Browen cleared her throat, getting their attention. “I wish I had something else to help you, but clearly, I don’t. If you see more of my kind, they should help you on your journey, but there may be one or two who have gone rogue.”
Lyra stiffened at the warning. “We’ll be careful.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It took another three days to reach Loch Duich, which was enough time for Theo to learn he was an abysmal outdoorsman. Lyra had teased him ruthlessly for being a fae prince with so little aptitude for a journey through the wilderness, which Theo was all too happy to endure for the simple fact that it put a smile on her face.
Lyra spent most of the journey patrolling, monitoring the water for the slightest disturbance. Luckily, they were still in Scotland, and the blessings from both Calum and Nessie went far. After meeting Browen, they hadn't seen a single other soul. Theo wondered if that was odd, but Lyra didn’t seem to think so. Aquatic creatures were more solitary by nature and preferred to hide from people they didn't know.
Lyra had a very distracting habit of forgetting herself when she was around Theo, which was to say she often never bothered with a shirt, and the habit was proving hard to break.
“Um, Lyra.” Theo coughed awkwardly, turning a brilliant shade of red in the morning sunlight. He pointed feebly towards his own chest and darkened to a positively scarlet shade when Lyra answered only with a laugh. Emmett and then Lyra had both confirmed that her siren song had no lingering effect onhim. But he'd been struck dumb around Lyra since the moment he'd laid eyes on her, and the effect didn't seem to be going away. It was very confusing for Theo, struggling with the fear of his imminent death and lust simultaneously.
Lyra disappeared under the water and reemerged moments later, two oyster shells perched delicately across her chest.
“For your sensibilities,” Lyra smirked, a teasing tone in her voice that did almost as much for Theo as the sight of her topless.
“They're not only my sensibilities,” Theo grunted, still feeling self-conscious, “In society?—”
“In human society,” Lyra quipped, cutting him off. She flicked her tail, sending a perfect arch of water towards Theo, splashing him across the back of the head. “Which is one society I have no interest in.”
“Is that so?” Theo raised a brow. “Are there any others you would consider gracing with your presence?”
“At least you are starting to understand my presence is a gift.” Lyra smiled. It was a softer, almost delicate grin, and Theo nearly went to his knees. He tripped over a root instead, and blessedly, Lyra didn't comment this time.
“I wouldn’t mind hanging out with the baobhan sith,” Lyra continued, floating alongside Theo as he walked. “I’m sure we share some core principles.”
“I bet you do. Anyone else?”
“Let me think.” Lyra held her silence for a few minutes, and Theo found himself nearly holding his breath, praying for some reason she'd mention fae, as if that would be an endorsement of him.
“The fae, I suppose.” Lyra finally broke the silence, and Theo sagged with gratitude. Did she know that he was hanging onto every word that she said? Was his desperation, so sudden and all-encompassing, written across his face?
“There are a few good ones.” Theo tried to answer casually, tripping up over his words.
Lyra only smiled at him, and he considered it a glowing endorsement, some of his blush fading. The rest of the day went much of the same way.
Theo walked, and Lyra swam next to the water's edge. The river would thin down to a trickle, barely a stream, then swell again. The current seemed unpredictable to Theo, slowing down or speeding up without any warning. No matter how intense the current, or how lax, or how much water there was or wasn't, Lyra floated easily alongside him, as though she was sitting in an inner tube in a still pool.
Their conversation followed the pattern of the water, ebbing and flowing, at times heated and metaphorical, and occasionally slow and light-hearted. Everything out of Lyra's mouth could be a contradiction, the way she seemed so laissez-faire but spoke about most things with a fiery passion. Somehow, it all made sense to Theo, who couldn't imagine her any other way.
The sun began to set, and Theo started looking for places along the river to set up camp. He found a small clearing in the forest that went straight up to the water's edge and dropped his pack. It hit the ground with a thud, his accompanying groan telling Lyra he wouldn’t be walking another step.
“I suppose the jokes about your fae nature and woeful sportsman skills are overplayed now?” Lyra walked up the bank on two feet, a nearly translucent swath of fabric wrapped around her body that barely qualified as a dress by textbook definition.
“Yes,” Theo grunted, fumbling with a series of tent poles. He dropped them in frustration and ran his hand through his hair. “You know, it's not like being fae means I know how to set up a tent. I like nature. I adore being outside. But there is nothing,” he kicked at the tent pieces in good measure, “I mean nothing magical about this contraption.”
Lyra giggled, even though she hadn't the slightest idea how to put together a tent.
“It won't rain tonight.” She shrugged. “Sleep under the stars.”
Theo's hands were on his hips as he stared down at the mess of nylon and plastic. “I don't think I'm going to have a choice. How do you know it's not going to rain?” Theo picked his head up to where Lyra had already started a fire.
There has to be magic involved.Theo thought to himself, bitterly wondering if he'd ever pick up any magical aptitude whatsoever.
All fae had a magical inclination, but strengthening that muscle was like learning to speak another language or becoming a fencer. You had to practice. Most of Theo’s life had been spent on the run and firmly submerged in the human society around him. Magical lessons were completely off the table when the queen of banshees placed a curse on you.
“The water content in the air,” Lyra answered him, as if this were a perfectly normal thing to be able to detect.
