“Now where was I…”
I cross my arms around my chest, warding off the sudden chill. “The kelpies.”
“Ah yes! The kelpies. Their origin is laced in myth. Some say they are the unnatural consequence of wayward spells from the Fomorians. Some say they’re the unwanted babies that were cast into the water. But alas, how they came to be doesn’t sate their hunger for the living. Then there are the selkies, the benevolent counterparts to the kelpies. Wearing the skin of beautiful sea dwellers, the females have a green tint to their skin from their scales. Their voices seemingly come from the heavens. The males of that species appear blue when they’re not wearing the soft skin of seals. They’re harmless unless threatened. The blue men have been known to be violent when protecting their females or offspring. There are tales that they have lured maidens to the shores to take as their brides. My advice to you—if you see a ripple in the water, it’s best to stay away. Either would want to keep you, for a meal or a bride, Your Majesty.”
His mention of the Fomorians has questions dredging up to the surface of my mind. “Dragut—do you know any other stories about the Fomorians?”
“I know stories. Whether they’re truth or not, I cannot say.”
“I’d like to hear them.” My sudden interest has him smiling broadly.
He rubs his palms together, preparing to launch into the tales. “The Fomorians are sea Fae. Some say they’re disfigured hideous beings, some say that’s merely a disguise and that they’re as beautiful as any other Fae. I tend to believe the latter.”
There’s a hint of sorrow in his eyes, but he proceeds. “Long ago, they battled the Tuadanaan Fae over the Emerald and White Isles in the human realm. The Fomorians sought to have a foothold in the human realm to enslave the humans as they launched a larger war, you know, as the Great War.”
I nod, my shoulders slumping forward.
“You heard of all that before, haven’t you?”
I smile sadly. “Yes, Mathilda told me that part already.”
“Aye, but do you know the Fomorians and the Tuadanaans come from the same family?”
I scrunch my brow in confusion, shielding my eyes from the sun that breaks through the cloud above us.
“The same family?”
“Danu, the mother goddess, is responsible for their creation, but the male god responsible has long been a mystery. The Tuadanaans called him Dagda, which means the Father God.” A scowl tugs my brows together with that tidbit of information. “Strange that we call Odin the same thing.” I purse my lips, thinking through the insinuation, but he continues. “Come to think of it, many creature origins are similar. A Father god creating children with a goddess. Maybe there’s just one Father, and that’s why so many of us from different cultures and religions ended up here.”
There might be a bit of truth in his words, seeing as lots ofreligions have the same stories but with different names. Could it be that Odin and Danu created the Fomorians and the Tudanaans?
For a brief moment, the only sounds come from the crew at work and the gentle hum of a shanty tune.
“They say the Tuadanaans and the Fomorians split because the two brothers betrayed each other. One who was light-headed with a sunny disposition, while the other was dark-haired and surly. No one knows who betrayed whom, but the impact of that betrayal has lasted millennia. A few have mingled mixing the blood between the two families, but they’re considered outliers as most continue to observe the fracture. Legend claims that only a truly powerful birth will bridge the gap, bringing the two halves together. But you wanted to hear about the creatures that dwell here, didn’t you, not the boring political stuff?”
My eyes burn, either from the salty air or the familiarity of his words. How similar they are to the stories I used to hear from my father. Stories about magical kingdoms and mythical creatures were always my favorite, but only after I had suffered through the boring lectures on honor, loyalty, and family.
It’s amazing how even now, as an adult, that hasn’t changed. I wish my father were here. He would love to be on the sea right now, listening to Dragut’s stories and telling stories of his own. One of his favorite stories begins to surface in my mind about a magical kingdom that’s hidden in the water that would one day be shrouded in fog.
“You don’t happen to know of any kingdoms that appear on the water, do you?”
He taps a gnarled finger to his forehead, scrunching his eyes shut as he thinks.
“Yes, there is one kingdom that fits that description—Toraigh.”
That name clangs through me.Toraigh.Where have I heard that before?
But the feel of eyes upon my skin has my head whipping around to find two emeralds blazing in the sunlight. Lachlan wraps a large rope around his palm and elbow. The muscles of his biceps flexing with the rotation have my mouth drying up. His gaze locks onto mine, not once looking away from my face. My skin flushes and my heart beats rapidly in my chest.
A loud splash has me whirling back around to peer over the wooden rail of the ship.
“Get back!” Dragut shouts, pulling me roughly away from the edge.
A purple scaled head the size of a horse breeches the water. Its snout blowing a spray of frigid salt water onto the deck. Its eyes blaze amber with flecks of onyx around the slitted pupils that are narrowed on me. Spikes of ruby glow from behind the enormous head and large transparent wings have the sea dragon keeping pace with the ship. This dragon is almost twice the size of the last sea dragon we saw on the way to Scota.
Stillness grips the ship. The crew is frozen in fear at the dragon that now studies the people on deck behind me.
“Kahrestin,” Dragut whispers from behind me. “Sea dragons never come this close to our ships.”
