Chapter 22
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Theo sank to the deck of the ship, his knees hitting the wood with a crack.
He stared at the spot where Lyra disappeared beneath the waves, his mind completely blank except for the image of Lyra's fleeting face.
It was all he could see on loop, the image burned into his retinas, a horrible depiction of everything he'd lost. His worst fears were coming true; he really was a coward.
He hadn't even tried to save Lyra from Cliodhna.
What had been done? He had watched. He stood on the boat in relative safety and watched as she was pulled between the waves by the vilest creature he'd ever seen.
It was the first time he'd seen Cliodhna in person, and the rumors didn't do her any justice.
The words 'goddess of the sea' conjured up images of sea-foam-colored dresses, brightly colored wishes, or pastel hair and mermaids. For the Greeks, it was Poseidon, regal and powerful, one of the three brothers, next to Zeus and Hades, the oldest.
Cliodhna was none of these things. She was the queen of the banshees, a living reminder of all the wretched power of the waves, the death that sank to the bottom of the seafloor, never to be seen again.
Cliodhna was in the trenches and the deep pockets of depressing darkness, of waters so opaque that the sunlight could never touch them.
Even her face and skin had a melted appearance, as though she needed the pressure of the deep to keep her bones together, and rising to the surface slowly caused her to drift apart.
If only defeating her would be that easy. Theo knew it wouldn't be. He didn't know how long he was sitting there, his senses drowned out by the only thing he could ruminate on: Lyra's body tangled in Cliodhna's icy grip.
“Theo! Lad, you've got to—” Wyn's voice finally got through to Theo, but it sounded distant, intangible.
Then Theo was underwater. Literally. The cold shocked him and reset his system as he accidentally snorted seawater.
It burned his sinuses, and as soon as he realized what was happening, it stopped.
Theo came back to his body in a sputtering, spitting mess, sucking in great mouthfuls of air as water dripped down his back.
“Theo, my boy,” Wyn was crouching in front of him, one hand on his shoulder and the other holding an empty bucket. Everything about his demeanor was worried but exuding calm authority, like a parent checking in on a child. “You have got to breathe.”
Theo knew, logically, Wyn was not chastising him or saying this as a critique of Theo's character. Despite this, Theo shrank back even further into himself.
“She… I… can’t,” Theo trailed off, trying and failing to string together the words ‘she is gone, and I can't do anything.’ In a stroke of luck, Wyn managed to put this together.
Theo was relieved and impressed, but frankly, he had been repeating those words for the better part of ten minutes, so Wyn had plenty of time to decipher their meaning.
Also, they both watched Lyra be pulled into the sea by Cliodhan.
In all fairness, there wasn't any doubt as to what Theo was reacting to.
“Please,” Wyn asked gently, but there was a command in his tone.
Theo sank further onto the deck, his body collapsing like a deflated balloon.
“I don't know what to do,” he finally wheezed out. “Fuck! This whole thing is a mess, and it's all my fault! It’s always my fault…”
“Theo,” Wyn leaned down and grabbed his shoulders, shaking him gently, “you are having a panic attack right now. Everything is going to be fine. I promise you that. But you aren't going to get anything solved when you're this worked up, okay?”
Theo's brain was slow to grasp Wyn's words.
Everything was happening too slowly and too quickly at the same time for him to handle.
A panic attack. Yes, he had those before.
He knew what those were. Which meant that if this were a panic attack, it would end.
He would be able to come out on the other side, regroup, and develop a plan.
He'd had a myriad of therapists who always told him the same thing; to their credit, it often worked.
“A panic attack?” Theo questioned, his voice sounding cracked and raw to his own ears.
Wyn's shoulders dropped slightly in relief to hear a semi-conscious question come out of Theo.
“Yes. Can you breathe with me?” Wyn prompted, and Theo managed to nod.
Wyn shamelessly worked through a series of breathing exercises with Theo, with all the care and tenderness in the world, without a single ounce of judgment or hesitation.
