Trapped By Claws (Of Seas and Tides)

8. Not a Fae Palace

The freezing temperature drove the breath from my lungs as soon as we plunged under.

I clung to him now, clinging to him despite my pride. Even though I squeezed my eyelids shut, the saltwater stung my eyes and filled my nostrils and mouth.

Corvin held me fast. He swam a short ways before we emerged beneath a rocky overhang where the waters were not so rough and the rain did not reach us. Thunder cracked, and lightning flared again. "Easy there," he said, wiping the water from my face.

I coughed and spluttered as I gulped in a deep breath of fresh air. "This is it?" It was so cold. I just wanted to get out of the water.

He shook his head. "Sorry, darling. Just taking a breather. Seas are rough during storms, and you can't make it to my home on one breath."

My teeth chattered. "How far?"

"Nothing for you to worry about. Just take more deep breaths. I promise I won't let you drown. You did well." His hand brushed my hair back behind my ears, his voice more concerned than stern now. "But this is the really hard part, all right?"

I barely had time to nod and take another deep gulp of air before he pulled me tight against his chest and dove down once more.

The cold stabbed into my skin. All thoughts of dignity faded as I held onto him. The powerful currents tugged around me. He seemed to navigate them with ease, sliding and ducking and moving along some course I couldn't see. Each time we resurfaced, the storm had lessened. And at last, he dove straight down with me in his arms.

Down we went.

Down.

Down.

The pressure intensified, my ears popping and my head spinning. The rushing gargle and roar of it all filled me.

It stung my eyes too much to dare more than a tiny, blurry glimpse into the darkness of the sea.

There was nothing.

My lungs burned, aching and near to bursting. I clutched at his shoulder, wriggling. He knew I needed air. He'd taken me up to breathe before. Had he forgotten?

Please.

Air.

I needed air!

Then—just when I felt I couldn't take it anymore—Corvin propelled us upward, and we emerged.

With a gasp and sputter, I started choking in as much air I could manage. Half were full of seawater, making me gag. My throat and nose burned, the water streaking through my eyes. It was dark here. And cold.

Oh, I hated the cold.

Corvin pressed the hair back from my face as I hacked. "Almost there." He looked concerned as he studied me.

There were a thousand things I wanted to say to him. Complaints, pleas, observations. All I could get out was the coughing.

The horrid, horrid coughing as I struggled to get a clear breath.My stomach clenched and cramped.

"Easy there. Just breathe, clever girl." He lifted me out of the water and set me on my feet.

My knees gave way. I lurched forward, throwing up salt and bile.

Pale-blue light flared, revealing a dark-walled cave.

Through tear-streaked eyes, I struggled to take in my surroundings.

First thing was his expression: his creased forehead, arched eyebrows, and pinched mouth.

This wasn't going the way he'd expected.

He crouched beside me, a pale-blue orb in his hand, his claws curled around it. The orb cast eerie, claw-like shadows across the wall. "Let's get you inside. Can you walk?"

I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. More coughs shuddered through my body. Glaring at him blearily, I pushed myself up. "I can."

I cast my gaze around the cave, noting that while the cave itself was small, there was a large, heavy door with dull iron bands set into the wall a little behind us.

He moved to help me stand, but I pushed him away with a ragged huff. "I don't need your help." The words rasped from my throat before I succumbed to another shaking cough.

Somehow he was already dry, his hair once more full and soft, while I was fairly certain I looked like a wrung out, half-drowned rat.

His eyebrow lifted more. It seemed he had not expected my refusal. But he crossed to the door. With one claw, he traced a symbol on the metal of the band. It glowed bright yellow, then the door creaked open.

He glanced back at me, his expression now masked and hard. Then he strode through the door, expecting me to follow.

Part of me wanted to tell him that I'd fulfilled my part of the bargain now. I'd come to his home.

But I wasn't in any condition to run. And I had no idea how to escape yet. That swim would kill me if I tried it on my own.

The water was black as ink and still as a mirror. I hugged myself as the seawater dripped from my hair and clothes, forming puddles across the stone. Even breathing hurt.

