Page 40 of Why Broken Wings Fray

Three of them floated towards us, a somewhat sad yet beautiful noise coming from them as Bryn swam closer. She did not answer my question, but Killian did.

“Remember what I told you before?”

“Not to gawk?”

“No,” he laughed.

That was Raegan, right.

“That the animals of this world understand us, and some choose to take to our size in order to coexist with us.”

“Mini chickens and mini cows,” I mumbled, remembering all too clearly the day I had seen them for the first time. “And now… Mini fish?”

“Mini fish.”

“Come, land-walkers,” Bryn called over her shoulder to us as she ran a hand along the curved snout of the black-and-white beast in front of her. “I could make the swim myself, but I fear your legs will give out on you before we are even halfway to the palace.”

Reassuring.

Now this part, I knew. And I wasn’t so proud that I couldn’t admit I loved it. I loved the premise of it, the sanctity of it, the purity and the innocence in asking the animals to be caraid.

Bryn started us off, whispering her soft question and earning her a bump of the orca’s snout to her chest. She laughed, running a hand along the skin beneath his eye, before she lay herself down on his back, having no legs to cling to him with and instead grabbing his fins.

“Ever partnered with an orca?” I asked Killian as he paddled closer.

“This would be a first,” he admitted, his smile slowly slipping off as he approached the magnificent creature. It let out another melodic, sorrowful whale-song for him as he drew nearer.

“Caraid?”

We both waited in the suspense of it as the orca regarded him, until he eventually released a happier, shriller noise before bumping into Killian. My pixie of the woodlands grinned, ear-to-ear, looking back at me to see if I was watching.

With a swiftness that only made Killian far more impressive, he moved to its side and found a seat upon it.

I looked at the last of them and gulped.

My hand was only bubbles away from touching the flattened side of his face, when the water around us violently shifted. Everything moved downwards and sideways simultaneously, as if something heavy and angry had descended over top of us.

Which was exactly what had happened.

There was a blur of colour, so fast and so indistinguishable that I could do nothing but squeal and shoot sideways awkwardly. Then the colour blurred again, this time somewhat grey against the blueness of the ocean and the blackness of the depths beyond.

And at last it settled, a dolphin of a grey so rich that it would have been easier to call it silver. Two large, molten eyes blinked from the creature as it once again made a vicious circle around us, causing the three orcas to grow more unsteady with every pass it made.

I needed to develop caraid quickly if we were to get away. So I swam closer to the orca in front of me, his eyes wide and panicked, and hoped I wouldn’t become fish food with my quick movements.

“C–”

“Do not!”

Now that was a voice I would never not know. That was a voice that I was sure I would never be rid of.

“Urram?” I squeaked, swimming away just in time to avoid another pass of the silver dolphin.

“You are mine,” he growled, his voice still ancient and ragged like that of his dragon form. But his body, that shimmering silver and molten appearance, I had only just realized why the colour of the dolphin was so familiar.

“You are joking!” Killian roared out, his laughter following quickly after.

“What is it? What is happening?” Bryn asked as she prepared herself for some sort of fight.