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Webs. She had webbed hands and feet.
Juliana’s fears had long since vanished. She glided through the water with ease, deeper and deeper, till the sands dropped away and another world opened before them, miles of ink-black coral swirling with silver fish.
Serena slithered into sunbeams, rolling under the ripples, chasing lines on the sand. Juliana moved with her, eyes alight, and he found it difficult for his eyes to move elsewhere, like there was something more wondrous about watching her experience the world than seeing it for himself.
Once upon a time, he hated to see her happy, his gut turned nauseous by her enjoyment.
Now he felt like he cut off a limb to see her look that way at him.
He followed them through the current. They swam through reefs and wrecks, ancient boats more barnacle than bark. Although everything was covered with a veneer of blue, he found himself amazed by the colour blossoming here, corals alight with red and orange, like a sunset emerging from the rock. Sunlight blazed in ribbons along the sandy floor, huge rays cutting through the shoals of fish.
Eventually, the sea turned dark, a bank of cloud drifted overhead, and coldness that hadn’t been there before stung through the water.
Something white glared in the seabed beneath, an enormous, still thing, like a colossal centipede.
Jules buckled beside him, her eyes going from awed to panicked in a second.
Snake,they seemed to say.Snake, snake!
She spluttered to the surface, Serena and Hawthorn hurrying behind her.
“What’s wrong?” Serena asked, the second they met air.
Juliana’s face was white as bone. “I… um…”
“Perhaps she went a little too deep,” Hawthorn suggested. “I’ve heard mortal’s lungs and heads aren’t best designed for it.”
“Are you all right?” Serena asked softly. “We can go back—”
“I’m fine,” Juliana breathed, looking gratefully at Hawthorn. “What was that… I thought I saw…”
Serena grinned. “You asked for a sea monster.”
“A… a giant sea snake?” Hawthorn guessed.
Serena shook her head. “A seadragon.Couldn’t you see the wings? It’s an oilliphéist—the last of its kind. Have you not heard the stories?”
Hawthorn shook his head. Juliana still seemed to be recovering from the shock. “I have not. Pray, tell us.”
Serena lay back in the sea, basking in the warm glow of the sun, though the water beneath her still seemed dark and murky.
“His name was Caoránach,” she told them. “And he was the great lord of the sea. Centuries ago, when Faerie was still new, it is said that one of Titania’s granddaughters came down to shore and heard the creature singing. The two met for the first time, and, whether then or in a hundred years—the two fell in love. He planned to give her the Breath of the Sea so she could come with him beneath the waves, but a jealous knight saw the two of them together, and slew him.”
“Oh, that’s sad,” said Hawthorn.
Juliana, revived from her shock by the opportunity to tease him, raised an eyebrow. “I never knew you were romantic.”
“I can be romantic.”
She raised her eyebrow further.
“I couldn’t say it if it wasn’t true! I just prefer a happy ending, all right?”
“I don’t mind a sad ending,” Juliana admitted. “As long as it’s suitably epic. Tell me, Princess, was the battle glorious?”
“They say that Caoránach cleaved the Summer Isles from the cliffs with his struggle, and that Fiona’s cries cracked the very earth.”
Juliana’s eyes gleamed. “What happened to her? After the fight?”
