Chapter 33
S he was back on the ship.
Arrows narrowly missed her, and the hungry night devoured her screams. Lachlan held her tightly, shaking her with nothing but rage in his cold, dead eyes.
“ Get ashore.”
“ Get to the Well.”
Words that were loud and quiet at the same time as if she were already under the water. Then she was weightless, thrown from the ship and hurtling towards the black water.
Drowning.
Emer startled awake with a shout, finding herself back in their dimly lit room at the inn.
Calder sat up from where he slept on the floor at the side of the bed. “It’s okay, Merrow, it was just a dream,” he soothed, eyes barely open.
Emer balled her hands into fists, sucking in a deep breath. Her slow exhale rattled as it escaped her. Drowsily, Calder leaned his forehead against the mattress and threaded his fingers through hers .
“I’m here. You’re safe,” he whispered, swaying slightly as he tried to remain sitting.
When her grip on his hand eased and her breathing slowed, Emer settled back into the covers. Calder, in turn, laid back down on the floor. After a moment, he reached up and pulled her hand down, intertwining their fingers once more.
Emotion clogged her throat as she recalled holding her father’s hand in the exact same manner. The memory flashed in her mind of the night she promised him that she would do anything to save him. The last time she had seen him.
“Safe,” he whispered again, slipping back into sleep.
She continued to stare at their hands until her eyelids grew heavy. Without thinking, she gently squeezed his hand.
Once.
Twice.
As sleep returned to claim her, the anchor of his grasp kept her from being swept away by the nightmares.
When Emer attempted to stretch the sleep from her muscles and stress from her bones the next morning, she kicked something heavy and solid. Keane remained curled at her feet, the only difference from the night being that half his loaf of bread was now gone.
As the three of them woke, it was a day that felt different from all those that had come before it. There was a shift—something both nameless and inherently right. The surprise and relief of finding something you had not realized had been missing.
Perhaps it was because they’d been strangers—some more recently than others—that they were able to share their secrets so freely.
Despite all their differences, they were united by the broken pieces they so often hid. Jagged edges that fit together, making each of them whole.
As Emer’s consciousness formed, she became increasingly aware of the consequences of their game. Her stomach was sour, and there was an ache behind her eyes. Any other morning, she would have welcomed the warm greeting of the sun that slithered between the shutters, but today, its shine scolded her like a disappointed parent.
Her thoughts moved from the aches and pains throughout her body to another sensation. A weight that continued to tug on her arm, twined fingers, and the subtle twitches of someone caught between the realms of waking and sleeping.
Peering over the side of the bed, she found Calder sleeping on his side, one hand still holding hers while using his other arm as a pillow.
Cold One, indeed.
Although his eyes were slow to open, a soft smile appeared.
His voice was still harsh from sea shanties and sleep when he said good morning.
“Good morning,” she returned, her attention trailing back to their hands.
He gave a brief squeeze before he released it and sat up. The change in position brought them to eye level.
“What did you dream of?” he asked, worry furrowing his brow.
“ I dreamt I lived in a magical world where people didn’t talk this early,” Keane grumbled in a low voice.
Emer chuckled, but the vibration threatened to fracture her skull, and she winced.
“I’m dying,” Keane moaned.
“I’m not that lucky,” Calder said, rolling his neck and stretching his shoulders.
Despite a night on the floor, he was in far better humor than his companions.
“No loud noises,” Emer begged .
She pressed her palms into her eyes, willing the stabbing away.
Calder leaned in close, his breath warm against her skin as he asked, “Would you prefer if I whispered?”
Her body reacted to his proximity despite the fact that she was even less inclined to entertain his teasing than usual.
“How is it exactly that you are not plagued with the same blight as us?” she whined.
His soft chuckle tickled the hair near her ear. “Debaucherous pirate, remember?” he grinned.
“Who cares? Keane is not even mortal!” she shot back, turning her head and meeting his gaze from behind her hands.
Calder pulled back, eyeing Keane meaningfully.
“She has a point. How is it exactly that you have lived all this time and yet are still this sloppy when drunk?” he taunted.
“Because… ass… I was drinking Fae wine rather than subjecting myself to your piss-poor mortal ale. As with all things Fae, it is stronger.” His threatening tone did not match his curled-up form.
“Indeed. You both are the picture of strength and self-respect,” Calder mocked.
The pair growled back but didn’t have the energy or the sobriety to produce any further bite.
“I’ll see if I can’t find some raw eel and bitter almonds for you sorry excuses for travelers,” he sighed.
At the mention of raw eel, Emer leaped up, Keane cursing as she jostled the bed in an attempt to escape the covers. Once free, she flung herself through the shutters of the nearby window. After making a noise reminiscent of a cat hissing, Keane took advantage of the vacant space in the bed, slowly crawling to the center and under the covers. The fabric did little to provide a barrier from the sounds of Emer emptying her stomach. Wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, Emer collapsed on the windowsill, her body dangling on either side.
