Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(30)

“I told you the Fae take care of us. Now, come on.”

Manus’s hand was just as cold as hers. He pulled her up and held onto her elbow when she swayed. “Were you injured?”

“No.”

“Good.”

He pulled her towards the bow of the ship. She glanced over her shoulder, watching more merrows swarm over the railings. Two dragged a man up from the ocean. They slammed him down on the deck so hard that Sorcha winced, but the hard strike made him cough up the seawater in his lungs.

They were not just saving the survivors, she realized. Three more merrows pulled up another man and laid him gently on the desk. They rocked back and forth over his body, keening their grief.

“They mourn the dead?” she asked.

“Of course, they do. We work with them, and we will mourn theirs before we set sail again.”

“They had casualties?” Sorcha glanced around, trying to find the merrow bodies.

“You won’t see them on the ship. Merrows turn to sea foam when they die. It’s a cruel death, but it’s better than letting sharks eat them.”

Sorcha swallowed hard. “I’m sorry to hear they lost loved ones.”

“Well, I lost good men as well. Feel sorry for the lot of us.”

She blinked and looked up at him. His cheeks were red and splotchy, his eyes casting glares in her direction even as he propelled her forcefully towards the end of his ship.

“Are you angry at me?” she asked.

“I never should have taken this foolish mission. The journey to Hy-brasil is dangerous, and I was fully aware of that.”

“And that is my fault?”

“You asked to come here, freckles.”

Sorcha jerked the arm he held. “How dare you blame this on me? I did nothing wrong!”

“You made a deal with the wrong faerie!” He thrust her towards the bow of the ship and the wooden Fae staring off into the skyline. “I lost good men because of you. I won’t blame you for their deaths, but I’m damned well getting you off this ship!”

She stumbled, catching herself hard against the railing. The storm was subsiding, though the waves still churned with uncontrolled anger. She couldn’t see anything in those secretive waves, the water dark and foreboding.

The island was within sight. Tall cliffs framed one side and led down to a rocky shore. A castle loomed over the small isle, crumbling towers and decaying wood structures giving the land an eerie, abandoned feel. It looked like a better abode for ghosts than people. Certainly not faeries.

“Hy-brasil?” she asked.

“You wanted to go to the island. There it is.” His feet struck the deck hard as he walked away.

“Wait!” Sorcha spun. “How am I supposed to get there?”

“That wasn’t part of our deal. As you can see, I have enough to worry about here.”

“Can I borrow a rowboat at least?” She raced after him and caught the edge of his sleeve.

“Borrow? How are you going to bring it back? Swim to the isle if you need to get there so badly, freckles, or stay on the ship and return with us. I don’t care.”

“You want me to swim to that isle?” Sorcha jabbed a finger at Hy-brasil. “Do you even know what’s in the water here? You said this was the gateway between the Otherworld and ours, so how many more faeries are there? We can both be certain I won’t find just merrows!”

“Then stay on the ship, and I’ll bring you home!”

He whirled on her. His chest rose and fell in exaggerated rage while his hands opened and closed. Sorcha narrowed her eyes. He wasn’t just angry at her, he was frightened. The storm had cost him much, and he was second guessing coming here at all.

They had to go back through the storm, she realized. This wasn’t about the initial danger but that they had to turn around and do it again. Maybe it would be easier returning to the human world, but she doubted it.

He would lose more men. More merrows would die. And she was pestering him with ferrying her over to the island which had caused all this trouble in the first place.

Sorcha released her anger with a soft sigh. “I understand, Manus. I do. But I need to bring my things with me, and they cannot get wet.”

“I never said I’d ensure the safety of personal items.”

“They’re my mother’s books,” she called out as he turned away from her again. “They’re the only thing I have left of her and I will not let them go.”

He hesitated. She watched his shoulders lift in anger and then curl forward in defeat. “You’re set on going, then?”

“I have no other choice, you know that as well as I. The faerie punishment for backing out of a deal is worse than a swift death at sea.”

“I have a charm which will help your pack stay dry. It was a gift from a selkie, and I expect to have it back someday.”

Sorcha twisted her fingers together. “I will do my best to return it once this is all over.”

“I won’t hold my breath.”

Manus motioned for one of his sailors, the most mobile of the bunch strewn across the deck like autumn leaves. The raven burst out of the captain’s quarters, its cry echoing as it launched into the air. She watched him stretch his wings and fly towards the isle.

Apparently, the raven was traveling to the same place as Sorcha. She turned her gaze to the land mass and suppressed a shiver. There was something about that place which felt wrong.