Magic Tides (Kate Daniels: Wilmington Years #1)(45)

I didn’t share that fact with anyone because Elaine was on edge as it was. I needed them united and committed to begging.

The fire crackled.

I started over. “Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

Fire calls were like a ringing phone, annoying and difficult to ignore. And I had a feeling Manannán might have gotten himself an avatar. In the myths, he liked to travel. The fire call would bug him even more than usual.

“Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

“Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

“Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

“Manannán mac Lir, Son of the Sea…”

The flames flashed blue. A man rose from the fire. Tall, broad-shouldered, and muscular, he was naked to the waist. A long kilt or a belted robe hung off his hips, merging with the flames. His long hair and beard were the color of sea foam. His eyes were a deep, piercing blue.

“What?” Manannán demanded.

Finally.

I knelt. Everyone behind me knelt as well.

“Aaron is dead. We’ve returned your gold. Please release your people from your chains.”

“Who are you to bargain with me?”

“The killer of Neig.”

The deity pondered me. I kept kneeling. Dropping a dragon’s name should buy me some street cred.

“I meant for him to suffer for eternity. You’ve cut it short. You released him from his penance.”

“He was wrong to ransom your child. But since then, he has taken other children from their families. They suffer the way your child suffered, separated from their parents, denied the warmth and love of their family. They are innocent. We beg you to undo these chains.”

“They should be punished with him. All of you should be punished for allowing him to live and harm my child.”

I was wrong for killing him and also wrong for allowing him to live, and everyone should suffer. Tuatha Dé, ever so consistent and reasonable.

“We’ve corrected our mistake.”

“Too little, too late.”

I made a small motion with my hand. The three smallest children crawled forward, crying and wailing. We’d rehearsed it.

“Please, Father of Fiachra, Father of Niamh…”

The kids cried.

“…Father of Eachdond Mor, Father of…”

He grunted. “Enough! What do you offer?”

Shit. He wanted an offering. I didn’t have anything. Nothing valuable enough.

Think, think, think…

“What do you offer in compensation?” Manannán repeated.

“This ship.”

“This ruin?”

“This ship is a monument to human arrogance. It had cost untold riches to build and been filled with luxurious treasures, and yet it wasn’t used to transport goods or carry people across the waves from one destination to another. It went around in a circle, returning to the same port with all of its passengers still on board. It was built specifically for leisure, so humanity, in its conceit, could spend a few days floating on the ocean and scoffing at its power. It’s the vessel of people who thought they had conquered the sea.”

Manannán considered it. I held my breath.

“Is it yours to give?”

“Yes. I killed Aaron, so everything that was his is now ours. Please accept this vessel as our humble offering.”

“I agree. Remember my mercy.”

“Always, Lord Manannán.”

He disappeared.

The chains fractured and vanished. Someone cried out, as if unable to believe it.

The sea surged through the hole, licked the fire, and put it out in an instant.

Far ahead, at the cliffs, a wall of water rose, dark and menacing, climbing higher and higher. Something moved inside it. Something with very long tentacles.

“We have to go!” I barked.

Solina grabbed Antonio’s hand. “This way!”

Everyone ran after her, and I brought up the rear, keeping the kids in front of me. Garvey followed us, scrambling to keep up. We dashed down the pitch-black hallway, scurrying through the bowels of the ship on feel alone.

Elaine made a sharp right turn ahead. The caravan of kids followed her and so did I. Mark, the gaunt man, scooped the smallest child up and carried her.

Something hit the hull. The colossal ship trembled.

Boom!

Boom! Boom!

My brain helpfully supplied a vision of enormous tentacles wrapping around the vessel.

I burst through the door after the kids, into a stairwell dimly lit by a single feylantern above. The children pounded up the metal stairs. I rushed upward. One turn. Two…

The door behind me burst open. Garvey hauled his bony body through it and started up the stairs.

Round and round, we charged up the stairs.

The door below us snapped open again. Water shot into the stairwell, foaming and rising.

“Faster!” I yelled.

The kids huffed in front of me, slowing down.

The water caught Garvey. A long, buttery creature swirled in its depths, wrapped around the old man, and pulled him under.

The ship groaned, metal screeching, and moved.

I clung to the stairs.

The ship froze again.

“Almost there!” Solina screamed.