“Much of the tithe we gave you was with us for many years. Only the coins and some of the jewelry were from a recent shipwreck my people discovered far out to sea. From what you’ve said, I gather you know what that means.”
Perplexed at where he was going with this, I nodded. “It might have absorbed some of your magick?”
“It did absorb some of our magick. I’m sure your familiar has shared what she knows of our people with you, so this should not come as any surprise. While many of my people are not full-blooded, they still have magick. Some of them are more powerful than any full-blood because of this and would have been destroyed by their full-blooded family members because of this at one time in history, in order to keep the bloodlines pure.”
Okay, that didn’t even make sense. If they’d wanted to keep their bloodlines pure so badly, why didn’t they keep it in their pants? Or their skirts, I corrected myself. It’s not like men were the only ones that fooled around.
Olen’s eyes watched my face knowingly as these thoughts flitted through my head. Was he reading my thoughts or my reactions?
“Many had no choice, as they saw their people die or be killed off. They had to dilute their bloodlines with those of other types of fae, or even humans,” he said this like it was something distasteful, “or risk dying out completely. The land fae have experienced similar problems, as humans encroached on their lands, ruined their forests, and both humans and Turned witches hunted them to use for their magick. Many of my own people have been driven into unfamiliar waters difficult for us to thrive in.” He waved toward the river, his face hard. “We may be protected from magickal attacks here, but we pay a hefty price. We’ve been forced to adapt to muddy, polluted waters filled with predators in order to avoid being hunted by humans at sea. With the technology available to humans today, this grows more and more difficult. My colony’s size has nearly doubled in the last several decades as refugees from colonies destroyed by Turned witches or human hunters have joined us, even as the pollution and less-than-ideal habitat has affected our ability to reproduce. Our breeding seasons produce fewer and fewer offspring every year. When young are born, they don’t always make it past their first two years. Our children are precious to us.” His voice broke and the pain in his eyes as he said this was raw. He looked away, seemed to steel himself, then continued. “Our brief forays to the ocean are necessary for us to stay healthy, but every time we go, we risk ourselves and our anonymity.”
I felt appalled for my thoughts just moments ago. His people were fighting for their survival and my thoughts had gone to righteousness. I started to say something when he held up a hand.
“I do not tell you this for your pity. It is only to inform you that sometimes there are reasons for these things.” Two more splashes sounded and he closed his eyes, as if steeling himself. I leaned to the side to look around him and saw a pair of angry green eyes glaring at us from the middle of the river. Those eyes were in the middle of a beautiful, heart-shaped face framed by long, red tresses floating around her. As far out as they floated, I figured her hair must be nearly three feet long.
Tess asked in a stage whisper loud enough to carry, “Somebody please tell me that’s Ariel.” Another splash and the woman was gone.
To my surprise, Olen chuckled ruefully. “No, but you are close. That is my mate, Arella. She is often teased about her name. I think her parents must have either read or heard the stories.” His eyes, so pained when he told us of his people, warmed slightly. “She is fiery, so I would not tease her to her face until she gets to know you. When next we meet, I will bring her to the land with me.” He bowed to me. “But for now, I really must return to the water. Thank you.”
“Wait,” Rand spoke up from beside me. Olen straightened, watching Rand warily. “The bracelet, it did something to me. I was dead and it . . . brought me back somehow. Is that normal?”
Olen’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “You died and it brought you back to life?” he repeated slowly. “No, that is not normal by any means. How long were you dead for?” He looked Rand up and down, as if searching his body for something. “Were you badly wounded?”
Rand went silent. I reached out, barely stopping myself before I touched his arm. I pulled my hand away quickly. Olen’s eyes narrowed as he watched us. Licking my lips nervously, I said, “He died well over a year ago, I believe.”
“What?” Olen stepped back, incredulous. “That cannot be possible!”
I looked from Rand to Astra. Her eyes guarded, she nodded, pursing her lips.
“He was a ghost for some time before I met him. He was attached to Toby.” I pointed to the dog behind us, seeing him perk his ears up at the sound of his name. “Toby was Rand’s dog before he died. Now, he’s anchored—or he was, anyway—to me. He’s saved my life several times.”
“I still am,” Rand whispered. “I can feel it.”
“This is . . . quite a tale.”
Astra spoke. “It is true. I sensed him as a ghost when first we met, which I thought was unusual. That you sense fae blood in him explains why, I think. I sense it in him now, too. I know your kind are sensitive to such things. Everything Roxanne speaks is the truth. You feel it.”
