scares me. I’m terrified it will consume me and that I will become just as bad as those who caused me so much pain and suffering in the first place.
“What about all the innocents?” I finally manage, my voice breaking. “So many would get caught in the crossfire.” Images flash through my mind—Jayne, Wilson, Aileen, Elier, Kaelir, the sea elf who I helped back at Galandell, and all the nameless slaves in Arhaven. They are the reason I need to keep that anger contained. They are the innocents who don’t deserve to be hurt in all this.
“There are always innocent casualties in war,” the forest witch replies sagely with a shrug of her delicate shoulders.
“War.” The word hits me like a physical blow. My chest is tight. Feeling Tor’s hand tighten on my shoulder, I glance at him and realise I was about to step forward, to get closer to the creature. Looking back at her, I can’t hide the sorrow in my voice. “Is that what this is all leading to?”
Her expression changes now, and that worries me more than anything. “I think you know the answer to that already, Alina.” There’s a pause as she watches me, then something changes. “You need to leave now,” she orders, her body seeming to grow as she shifts forward, her smile returning, but it’s got a hungry glint to it. “You have a long journey ahead of you, and I need to hunt. Thanks to you, I have lost my evening meal.”
The dancing fae. They must have been her…meal. I remember how I had been drawn to her when she was singing, and how the fae had been dancing around her, her magic forcing them to do her bidding. Tor and Vaeril start to slowly back away, and I begin to follow, but something shifts in the pond at the creature’s feet.
A kelpie. It looks different than the ones I met in the lake by Galandell. This one is darker in colour, more of a murky green, and as he rises out of the water, he looks too large to fit in the pool. One thing that is the same, though, is the fury in its eyes.
“Clarissa!” I hear Naril call out. It’s the first time I’ve heard him speak since I left the path, but I realise he must have been watching from beyond the barrier.
The kelpie’s ears flatten against his head as he turns to glare at Naril, baring his teeth as he roars at him, the sound more like something I would expect from a dragon than a water creature. I don’t take my eyes from the kelpie, but I assume that Naril stops because the creature turns his attention back to me.
“The kelpie won’t hurt her,” Vaeril assures him quietly.
As I step forward towards the creature, I wish I was as confident as Vaeril was. The kelpie watches me, and I can feel his anger and hatred, but I keep going, lifting my hand. Stopping just a few paces from the edge of the pond, I am wholly aware of the fact he could easily grab me and drag me into the pool, pulling me to my watery grave. The forest witch is watching the whole exchange with interest, her eyes burning into my skin. Standing there, hand raised, I just wait, praying to the Mother that I’m not making a huge mistake. After what feels like a lifetime, the kelpie finally lowers his head and presses his forehead into my hand.
It’s an odd feeling, like touching ice but without the cold seeping into my skin. Last time I communicated with a kelpie, it sent me pictures, images, but this time, I hear a voice very clearly in my mind. Don’t forget your promise to my brother, he reminds me. He doesn’t threaten me, he doesn’t have to, I have a healthy enough fear of him as it is, of their endless hunger, but I know that if I was to go back on my word that I would pay for it. I remember the kelpie I met in the lake. He was separated from his family by a magical dam, and I promised I would try and find a way to free him.
The kelpie pulls away and stares down at me. Keeping my eyes locked with his, I nod my head one. “I haven’t forgotten.” This seems to be what he was waiting for, as he slowly sinks back into the water until only his red,