He waited for me beyond the doorway with a small waterskin. "Here. Drink this."

"What is it?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"A kind of tonic and water. For the throat."

I was a little surprised that he had that, but I accepted it and took a long drink. The bitter flavor flooded my mouth, but the relief was almost immediate. I drank deeply, muscles aching.

As I did, he circled out into the room and started lighting additional pale-blue orbs by tapping his orb to each one. The chamber had been outfitted with the scraps of numerous wrecks. Shelves and shelves of random items as well as scrapped bits of furniture made it seem like a chaotic storeroom that someone was living in. Very little was present in the way of fabrics. All of the wood was water-stained. The books that were present had all been soaked and dried, leading to their bindings being ragged and bulging with crinkled pages that had never returned to their former smoothness.These were spread out on the shelves, despite his saying that he couldn't read.

Glass bottles hung suspended from the ceiling by strings. Blue fungi or gel or something oozy-looking filled the bottoms, and faint light glowed from each one, most pale blue but a few pale lavender. Droplets of salt water wept down some of the sleek, dark walls, pooling in the creases of the cracked stone floor.

It was depressing. Not at all what I had expected.

Three different doors had been fastened into the wall. Two did not appear to be well set. The third had similar bands to the one we had entered through, suggesting that perhaps it was an exit.

I managed another sip of the tonic and grimaced.

The air was damp and cold. I shivered, the water still dripping off me.

I was going to die down here. That was all there was to it. Mama wouldn't know how much I loved her. And how much I regretted being so harsh. I should have given her a hug, even if she was mad at me. I should have told her I loved her again.I'd told her thousands of times, and I wanted to tell her a thousand more.

The knot of emotion in my throat choked me.

My mood soured as I hugged myself.

"You're cold?" He tilted his head.

The way he looked at me no longer charmed me at all.

I glared at him. "Of course I'm cold, you thick-skulled shifter. You dragged me down under the ocean in the middle of a storm! I don't even have a coat." I bit back the tears that rose to my eyes. And right now all I really wanted was to hug Mama and make sure she was all right.

"If you'd had a coat, it would be wet as well. Like your shawl and everything else." The orb still cradled in his palm, he strode toward a dark portion of the room and tapped it to another glistening crystal orb. It lit up, revealing a large wardrobe. He set his orb in a black iron ring and opened the wardrobe, releasing a musty scent rich with incense, cedar, and lavender. He leaned inside and pulled out a few garments. "Here. You can change. Something should fit."

I accepted the armload of clothes, trying to make sense of this place. Was it a storage room? "Do you not have a fire down here?"

There was no heat source that I could see. Really no furniture for comfort unless you counted the thin rush mats that sat on the floor and some crooked stools and chairs. The shelves with knickknacks and cupboards looked as if they had been ripped out of multiple ships and haphazardly dominated most of the walls. A large table leaned crooked on three legs with a stack of books serving as the fourth. No hearth or fireplace or stove. Not even a fire ring. "Nothing at all for heat?"

"No." He raised an eyebrow at me. He indicated the door behind me. "You can change in there. It's where you'll stay."

The door practically sagged open when I pressed my hand to it. Inside was a broken end table, a half pitcher, cracked mirror, and a thin, discolored mat that might have started to mold.A thin blanket had been folded up at the foot.

My shoulders dropped.

Corvin closed the wardrobe and opened the door next to it, revealing another room.

My eyes widened. "Is that your bedroom?" I asked, indicating it with a flip of my hand.

That room was almost as sparse as the guest room. A thin, ragged blanket lay mounded at the foot of the mat. Something like a coat or a dress had been balled up to form a circle. Tagger lay on that, tail pressed up over his little snout. A wooden chair sat in the corner with a sagging dresser next to it. The lowest drawer had edged out.

He nodded, his head tilted as he studied me. "Yes…"

"This is your home…not just some outpost you stay in?" I couldn't believe this place. Was that fungus growing on the wall?

"This is where I live," he said, his voice tighter.

"How could anyone live like this? This isn't fit for living. Not even for animals." It just slipped out.

He flinched. His expression twisted into a scowl as he opened his mouth to speak.