One Salt Sea: An October Daye Novel

“I get that a lot,” I said. “You don’t have to be scared anymore.”


Dean looked from Quentin to me and back, still huddled in his corner, looking utterly unconvinced. “Where’s Peter?”

“We’re going to go find him now that we’ve found you.” A bright orange pixie zipped into the room, ringing excitedly as it circled my head. “. . . actually, I think one of our friends just found him for us. Tybalt?”

“On my way,” he said. He bowed to Dean, said, “It is a pleasure to see you safe,” and followed the pixie out of the room.

“What are we waiting for?” Dean scrambled to his feet, almost toppling over before he caught his balance again. He kept his hands balled into fists, probably to both hide and protect the stump of his severed finger. “Let’s go get my brother!”

I smiled. “Yeah. That sounds like a good idea.”

We had to walk slowly as we made our way down the hall; Dean wasn’t willing to be assisted, but he wasn’t steady enough on his feet to move at a normal pace. Quentin walked behind him, trying not to look like he was there to catch Dean if he fell. He was a damn good squire. Probably better than I deserved.

We were barely halfway down the hall when a joyful, unfamiliar voice called, “Dean! Dean, I’m here!”

Dean perked up, life coming back into his eyes. “Peter?”

For a moment, it looked like he was going to bolt. I put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. He looked at me with bewilderment, and I shook my head. “Don’t run. They’ll be here in a moment.”

Tybalt proved me right by walking out of the dimness up ahead, carrying a dark-haired boy with a slate gray fishtail where legs would more customarily have been. He was as dirty and thin-looking as Dean, but he was rocking up and down in his excitement, flukes slapping rhythmically against Tybalt’s side. Tybalt was doing his best to bear up stoically, but amusement tugged at the corners of his mouth.

“Peter!” Dean did break into a run when he saw his brother. This time, I didn’t try to stop him. There were enough of us that someone would catch him if he fell. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

“They threatened a lot. They didn’t give me much water—just enough so my scales wouldn’t start cracking.” Peter stilled his thrashing as he leaned down to put his arms around his older brother’s shoulders. “They said they’d kill you if I was bad.”

Tybalt’s eyes narrowed. He didn’t say anything. Quentin was less restrained. “We should wake Raysel up so we can beat her up some more.”

“I’m a bad influence on you,” I said. “No one is waking anyone up just to beat on them. Peter?” The younger of the Lorden boys raised his head. He had his father’s eyes. “I’m Toby. Your parents sent me to find you. Can you have legs?”

“No,” he said mournfully. “I haven’t had any saltwater in days.”

“That’s okay. Tybalt?”

“I will gladly carry him as far as is needed.”

“Then let’s go tell your parents that you’re okay.” I forced myself to smile as I led the way back to the door connecting to the room where we’d left the Luidaeg with my now-human little girl. Peter babbled the whole time, holding tight to his brother’s hand.

Gillian was still on the floor when we stepped back into the main room. The Luidaeg, on the other hand, was pacing, her eyes back to pseudo-human brown. She turned at the sound of our footsteps, a smile splitting her face. “You found them!”

“We found them,” I agreed wearily. “Now all we have to do is get them down to the water. I think their parents would like them back.”

“They’re not the only ones.” She looked meaningfully toward Gillian. I finally allowed myself to look in that direction. Her chest was rising and falling in a steady, even rhythm. I couldn’t stop my sigh of relief. The Luidaeg shook her head. “Yeah, Toby, she’s alive. I fuzzed her memory enough that she won’t remember this outside of her dreams.”

“You mean outside her nightmares,” I said quietly.