Page 83 of Fae Tithe

Eleanor closed her eyes and her ears twitched. “I can hear squeaking, squealing maybe?”

Lance grinned down at her. “I think some River Folk have come to visit us. They are enjoying the scraps we tossed into the river.” They stepped back over to the riverbank and peered over.

Sure enough, five long, fat otters feasted on the entrails they had discarded into the reeds minutes before. Each was fluffy and brown, their faces and paws a dull gold. The Merman could vaguely understand them, their language not so different from the language of the sea otters he knew. He emitted a high-pitched squeak in acknowledgement of them thanking him for the meal.

Eleanor’s ears flicked again. “You can understand them? I heard that noise. I don’t think I would have heard it before… this.” She gestured vaguely to her body.

“I can, a little,” he said. “Sea otters live on the Selkie Islets. Their language is not so different.”

“You mentioned that place before.” Eleanor tracked the otters in the reeds. “What’s it like?”

Lance wondered if now, like him, she could see in total darkness. The only illumination in the night came from behind them in the form of the soft campfire light, yet Eleanor’s eyes clearly followed the movement of the fluffy otters in the reeds.

“I did. It is a part of my territory. The Selkie Leader is part of my court. She is… formidable. You would love it there, El. Beautiful, small islands dotted closely together in the middle of the sea. Each has thick forests and waterfalls. There are caves to explore and lovely, sandy beaches with shells to find,” Lance gushed. He really adored the islets, but he was not allowed there, except when on official business. Just like all men of any kind.

“It sounds wonderful. I would like to go there one day,” she admitted.

“We can arrange that in the future, I am sure,” Lance replied.

He beamed down at the otters in the darkness as they finished their meal of fish scraps. They began cleaning themselves, cooing and purring at each other. The otters wetted their front paws in the river water and used them to dampen their faces, using their claws to clean their whiskers and around their mouths.

Eleanor squealed, making the Merman jump. “They’re so cute!” she exclaimed, bouncing with delight on the balls of her feet.

Helena awoke with a jolt next to the campfire to her daughter’s screams. Wait. Not screams. Squeals. She dropped her shoulders in relief. El is excited about something. She reached into her mind. Atlas?

The Dragon rustled in her mind. Here, he responded. Do you feel better now? You have been sleeping for a long time.

My head hurts, my scaly arm itches, and my joints ache, she admitted. Besides that, I’m fine.

Helena turned towards the edge of Sol River. To her surprise, she could make out Lance and Eleanor perfectly in the darkness, at least with her left eye. They were both standing together at the riverbank and looking down at the reeds, just outside the soft glow of the campfire. Lance’s water magic was off to the side cleaning two fish. She smiled. The Merman had done that for her many times in the past when he had brought fresh fish on his previous visits.

I can see your family too! Atlas said excitedly. Oh! Len, I cannot tell you how wonderful it is to see so many colours. All I have seen for tens of thousands of years is red and black. This is so beautiful.

Helena blinked. She felt something in her left eye. It did not hurt or irritate, but it was there. She shoved herself to her unsteady feet. Lance must have removed her boots and socks at some point in the past two days since they had fled Solas. The grass was soft beneath her feet, and she wiggled her toes through it.

The green is wonderful, Atlas observed, seeing the spring colours through her eye.

It is, Helena agreed.

She shuffled her way over to her family, legs aching with healing burns and cuts. They were so distracted that they did not realise Helena was there before she stepped in between them.

“Len!” Lance exclaimed, eyes widening at seeing her up and about.

He reached out and pulled her to him. Helena leant heavily into his side. She felt so weak after being asleep for two days, her legs wobbly from lack of use.

“What are we looking at?” Helena asked, her fiery eye glowing in the darkness, peering down the riverbank. She sighed into Lance’s shirt, comforted by his support when she felt so fragile. She smiled at the antics of the five animals below. It struck her that she could see them in the complete darkness, at least with her left eye.

“Otters! Aren’t they cute?!” Eleanor exclaimed. She turned to face her mother, and her eyebrows flew up. “I thought I had imagined your eye was orange when I saw it back in Solas. What happened?”

Your daughter is right. The otters are cute, Atlas purred behind Helena’s eye. She felt his soft joy pass over her before it receded again.

Let me focus, Dragon, Helena scolded, before turning her attention to Eleanor. “I have a lot to tell both of you. Let’s have dinner and we can talk.”

Lance shepherded Helena back to her makeshift bed of cloaks and cloth bags, insisting that she rest. She watched as Eleanor helped the High Prince skewer the fish on thick sharpened sticks over the campfire. Her neck prickled as she felt a velvet softness lip the collar of her ruined shirt.

“Hello!” She giggled over her shoulder and looked up. A black muzzle and a pair of quicksilver eyes met her gaze as the horse nibbled at her.

Poor creature, Atlas whimpered. His kind has been warped and enslaved by the Fae as well. A flood of empathy filled her head as the Dragon rustled.