Page 19 of Nyall

“I understand the most important command you gave, for us find the sons of Mar for you.” She smiled. “Our sister Dearg’s recovered from her injuries, and she’s our best tracker in this part of the sea, so I didnae wish wait another night.”

“Idiot.” Derdrui made an impatient sound. “Did you also forget that tomorrow the full moon arrives?”

“Aye, and we’ll anchor before the change comes over us.” Speal nodded toward the cabin. “You should remain indoors and away from us then, my princess. The Cait Sith dinnae reckon with mortal minds when we become our true selves for the night.”

“Were you proper Fae, you might control the change.” The enchantress sighed. “Very well. How are you tracking the MacMar?”

“We’re hunting them near where we captured the pair who escaped us.” Dearg appeared beside Speal, looking sweetly wholesome in a fresh silk gown and all the dried blood washed from her shining curls. “I should like my sister serve as our leader for a time, my sovereign. My head, ’tisnae quite healed yet, and my thoughts remain muddled.”

Derdrui gave her a narrow look. “You’re too frail, you halflings.” To Speal she said, “What of the mortal I desire?”

“We’ve none aboard, but we shall procure one for you at the earliest chance, my princess,” she assured her.

The enchantress stalked back into the cabin, slamming the door so hard the entire upper deck shook.

“Like us she’s close to change,” Dearg murmured, her expression turning dreamy. “I’ve never once seen her birth form.”

“No one shall.” Why the little fiend would wish witness such, Speal didn’t know. “Therion Fae, they’re known to drive mortals mad with a single glimpse of how they truly appear.”

“Another reason to despise our half-mortal blood, then.” The little shifter pouted. “I’m hungry, but I dinnae trust our sisters. They all desire me dead and shall poison me. Fetch me some food.” She saw her face and quickly added, “Or take me where I might eat some.”

Speal took her down in the hold, where Teine was preparing meals. The one-eyed shifter shoved a plate of food in Dearg’s hands, while the other Cait Sith gave her ugly looks.

“You should dine on deck,” Speal suggested. “Else someone decide stuff you and put you to roast.”

“Reckon you I’m shamed?” Dearg’s pouty lips curved. “All of us saw Fiacail grow soft and sentimental these last years. I say I did our sisterhood a great service by ending her.”

Teine hurled a blade at her head, which the little shifter dodged at the last moment. “Shut your mouth, you wee fiend.”

“If Derdrui orders you slay Speal for failing her, what then?” Dearg demanded, dropping her plate and marching up to the maimed shifter. “Shall you die for love of a sister who didnae obey our sovereign, or proper protect you?”

“I’d find another way,” Teine assured her. “As Speal did with you.”

That silenced the defiant shifter, who took her food over to a deserted spot, crouched down and ate with a sullen expression. Speal filled two mugs with ale and brought them over, handing her one before she lowered her bulk down to sit beside her.

“We’ve returned to the spot where we captured Fletcher MacMar and his lover,” she told her. “You’ve managed a small skiff when you lived in the islands, aye?”

Dearg frowned at her. “We’re safer on the big boat, numpty.”

“I need go somewhere the vessel cannae.” She took out the map and unfurled it enough to show her the place she’d marked. “The seneschal kept looking at this island.”

Dearg took the map from her and peered at it. “I ken the place. Ronalsee, ’tis hardly more than a great boulder in the sea. The Norse once kept a raiding camp, but ever they left when the snows came. ’Twas ever too barren and cold for other mortals dwell there year-round.”

“I reckon the MacMar use the place somehow. Mayhap their fishers take their catches there so they may clean and smoke them.” Speal glanced up at the deck overhead. “’Tis worth a trip, and we shall return before nightfall.”

“A skiff shall hold but two of us—ah, I see. You intend strand me on that rock once I change so I may starve, and tell our sovereign I met with a mishap?” The small shifter made a rude sound. “Just end me quickly. I tire of your games.”

She took hold of Dearg’s plate, setting it aside before she caught her hands and held them as she looked into her beady dark eyes. “’Tis a chance to prove your worth to the enchantress and our sisters. Do thus, and mayhap you shall earn back your life, and our trust.”

As she said that with her mouth, she poured into Dearg’s mind all the love she had for the Cait Sith. Although losing Fiacail had hurt them deeply, they could not bring back their eldest sister. They needed their sovereign to keep her promise to provide them all with an enchanted sanctuary where they might live apart from all mortals in eternal peace and prosperity. To do so, they had to lead Derdrui to the MacMar Clan.

Dearg’s eyes took on a watery gleam as she clutched Speal’s hands. “You would again name me your sister, and welcome me among you? Truly?”

“Aye, you wee pest.” Teine crouched down in front of her. “Go with Speal and learn what you may from the place.”

Dearg hurled herself at Speal, hugging her tightly. She patted her back and looked up at the maimed shifter, who had drawn her dagger and held it ready to strike.

I spoke truth, Speal signaled with her hand behind the little shifter’s back. We need her.