“Sorry, Em. Eel and bitter almonds are a sworn remedy?— ”
“For fuck’s sake! Enough about the eels. If you want to be useful, go and see if you can secure any peppermint, lemon balm, or valerian, you monster,” Keane rebuked.
“I don’t think you are in a position to give orders right now,” Calder retorted.
A hand slid out from under the covers just long enough to form a vulgar gesture before disappearing back under the blanket.
Carefully, Calder gathered Emer into his arms and back over to the bed, where she took the spot Keane previously occupied.
“We are wasting daylight. Can’t you conjure some sort of elixir or potion to cure yourselves?” he asked impatiently.
“I’m flattered, but I can’t just conjure an elixir I do not know the components of, and potions are for witches,” Keane grumbled.
“Then what can you do?” Calder challenged.
“Channel magic. Stop a heart. Compel mortals. Conjure flames. Leap through space. Useful shit,” Keane barked, his form under the blankets tensing as if the outburst caused him pain.
Calder sighed, “I’ll check the field out back.”
Magic stirred the air and the shutters closed, blocking out the harsh level of light. The soft snick of the door signaled Calder’s departure, and in the silence, Emer’s mind returned to what Keane had said a moment before.
“Darling, if you let thoughts rattle around in your skull in your current condition, it is likely to cause permanent damage,” he remarked from beneath the covers.
“Can all Fae do those things?” she asked.
Sliding the fabric down, he met her stare with a snort.
At Emer's earnest expression, he straightened. Isle Basalt was so rich with magic that it was easy to forget that it was a land more of myth than truth to others. In those lands, he had been treated like divinity. Keane smiled, seeing the same wonder in her eyes that he had recalled seeing lifetimes earlier. Unlike in his youth, he did not feel the addictive pull to flaunt his abilities and receive her worship. Instead, he felt a fierce protectiveness over her innocence .
“Not many, if any. I mentioned before I made many deals to become who I am. Some of those deals were not good, in which case, my magic feels more like a shackle than a gift,” he said with a feather of his jaw.
Emer frowned as she asked, “Why?”
“Because, lovie, when the terms of a bargain are in opposition to what I want, I become my own worst enemy, and I am not an enemy anyone would want to have.”
She gave him a sweet smile, grasping his hand in hers.
“Good thing we are friends then,” she cooed.
“Calder would be jealous to hear you say that.” Raising her hand, he softly kissed it. “Say it again when he gets back,” he teased.
Emer fought against a laugh, and Keane smiled as his eyes tracked over her features.
“What are you thinking?” Emer asked, and the question jarred him for a moment.
His expression was a pensive one or waring emotions. “You feel so very familiar to me, and it is a foreign feeling I find myself tempted to covet,” he confessed.
Emer’s brow pinched. “How long have you been alone?”
An empty and defeated look flashed in his eyes.
“Long enough to think your friendship resulted from an Elder’s mistake or a plan to punish me further. Both options terrify me.”
“Do the Elders make mistakes?” Emer asked, not wanting to comment on her presence somehow being a punishment.
“I hope so, or else they are far crueler than I want to believe,” he said, proving his scars went far beyond the jagged tear in his wing.
“What of your family?” she inquired.
“They maintained a regular Fae lifespan, living substantially longer than mortals. All of those most dear to me have long since passed beyond the Array,” he sighed .
“Keane.”
His name was a whispered, somber note in the quiet morning, barely louder than the song of the birds ringing in the day.
“Some centuries are lonelier than others. I’m growing quite fond of this one,” he said, forcing a smile more for her benefit than anything.
“If finding each other was a mistake, it is one I am thankful for,” Emer said warmly.
Keane nodded slowly but did not meet her eyes.
The door opened and the pair turned their attention to Calder, who was substantially muddier than before.
“Are any of these what you wanted?” he asked, tossing what looked like half the highland on the bed.
Slipping back into his carefree demeanor, Keane sifted through the various herbs and flowers. “Thank the Elders. Chew on this, Emmy, and all will be well,” he explained as he popped one of the flowers into his mouth.
It tasted like citrus and fresh rainfall. Almost immediately, her stomach settled and the headache ceased.
“You really are magic!” she said, giving Keane a nudge.
“This realm is blessed with many plants and flowers with curing abilities. In fact, their healing properties have caused some to be nicknamed ‘fairy herbs’, although many other beings have discovered their uses. Witches are more well known for their use of deadly ones like foxglove, but it was a witch that taught me the wonders of lemon balm to cure a nasty night of drinking.”
As soon as the color had fully returned to Emer’s face and they were certain Keane could remain upright, Calder began delegating tasks for their departure. Leaving Invengarry meant saying farewell to the last suitable town until the Well. As they packed their belongings and the new provisions Calder had secured, they did so in preparation for sleeping under the stars. Although the ride ahead would be long, exhaustion almost guaranteed they would sleep with little issue .
A track in the mud just outside the inn caught Emer’s attention, and she paused, smiling down at the sight of the very large paw print. With a silent prayer that she would not encounter its owner again any time soon, they left.