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He took them up, still joined, still clinging.
She felt the rush of air, the spin of the mist, the sway of the water. And him. And him.
When she peaked again, he went with her. So they floated down together.
She couldn’t claim to be cold now.
“You’ve been practicing that?”
He laughed against her throat. “Not all of that, no, but I imagined it well enough. I’ve been seeing how long I can stay under, and it’s longer each time. Longer by far now than even the day I took the sword, and on that day the water’s charmed for it. Not as fast as a Mer in the water, or an elf on the land, but faster on both than I was before I reached for it.
“Good training,” he said. “But this is a different matter, this with you, and a different gift.”
He cleared the mists enough she saw Bollocks onshore, and just how far out they were from it as he jumped in again.
“We’re really far out.” This time, she felt a lick of panic. “It’s too far for him to swim.”
“Sea dog he is, but we’ll meet him. I’m here if you tire, but I know from the river by the falls, you’re a strong swimmer. I’d say I’d race you, but it doesn’t seem fair.”
“Then give me a head start.”
She aimed toward shore, and thought she cut through the water cleanly enough. By the time she reached the dog, she saw Keegan streak by them, as fast as a fish.
“You might have to haul me in,” she told Bollocks, “since he’s busy showing off.”
Then she realized her feet touched the bottom. Treading water, she called out to Keegan, now standing back onshore.
“I’d appreciate that mist again before I get out.”
“The child of man in you worries too much about naked.”
He didn’t, she mused, as he stood naked, warrior’s body slicked with wet and gleaming in the evening sun.
She brought the mist herself before she walked out of the water.
She ran her hands through her hair to dry it as Keegan rubbed the wet from Bollocks. As they dressed, she studied him.
“You believe what you said before, that this is the time it ends, for all time.”
“I do. As I believe you won’t be asked to sacrifice your life to end it.”
“Why do you believe that?”
He shrugged. “Because that’s not how it ends.”
“How does it end?”
“With Odran destroyed, with Talamh at peace, with you living content in your cottage and writing your stories with the dog napping by the fire, with Brian and Marco just over there. With you coming through the portal into Talamh as you please.”
Her cottage—that struck hard. Hers, not theirs.
“A happy ending.”
“Not for Odran. For the rest of us, why shouldn’t it be? You’re the key, and when you open the lock, it’s done. We’ll fight so that you can, and some will fall. It’s enough. It’s bloody well enough, Breen, and that’s what I believe. And believing’s what makes magicks strong. So believe.”
“I’ll work on that.”
She wanted to tell him she loved him, but held back. Not from fear, she realized, but for much the same reason she’d had to stop him from telling Shana’s parents of her death.
