Chapter 20 #2
Theo froze, his eyes scanning over the crowd that had amassed around their dinghy.
The Blue Men looked haunted. It was the only way to describe the wretched eagerness on their faces.
What Calum was offering was no small thing, but Theo didn't understand the magnitude until he watched the Blue Men's reaction.
Lyra swam closer to the boat, putting her arm over the edge to anchor herself to its side.
Wyn sat up straighter, a stony expression taking over his face.
A gust of wind blew from the north, whipping Wyn's long black hair around his jaw.
Theo swallowed thickly, watching as Wyn's countenance changed. He was a fool for assuming Wyn was not in control of the situation. The only thing tethering Theo consciousness was Lyra’s presence beside him, her hand achingly close.
If he reached out, he could hold it, but he didn't dare make a move.
“It's a good thing I am not lying to you then, my friend.” The words were friendly, but Wyn's tone was deadly. The ‘I will fuck you up, too, if you try to cross us’ was heavily implied.
The leader of the Blue Men nodded once, a curt, perfunctory gesture.
“What is it you wish to know?” His gaze slowly panned from Wyn to Theo to Lyra. Wyn opened his mouth to speak, but Theo beat him to it. He didn't want Wyn to speak for him. This was his fucked up destiny that got them all in this mess, and he would find a way to get them out of it.
“Cliodhna cursed me when I was a baby. I was born in her waters, and when my parents offered blessings to Manannán, she was infuriated.
She placed a curse on me when my parents wouldn't give me over to be raised by her banshees.” Theo vomited all of the words out, wringing his hands together.
He never liked saying her name out loud, especially when he was in the middle of the ocean, in a tiny dinghy.
The leader of the Blue Men cocked his head to the side, his eyes going glassy and vacant. “And you wish to know the language of this curse?” His voice sounded even more robotic, with a pronounced echo, as though he was somewhere far away.
“Yes,” Theo nodded. “It would help. We only have the stories. My parents—”
“Are dead.” The leader spoke in a monotone, completely devoid of emotion. He turned towards the other Blue Men, communicating something only they could understand. The surface of the water grew choppy, soft waves picking up and rocking the boat back and forth.
“Lyra!” Theo turned towards her, grabbing her hand. “Get in the boat, please.” The wind was slowly picking up speed, and Theo was worried they were on the cusp of another storm.
“You know I'm safer in the water,” Lyra chided softly, trying to lighten the mood.
Theo paled and shook his head. He wanted her next to him, where he could feel her body heat and know she was real. The water was still a terrifying place for him, even if he knew it was Lyra's home.
Lyra saw the panic in his face and acquiesced, gracefully slipping into the boat.
She kept her tail, sitting politely on the bench next to Theo as though riding sidesaddle.
Lyra wrapped her arms around Theo's neck and placed her head on his shoulder.
He placed his hand over hers, and they looked out towards the Blue Men, who were moving closer to each other.
Theo was grateful Wyn didn't comment on how close he and Lyra were in that moment.
The weather was distinctly worse than it'd been a few minutes before, and the sea was choppier, but it reached a stalemate.
The Blue Men were in a perfect circle now, their ghostly arms reaching up towards heaven. Their eyes rolled back into their heads, and when their mouths opened, the most glorious sound came out.
It echoed inside Theo's head, nestling into his heart.
He could see his mother's face and hear his father's laugh, as if he were transported to another world where they were all still together.
It was bliss and agony. Theo wanted it to end and needed to stay in this moment forever.
Then, the scene in front of his eyes shifted, and there was nothing but the ocean.
The sun was setting on the horizon, and Lyra played in and out of the waves, cresting the water, bathing on sun rocks, and singing—oh, the most miraculous singing!
It was the voice that still haunted his dreams, and he wanted to listen to it forever.
Theo didn't know how long this had been going on, this semi-lucid state, somewhere between being awake and being asleep. This agony, this ecstasy, which reminded him of his mortality and made him feel immortal at the same time.
Then the Blue Men closed their mouths, and the music stopped. Theo was thrown back into his physical body, pulled back to his consciousness with violence.
“Fuck,” he gasped for breath, grabbing at his chest to quell his racing heartbeat. Lyra was still holding onto him, her eyes wet with tears, and Wyn had tucked his head between his knees.
“What the fuck was that?” Theo gasped, wrapping an arm around Lyra's waist and pulling her into his lap. He needed her close to him and a desire to protect her from whatever madness they'd descended into.
“The Blue Men…” Lyra swallowed, her voice thick. “That is their language. The song of fallen angels… The music of heaven.”
Theo shuddered, a chill running down his spine. It was not the celestial choir that many a Catholic school had insisted upon in his youth.
“Excuse me.” The leader of the Blue Men swam towards them, reapproaching the boat. The others had disappeared. “We know what Cliodhna said to you.”