Chapter Twenty-Nine
The idea came to me somewhere on the drive back as I watched áedán's Land Rover eat up the miles ahead of me.
The sun caught the rear window at an angle that made it look like water, and I thought about how áedán had changed over the centuries.
He'd learned to drive so he could explore.
He'd adapted to modern clothing, mobile phones, and a world that no longer needed water guardians in the way it once had.
áedán must have spoken another language before. He had even changed his form.
áedán had survived by changing. Not by staying frozen in the old stories. That was why he was the last kelpie.
By the time we pulled through the gates of the estate, past the metal arch with its Latin inscription, I knew what I needed to do. I just had to convince Julian. And Caelum. Especially Caelum.
áedán parked in the lot near the main hall. I pulled up beside him and got out. He was already walking toward me, and the look on his face said he knew I was planning something.
“What are you thinking?” He caught my hand.
“I need to talk to Julian and Caelum. And probably everyone else.”
“Aboot?”
“About how we've been doing this wrong.”
áedán's eyebrows rose. “That should go over well, seeing as I'm your first assignment.”
“That won't matter to them. They're too intelligent for that kind of bias. Will you come with me?”
He squeezed my hand. “Of course.”
We found Julian in his office, still going through the failed missions. He glanced up when we entered and set the folders aside immediately.
“You're back.” His gaze moved between us. “Together.”
“Yes, and I've had an idea. Could you call a meeting?” I asked. “Senior Velascans and Caelum.”
Julian studied me for a long moment, then nodded. “I'll gather everyone. Give me twenty minutes. We can use the meeting room on the second floor.”
“Thank you.”
We headed to the dining hall for breakfast. Rory was there with Zephyr. As I went up to them, Zephyr squawked and met me halfway. I picked him up and went to Rory.
“Thank you so much.” I handed Rory his keys.
“You brought him back.” Rory grinned at áedán. “That's enough thanks for me.”
We ate breakfast with Rory, sharing with Zephyr, and then went upstairs.
The meeting room overlooked the central garden where Velas's oak stood like a sentinel.
Large windows let in streams of light that warmed the mahogany table.
A red Persian rug lay beneath the table, and mismatched chairs gathered around it, feeling comfortable rather than careless.
We sat down facing the windows and waited.
Zephyr found a spot in the sun and curled up on the floor.
Julian arrived first, followed by Agnes with a leather-bound notebook.
Hassan came next, already looking as if he wanted to lecture someone.
Mei Lin bounced in wearing a bright yellow dress embroidered with cranes, and her hair pinned up with jade sticks.
Then Mateo appeared with a tray of tea and biscuits.
He made sure everyone had some before he sat down.
Caelum arrived last. He moved through the doorway like spring arriving, and I swore the plants in the window boxes outside leaned toward him, pressing against the glass.
He wore a dark green suit today in his usual style that hung like a robe.
The color went well with his bright hair and enhanced the leafy vines threaded through it.
His toes peeked out from beneath the hem of his pants.
“Before we get into what you've got to say, Ethan, you need to know that we found six more assignments with the spiral in them.” Caelum settled into a chair at the head of the table.
“How far back did it go?” I asked.
“Over forty years.”
“Oh my God.”
“Yes, but at least there were only six. Over such a period, I would have expected more. I believe they were learning in the beginning. They became better as time passed.”
“Wait. Those records were in the Archive. So that means those spirals couldn't have been added later. And that means whoever is doing this is at least sixty years old, maybe older.” I paused, then cursed. “Damn it, it could be Ed after all.”
Caelum shrugged. “I don't believe this is evidence of their age, nor do I believe our villain is the folklorist. Now, Julian says you have something important to discuss with us.”
I stood. With surprise, I noticed that my hands were shaking, so I pressed them flat against the table.
Caelum's words had shaken me. I had to collect my thoughts before I spoke.
“I think we've been approaching this wrong. The preservation work. Conservation.” I shook my head and shrugged.
“Whatever you want to call it. The way we think about myths and their survival.”
