Chapter 18 #2
“I’ve had practice,” Eirin replied with a roguish smile. “Though I’m starting to think you were born to be twirled around a dance floor.”
Sorcha laughed softly. “You’re treading dangerous waters.”
“I’ll try not to let it happen again,” he teased.
The music shifted again, becoming slower and more haunting.
Lantern light flickered across the room, softening the edges and turning everything golden.
Sorcha’s eyes met a familiar shape in the distance.
Blue eyes caught hers, and she paused as she began pushing through the crowd.
But when she reached the spot, the figure was gone.
At the edge of the floor, Riona brushed a loose lock of hair from her face.
She didn’t need to look to know Emry was watching her; the awareness pressed against her skin like warmth before a flame.
He held out his hand. For a heartbeat, she hesitated, then took it.
Together, they moved as if the rest of the world had fallen away, the air between them thick with quiet anticipation.
Riona’s eyes lifted, her expression softening.
“I thought you weren’t much of a dancer. ”
“I make exceptions,” Emry said, his voice low. His movements were steady and deliberate, but there was reverence in the way he held her, as if he feared she might vanish if he blinked. Riona let him guide her, her usual wit softening into something quieter, more vulnerable.
“Oh, you must really love me then,” Riona teased, her voice barely a whisper. Her gaze lifted to meet his.
Emry didn’t hesitate. “I do.”
She drew in a breath, the corners of her mouth curving. “Someone might hear you.”
“Let them,” he said, his tone lighter now, though his eyes didn’t waver from hers.
Riona’s cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze.
The space between them seemed to stretch, filled with unspoken words like the lingering notes of a melody.
As the music faded, Riona stepped back, her expression carefully composed as she smoothed her tunic.
Emry let her go, his fingers brushing hers one last time before he returned to the table.
If anyone noticed, they didn’t comment. Along the docks, the waves whispered.
Overhead, lanterns swayed, their light flickering on the water.
Eirin walked beside Riona, silent and inscrutable.
Meanwhile, Sorcha’s mind wandered to the blue eyes in the tavern and the night that seemed to cling to her skin.
“Peaceful, isn’t it?” Emry murmured, his gaze fixed on the dark horizon. He took a few steps, his hand brushing lightly against Riona’s.
“Too peaceful,” Rhosyn said from behind them.
Riona gave a soft snort, her unease evident in her glance toward the water. “Don’t start with the ominous talk, okay? Not tonight.” Silence hung in the air until Eirin abruptly stopped, his body stiffening. He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as if listening for a distant sound.
“Do you hear that?” he asked, his voice quiet, almost hollow. The others paused.
“Hear what?” Rhosyn asked, frowning. Voices, carried on an invisible current, swirled around them. The haunting melody rose from the water, achingly beautiful and laced with sorrow, and enveloped them, its pull undeniable. “It’s…” Eirin trailed off, taking a step toward the pier.
“Wait.” Emry’s voice was urgent, his brow furrowed as he turned to Eirin. But as the hymn swelled, his gaze shifted towards the dark waves, and he hesitated.
“Emry?” Riona’s voice cracked slightly as she reached for him, her hand closing around his arm.
“Don’t.” “It’s… calling,” he murmured, his voice distant.
“Damn it, no!” Riona snapped, tugging on his arm, her panic barely contained. “Look at me! Stay with me!”
But Emry took a faltering step toward the water, his expression softening into something unrecognizable. Beside him, Eirin moved closer to the edge, his movements slow and unsteady.
“Eirin, stop!” Sorcha’s voice cut through the stillness as she stepped in front of him, planting herself firmly in his path. She grabbed his arms, shaking him. “Eirin, look at me!”
The hymn grew louder, its mournful melody weaving through the air. Sorcha glanced back and froze.
A figure swayed just beneath the surface, its form shifting between human and horse.
The kelpie moved with an eerie grace, its sleek black coat gleaming like wet obsidian.
