The Unkindest Tide (October Daye #13) - Seanan McGuire Page 0,50
everything. Blood of my blood, bone of my bone. I’ve never met your father, but I don’t need to meet him to know who he’s descended from. Your great-great-grandfather’s name was Aulay, and he died along with the rest of the Roane, and one of these people is wearing his skin tied around their bodies like a belt, and he deserved better, and so do you. I love you, Diva Ryan, but if you don’t take your hands off me right now, I will have to remove them from your body as a warning to everyone watching us. Please. Let go.”
Diva stumbled backward, staring at the Luidaeg. Her face had gone pale, freckles standing out like brands. “Annie?” she whispered.
“My name is Antigone of Albany, daughter of Maeve, daughter of Oberon,” said the Luidaeg. Her voice was soft, but it carried, oh, how it carried. All around us Selkies turned, faces wan and shoulders shaking as they beheld the instrument of their creation and destruction. “I am here to call the Convocation of Consequences.”
“Annie?” Diva whispered again, her voice breaking.
The Luidaeg looked at her with sorrowful eyes, and said, “Get your mother, Diva. It’s time.”
Diva turned and ran away across the strand, leaving the three of us standing there, surrounded by staring, shivering Selkies. I moved a little closer to Tybalt, who put his arm around my shoulders and didn’t say anything. There wasn’t anything to say.
EIGHT
THE FIRST PERSON TO approach us wasn’t Elizabeth Ryan, but a tall, distinguished man with dark skin and black hair shading to silver at the temples. Like Diva, he had freckles across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, mimicking a seal’s spots. Somehow, they failed to detract from his overall air of solemn dignity. He wore a brown linen suit, which seemed timeless to my modern eye, and was probably shockingly gauche to everyone older than me.
“Mathias Lefebvre,” he said to the Luidaeg, bowing deeply. “I represent the Lefebvre clan, from the waters off the Kingdom of Beacon’s Home. I am at your service, and your disposal.”
I glanced at Tybalt, mouthing “Beacon’s Home?”
“Halifax,” he mouthed back.
Ah. One of the Canadian Kingdoms. One of the East Coast Canadian Kingdoms, even. With my reputation for causing political chaos every time I leave the house, it was a pretty good bet that I was never going to be invited over for a casual visit. Although given that Quentin’s parents were offering to host my wedding, who knew? Maybe I’d have the chance to annoy a few more kings before I got myself confined permanently to the Mists.
The Luidaeg raised an eyebrow. “Bold,” she said, in a perfectly neutral tone. “What makes you think you have the right to approach me as you do, wearer of a stolen skin? Why should I hear whatever it is you have to say?”
Mathias was unflustered. “The Convocation has yet to begin, Lady; we stand in a liminal space,” he said. “I am here to speak with you before the formal commencement of our funeral, to beg a boon.”
“I hardly think you have any stones beneath your feet, but continue,” said the Luidaeg. “Only be aware that I reserve the right to slit your throat if you cease to amuse me.”
“I suspected your nature long before I became head of my clan and learned your name,” said Mathias, and tensed, apparently aware that what he was saying was pretty much guaranteed to annoy the Luidaeg. Her inability to lie to anyone except the Selkies was a sore spot, and she had always treasured her identity as “Cousin Annie,” the person no one was afraid of.
Her eyes narrowed, traceries of darkness moving through the green of her irises. She said nothing.
To his credit, Mathias stood his ground, although I could see him fighting the urge to take a step backward. I liked him a little for that. He’d decided to walk right into the arms of the sea witch, and now that he was here, he wasn’t going to pretend he hadn’t been aware of the risks.
“Why are you telling me this?” asked the Luidaeg.
“Because we are all criminals in your eyes, heir to the crimes of our ancestors, and we are yours to keep and command. You have a Firstborn’s duty toward us, for so long as we swim these seas.” His voice became more formal as he spoke, taking on a tight, clipped cadence that fit surprisingly well with his maritime accent.