Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(22)

“Oh right,” she muttered. “I’m on a ship.”

She hadn’t been bothered last night by the constant movement of waves. She’d been too tired to even notice there were men staring at her when the captain dragged her aboard. Her pack was handed off with little complaint, and she didn’t even ask where the captain would sleep. She face-planted onto the cot and propriety be damned.

Her stomach clenched hard and her throat seized up.

“Ugh,” Sorcha moaned as she burped. The ocean was making her entire body rebel now.

It took surprising effort to swing her legs over the edge of the cot. The whole time she held onto her mouth as though the effort would keep the bile in her stomach down. Another burp rocked her body forward and bile burned the back of her throat.

Shaking her head violently, she lunged from the cot and pulled at the door. The fine details of the room didn’t matter. The soft polished statues were left unremarked as she fled from the room and slammed her pelvic bone into the railing.

Vomit streamed out of her mouth and down the side of the ship. Sorcha hadn’t thought there was anything left in her stomach, she didn’t remember eating anything at all yesterday, but she couldn’t stop the vomit.

“Ach, you didn’t even have the decency to hit the water.”

She recognized that voice. Her cheeks stained red, and she wiped at her lips. “I’ve never been seasick before. I apologize if I ruined your ship.”

The man swaggering towards her didn’t look at all like the captain she remembered. Tall and lean, he looked more like a pirate in a book.

Gold hoops swung from his ears. His hair and beard were so dark they gleamed blue in the sunlight. Richly tanned skin glistened with sweat like polished bronze. He had traded his worn pants for a fine cotton shirt tucked into a wide belt above tight black breeches. Knee high boots folded over, covering his knees, and cracked against the deck of the ship as he strode towards her.

Sorcha was tongue tied.

“Manus?”

“Don’t recognize me, pretty thing?” His sleeves billowed as he lifted his arms. “A far cry from how we met, yes?”

“Very,” she agreed. “I can hardly believe it’s you.”

He smiled, teeth flashing brilliant white against the dark tan of his skin. “Ah, that is the greatest compliment you might have given. You found me in a rather compromising position last night.”

“One you are not proud of?”

“I’d never say I wasn’t proud of her.” He winked at her blush. “She is the other half of my heart! Sequestered on the land because the sea refuses to be her mistress. I understand why my ladies fight over me, but, alas, I cannot choose between them.”

The dramatic rendition of his life dissolved Sorcha’s remaining seasickness. Her weak smile bolstered her strength, and she pushed herself away from the railing. “I’m certain they both miss you when you’re gone.”

“Neither of them miss me overly much, but it’s kind of you. If you’re feeling better, I ask that you join me in the center of the ship.”

Sorcha’s brows furrowed. “Why?”

“The ocean isn’t a safe place, sweet thing. We’re sailing into Fae waters and I’d hate for you to be snatched up by a murúch.”

“There are merrows here?” Sorcha flinched away from the railing.

“It’s why the ship is painted yellow,” Manus said. He walked towards her and slid an arm around her shoulders. “Come, let me show you.”

He reached into his pocket and placed a single sprig of heather on the railing. “A gift for the lovely ladies who guide my ship to safe waters.”

Sorcha held her breath. She had always known faeries to take gifts that were offered, but they were always glamoured. Her gifts had disappeared. Running water erased the effects of magic, and she wouldn’t need to use her hag stone to catch a glimpse of the Fae here.

A hand reached up from the edge of the ship. Impossibly pale, its long fingers were joined together by iridescent webbing. Rainbows sparkled upon the merrow woman’s hand as she reached for the purple sprig. She was gentle as she pinched the blossom between her fingers and took it over the edge of the ship with her.

Sorcha’s breath released in a great gust of air. “Was that?”

“It was.”

“But the ship is so tall!”

“We put slats on the edge so they can climb it.”

“Isn’t that dangerous?” she asked. “Won’t they drag you down into the ocean?”

“Myths aren’t always the truth, Sorcha. We bring them gifts, they give us safe passage. My men know the rules. New brides are willing only.”

She blinked, surprised that anyone honored the Fae as she did. He read her expression well, the grin on his face was decidedly pleased as he sauntered away.

Free from watchful eyes, Sorcha lunged back to the railing. She squeezed her hand upon the polished wood and stared down into the waves.

A woman clutched the side of the ship, her wide dark eyes staring back at Sorcha with shock. Hair as green as seaweed tangled down her back in wet strands. She held the sprig of heather in her webbed hand. They blinked at each other until the merrow gave her a wide sharped toothed grin and flipped off the ship. The bright flash of a green tail waved in the sunlight, splashing into a wave with one final twist.