I remembered what the Merrow’s song sounded like, but his harmony was lost in the din.
Still, I had a way to home in on one particular person. I just needed a small sacrifice to the god of the sea.
Gods loved sacrifices.
I scrambled around on the seafloor until I found a sharp bit of seashell. I snatched it off the stones, then swam deeper into the cold ocean. Rays of moonlight streamed through the waves.
Basically, the gods were emotionally needy jerks who craved proof of devotion in the form of dead goats or precious jewels or virgins tossed into volcanos. They fed off drama and misery.
And yes, I could ask them to take me directly to this soul cage, but that wasn’t my true destination.
As it happened, I was fresh out of goats and virgins. But I could offer my own blood.
I took the shard of seashell and reached down to my thigh. I cut into it, wincing a little as the seashell sliced my skin. My blood pooled and clouded in the dark water.
I started to hum a melody—the song of the Merrow, stored in my brain after all these years.
God of the sea, help me hear this music I seek.
I hummed louder, picturing him as vividly as I could—his old, stooped form, a slouching red hat, his gnarled wooden staff.
I stared as my blood snaked through the water, and the music around me dulled to quiet.
At last, only one song remained—a multi-tonal chant. The Merrow’s song threaded through the water.
I couldn’t pinpoint exactly where he was, but I had a vague idea. Right now, we were on the southern coast of England, and the sounds were coming from the… northwest, I thought. Up along the west coast, maybe out in the Irish Sea? I was nearly positive.
I turned, swimming back to the shoreline. I should have felt ecstatic that I’d made progress. Get magic, find Merrow. Instead, I felt a dim sense of dread.
As I stepped from the ocean, I stared at the solitary figure on the shoreline. Ossian had left, and Salem stood alone. His dark wings, so like an angel’s, cascaded behind him.
The sight of a winged fae was a rare thing indeed. His dark feathers faded to a dusky violet at the tips, and streaks of fiery gold shot through them. Lonely and dramatic, the colors of twilight.
“Well?” he asked.
“Northwest. The closer we get, the easier it will be for me to tune in to the sound of his magic. I don’t suppose you can swim with those wings.”
“Swimming for days is not among my many talents. And that’s where you come in. I’ve just returned your immense power to you. What do you need to do to get us to the right place? Part the seas?”
“Part the seas? That would be disastrous for the sea life on the ocean floor. I mean, the coral alone—”
“What gave you the impression I would give a fuck about coral?” he asked.
“It wouldn’t get us to him anyway. I need to hear the music in the ocean. I have another way.”
“Wait.” His icy gaze slid to my thigh where I’d cut myself. Then his eyes flashed with pale blue. His entire body tensed. “Why are you bleeding?”
“A little sacrifice to the sea god. It’s fine.”
“Sacrifice…” He shifted over to me, a blur of darkness.
In the next moment, one of his hands was around my waist, and the other was coiled around my thigh, pulling it up. Healing magic slid over my leg, around my skin, and Salem stared at it as the wound closed up. Heat radiated from his body, and my pulse sped up.
“What are you doing?” I said. “It was a small cut.”
“No sacrifices.” His warm magic slowly caressed my skin.
I stared at him, dumbfounded. “That’s how the gods grant you things.” I enunciated it slowly, like I was talking to a child. “It’s how a lot of magic works.”
“No sacrifices,” he said again, fire flashing in his eyes. For a man so sophisticated on the outside, there was something distinctly bestial about him. “The gods don’t need you to prove your love. If you need more magic, I’ll give it to you.”
When my leg had healed, I pulled myself out of his grip. “Are you jealous of the worship the gods inspire?”
The warmth of his body contrasted sharply with the pure ice in his eyes. “You said you had another way to get us to the Merrow. Why don’t you show me now?”
I waded back into the sea, breathing in the briny air, and lifted my arms. Here, with the sea lapping at my legs, I could almost hear the forlorn bells of Ys. They’d tolled at high tide and low.
Magic raced through my body, and the sea sparkled before me with phosphorescence to rival the stars. I took another step deeper into the waves and swirled my hand before me, until the waters began to froth and heave.
Slowly, from the sea foam, a boat began to emerge, a gleaming mist billowing around it.
Wind filled a single square sail—shades of blue and gold. In the center of the sail, the symbol of the Meriadoc family was emblazoned—a horse, rising from a churning sea. Seashells dotted the side of the boat, arranged in curling forms. I gripped the side of the hull.
Then I turned to find Salem staring at me, a curious expression on his face.
I beckoned him to the boat. “Come on. Our ride is here.”
Without a word, he followed me to the sailboat and climbed inside. Seats lined the sides of the boat, and I sat in the prow. It would sail itself, with my mind guiding it.
When I looked up again at Salem, his wings had disappeared. He leaned back against the side of the boat, a smile on his lips, and pulled a flask from his pocket. He unscrewed it and took a sip. His eyes twinkled in the darkness. “And here we go. Let’s fix what you did all those years ago.”
Yes, let’s do that.
Let’s fix the mistake I made when I failed to drown you years ago along with your friend.
15
Salem
We drifted over the ocean waves, sea spray cooling my skin. As Aenor guided us expertly over the sea, I felt the winds rising faster around us. An electrical charge hung in the air. Aenor trailed her fingertips in the water over the side of the boat, her eyes on the skies. Avoiding me, probably.
Aenor shifted on the seat. She seemed a restless spirit, always moving, eyes always scanning.
Above us, dark clouds slowly slid over the moon and stars. The ocean waves grew choppier as we sailed, spray washing over us.
In the distance, I heard the sound of crows cawing wildly. Hundreds of them, it sounded like.
And that would be the Isle of Crows. Aptly named.
I glanced down at Aenor’s feet. Barefoot in the boat, one foot tapping. She’d discarded her shoes somewhere. Catching sight of me looking at her, she sat up straight. Her gaze flicked to the ring at my finger, glowing with her magic. It was strangely intoxicating—the smell of it, the feel of it sliding over my skin. A perverse part of me wanted to see her wield all of her magic with complete abandon.
I held up my hand with her glowing ring.
“You’ll get it back,” I said quietly. I wasn’t sure why I was promising this to her when I planned to kill her.
One moment I was thinking of killing her. The next I was thinking of imbuing her with all her magic and sending her off on a rampage.
“I have enough for now.” Her large blue eyes were on the cloudy sky. “I’m not sure all that magic is meant for me.”