Hassan frowned. “We've successfully preserved hundreds of myths using our current methodology.”
“Yes, by treating them like treasure—something precious but not alive. We document their original forms, archive their histories, and try to restore the oldest versions of their stories. But that's not how myths survive. That's not how anything survives.”
Agnes tilted her head. “Go on.”
“áedán has lived for six hundred years, outlasting his entire clan.
He's survived this long not because someone preserved him exactly as he was, but because he changed. áedán learned to take human form and blend in. He learned to drive. He learned the new language. He explored, watched, and adapted.” I glanced at áedán, and he nodded.
“The Velasca has been trying to restore old myths to what they were.
But that won't help them anymore. The world has changed too much.”
“So what are you suggesting?” Julian's voice was mild, but I could see the interest in his eyes.
“We need to help myths continue living by evolving with the times. Not by changing who they are fundamentally, but by helping them find new ways to be relevant. New ways to connect with people. And we must let their stories evolve too.”
Everyone went silent, the only sound was Zephyr's soft snoring.
I hurried on. “I'm not saying that we allow people to change the stories to the point where it harms the myths. I'm saying we should help them evolve so that we have control of the narrative. Then we can change them in ways that benefit them.”
“That's a significant philosophical shift.” Agnes looked to Julian. “We've always focused on the preservation of original stories.”
“Because original forms are the truest,” Hassan added. “Once you start changing myths, where does it stop? How do you prevent corruption?”
“We're not talking aboot corruption,” áedán said, his voice quiet but firm. “We're talking aboot adaptation. There's a difference. As Ethan said, if you change the story, you control it. You can make sure that it helps the myths stay relevant and strong.”
Mei Lin leaned forward, her eyes bright.
“Festivals have always changed. Songs evolve.
Traditions take on new contexts. That's how they survive.” She looked at me.
“The Archive preserves stories. But people create them.
Living people, in living communities, in a changing world.
Stories that don't change become history.”
“Exactly.” I felt something loosen in my chest. “We've been so focused on protecting myths from dying that we've forgotten life requires change.
A kelpie in the twenty-first century can't exist the same way one did in the twelfth century. The land is different. The people are different. The relationship between humans and water has changed.”
“So we help them adapt,” Julian said. It wasn't a question.
“We create an initiative. Cultural festivals that celebrate myths in modern contexts.
Research into what appeals to contemporary humans, what makes stories feel relevant now.
We use the Velasca's partnerships with museums and communities to help myths participate in the present rather than being preserved in the past.”
Hassan shook his head. “This could go wrong in so many ways. What if we accidentally encourage a change that fades a myth? What if we push myths to adapt in ways that destroy their essential nature?”
“What if you dinnae, and we all fade anyway?” áedán stood up beside me.
“I've watched my entire clan disappear, and now I know it's because they couldnae adapt.
I have always been the most curious of my people.
I explored. Humans made me curious. The way they changed with every generation fascinated me.
First alchemy, then science, then technology.
I saw it as wondrous, but it scared the rest of my clan.
When the world changed, they clung to the old ways and hid.
They retreated to the bottom of the loch when boats roared over the surface.
They watched humans with fear, not fascination.
And when the Editor attacked, they had nothing to ground them in this time.
Nothing to keep them here. When they faded, I withdrew.
I watched the humans warily. And now, I'm fading.
Ethan is right. You're killing us with your preservation. You need to listen to him.”
The Editor. áedán had said it with a capital E. Our enemy now had a name. Not their true name, but a title. Like a myth.
“Look at you.” áedán motioned to Caelum. “You have kept true to yourself. You walk across the earth with bare feet, connecting to it. But you wear modern clothing and run a powerful organization. That is your evolution. It's how you've survived.”
Caelum had been listening without speaking, his hands folded on the table.
But after áedán finished, he finally spoke.
“Velas never preserved myths to keep them frozen in time. He preserved them because he wanted them to have a future. He believed every story deserved the chance to continue, to grow, to find new meaning in new ages. To live.”