When he was done, Theo could see straight again and was thinking clearly.
Or about as clearly as he was going to get.
His mind was still entirely focused on Lyra.
Wyn watched as Theo disappeared below deck, letting out a long sigh of relief as he did so. He empathized with Theo, truly, on a level that the young fae prince probably didn't and would never understand. It was true nonetheless.
But now, they had a problem to solve. The sea around them was still calm, the sun approaching midafternoon in the sky.
The only magical signature Wyn could make any sense of was the one belonging to the boat itself.
The Blue Men had disappeared, already spreading out into Scotland's waters, and they had no other enemies or allies nearby.
It would take too long to get a message to Edinburgh. Their cellphones stopped working this far out to sea. Wyn was fresh out of carrier pigeons or magical letters or crystal balls on board the Barufakr. He stood at the ship's wheel, the wind at his back.
He refused to go speeding off without a plan, but it was foolish to think they were going to do anything else except go after Lyra. He still didn't like her, but Calum had made a bargain with her, and she was willing to die for Theo. That would have to be enough for now.
Wyn, despite his jovial nature, didn't actually like a lot of people, so this wasn't as much of a strike against Lyra as some might think.
Wyn's mind sorted through every possibility available to them.
It was a very short list. If they wanted to get help from Calum and all of Calum's resources, they would have to go back to Edinburgh.
The realization settled in Wyn's gut like a stone. He knew Theo wouldn’t like the option, but it was their best plan.
It was foolish to go up against a foe without backup, or even the full extent of your strength, and it was suicidal to go up against a goddess without those things.
Theo wasn't thinking straight, so it would be up to Wyn to help him understand why this was the best course of action. He was mentally working through his argument when Theo ascended the cabin steps and reemerged on the deck.
Theo was back in his body. It was a stretch to say he was thinking clearly, but he had regained a full reckoning of his senses and was dreadfully present in the moment.
He found some spare clothing left out for him in the bathroom by the ship's hospitality magic and was in a remarkably calmer mood once he was out of his wet clothes.
“Okay.” Theo clapped his hands, forcing a slow breath out through his mouth. “What do you think we should do? I'd imagine Cliodhna is headed further into Irish waters, where she's more powerful and more comfortable, so set a course for—”
“Theo,” Wyn slowed the captain's wheel to a halt as the fae prince approached, “we need to go back to Edinburgh.”
For a minute, no one said anything on the deck of the Barufakr. Theo stared at Wyn like he was looking through him. Not even shock or anger registered on his face. It was as if Wyn said nothing at all, which was why he braced himself for an outburst.
“Are you insane?” Theo yelled, reacting all at once like a can of shaken soda. “Wyn, I know you don't like her, but she is going to die! You can't be so fucking heartless as to do nothing and let Cliodhna kill her!”
“I’m not saying that we kill her, lad.” Wyn forced himself to breathe slowly, telling himself he needed to be the calm one here. It was a new role for Wyn, and it reminded him why he’d never wanted to take his parents’ throne or have children.
“You are, though!” Theo interrupted. He reached across the ship's wheel in a sudden movement, grabbing the collar of Wyn's shirt. “Grab this bloody wheel and take me to her, or I swear to the old gods—”
Wyn's eyes widened, and he clapped his hand over Theo's mouth before Theo could say anything.
“Don't you go doing anything as foolish as that! We're in a predicament with one of those old gods right now, you nutty, and you're going to summon her right back to us accidentally!”
Theo was shaking with rage, and Wyn was reminded that while he was bigger than Theo, it wasn't by much.
He may have grown up away from the royal family and magic at large, but he'd still had combat training from a variety of tutors since he could walk.
It wouldn't be smart to pick a fight with him right now.
Wyn knew the look of desperation on Theo's face. He'd worn a similar one once, and the ache still stung, even decades later. He started to mull over the different options available to them… and one idea floated to the surface, providing an alternative to going back to Edinburgh.