Page 10 of Across an Endless Sea

I raise my hand so she can see the perfectly healed skin of my palm and Rose’s mark clearly emblazoned across it.

“Come on, you know you have to tell me more than that.” My cousin’s good eye gleams, and I know I’ve triggered her insatiable curiosity. “Not conventional, how?”

I shake my head, quietly admitting, “I think I saw… Danu?”

The fae Goddess isreal. I mean, I knew in theory that she was, butwitnessingher speak through Rose was something else entirely. Unfortunately, I don’t know enough about fae gifts to determine if the female who appeared beside Rose was Danu or someone else.

“It was some kind of possession, I think,” I finish, lamely. “But she was beside Rose and talking through her at the same time…”

“Whatever you saw, this Nicnevin is clearly powerful enough to heal scars which are decades old,” Prae remarks, glancing at Rose’s slumped form with a new kind of curiosity. “Even untrained, if we trigger her magic, we’re done for.” She glances at my hand again, and a thoughtful look crosses over her face. “Find something to cover that up, or Elatha will burn it off all over again. I’ve got an idea for some cuffs…”

“She’s not violent,” I protest, but the excuse sounds hollow, even to my own ears.

That much was obvious from the first time I met her. Her horror at the blood she was covered in was almost comical. She never fought alongside her Guard, and the degree to which they sheltered her was ridiculous.

“From what I picked up in her dungeon, she can’t even fly,” I say. “Fuck. I hate to say it, but she seemed… innocent.”

Not a word I ever thought I’d use for a fae.

Prae scowls. “We can discuss that back at camp,afteryou put these on her.”

She tugs two of her own bangles from her wrist and throws them back to me one at a time before turning to her own bag and rummaging around in it. I leave her to her search and examine the thin bands of metal. The main band is silver—harmless to a fae—but there’s a darker ring of decorative iron set into the middle.

Cuffs that will weaken Rose, but not burn her delicate skin. They’re not too dissimilar to what we use on the slaves—although those tend to be mainly bronze or tin.

I slip them over her hands, pretending not to notice as Rose’s sleeping expression turns into a frown and the Call grows a little quieter in my chest. Prae finally finds what she was looking for—a small stoppered vial of something green and fizzing—and chucks it to me.

“Two drips on each. Don’t get it on her skin.”

It’s fucking awkward, but I do as she asks. Unstopping the vial, before stretching out Rose’s arm and tipping the smallest drop of the green ooze onto the metal. The band warps where the gel touches it, becoming pliable, which allows me to pinch the bangles tight around Rose’s wrists.

My cousin watches like a hawk, with her head craned to make sure I’m doing it right. Once the bangles are the right size, I return her weird concoction and watch as the remaining green residue evaporates into grey smoke.

I test them with my finger. The bracelets are tight enough Rose has no hope of getting them off by herself, but there’s just enough room to tie a rope between them—if it comes to that.

“I’ve got enough bangles for her ankles if those aren’t effective enough,” Prae adds, turning back around and mounting her drake, then urging it north. “We might have to coat the iron strip in something to avoid accidents, but we’ll see what happens when she wakes up.”

I swing up behind Rose and urge the drake forwards, following my cousin. I have no idea how Rose will react to losing her magic, but I have a feeling it won’t be easy on her.

Four

Rhoswyn

I’m groggy, and it takes me several seconds to process the sensation of rocking, the feeling of damp air rushing past my face, and the sensation of a hard body behind mine, keeping me in place.

My companion is warm, but my wings are aching—crushed under heavy fabric—and the buzzing contact between us isn’t helping. I slump forward a little, trying to separate us.

It works—kind of—but it also brings to my attention the fact that I’m very naked beneath the oversized coat I’m wearing.

What happened? Where are my clothes?

“You need to decide what your plan is,” a low, feminine voice says, and the body behind me tenses in answer.

“Plan?” The male’s voice is familiar, and I wish I could think clearly enough to place it. “The plan is to follow orders.”

“Right…” His companion doesn’t seem convinced.

He only grows tenser, and his voice becomes more aggravated as he demands, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

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