One Salt Sea
Page 46
“We’re going to see my sons’ rooms. That means we need to get out of the water.” Dianda frowned thoughtfully. “Most of our children figure this out on their own. I’m going to try something that works with the ones who don’t. Close your eyes.”
“Okay.” I closed them.
Dianda’s hands closed on my shoulders. “Breathe in,” she said, the smell of water lilies and amber rising around us. “Think about walking. Think about the mechanics and the structure of walking. The feet, ankles, and calves. The knees, thighs, and hips. Think about how nice it would be to stand. How strange, to see the world from such a different angle . . .”
I furrowed my brow, trying to do as I was told. I remembered walking. I also remembered running for my life—something that seems to happen more frequently than is necessarily good for me. I remembered May tickling my feet to get me to move when she wanted the couch, and the feeling of getting dressed in the morning, jeans and socks and shoes. I remembered being the right shape, rather than the wrong one. My own magic rose, sharp, sweet, and familiar.
“You can open your eyes now.” Dianda pulled her hands away. “Also, you may want to get out of the water.”
“Huh?” The spell broke as I twisted to look at myself. It was easier than I expected; I’ve had years to practice rolling over in my natural form, and that’s what I was looking at. Complete with absolutely soaked jeans and running shoes. I blinked, once, and pulled myself out of the pool as fast as I could, just in case the Luidaeg’s charm decided to reassert itself in the presence of water.
I had to fight the urge to shake myself like a wet dog as I stood. The webbing was still stretched between my fingers—the Luidaeg’s charm was apparently designed to let me do all the normal Merrow things for the duration, including acquiring feet. That was convenient.
Dianda finished her own transformation and stood, the smell of amber and water lilies fading. She had also acquired clothes when she transformed, adding a short blue skirt to the blouse she was already wearing. Her feet were bare, and her clothes were dry. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a real Merrow, rather than a Merrow-wannabe on a day pass: you’re dry whenever you want to be.
“We can get you some dry clothes,” said Dianda, frowning at the puddle rapidly forming under me. Even her hair was dry. That was just not fair. Splashes in the pool behind us signaled the arrival of our Selkie honor guard. “Welcome to Saltmist.”
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” I said, looking unabashedly around the room as I peeled off my waterlogged leather jacket. “I admit, this isn’t exactly what I pictured when I thought ‘underwater Duchy.’ ”
“We’ve always had some air-filled areas, for the sake of the Selkies and other air-breathers among us. It’s a necessary part of our culture.” Dianda began walking, gesturing for me to follow. I glanced behind me, scanning the emerging Selkies for Connor. He smiled when he saw me looking. I smiled back before turning and walking quickly after Dianda.
The sound of my wet shoes slapping against the coral floor made us both grimace. I looked at Dianda apologetically. “Sorry.”
“Oddly, water damage isn’t a big issue down here.”
“No, I guess it wouldn’t be.” I looked around again. “It makes sense that you’d need some areas with air. I mean, we have freshwater fae on the land who need to spend a certain amount of their time in the water, or else they’d just dry up.”
“Exactly. No part of Faerie is ever completely independent from any other.” Dianda slanted a smile my way as Connor half-walked, half-trotted up to pull even with us. He was trying to look nonchalant about it. He was failing, rather spectacularly. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing, do you?”
“No. Not really.” The water dripping from my hair was running into my eyes. I wiped it away with one hand. “Can I get a towel to go with those clean clothes?”
“Absolutely. Connor?” Dianda looked past me to him. “Would you go tell Helmi that we have a guest in need of towels and clothing? Tell her the guest is female, and approximately my size, but should not be dressed in Ducal colors.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” said Connor, expression telegraphing exactly how much he did not want to run off and leave me alone with a bunch of unfamiliar sea fae. He made no move to go.
