I grind my teeth together, but I refuse to let him see how much he’s making me doubt myself. If he suggested something rather than shutting all my ideas down, this would probably go a lot faster.
“Fight our way out,” Maeve grins.
“That would be suicide,” Caed mutters, and Drystan actually hums his agreement. “Climbing is out of the question. We already considered that when we were trying to get into the city.”
I scrub my hand down my face. “What about?—”
“Company,” Mab snaps, staring beyond me. “Coming from the sea.”
The group snaps to attention so fast I get whiplash. They flip to their feet, all pretence of idleness abandoned, and the air rings with the sound of blades being drawn by both the living and the dead.
A ghostly white sword appears in the air before me, tip pointed skyward like a silent sentinel.
I didn’t imagine it earlier. Caed has his powers back.
But the Fomorian prince looks just as shocked as I do. He stares at it like he’s never seen it before. I don’t have time to puzzle out his reaction before a splashing sound breaks the serene atmosphere. The noise is at odds with the rhythmic rush of the waves, and it takes me a while to pinpoint the source further up the beach.
Three green-haired fae smash onto the shore like whales beaching themselves. They flop for a second, struggling to right themselves as the slick fish tails that cover their lower halves blister and shrink into legs. The fins that run down their spines and forearms melt away shortly afterwards, turning to sea foam.
It’s the most painful looking transformation I could imagine, and I find myself wondering if it’s worth it.
All three of them wobble their first steps, before collapsing onto one knee at the sight of me.
Merrows, I realise.They’re merrows. All three of them have hats in varying shades of red at their hips, tied on with rope.
That’s when I recognise their leader.
“Cyreus.” My hackles rise.
What is Ciara’s mate doing here? Is he tracking us for Eero? The merrow in question bows his head even lower.
“My lady Nicnevin, I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”
“Ciara took my head,” Drystan snarls.
“To spare me,” the merrow objects. “Máel has been blackmailing her sister ever since she discovered our relationship. If King Eero ever found out she mated an under fae, I would be executed.”
“You expect me to believe that?” Drystan demands. “If you were in such danger, why not leave? You’re both strong fae.”
The merrow’s hair drips water into his face, and he pauses to wipe it with a sigh. “You honestly think there’s a place in all the realm where he wouldn’t have hunted us? He has spies everywhere, and he can’t be killed. We wouldn’t have lasted a week.”
“His skin is invulnerable,” Mab mutters. “But he can still be killed. It’s just a little trickier.”
“Why would Danu give someone like him such a gift?” Titania mutters.
Maeve shrugs. “So we can make him swallow shards of iron until he dies and enjoy the satisfaction of a slow death?”
We all look at her, and she backs up, holding her hands up. “In my defence, the fae I did that toreallydeserved it.”
“We’re not going up against Eero,” I reiterate, trying to get us back on track. “Our people are injured, and we don’t have the numbers. This is a rescue mission, not an assassination. Afterthat, we head for the Autumn Court and focus on Elatha. Once the fae are safe, we can deal with him.”
Cyreus shakes his head. “Eero is not the sort of enemy you turn your back on, my lady.”
I know. But do I really have a choice?
The sigh that leaves my body is long and exhausted. “Do you have any other suggestions? There’s a Fomorian armada being created as we speak. Elfhame won’t last long enough for me to crush Eero, and I won’t make it back without my Guard.”
The merrows share a look between themselves, then nod. “If that is your will, then the merrows will see it done.”
