“How?” Though based on my current attire, I could hazard a guess. The notion filled me with cold dread.
“First, you take a dip in the spring. Don’t worry, I’ll turn my back while you’re disrobing. All it takes from there is physical contact. The magic channels through us both.”
I stopped, rooted to the spot. Perhaps to anyone else, the spring looked serene, beautiful. To me the sound of its chanting waters and the opaque blue disguising any view of the bottom were sinister. I remembered the way they tasted in my lungs, how the icy cold made it hard to move, how the deadly current meant any movement was wasted energy anyway.
Intellectually, I understood the spring was separate from the strid. The strid’s waters fed into underground aquifers, which in turn bled into this spring. There was no deadly current, and so long as the wraith wasn’t near, nothing to drown me like Laurelie.
But the magic of the spring came from the strid. They were connected. I’d washed up here, though that should have been impossible. Wild magic often was.
I didn’t trust it. Not at all.
Kessian realized I’d stopped halfway up the path. He turned to me. “Everything all right?”
“I’m not getting in there,” I said. “I can’t.”
“What’s wrong?”
I’d already turned on my heel. “Nothing. I just have to go yell at Fae.” With a muttered apology, I stomped back into the house and to reception, where Fae was on the phone. When they saw my approach, they murmured a swift, “Can I call you back in a few minutes?” before hanging up. They drew me through the door into the reception office, away from any early patrons so we wouldn’t disturb their holidays.
“Why didn’t you tell me I had to get in the water?”
“If I had, would you have come?”
“No.”
“Then there’s your answer.”
Kessian had caught up with me. “I’m sorry, what happened? Did my flirting make it too awkward, or—?”
“It wasn’t you. Fae neglected to tell me I had to bathe in the spring.”
Fae threw up their hands. “Because I knew you’d react like this, and the spring isn’t dangerous!”
“Laureliedrownedin that spring!” I shouted.
They both went quiet.
On a chilly night a couple months after my father drowned and I survived, my sister Laurelie silently left our bedroom, went to the spring, and never came out again.
I’d woken to the sounds of her screams, but when I looked out the window, I couldn’t see her, only splashes, and something darker than pitch standing waist-deep in the water.
Its body was composed of shadows. They had density, like the swirling mists of a gas giant with its cataclysmic gravity. The shadows obscured the thing’s face except for the blank voids of its eyes. Its darkness bled into the roiling water. It attacked my uncle next, then ran off when I chased it.
All we found of Laurelie were her shoes by the shore, taken off and lined up like she’d gone in voluntarily. Perhaps she’d heard the song. It didn’t matter. She was gone.
I left Shearwater soon after.
Kessian’s jaw dropped, and to my relief, he rounded on Fae, too. “You didn’t tell me that!”
“She didn’t drown, shewas drowned. By the wraith, and I’m hoping Kessian can help free you from it,” Fae said.
“You still should have said something,” I insisted.
Kessian agreed with me. “I’m trying to heal people, not traumatize them by bathing them in their worst memories. If I’d known that, I wouldn’t have gone skipping outside like I was leading him into a world of magic and fairy tales.”
“All right, I get it!” Fae crossed their arms, but it looked more defensive than defiant. “Maybe I should have said something. I’m sorry. I didn’t think you’d bother trying if I told you. Seems I was right. I didn’t mean to be insensitive, I was just—” They chewed their lip, glancing between me and Kessian.
I waited, heart hammering in my throat. I’d come in spoiling for a fight, but now they’d apologized, I didn’t know what I wanted.