It resembled a massive horse at first, with a powerful, lean, muscular frame, but something was off.
Its mane clung to its neck in long, tangled strands, a mixture of seaweed and bone, dripping briny water.
Its webbed hooves shifted into hands, transforming it from beast to almost human.
The change should have been clumsy, but it wasn’t; the kelpie simply became something else, as if both forms had always belonged to it.
Its glowing eyes held an eerie light that reflected off the water.
Its sleek, otherworldly form swayed in time with the melody, the song digging into the deepest corners of her mind.
“Emry, stop!” Riona pleaded, her voice breaking as she pulled harder on his arm, her nails digging into his sleeve.
“He’s slipping,” Rhosyn hissed, rushing forward to grab Emry’s other arm. “And so is Eirin! Pull them back!” Her strength was steady as she strained against the men, her movements deliberate and controlled, but they fought against her, as if the hymn had stolen their will. Sorcha’s panic rose.
“Eirin, come back!” Sorcha’s voice trembled, a choked gasp escaping her as she gripped his shoulders.
Desperation clawed at her, and a blossoming warmth bloomed beneath her skin.
Hidden runes beneath her clothes glowed faintly, intricate patterns illuminating her.
The air crackled with a light that intensified, igniting the air.
The kelpie’s song faltered, its eyes flaring like lanterns.
Light danced on the water like the sun’s glare on the dark waves.
The creature recoiled, its smooth body shuddering, the hymn’s melody fractured into a raw, guttural cry.
“Sorcha…” Eirin murmured, stumbling as the trance shattered. His eyes flicked to hers, wide with confusion.
Emry’s movements stilled as the kelpie let out a final, piercing wail before vanishing beneath the waves. The silence it left behind was almost deafening.
“Emry,” Riona whispered, her grip still tight on his arm. He blinked, his blue eyes clearing as he turned to her, his breathing unsteady.
“I’m here,” he said hoarsely, though his gaze darted to the water, a lingering daze in his expression.
Rhosyn pulled both men farther from the pier, her movements unrelenting. The group stood in stunned silence, the cool night air suddenly feeling heavy, oppressive.
“What the hell just happened?” Riona asked, her voice tight with a mix of fear and anger.
Sorcha’s heart pounded as she glanced at Riona, who was staring at her but not at her face, at her hands. The faint glow of the runes was already fading, the warmth dissipating into the night.
Riona’s expression flickered but then she turned away, acting as though she hadn’t noticed anything. “We need to get out of here,” she said curtly.
Sorcha swallowed hard, her gaze drifting back to the water. “It was a kelpie,” she mumbled.
Riona’s face became cold, almost angry as she looked around the group, her hand still resting on his arm. “What’s happening?”
“I don’t know,” Emry admitted, his voice still raw from the encounter. “But whatever it is… this is just the beginning.”
The unsettling feeling lingered, prompting the group to return to the inn quickly. Inside the group tried to settle, but the chilling encounter remained a heavy weight, a reminder of their near loss.
That night, the women vigilantly watched over Eirin and Emry, their caution fueled by the haunting melody and illuminating eyes they had witnessed.
During her shift, Sorcha sat by the cool glass, her fingers tracing the cold steel of her dagger as she scanned the harbor, the distant orbs of light seeming to stare back from the black water.
Riona paced, her voice a low murmur as she spoke, while Rhosyn remained by Eirin’s side, the smooth wood of her bow ready.
Although the night passed without further incident, sleep evaded them all.
The next morning, they readied for the long journey home.
They sat down, the rough wooden benches cool beneath them, and forced down breakfast. The smell of frying bacon and stale mead hung in the air.
Across the room, Circle members from the coast, their sun-kissed skin gleaming, sat a few tables over, eyes fixed.
A hushed tension filled the air. A figure rose and approached, exchanging glances, her polished boots echoing on the floor.
She was flanked by a wiry younger man, whose sun-streaked hair glinted in the morning light.
“You’re Commander Nethran’s people, aren’t you?” the woman asked.
