Lost Beneath the Waves

   “Shhh.” Cassandra admonished the books when Eluned’s back was turned. They stilled, not the calm of sleep but the tense anticipation of a cat waiting to pounce. Cassandra’s eyes narrowed, flicking across the silent shelves. The books stared back. Was that normal? She’d only been in a library when she dusted the Baron of Orchard Moor’s uninspiring collection. She rubbed her arm, still feeling the long-faded bruise of being yanked off the ladder for the audacity of lingering to read the titles.

   “C’mon, Cassy,” Eluned beckoned from the other end of the hall. Her eyes gleamed with mischief and Cassandra’s stomach did somersaults. She’d never thought to find someone who loved an adventure. Most ‘vants kept their heads down, did their jobs. Not Eluned.

   “This way.” Cassandra darted between the bookcases, flitting between shadows cut by the fins of sharks and pilot fish. They glided through the waters above, silent. Waiting.

   “It’s an incredible illusion. It must cost a fortune to power.” Her girlfriend gazed up at the ceiling, eyes wide. Cassandra knotted her fingers behind her back, resisting the urge to run her thumb along Eluned’s parted lips. Rinn had warned she’d meet her soulmate soon, now she’d come of age. He was her godfather and mentor in all matters relating to the fae, but she hadn’t believed him. Everyone on the baron’s estate was too boring, too bound by the rules, and it wasn’t like she’d ever be allowed to leave. Then Eluned arrived in the entourage of a visiting earl and turned Cassandra’s world upside down.

   “The Orchard Moor estates are very profitable and we have our own wind farm.” Cassandra felt queasy saying it. It wasn’t a lie – it wasn’t! – but it wasn’t strictly the truth either. At least, not a relevant truth. The fae taught her never to lie, but they did teach her to conceal. It never bothered her before. Yet now she wanted to blurt out that there was no tech, that it was all magic, despite her promise to tell no one.

   “Are these shelves really made of bone or are you just winding me up?”

   This question at least, Cassandra could answer truthfully. “I promise you, they absolutely are bone. Animal bone.” Mostly. Here, in the outer aisles of the spiralling library, the sections alternated between dark wood trees with shelves instead of branches, and cases made of the bones of deer, rabbits, sheep, dragons, and other animals native to the Túatha homeland. Cassandra preferred not to think about who the bones in the inner sanctum came from.

   “I’d never’ve guessed the baron had a place like this. Do you get to clean here?” Eluned’s glittering gaze turned to her, excitement barely contained.

   An ache thudded in Cassandra’s chest, an old wanderlust she tried to keep buried, an unattainable dream for something more than a life serving those with more money than compassion. She rubbed a tattoo of an apple tree on her wrist, the baron’s mark, a constant reminder of what she was.

   Eluned reached out and grasped her hand, brushing her fingers away. “They don’t own us.” She whispered the heretical words. “They might command our bodies, give us no choice but to obey or starve on the streets, but they can’t imprison our souls.”

   In that moment, Cassandra loved her more than she’d ever loved anyone her whole life. She threw her arms around Eluned’s neck, tilting her head up to the taller girl. Warm lips met hers, just as hungry, just as needy. Lightning lanced down her spine to light a fire in her core as Eluned’s lips parted, inviting her in. Static sparkled across her tongue. Nails left crescents in her hips as they pressed together. Ebony pushed against her vertebrae as she stumbled against a bookcase, tugging Eluned with her. The aroma of fireplace smoke from her girlfriend’s dark hair smothered the scents of glue and paper. It settled in Cassandra’s lungs, becoming part of her. She breathed deep, wanting to take it all in, to keep Eluned with her forever.

   “There’s something I need to show you.” Cassandra threaded her fingers through Eluned’s, clinging tight lest her love slip away like a fae thief. “They have books here on everything. There’s a book about me. There must be one about you too.”

   The rustle of pages grew louder. Something twitched out the corner of her eye. The light dimmed as a whale blocked the sun. Unfamiliar words flew on small gusts of wind. Cassandra stumbled to a halt, eyes darting up and down the empty aisle.

   “Cassandra…”

   Hairs prickled as her skin goosed. She didn’t recognise the voice whispering her name, but it knew her.

   “Cassandra Naeve Tanwen Gwynn…”

   Cassandra’s ears burned as though molten lava coursed through her body. Sharp pain stabbed her chest, stealing her breath.

   “Cassandra Naeve Tanwen Gwynn. Go back.”

   Her feet turned of their own volition as the words penetrated her. She felt exposed, flayed open, a stranger hooking their claws into her soul. No one knew her full name save Rinn. He’d given her ‘Naeve’ on her sixteenth name day, only a week before, to mark her ascension to adulthood. She knew the ancient Túatha’s voice as well as she knew her own father’s. This wasn’t Rinn.

   “Go back.”

   Cassandra planted her feet, soles itching with the need to obey. Instead, she wrapped an arm around Eluned’s waist, pulling her into an alcove. Shadows pressed against them, stealing the last of their heat.

   Eluned giggled, brightness cutting through Cassandra’s dark fear. The sound vibrated through their bodies as Cassandra pulled her love closer. Eluned’s fingers teased the edge of Cassandra’s bodice. Embers crackled in her chest as each touch sparked. She pushed Eluned’s hands away. “Shh.”

