“I appreciated it,” she said, still sliding downward in the seaweed, though the slope was becoming less steep. It seemed the path was leveling out at last. “I’m sorry about the other humans. The ones who mess up the water. We’re working on them.”
“We smash holes in their boats or overturn them with waves when we must.” The seal said it matter-of-factly, which sent a chill through Livy. She recalled that fae-world values were not the same as human ones.
“So,” she said. “Am I in the middle of the inlet now? The path seems flatter.”
“Yes, you are at the depths for our small pool.”
“Good to know.”
She supposed for a sea creature, a half-mile-wide, hundred-foot-deep stretch of water was a small pool compared to the open ocean.
“We would like you to destroy the goblins,” the seal added. “They steal our fish sometimes, and fling things in our waters, just as humans do. We drag them under and turn them into water fae when we can catch them, but they are often too fast.”
She would have opted not to get in the middle of an otherwordly war, but apparently such was her lot tonight. She sank up to her shoulders in muck again, and pulled herself free. “I’ll do my best.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
SKYE SAT ON MOSSY DECK BOARDS IN THE TREETOP VILLAGE, HER ARMS SPREAD TO THE SIDES AND HELD BY TWO goblins. She didn’t mind. She felt pleasantly dazed. Around her, the tribe played music and raced about gathering food for the party, their scampering feet shaking the boards and making the lightbulbs and lanterns and jars of glowing beetles swing in the branches overhead.
Grady had followed her, as Redring predicted. He sat next to her, similarly immobilized, almost close enough to touch, but she didn’t have the energy to reach out. No need. Soon they’d be transformed, and free to scamper about like all the others.
A commotion drew her attention, loud screeching and yipping from the ladders leading up to the decks.
“Look who came to see us!” A goblin flung a man onto the boards, chained-up and gagged.
Skye recognized him, though it took her foggy brain a moment. Kit, the liaison. He brought gold to the tribe, though he didn’t want to. An ally, but a troublesome one. Also former kin to Grady, and close to Livy, and he had tried to help Skye somehow…but it hurt to think of all that, a hurt that was thankfully dying away. She welcomed its demise.
“Such good timing.” Redring crawled into view on three limbs, holding aloft a large wooden bowl with the other hand. “He can witness their transformation.”
“And if he misbehaves?” The goblin called Slide, with a battered dead iPhone chained around his neck, hulked over Kit with twitching fingers.
“Then he falls tragically off the treehouse and we claim a new liaison. Our liaisons do die young. It’s as if they don’t like serving us.”
The tribe screeched with laughter.
“Wonder who it’ll be,” someone called.
Redring poked Grady’s leg. “Not this one. We get him instead, thanks to our new lady.”
Most of the tribe cheered, but Slide grunted and curled his lip into a sneer as he raked his gaze across Skye and Grady. “He might still come to harm. He doesn’t deserve to be her mate.”
Disgust shivered through that fading human kernel of Skye’s mind, and Grady twitched in his bonds, likely feeling it too. Flattery was what Skye felt now more strongly. She might not desire Slide and might have to claw at him to keep him away, but to be desired and fought over meant status.
“Shut up, Slide,” Redring said. “Be patient. It is not as though we keep to one mate for long. You’ll have your turn, as will we all.” She ran her twiggy hand down Grady’s leg, which made him twitch again, but his gaze followed Redring attentively.
“Rrggh!” Kit writhed on the boards, fury contorting his face as he watched, but he didn’t manage to work his arms or mouth free. Slide kicked him in the midsection, and he started gasping as if the wind had been knocked out of him.
A tiny chord of protest struck within Skye, and Grady tensed up for a second. Then Redring stepped close to them, her body blocking Skye’s view of Kit. She held up the bowl. Her presence soothed Skye, and the contents of the bowl fascinated her: round red fruits, possibly cherries or grapes or even small apples, glistening and sticky as if stewed a long time in spices and sugar. Exactly the kind of food Skye had detested for the last several weeks, but now she couldn’t imagine why. The warm, syrupy smell curling off the fruits made her salivate.
Redring raised her voice. “My tribemates!” The music cut off, except for one low ongoing note that changed gradually as it rumbled along, like a bullfrog’s voice perpetuated. The goblins crowded near to watch. “We have waited so long for our lovely new sister. She is feisty. She resisted us a good while.” Redring ran a scratchy finger down Skye’s cheek. “She even defied us in her choice of mate—but in doing so, brought us a new member!” She transferred her caress to Grady’s jaw. He stared glassily at her. “How we have enjoyed watching your matings in our woods, young ones.”
All the goblins whistled, whooped with laughter, and made mocking grunts. That sliver of humanity within Skye coiled tight in humiliation and outrage, but it had been sequestered away where it barely affected her anymore.
“Finally you’ve come to us.” Redring wrapped both hands around the wooden bowl. “We don’t need tedious ceremonies. Let us merely give you our most sacred fruits, and bring you into our tribe. Then the celebrating can truly begin.”
The goblins cheered. Somewhere beneath it, Skye heard another muffled roar from Kit.
Her eyes stayed riveted on the stewed fruits. With two long fingers, Redring lifted a red globe from the bowl. A sticky drop plunked off it, and a curl of steam escaped from where it had rested. Redring held it out. Skye opened her mouth and took it.
As her teeth closed on it, that bit of human righteousness lashed around in horror. Not only was the fruit over-sweetened and mushy, but that bitter metallic tang in the spiced sauce had to be blood. Yet this was how she became one of them, she understood. Maybe it was even Redring’s own blood. This was a great honor. She chewed and swallowed the cherry or crabapple or grape or whatever it was, and beside her, Grady accepted a fruit from Redring’s hand and consumed it too.