Page 30 of The Prince or the Bard?
“This queen of yours—does she really mean so much?”
To me and to all púcaí.I hesitate.In truth, she is like a sister to me now, almost as dear to me as Unagh.
A burst of bubbles escapes Niamh’s nose as she sighs. “Fine. I only hope you will still think the cost worth it after it has been paid.” She narrows her eyes. “If you even know what it takes from you.”
My stomach flips. Even the sea cannot hide how ominous her warning is.
With a nervous stamp, I follow her, swimming up and over the houses. Below us, curious fae peer up from their windows, watching me, the strange creature of both earth and sea, and my merfolk guide.
Chapter Sixteen
The shell of thefaerie clam is wider than my family home.
Every clam filters the water that surrounds it. Faerie clams are little different, except that the waters surrounding them are filled with fae magic. They cannot help but be extraordinary.
The ridged shell of this one is covered in undulations, the rosy blush on its surface smattered by moondust. I know the tales of these creatures. Niamh even showed them to me once before, from a distance.
But a pearl from these clams? That, I’ve never seen.
I’d never hoped to see one, either.
When must I make the bargain?I ask as we swim closer to the clam. The creature appears larger by the second, lumiscent even in the fading light.
“You must lay your hand—er, hoof, upon it,” Niamh says, “and offer to trade for its pearl. If your intentions are good, it will open for you. I think.”
I nearly pull up.You think?
“I’ve never actually seen it done. I only know the tales, just as you.”
She doesn’t need to tell me the rest. Niamh’s never seen it done because she doesn’t know anyone desperate enough to try it. But it can’t be helped.
I’ve come too far to give up now.
The rosy clam fills up my vision as I swim near enough to touch it. I extend my foreleg, reaching toward it as if about to paw the ground.
I expect something—a flood of golden light, or a wrenching pain as something is taken from me. Instead, my heart feels calm as the faerie clam opens its shell. A pearl the size of my seelie form’s fist floats upward, delicate next to the size of its maker.
I have no hands with which to grasp it. Niamh hangs back, her own tucked beneath her arms as she looks on with unease. So I do the only thing I can, and take it between my teeth.
Nothing happens. I feel no weight of magic upon me, no sense of loss. Unable to speak with the pearl in my mouth, I eye Niamh.
“I guess your cause was worthy,” is all she says.
She glances nervously at the surface far above, the shadow of a whale skimming by. “It’s getting dark, Laoise. You’d better go.” Is it my imagination, or is she trembling? “I won’t see you off. Come visit me later, when you know how it all turns out.”
Something of her phrasing has me on alert. But there’s no time to waste. I came here on a mission, and I’m not going to fail after all this.
When I reach the surface, my aches instantly return. I spare a moment to shake out my mane, then resume my journey. Soon, my hooves are churning up sand. The pearl is pressed tightly against the roof of my mouth as the tide knocks me forward.
Too soon, I am back on land. But I am slower now, my legs and lungs burning ever more intensely as I leave the crash of waves behind me.
I barely make it to the borders of my little court before I stumble. As I land, my tired legs give out.
I’ve gone above and beyond. There’s no more that I can do.
The first puca queen is going to die. I spit out the pearl that carries the essence of the sea.
I return to my seelie form, flop onto my back and clutch my injured arm with that same hand. The stars wheel above me, reminding me that I need to breathe. The pearl sits beside me in the grass, humming softly with power.
