Across an Endless Sea (The Fifth Nicnevin, #2)

by Marie Mistry

“Do you have any advice?” I ask, stalling. “Any ideas on how to get them to stop trying to kill one another?” Danu chuckles, and the sound seems to light me up from within. “If you choose to return, I have faith that you will figure it out for yourself.” Least. Helpful. Advice. Ever.

My heart did not just stutter at being carried over a puddle of blood that he created. That is not chivalry, and I am not going to swoon.

“Wraith belongs to Rose,” he objects. “And she will want him unharmed when she returns.” “Unharmed?” I pout at him, trying to calculate my odds of jumping up and catching the puppy with half-functional legs. “I don’t want to harm it. I just want to teach it tricks and play games, like ‘fetch the trachea.’”

“You must have some memories of other events beyond getting your cap wet.” I frown, affronted. “I need to keep it red! Rose likes it that way. Plus, you said it yourself, I’m in the public eye now! I need to look the part!” Kitarni sighs and drops her head into her twiggy hands. “I meant you needed to button up your damned shirt before the parade. Not that you should increase your body count.”

“You have no idea what Caed did to her,” he says, drawing my attention back to his face. “She drew a boundary. Respect that. If she changes her mind, that’s her decision.”

Like’ is not the word I’d use.” My heart sinks, but he continues. “You alone have the ability to frustrate me beyond measure. You are captivating—as I’m sure you’re aware—and infuriating. Far too soft-hearted for the task the Goddess has put before you, and yet…” He trails off, glancing at the others before shifting his weight from one foot to the other. “‘Like’ is too simple a term.”

“If it’s blue, you can chew!” I sing-song. “Remember, teeth go in here—” I point at my chest. “Then do your thing!” I really hope soul sucking is instinctive. Unfortunately, I can’t demonstrate. If I could, I’d be the most feared redcap in the realm. Wraith looks at me, then back at the Fomorian. “Dinner,” I say. That gets through to him. Maybe because I say the word whenever I present him with food normally? Hey, this training thing is easier than it sounds.

“Rose won’t like it if he’s mistreated,” Bree reminds him. “I like you the best,” Caed mutters. Bree smiles, but it’s not a friendly expression. “That’s a pity. I was planning to be the one to kill you in six months.”

“You are not Maeve,” Kitarni growls. “Or Mab, or Titania, or even your mother. You are Rhoswyn, sent to us by Danu exactly as you are; because of who you are.” The high priestess pulls me into an unexpected hug. “All you need to do to be a true Nicnevin is follow your gut.”

Kitarni made me wear this stupid black jacket—and she had the nerve to hide my white one! Doesn’t she know how hard it is to make blood show up on black? How is Rose going to admire the blood of her enemies if she can’t see it?