Disobeying your liege is a bad idea, even when you only do it by moving too slowly. I flashed him a smile, and said, “It’ll be so nice to be dry again. I’m seriously over this whole ‘wet’ thing.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, with utter sincerity, before turning and trotting toward a door to the left of the pool.
“This way,” said Dianda. She started walking faster, setting a pace that was hard for me to match in my dripping jeans and squelching shoes. “I assume you’d like to change before I show you their rooms?”
“You assume correctly. I mean, I probably can’t compromise anything by dripping on it, but . . .”
“But it’s better not to risk it,” said Patrick, emerging from an adjoining hall. “Hello, October. I’m pleased to see that you were able to arrange a visit.”
“Yeah, well. We can blame the Luidaeg for that one. Hello, Your Grace. I’d bow, but I think I’d fall on my ass if I tried it before I get some dry shoes on.”
“Entirely fair.” Patrick fell into step on Dianda’s other side. Neither of them broke stride as he laced his fingers with hers. “What do you think of our humble home so far?”
“It’s very . . . pink,” I said carefully.
Dianda laughed. “Why is that the first reaction of every lander that comes here?”
“Because it’s very pink,” said Patrick. He kissed her cheek before releasing her hand and moving to open the door ahead of us. “Ladies first.”
“So kind.” Dianda smiled at him fondly and stepped into the darkened chamber beyond. Lights flared to life in the chandelier overhead as soon as her foot crossed the threshold, and continued to spread around the edges of the room. By the time Patrick stepped through, closing the door behind him, the entire room was lit, and I was staring.
The walls were glass, broken only by coral doorframes, making the circular room feel like the world’s largest aquarium. Even the ceiling was transparent, a fact that was reinforced when a manta ray the size of a minivan floated serenely by above us. The ray was one of the more normal sea creatures in evidence. Impossible fish swam everywhere I looked. Sea dragons three times the size of the one in the Luidaeg’s room chased each other through a patch of kelp, while a herd of hippocampi grazed on a nearby reef under the watchful eye of a black-and-white mermaid who appeared to be the result of crossing a Tuatha de Dannan with a killer whale.
“Okay.” I closed them.
Dianda’s hands closed on my shoulders. “Breathe in,” she said, the smell of water lilies and amber rising around us. “Think about walking. Think about the mechanics and the structure of walking. The feet, ankles, and calves. The knees, thighs, and hips. Think about how nice it would be to stand. How strange, to see the world from such a different angle . . .”
I furrowed my brow, trying to do as I was told. I remembered walking. I also remembered running for my life—something that seems to happen more frequently than is necessarily good for me. I remembered May tickling my feet to get me to move when she wanted the couch, and the feeling of getting dressed in the morning, jeans and socks and shoes. I remembered being the right shape, rather than the wrong one. My own magic rose, sharp, sweet, and familiar.
“You can open your eyes now.” Dianda pulled her hands away. “Also, you may want to get out of the water.”
“Huh?” The spell broke as I twisted to look at myself. It was easier than I expected; I’ve had years to practice rolling over in my natural form, and that’s what I was looking at. Complete with absolutely soaked jeans and running shoes. I blinked, once, and pulled myself out of the pool as fast as I could, just in case the Luidaeg’s charm decided to reassert itself in the presence of water.
I had to fight the urge to shake myself like a wet dog as I stood. The webbing was still stretched between my fingers—the Luidaeg’s charm was apparently designed to let me do all the normal Merrow things for the duration, including acquiring feet. That was convenient.
Dianda finished her own transformation and stood, the smell of amber and water lilies fading. She had also acquired clothes when she transformed, adding a short blue skirt to the blouse she was already wearing. Her feet were bare, and her clothes were dry. I guess that’s one of the perks of being a real Merrow, rather than a Merrow-wannabe on a day pass: you’re dry whenever you want to be.
“We can get you some dry clothes,” said Dianda, frowning at the puddle rapidly forming under me. Even her hair was dry. That was just not fair. Splashes in the pool behind us signaled the arrival of our Selkie honor guard. “Welcome to Saltmist.”
