I raise my hand with the speed of a whip and water shoots out of the pool to drench the Faerie, enough to shock him into dropping the little Troll. The Hulder is there in an instant to scoop her up, and she runs for the entrance without looking back.
We can all hear the cries echoing down the tunnel.
“Is that the best you can do?” snarls the Faerie, his rage palpable enough to cause other Hidden Folk to start edging towards the only exit. “Splash people?”
“No,” I say, my voice soft. I’m a stranger to myself in this moment, as if someone else is speaking for me. “I could probably drown you.”
Something flickers across the Faerie’s face. He is not willing to call my bluff, and a part of me
is disappointed.
“Whatever creature you’re looking for in these parts, it doesn’t want to be found,” a Blue Man says, his voice civil and composed. “There have been stories of a monster in the loch for centuries. But the Stoor Worm is long gone. Nothing remains there now but fish and Hidden Folk.”
“Maybe I don’t seek the made-up object of human idiocy,” the Faerie says, causing me to roll my eyes.
“Why are you lot always so pretentious?” I mock. “There is no Loch Ness Monster. You can’t come in here, trying to torture people into telling you about something that isn’t real. Give me a fiver, I’ll go to the tourist shop and buy you one of those plushies. The monster is not real!”
“It is real.”
Everyone turns to look at the source of the words. It’s a woman with silvery skin and large, sad eyes. I know she isn’t human and yet there is nothing specifically mythical about her appearance. She just radiates difference.
“Selkie,” the Blue Man says, speaking slowly and gently, as if afraid of hurting her feelings. “Your kind are long gone from the loch, and so is any—”
“I’ve seen it,” the Selkie continues. “But I’ve seen something even stranger. Something with no name. Something that moves like a riddle.”
I notice how hungry the Faerie now looks. Clearly, this information is valuable to him. The Selkie’s gaze is far away, as if she is remembering something troubling.
She seems haunted.
“It’s not human, not Hidden either.”
Her words remind me of the Stranger. Though I can’t conjure up his face, the feelings that he leaves behind are in my memory. His magic is so far beyond that of any normal Hidden creature. He can disappear and reappear at will.
Plus, something more. Something frightening.
“Where did you see it?” asks the Faerie. He is clearly trying to be gentle, but it’s something he’s not capable of conveying.
“If I tell you,” the Selkie speaks with a voice that makes everyone around her take a small step away.
As if her sad voice is repellent to them, “will you destroy it?”
The Faerie hesitates and I smirk. Unlike Sirens,
the Fae cannot lie. They must dance around the
truth instead.
“We need to find it,” he finally settles on.
“Who is ‘we’?” I demand.
The Faerie hisses.
“The Fae are working with Sirens,” I shout, letting my voice echo against the walls so that everyone can hear. The statement causes people to hum and
whisper, nervously.
“Sirens,” the Selkie says venomously. She turns to the Faerie. “Is that true?”
The Faerie takes too long to think of a way to answer, as he’s unable to lie and say ‘no’. His pause
is too long and the Hidden Folk cry out with
accusatory voices.
“Let the little witch drown him!” someone yells from the back.
I’m startled. They are completely serious. I watch as fear flickers in the face of the Faerie and I feel something unpleasant knot inside of me.
“You’re hunting this mystery creature for the Sirens,” I say, staring down the white-eyed creature. “Why?”
Smugness sparks in the Faerie’s face. “Because when we give it to her, she will win.”
She. Portia. I don’t need him to say her name.
“She’s not going to win,” I say flatly. “Ever. I know what she’s trying to do. She’s trying to divide us. Create chaos. But she’s not going to win.”
The Faerie’s eyes continue to glint. “Oh, it’s so much more than that,” he says, too gently. Too quietly. “She’s reordering this world. Mending it.”