Sorcha nodded, gesturing for her to sit. “That’s right. I’m Sorcha. This is Riona, Rhosyn, Eirin, and Emry. And you?”
“Lieutenant Elenna,” the woman replied, glancing back at her companion. “This is Cadet Loran. We’re part of the Coastal Circle.”
There was a beat of silence before Elenna leaned forward. “I hope I’m not overstepping, but I couldn’t help but notice…” She trailed off, searching for the words. “You all look like you got little sleep. Was it the singing?”
Sorcha froze, her grip tightening around her mug. “You’ve heard it too?”
Elenna nodded grimly. “It’s been happening for weeks now. It always happens at night. Fishers say it comes from the deep waters, a mournful sound that carries on the wind. A few men have gone missing, and so have boats.”
Riona cut in, her tone on edge. “Why hasn’t this been reported? Something like this should’ve gone straight to the elders.”
Loran shifted uncomfortably, avoiding her gaze. “We tried. But the elders dismissed it as nonsense, superstition from tired sailors. We’ve been handling it on our own, but it’s getting worse.”
Emry leaned forward, his expression thoughtful, though unease flickered in his blue eyes. “If it’s been happening for weeks, have you seen it? Or anything that might explain it?”
Elenna stiffened. “Not directly. But there’s been evidence. Drag marks near the water’s edge. Fishing nets shredded like paper. And sometimes, when the fog rolls in, you see shapes. Things that shouldn’t be there.”
A chill ran through the group. Sorcha glanced at Rhosyn, who frowned deeply. “We ran into creatures last night,” Sorcha admitted quietly. “Kelpie. It nearly dragged Eirin and Emry into the water.”
Her voice trailed off, but Riona picked up where Sorcha left off, her tone tight and low. “It wasn’t just Eirin. The kelpie got to Emry, too, just not as quickly. We pulled them back before…” She stopped, her hands curling into fists against the table.
Elenna’s expression darkened. “A kelpie? This far inland? I don’t like what that implies.”
“What does it imply?” Eirin asked, his voice hoarse from the night before.
Elenna hesitated, glancing at Loran before speaking again, her voice quieter. “It means something’s driving them from their territories. Powerful enough to disrupt creatures that normally stay far from the shores. If they’re targeting people.“
“It’s not just kelpies,” Loran added, his voice barely above a whisper. “We’ve seen other things. Shadows in the water. Things with too many eyes. The sea isn’t safe anymore.”
Emry exhaled slowly, his fingers drumming against the edge of the table. “If what you’re saying is true, it’s more than just a local superstition. This will spread, displacement of creatures like kelpies isn’t exactly subtle.”
Riona shot him a glare, her voice tight with worry. “You think it’s deliberate?”
“I think we’d be foolish not to consider it,” Emry replied. His gaze flicked back to Elenna. “Why are you telling us this?”
Elenna’s expression was grim. “Because no one else is listening.”
Eirin hadn’t spoken since the harbor. He sat stiffly, his knuckles white against the mug’s handle. Sorcha knew that look. Emry, too, sat more still than usual, his normally animated expression subdued.
Their conversation ended abruptly as another Coastal Circle officer approached, her expression neutral but her eyes moving between the two groups.
Elenna straightened, her professional mask slipping back into place.
“If you learn anything,” she said, her voice carefully measured, “you’ll let us know, won’t you? ”
Sorcha nodded. “You have my word.”
As Elenna and Loran rejoined their group, Riona leaned back in her chair. “Well. That’s not ominous at all.”
The weight of the conversation hung heavy as they finished their meal and prepared to leave Glenn na Mara.
Though the morning sun glittered on the sea, a lingering sense of unease followed them as they rode away from the city, the haunting melody of the night before still echoing in Sorcha’s mind.
Eirin rode beside her, silent. She wanted to say something. But words felt too small for what had happened. So instead, she nudged her horse closer, close enough that her knee brushed his to let him know he wasn’t alone.