“Love what you’ve done with the place,” I said, looking unabashedly around the room as I peeled off my waterlogged leather jacket. “I admit, this isn’t exactly what I pictured when I thought ‘underwater Duchy.’ ”
“We’ve always had some air-filled areas, for the sake of the Selkies and other air-breathers among us. It’s a necessary part of our culture.” Dianda began walking, gesturing for me to follow. I glanced behind me, scanning the emerging Selkies for Connor. He smiled when he saw me looking. I smiled back before turning and walking quickly after Dianda.
The sound of my wet shoes slapping against the coral floor made us both grimace. I looked at Dianda apologetically. “Sorry.”
“Oddly, water damage isn’t a big issue down here.”
“No, I guess it wouldn’t be.” I looked around again. “It makes sense that you’d need some areas with air. I mean, we have freshwater fae on the land who need to spend a certain amount of their time in the water, or else they’d just dry up.”
“Exactly. No part of Faerie is ever completely independent from any other.” Dianda slanted a smile my way as Connor half-walked, half-trotted up to pull even with us. He was trying to look nonchalant about it. He was failing, rather spectacularly. “But I don’t think that’s a bad thing, do you?”
“No. Not really.” The water dripping from my hair was running into my eyes. I wiped it away with one hand. “Can I get a towel to go with those clean clothes?”
“Absolutely. Connor?” Dianda looked past me to him. “Would you go tell Helmi that we have a guest in need of towels and clothing? Tell her the guest is female, and approximately my size, but should not be dressed in Ducal colors.”
“Yes, Your Grace,” said Connor, expression telegraphing exactly how much he did not want to run off and leave me alone with a bunch of unfamiliar sea fae. He made no move to go.
Disobeying your liege is a bad idea, even when you only do it by moving too slowly. I flashed him a smile, and said, “It’ll be so nice to be dry again. I’m seriously over this whole ‘wet’ thing.”
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he said, with utter sincerity, before turning and trotting toward a door to the left of the pool.
“This way,” said Dianda. She started walking faster, setting a pace that was hard for me to match in my dripping jeans and squelching shoes. “I assume you’d like to change before I show you their rooms?”
“You assume correctly. I mean, I probably can’t compromise anything by dripping on it, but . . .”
“But it’s better not to risk it,” said Patrick, emerging from an adjoining hall. “Hello, October. I’m pleased to see that you were able to arrange a visit.”
“Yeah, well. We can blame the Luidaeg for that one. Hello, Your Grace. I’d bow, but I think I’d fall on my ass if I tried it before I get some dry shoes on.”
“Entirely fair.” Patrick fell into step on Dianda’s other side. Neither of them broke stride as he laced his fingers with hers. “What do you think of our humble home so far?”
“It’s very . . . pink,” I said carefully.
Dianda laughed. “Why is that the first reaction of every lander that comes here?”
“Because it’s very pink,” said Patrick. He kissed her cheek before releasing her hand and moving to open the door ahead of us. “Ladies first.”
“So kind.” Dianda smiled at him fondly and stepped into the darkened chamber beyond. Lights flared to life in the chandelier overhead as soon as her foot crossed the threshold, and continued to spread around the edges of the room. By the time Patrick stepped through, closing the door behind him, the entire room was lit, and I was staring.
The walls were glass, broken only by coral doorframes, making the circular room feel like the world’s largest aquarium. Even the ceiling was transparent, a fact that was reinforced when a manta ray the size of a minivan floated serenely by above us. The ray was one of the more normal sea creatures in evidence. Impossible fish swam everywhere I looked. Sea dragons three times the size of the one in the Luidaeg’s room chased each other through a patch of kelp, while a herd of hippocampi grazed on a nearby reef under the watchful eye of a black-and-white mermaid who appeared to be the result of crossing a Tuatha de Dannan with a killer whale.
