A Wilderness of Glass - Grace Draven Page 0,31

meet him in the cave,” she finally said, the statement more of an accusation.

Brida stiffened. She didn’t need another to tell her what she already knew. That worry had fractured her sleep and plagued her thoughts during the days when she worked and wondered about him. However, neither she nor Ahtin were children, nor did they need a minder. Despite her irritation, she kept her voice neutral. “I don’t mean to. And is it not dangerous in your world? Even more so? He told me what happened to his mate and child. The sea is no different from the land in that way.”

The ap slapped her fluke against the water, revealing her own annoyance. “You saved him. I and mine are in your debt. You will always be safe with us in the sea, but Ahtin isn’t yours to keep.”

“He isn’t my prisoner. His will is his own,” Brida shot back.

“His will is to be with you. He can’t.” Another fluke slap. “He is merfolk. You are land dweller.”

Brida had expected this from the moment the conversation started but was still disappointed by its appearance. “And no lesser for it.”

Edonin’s severe expression suddenly softened with a pity that made Brida’s stomach twist a little. “You haven’t asked what I told you those years ago when I saw you grieving on the shore.”

Brida wasn’t sure she wanted to know now. “I’ve always wondered,” she said, careful not to reveal too much of her curiosity or her dread.

Judging by the enigmatic look in her double pupil eyes, the merwoman wasn’t fooled. “I told you ‘Edonin shares your grief, land woman.’ She nodded when Brida’s eyebrows arched in question. “I once loved a land dweller. When he was killed, a part of me died with him. He died because we refused to part, even when we knew no good would come of it.”

The twisting in Brida’s gut only worsened at the revelation. Edonin’s warning didn’t come from a place of familial intrusion or protection but from old heartbreak that, if the ap’s tone was anything to judge by, still had not healed.

At Brida’s silence, Edonin continued. “Our mistakes stay with us all our lives. Don’t make the one I did. If not for Ahtin, then for yourself.” She raised a hand. “Farewell, Brida.”

The merwoman was nearly out of sight when Brida remembered something she had meant to tell Ahtin but forgot. Edonin’s translation of her four-note tune to Brida alarmed her even more now that she knew what they meant. She called out to Edonin, relieved when the merwoman heard and swam back to her.

Edonin had warned that Ahtin courted danger by courting Brida, but Brida wondered if maybe the ap herself was at more risk and unaware of it. “I don’t know if this will mean anything to you, but there’s a land dweller in Ancilar who I think searches for the mer. Searches for you specifically. His name is Ospodine.” At Edonin’s puzzled look, Brida clarified. “Ospodine means ‘horse of the sea.’”

A sound, desolate and stricken, erupted from Edonin’s mouth. Her skin turned the shade of old hearth ash. Desolation, mixed with terror, darkened her eyes. She shuddered, the motion traveling from the top of her shoulders, through her tail, and into her fluke.

Shocked by the extraordinary reaction, Brida waded toward her. Edonin raised a hand to stop her. “Again, I’m in your debt.” Her voice no longer carried the lyrical quality Brida had learned to associate with the merfolk. “I beg you, please, if you care anything for Ahtin—anything—stay away from him. If you care for your own life, stay away from the one you call Ospodine. I know him well, and wish with all my soul I never did.”

At that, the ap sped away, the wake of her quick departure a cut in the waves that marked the direction of her path to the deep from which she’d come.

Brida, thoroughly frightened now, for Ahtin, for Edonin, and for herself, sprinted home, throwing the bolt to her front door as soon as she closed it behind her. Her body, still throbbing from Ahtin’s lovemaking, now shivered as much from fear as from chills. Her instincts regarding Ospodine had been right. She had no idea what terrible thing existed between him and a merfolk matriarch, but Brida had no doubt that Edonin’s reaction had not been overly dramatic or unjustified. Ospodine was dangerous. She only wished she knew exactly why.

She checked all her locks twice before changing into warm night clothes