One Salt Sea
Page 44

“Well,” I said, “that’s different.”
Dianda raised her eyebrows. “You’re fairly calm.”
“I don’t think I have a choice just now.” I felt better for knowing what was going on, even if the Luidaeg and I were going to have stern words later about her turning me halfway back into a fish without more in the way of an explicit warning. “I’m sorry about the whole, um, riding thing. It seemed like a good idea at the time.”
“Don’t worry about it.” Dianda waved a hand. “I saw them shooting at us. Still, if you ever do something like that again without telling me first, I’m not calling off my archers.”
“Noted.” I gave the circle of Selkies another look. I didn’t recognize any of them, but a few looked similar enough to Connor that they might have been family. “So now what?”
“Now I take you to see my Duchy. If you can find my sons and prove the land Courts didn’t do this, maybe I’ll call off the war. No promises. And if I find out you’ve played me . . .”
“If I were playing you, I’d have toes right now.” Footsteps came pounding down the dock. One of the Selkies turned, starting to raise her bow, and stopped, lowering it again. I allowed myself a small smile. “I think I hear my knights in shining armor.”
“Make that singular,” she said, relaxing. “One of them is mine.”
The footsteps were joined by a second set, and the sound of panting. “You need to work out more,” said Quentin, as the top of his head came into view.
“Hey, guys.” I waved, turning to face them.
Connor staggered to a stop, bracing his hands on his knees as he struggled to breathe. “Hello, Your Grace,” he wheezed, toward Dianda, before looking anxiously in my direction. He knows how much I hate water. “Toby”
“Hello, Connor.” Dianda twisted her tail around one of the dock supports like a sea horse, letting it anchor her as she leaned back in the water. It made sense; given the way the water moved, Merrow had to have a way to keep from drifting. I never really thought about it before, and now I was taking notes. “I take it you’re both unhurt?”
“Yes, Your Grace.” His worried eyes didn’t leave my face. “We came when we heard the shouting, but—”
“You couldn’t have helped,” I said, swimming over to join Dianda. Quentin stepped up next to him and gasped. My fins must have shown through the water. So much for breaking the news gently. “Hey, Quentin. How was the fish?”
He swallowed hard, composing himself before he said, “You’re in the water.”
“Yes. Gravity made sure of that.”
“And you have . . .”
“Fins. You can blame the Luidaeg for that part.” Movie mermaids are always slapping their tails against the water to make a point, or just to show off how much of the special effects budget went into designing them. I would have done it, but I couldn’t think of how to start without con-cussing myself on the dock in the process. “I’m going to visit Saltmist now. Since I’m pretty sure I’d be a little awkward on land at the moment.”
Connor’s eyes went wide as he finally caught up with current events. “Wait . . . you mean you . . . ?”
“I am going to need an uncountable number of cups of coffee when this is over,” I replied, and turned to Quentin. “Call Danny. Tell him you need a ride back to the apartment. I’d take you with me, but I’m pretty sure it wouldn’t work.”
“I understand,” he said. “Do I need to stay at the apartment?”
“Not if you find something better to do—visit the Luidaeg, go help Walther, whatever. Just make sure someone knows where you are, so I can find you when I get back. And make sure Danny comes inside—May has a job for him.”
“Okay.” Quentin took a step back, looking anxious. “Please don’t get killed?”
“I’ll do my best.”
“This is lovely, but my children are still missing.” Dianda pushed away from the dock, flukes unfurling in a swirl of green and purple. “Connor, come on. I’ll need you to help show our guest around the knowe.”
“Um. Right,” said Connor, and dove, fully clothed, off the dock.
That made me think of something I hadn’t thought of until that moment: “Hey, what the hell happened to my pants?”
“Among many other excellent questions,” said Dianda. She offered me her hand. “Come along. I’ll pull you.”
“I appreciate it,” I said. I couldn’t figure out how to take her hand without crushing the webbing between her fingers—or between my own—and so I grabbed her wrist, holding tight.
“Don’t hold your breath,” she advised, and pulled me under.
The strange lightness under the waves remained, making it almost easier to see below than it had been above. Dianda’s scales cast their own faint, luminous glow. Even if she hadn’t been pulling me, I wouldn’t have lost sight of her. Smiling encouragingly, she tugged me forward, away from the dock, into the open sea.
Splashes from behind us signaled the remaining Selkie archers entering the water. In a matter of seconds, the sea was alive with harbor seals, their silver-and-charcoal coats turning them into virtual ghosts. I couldn’t pick Connor out of the throng. I’ve seen him in seal form dozens, if not hundreds of times, but all the swimming Selkies looked alike to me. Anyway, I was preoccupied by the effort of keeping up with Dianda, something that got harder when I tried to think about what I was doing. It was like my body knew how to swim, but my brain complicated everything by insisting I was doing it wrong.
Thinking too much also had the unpleasant side effect of making me realize that I wasn’t actually breathing. Gills just aren’t the same. Finally, I stopped thinking and let myself go, trusting Dianda to get us where we were going. Things got better after that.
I’m no oceanographer, but I know enough to know that it’s supposed to get darker as you go deeper. That wasn’t happening here. Instead, we swam through a series of small temperature changes, wafting, diffuse things that would signify the transition between the mortal and fae worlds if they appeared in a land knowe. The fish swimming by got flashier, all bright colors and flamboyant patterns of the sort I usually only saw on the Discovery Channel. The Selkies wove a complicated pattern around us, acting as escort and guard. And in the middle of it all swam Dianda, cutting through the water with me firmly in tow.