Page 57 of Ballad of Sea and Sky

“Then I owe you one favor that is within my power to grant,” I agreed, hoping the condition would be acceptable and go mostly unnoticed. “And a kiss.”

The kelpie made a sound, the watery equivalent of a neigh in my mind, and several of its herd dove beneath the water. I reached out with my magic, sensing them swimming north and then returning more slowly.

Caspian was tossed from the water unceremoniously, his wings a waterlogged mess behind him and his chest unmoving.

“Cas,” I shouted, falling to my knees next to him and coaxing the water from his lungs for the second time. It emerged as a dribble, not the violent cough I was hoping for, and his chest didn’t move. I whirled back on the kelpie, finding the leader studying me with dark, watery eyes. “You promised he would be unharmed.”

You owe us a kiss, the kelpie pointed out, flicking its serpentine tail so that water sloshed over my bare feet.We will claim the favor later.

“Fine,” I snapped, rising to my feet and approaching the water horse, whose eyes widened in surprise. I pressed my lips to his wet muzzle, and another burbling laugh erupted from him.

Not me, Little Goddess,the kelpie laughed, his herd making the burbling laughing sound along with him.Bestow your kiss on him. Breathe life into him.

“Oh,” I said, feeling oddly abashed at having been rebuffed by a water horse. “Right.”

I returned to Caspian’s side, pushing him onto his back and feeling for any last drops of foreign water left in him. Before I lost my nerve, I tilted his head back and pressed my lips to his, breathing into him as he had magically forced air into me. His chest rose and fell. Then nothing.

Again, the water horse commanded.He has been suspended by our magic for several hours. It will take more than a single breath.

“You drowned him,” I accused again, fighting back tears. The kelpies couldn’t know that drowning was my greatest fear, and I swiped the tears away angrily. “You promised he would be unharmed.”

The kelpie neighed almost sympathetically, brushing a wet nose to my shoulder.And so he shall, Little Goddess,it said, more gently than it had spoken before.But you must breathe the life back into him. Desire it, and it will be so.

I turned back to Caspian, breathing air into him again, his chest rising and falling once more and then remaining still. Again, I gave him my breath, over and over, until I practically gasped for air myself.Please, Mother Sea and Father Sky, and any gods out there. Let him live.

Caspian’s chest rattled as he took in a shuddering breath of his own, and I sobbed in relief. I hadn’t felt the tears falling in a steady stream down my cheeks, but now I wept as the panic and fear and relief and confusion over all of my twisted feelings exploded in a wave of emotion.

He pulled me down to him, his lips rising to meet mine in a kiss more fierce than the one on the beach, and more fraught with emotion than any kiss I had ever experienced. “Don’t cry, Urchin,” he murmured, his lips leaving mine for only a moment before he pulled me back down to him.

For a moment there was nothing but the cold wind and Caspian, and his mouth pressed against mine, his tongue brushing the seam of my lips. This time I opened, welcoming him in with the fierce relief that he was alive, and damn the consequences. We would deal with them later.

A watery neigh made him start, and he pulled me away from the water’s edge. “Get back,” he croaked, eyes blazing in fury at the kelpies, who regarded us with what I sensed to be singular amusement.

“It’s fine,” I said, laying my hands against his chest placatingly. “They won’t hurt me.”

“They dragged me into that stream,” Caspian growled, rising and brandishing the abalone shell.

A small part of me wanted to tell him how ridiculous he looked brandishing a sharpened piece of shell at a creature made of water and magic, but an angry neigh from the kelpies forced me to reconsider my priorities.

Tellhim to stand down, Little Goddess, the kelpie neighed at me,or we will have to drown him again.

“You will do no such thing,” I admonished, glaring at the water horse. “You and I have a bargain, and his safety is part of it.”

The kelpie neighed irritably, but my attention returned to Caspian. He was staring at me slack-jawed, the shell he brandished falling limply to his side. “You can talk to it?”

I am a him, the kelpie replied indignantly.And I have a name.

“Well he doesn’t know that, since you drowned him before introductions could be made,” I snapped, head reeling a bit at the fact that I was scolding a mythical water horse. I turned back to Caspian. “And yes, I can.” I frowned at Caspian, who was staring at me like I had lost my mind. “Can’t you?”

Caspian shook his head, pulling me close to him and away from the kelpie. “What did you give it, Marina?” he asked seriously, tucking me into a wing as if he could shield me from the water horse. “What was this bargain?”

“A favor,” I hedged, feeling a flush crawl up my neck. “And a kiss.”

Caspian’s eyes flashed, understanding and something molten swirling in them, as he turned back to the water horse. “Thank you for returning me,” he said, nodding his head at what I presumed to be the leader of the herd.

The kelpie bowed, bending a front leg and splashing his tail so that we were soaked once again.I am Rannoch,he neighed, his watery voice filling my mind so loudly and completely that I couldn’t believe Caspian didn’t hear him.And you owe us a debt. Return tomorrow to pay it.

With a splash that soaked the banks of the stream so thoroughly the sandy ground turned to mud, Rannoch and his herd were gone.