Gil takes a seat next to Rosie as if noticing her for the first time. He looks her over, his eyes widening and fins flaring as he clears his throat. “You’re a human.”
“And under our protection,” I say, taking a spot behind her. I lay my clawed hands on her shoulder.
“Yes, yes, good but…” His face softens. “I don’t presume y’all all know each other, but do you—have you ever been to Florida?”
“Just on my honeymoon,” she squeaks. “Is there a reason? Or … I’m sorry, I’ve never met a fish person before.”
“But a blonde—know any of them?”
“Um…” She looks at me and Holly as if asking for permission to give him information. We nod. I don’t see how this is relevant; therefore, it cannot hurt.
“A name would be helpful.” She laughs nervously running her fingers through her red hair.
“Marina.” He says it like it’s music, mournful and sweet, and in that moment, I know the two of us have something in common. A desperation to get back to the women we love.
Rosie shakes her head. “I’m sorry…”
“It was a long shot.” He smiles, shaking his head. His gaze returns to mine. “I’ll help you get back to Heather as best as I can. What do y’all need?”
“Can you get us through the wards?” I ask. If Gil is as close to the vampire king as he says, it stands to reason he would know how to reach him.
He pauses thoughtfully.
“I’ve been invited into his domain before. I should have access, though I can’t guarantee it. Once I got this pounding to stop, I was going to take a trip to the springs and see if I can get anywhere. I suppose I can pull myself together earlier.” He moves toward the door, picking up a small token that looks oddly familiar.
A gasp leaves my lips. It’s a piece of that silly little Mothman keychain my flame picked up at the festival of my likeness. A smile rises on my lips. Has she truly been carrying around the token this whole time?
“This has gotta be hers, right?” Gil asks with a grin. “It’s broken, but it might help us get directly to her. A personal item, recently carried, can break down wards to track someone—but I can’t guarantee anything.” He swings the keychain between his fingers.
And my heart leaps at the idea.
Without any further convincing, Gil dives into the water. We follow from the air, Rosie secure in my arms and holding on for dear life.
We glide past the crystal-clear water until we reach an area that is steeped in reeds and muck. He leads us to an alcove that appears to be some sort of lagoon.
It’s being guarded by two gill people who wave our new friend in easily—it seems he has enough standing in this community to not be questioned. I would have thought it would be difficult to gain access to a place of magic and power.
Behind a curtain of Spanish moss, a glowing portal sits. Gil untangles something—a small key that looks like it has a thread of red hair wrapped around it. It’s a gift, I assume—like giving a trusted friend a house key to water your plants when you leave town. He holds it tight, stepping into the rippling water—andnothing.
The surface remains as firm as glass.
“Bastard locked me out,” Gil groans, knocking on the surface. It seems that, in the short time Magnus has been back in his castle, he has changed the locks.
“Let’s try Heather’s charm,” he suggests, moving out of the way. “I’ll stay back and keep an eye out—see if there’s anything I can do to get through to Magnus, literally or figuratively.”
“And if Heather and the vampire return here, do not let them leave,” I add, regretting how sharp the command sounds when he has shown us nothing but generosity.
I am not good at this.
“I didn’t intend to last time, and I won’t let ’em get away again—” He offers a solemn nod, still nursing the wound on his head with ice. “If it comes to it, y’all rally the land; I’ll rally the water—we don’t take to getting involved with the drama of the fae folk, but… well, if I get to him first, I’ll try to talk sense into him again before you beat it out of him.”
“Thank you.” I nod, the curt gesture a sharp contrast to his familiar way of speaking.
Holly and Gil quickly strategize: missives will be sent to the palace detailing our progress. Mother is most adept in portal travel, and while it seems old-fashioned in a world of cellphones, it will have to do.
I clutch the broken keychain in my hand, gulping as I test the waters of the portals—it gives, with the ripples and shine of magic, and hope swells in my chest.
“It appears to be working,” I say, forcing myself to wait for my friends to gather at my side before jumping in alone. It is torturous, but only lasts seconds before they ready themselves and we join hands.
