Page 35 of The Unkindest Tide

“Mostly the latter,” said the Luidaeg. “I once attended a Merrow wedding that was three days of the wedding party punching each other. It might have gone on longer, but the guests felt left out and staged a siege.”

“Who won?” I asked.

She grinned toothily. “They were all so busy punching each other that they forgot to guard the cake. So, really, I did.”

I shook my head. “Right.”

Dean embraced his mother, still laughing. I took that as a sign that it was safe to approach: Dianda probably wouldn’t have let him get that close if she’d been considering the virtues of a second assault.

Patrick didn’t seem to notice our arrival. He kept staring at Poppy, and as I got closer, I saw the tears running down his cheeks—and hers. Poppy’s tears glowed with a pale orange light, much like her body used to, back when she’d been a true pixie and not one of the Aes Sidhe. Patrick’s tears were just tears, saltwater shed and returning to the ocean, where all such things belong.

Dianda released Dean and whirled on me, reaching out to initiate another hug. Then she froze, eyes going to a point behind me, and I swallowed a sigh. She’d seen the Luidaeg. Of course she had.

“We’re here because the Luidaeg called a Convocation,” I said patiently. “I think it makes sense that she’d be here.”

“Right,” said Dianda. The playful violence she’d been displaying when we arrived was gone. Her voice was faint; she looked like she was considering the virtues of passing out.

Under any other circumstances, it might have been amusing to see the normally brash Merrow rendered silent and on the edge of shaking. Maybe. I don’t necessarily enjoy seeing my friends and allies suffer. Sure, they don’t always extend the same courtesy to me, but part of being a hero is learning how to rise above.

“What’s with Patrick?” If I could distract her, she might stop staring past me with that mixture of longing and dismay in her eyes, like she wanted nothing more than to reach for the Luidaeg, knowing with absolute certainty that if she did, she’d pay for her impertinence.

Dianda glanced at her husband and some of the dismay left her face, replaced by fondness. She really did love him. They’d been married for more than a hundred years, and she still looked at him like he was the greatest treasure in all of Faerie. I hoped I’d still look at Tybalt like that after we’d been together for a century.

“The tall orange woman, whose name is ‘Poppy,’ apparently used to be a pixie,” she said. “Did you know pixies could turn into full-sized people? Because I didn’t.”

“I didn’t either, until Poppy did it,” I said, all too aware of Tybalt and the Luidaeg at my back. Neither of them had said anything. I was surprisingly grateful for that. “She’s Aes Sidhe now. She gave up whatever it is that makes a pixie a pixie willingly, to save Simon Torquill.”

Patrick jerked a little, his hands tightening on Poppy’s until she grimaced. He loosened his grip. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” she said, and smiled radiantly through her tears. “You’re here and alive and looking at me and I can talk to you, and that’s about the better part of everything. I can go back to the swarm and tell Lilac I saw you.”

His eyes widened, and the rest of us were forgotten again. “Lilac? She’s alive?”

“Alive and thriving and still flying sure and strong.”

Patrick’s laugh was small and choked. He turned to Dianda. “Lilac is the pixie whose wing I repaired, back when we were first courting. The little girl, the one who’d been injured by someone looking to collect lights for a garden party.”

“I remember.” She turned to Poppy, bowing her head in respectful acknowledgment. “It’s very nice to finally meet you. I’m sorry to have stolen Patrick away.”

“We didn’t forgive for long and long, but I suppose forgiveness is the thief in the afternoon sometimes, stealing your anger away when you’re not paying attention,” said Poppy. “He looks healthy and seems happy, so all has been forgiven as far as I’m concerned.”

“Did you really give up your home to save Simon?” asked Patrick.

I grimaced and stepped forward, placing a hand on his arm. “That’s a long story, and maybe this isn’t the best time for it,” I said. “I promise, though, I’ll explain everything. I should probably have explained everything a while ago.”

“First, though, the Selkies,” said the Luidaeg, finally inserting herself into the conversation. She focused her attention on Dianda. “Are we going to have a problem?”

“Are you going to turn me into a shadow on the surface of the sea?” asked Dianda.

“I could,” said the Luidaeg. “Was that a request? Or are you asking me not to?”

“I have a husband, two sons, and a Duchy to take care of, so I’d prefer to remain a Merrow, if that’s all right by you,” said Dianda. She took a breath, visibly composing herself. “It is . . . difficult, looking at you, knowing the sea did so poorly by one of its Firstborn that you left us for the land. We don’t have many left to us.”

“Um, Mom?” said Dean.

“In a second, honey,” said Dianda. She kept her eyes on the Luidaeg, wary as a predator whose territory has been invaded. Which, in a way, was exactly the case. “I was raised to worship you, Lady. I was raised to offer you the best part of a kill and the sweetest fruit of the harvest, to do whatever was required to keep your wrath from the tides that rock my people. So please forgive me if I don’t know how to talk to you. You’re . . . daunting.”

“See, this is why I left the sea,” said the Luidaeg, turning to me. “They’re nice people and all, but they can’t forget what I am. They can’t just let me be a monster.”