Heart of the Fae (The Otherworld #1)(86)

She blinked, opening her eyes as if she had never seen the sun. And had she ever seen it?

The veil of the world shattered through the ointment he pressed against her closed lids. Colors were suddenly so much more. The white horses grew long manes and water dripped from their foaming snouts. Webbed toes stamped the ground, their tails flicked back and forth.

His arm around her waist was suddenly more solid. More real. The crystals were more than just stone, they were imbued with magic that she could see as sparkling light dancing atop his skin.

“Oh,” she whispered. “What did you do?”

“I opened your eyes.” He nudged her backward, holding her against his chest and letting her stare without worry of balance or fear of falling. He had opened her eyes to the world she had never seen.

“I had no idea all this was here.”

“Glamour is a strange thing. Faeries place it upon everyday objects without even realizing what they do.”

One of the horses tossed its head, glancing at them with dark green eye.

“Kelpies?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Aren’t they dangerous?”

“Not to me.”

“And to me?” She tilted her head back, looking up to catch his expression.

He stared back at her. His brows smoothed and his lips curved into a soft smile. The crystals marring his eyes, lips, and skull were made more beautiful by her new sight.

“Never to you. Not as long as I stand by your side.”

She felt his low hum against her spine. It wasn’t quite a song, nor did she think he had the voice to sustain such a melody, but a rumble that came from deep within his belly. The kelpie nearest to them lifted its head.

It ambled closer, shaking its wet and dripping head. Seaweed tangled in its mane, and foam erupted from its nostrils every time it snorted.

“Have you ever wanted to touch a kelpie?” he asked.

“It’s dangerous. They’ll drag humans down into the bottom of the ocean and drown them.”

“But have you ever wanted to touch one?”

“Yes,” she answered. “Without question, I have always wondered what they felt like.”

He stepped forward, sliding his feet under hers until he walked for the both of them. His arm around her waist was comforting and strong. “Then let us fulfill that wish.”

The kelpie tossed its head as they moved, watching every twitch, every step, every breath that Sorcha took. It ignored Eamonn, perhaps the only creature in existence that was able to ignore the crystals and jagged edges. Its head swayed as she walked closer, a strange translucent glimmer spreading across its body.

“What was that?”

“That is what a glamour looks like to a Fae.”

“That?” It looked like a bubble stretched across the kelpie’s skin. Light reflected off the surface in rainbows. “But it’s so beautiful.”

“Did you think it wouldn’t be?” His hand slid under her arm, guiding it up into the air. “Deceitful things are not always ugly.”

“Shouldn’t they be?”

“Not necessarily. Sometimes, we hide our true selves to spare humans the grievous injury of our appearance.”

Sorcha looked over the kelpie, seeing the strange webbed feet, the scaled skin, the seaweed hair and did not flinch. She could understand how some humans might be afraid of it. The legends said it was dangerous, and it likely was. It was different, uncomfortable to even be around.

But that was what made it so lovely. Sorcha had been the oddity in her town, and she knew how deceiving appearances could be.

She stepped out of Stone’s comforting warmth. Her nightgown stuck to her skin as mist clung to the sodden fabric. The cloak felt heavy upon her shoulders, but did not slow her determined pace.

Her palm met the cold, wet snout of the kelpie. It huffed, bubbles foaming between her fingers.

“Hello,” she whispered.

It cocked its head to stare up at her. A strand of seaweed fell across its forehead. Sorcha didn’t hesitate, she brushed it aside and stroked her hand across damp scales.

“There. Now you can see me.”

Stone’s voice rumbled, “I’ve never seen a human treat faeries so kindly.”

“I’ve never seen a human treat faeries like anything at all.” Her heart clenched. “We have forgotten what it means to be connected to the earth, to the waves, to the creatures who care for all of those things.”

“It is why we faded from your world.”

“And I hope you know that your kind is dearly missed.” The kelpies skin was faintly like that of a snake, albeit a cold, wet one. Sorcha couldn’t stop petting the creature nor did it seem to want her to stop. Every time she pulled her hand away it would bounce its head.

“Is that so?” Sand suctioned to his feet as he walked away. Sorcha tracked the slurping sounds to the rocks where he settled. “I see no signs that humans even remember us.”

“Myths and legends teach us lessons. Tales of your kind frighten children, and I can’t say how many people have thought their babe to be a changeling. They remember you, and they blame many things upon faeries that are their own fault.”

Sorcha could not change the minds of people who were so set in their ways. She wanted to, but she also wanted to remain free of fire.