with all my strength. “Fetch!”

Wraith takes off after it, yipping with excitement, and I grin as he catches it mid-air in a powerful bound, turns on his heel, and returns to me. When he drops it at my feet again, I don’t pick it up.

“Now isn’t playtime,” I remind him. “We’re learning to protect Rose, remember?”

He yips again, and we return to the merry business of soul munching.

By the time we return to the palace, Wraith’s fur is stained the same beautiful red as my cap, and his soft steps are lethargic from the number of Fomorians he’s snacked on. Unfortunately, it appears the rest of the palace doesn’t appreciate my great barghest training prowess. Drystan, in particular, is in fine, grumpy form as he stomps towards us, glowering.

“What in the Goddess’s name have you been doing?” he demands, crossing his arms as he reaches the pair of us “If you’ve injured Rose’s pet…” He grimaces, as if he can’t believe he’s calling Wraith a pet.

I also have trouble believing the genius of our little mate. No queen in history has had such a magnificent companion. Already Wraith is the size of a small pony. Soon, he’ll be full grown and able to carry Rose.

Wraith—who’s developing the cutest penchant for collecting body parts—drops the blue foot he’s carrying at Drystan’s feet and wags his tail.

“He likes fetch.” I shrug. “You should try playing with him some time. It might loosen the stick up your ass.” I pause, then grin as a new idea hits me. “Since you’re jealous of the quality time we’ve been spending together, I’ll let you give him a bath!”

Then, before he can stop me, I blink away to my room.

Unfortunately, I don’t think Rose will approve of all the blood that accompanies playing fetch with her puppy, so I wash and change before I blink up to her garden. I even brush my hair—okay, so I used my fingers, but it still counts!

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