Page 39 of Why Broken Wings Fray

His hair was trying with all of its might to separate out of the bun he had it tied so tightly in, and his eyes were wide and already raw from the salty water that irritated them, but he was there. And he had his signature grin on his face, just as he threw two thumbs up at me.

“Are you alright?” he called, except his mouth didn’t move.

My mouth, on the other hand, fell open.

“Olivia, are you alright?” he called again as he started to paddle, kicking furiously with his feet until he was right in front of me, shaking my shoulders as if to jolt me back to life.

“You’re talking but – oh!”

I told my mouth to say the words, just like I did normally, except my mouth didn’t. I heard the words, as if I had spoken them, yet they did not take form on my lips with the eager push of my tongue.

“Yes,” he chuckled, even his laugh appearing without his mouth making the shape necessary. “The rings.”

I glanced down at the sapphire on my right ring-finger, the light of it sharper and stronger beneath the water as it shimmered and emitted a soft sort of hum.

“The Mar’Rugadh cannot speak underwater,” Killian continued as I stared at the strange piece of jewellery. “So they found other ways to communicate.”

I needed to stop letting my mouth fall open, because every time that it did, I was met with a mouthful of salty water. “It’s magic! Oh my, I’m talking to you with magic!”

I loved his laugh. “Sure!”

“How… how does it work?”

“Who knows,” he said. “Magic, like you said!”

I shook my head several times, allowing the whimsy that was Killian to settle into my bones for good. My smile matched his, something that I would forever be thankful for, before he nodded at me and motioned for us to go.

I forgot that we were here for a reason, which meant that I certainly forgot we would need to swim.

“How are the two of you faring?” Bryn’s voice appeared, her body not quite visible with all of the bubbles around us.

The evidence of quick movement in the water started to settle, a second at a time, until we could see her in front of us once more. Except she had changed.

Another mouthful of salt-water dominated my mouth as I gawked.

The pixies, and Saoghal, had always been beautiful, magnificent, and impressive beyond comprehension. But the pixies of Uisge? The Mar’Rugadh?

They were muses.

There was no better way to explain them, to describe the rush of awe that flooded me as I looked at this creature in front of me.

Her legs were no more. Instead of the long, slender legs of blueish hue that she had only moments prior, Bryn’s skin continued from her waist as a long, muscular tail. The scales along it were continuous with an even pattern, each one glistening against the light that penetrated the water. That, and the light that emanated from Bryn. It was as if fireflies had been placed beneath her skin, casting her entire body in an ethereal glow that was a similar colour to that of her skin.

Her hair, which was wet and would make sense to flow behind her, instead worked against every law of physics known to man. It settled against her shoulders as if we were on land, curling itself into graceful waves that matched that of the movements above us.

She twisted her body side to side, shaking as if to rid herself of a tremor. Except what she was doing was ridding herself of all evidence of the human world and the need to walk on land. Her tail whipped aggressively in the water, sharpening the dual fins on the end of it to lethal points, just as the shirt that had been around her torso melted away from her and left the soft, leathery-like texture of her true skin which looked to be more like that of a shark’s than a human’s.

“Wow,” I gasped, unable to contain my sudden staring. Killian poked me, but I couldn’t help it. And I wasn’t sure I’d be able to apologize for it, not genuinely, as I continued to stare at her.

It made me wonder how many old tales of Sirens had actually been Mar’Rugadh pixies across the world. Because if she started singing, I might have followed her to my own death. Especially as she continued to pulse light like an underwater glow-stick.

From her mouth, which didn’t open, came a tune. It was high-pitched, sonic-like, and nearly split my eardrums. With a groan, I fought the desire to cover my ears, and instead turned my attention to what she was doing. Or, who she was summoning.

I had only seen these creatures on TV, while curled up on my couch, scrolling channels until the doom of it drove me into a sleep. Never in person, never so closely.

As they burrowed through the water, their movements swift and elegant, I understood exactly where they got their alternate names from. Because as beautiful and regal as they were, they were terrifying.

“You have miniature Orcas?” I accidentally asked, forgetting myself if only for a minute.