   Both girls stood still a moment, breath held, heads cocked.

   “There’s no one there, Cassy. It’s three in the morning. Remember? The light’s just an illusion.” Impatience edged Eluned’s voice, a cold spear to Cassandra’s heart. “C’mon. What’s this book you want to show me? It’ll take a lot to be better than the ocean projection.”

   “Ellie, shh. It’s–” Cassandra bit her lip hard. Her heart hammered against her ribs, not so differently to when they kissed but this time the thrill she felt wasn’t passion. This was the adrenaline of hiding behind the stables, divvying up stolen food with her brother, then hearing the heavy thud of a soldier’s boots. This was the fear that slithered up her gut to squeeze her heart every time the baron’s fingers twitched to his riding crop or he raised his gem-clad hand to strike.

   The rustling grew louder, but Eluned seemed not to hear it. In the uncertain light filtering through the water, the books appeared to shudder. They jerked against the fine silver chains holding them in place. Ink oozed from the pages, dripping viscous from the edges of shelves. Black as gall and red as blood, each suspended drop gleamed. Cassandra touched her throat. She’d only seen a man hanged once, an example of what happened to traitors. Time had stopped as the trapdoor swung open and for a moment he’d hovered there, caught between one second and the next. Then, just like the droplets of ink, he plummeted.

   Bone cracked and Cassandra blanched.

   “Cassy, c’mon. What’s the matter with you?” Eluned’s voice shattered the waking dream, her fingernails drumming impatiently against a femur shelf, the noise magnified to a snap.

   Cassandra rubbed her ears. The ringing was getting louder. “Sorry. Let’s go.”

   A wicked grin split Eluned’s face. “Catch me if you can. You might get a reward.” She winked, then scampered down the aisle, darting between bookcases and disappearing.

   “Ellie, wait.” Cassandra’s plea died in her throat. The breeze was picking up again, although no one called her name. Only fae of the Túatha clan would be there, she reminded herself. It was their library, the one thing they’d pooled all their magic to protect when their homeland sank beneath the ocean, forcing them to flee. No one else could get in. The Túatha wouldn’t hurt her. Wouldn’t hurt her soulmate.

   Eluned’s laughter floated back on the wind, temporarily drowning the ringing in her ears. Cassandra’s chest loosened at the sound. She flexed her tingling fingers. Her lips and tongue fizzled in anticipation. Caution was a slow death. “I’m coming,” she shouted, running after her girlfriend.

   Cassandra slid on the smooth floor as she rounded the corner. Eluned was nowhere to be seen. Her laughter still haunted the air like the lingering scent of smoke. The domed ceiling both amplified and dampened the sound as Cassandra raced between the shelves, twisting and turning, looking for the source. Discordant echoes piled in, coming from every direction.

   “Ellie?” Her own voice was thrown back at her. The laughter heightened, scratching against Cassandra’s eardrums. She gritted her teeth against the cackle as she ran.

   Shadows swam over the bookcases, leaving aisles of ebony dark as midnight and aisles of bone grey as mist. Each footstep echoed, growing, replicating until it sounded like a score of iron-clad boots pursued her. Bookcases creaked, stretched higher and higher, branches entwining over her head. Stone cracked as roots wrenched themselves free. Bones popped and clicked, spindly skeletons reforming. Ink dripped from vacant eye-sockets and hollow chests. A selkie chattered its teeth, the rattle of fate’s dice. Smoke blew from the empty slits of a wyvern’s skull.

   Skeletons of extinct beasts ran alongside her, weaving through the chaos of stone, wood, and parchment. Their claws crackled against the lapis lazuli and baleful sockets stared in accusation. The acrid taste of smoke coated her tongue, singed her nose.

   “Ell– Ellie?” She covered her mouth as she coughed, invisible smoke weighing down her lungs.

   Something brushed against Cassandra’s leg but she kept running, heart in her throat. Something sharp tore at her ankle. Searing pain scored her back like the lash of a whip. Shadows zoomed by, an impression of scales and claws and teeth.

   Books rattled against their chains. Bells rung a warning. A sharp crack sliced the air like lightning as the glass-domed ceiling fractured. Fear flooded her, heart pounding in her ears as she braced for the weight of the ocean to come crashing down.

   Then silence, just for a heartbeat, before a scream rent the air. Cassandra had never heard its like before – deep, pure terror drawn from the gut.

   “Eluned!” She sprinted towards the sound. Books hurled themselves at her, metal-tipped corners leaving trails of blood across her cheeks and raised arms as tried to protect her head. Adrenalin coursed hot through her body, giving her energy she didn’t know she had. Bookcases warped before her, branches sliding into her path to cut her off, roots grasping at her ankles. The ringing became a wail of unknown words in the Túatha tongue. A warning or a lament.

   The ground twisted beneath her and she tumbled. Bones dug into her flesh, closed around her arms, honed to points, dripping blood and ink. Grasping phalanges and metacarpals cracked as she wrenched herself free.

   Another scream turned her blood to ice.

   A great tree blocked her path, shelves within each gaping tear in its trunk. Book covers writhed, faces appearing, screaming, then swallowed.

   “Let me through.” She beat her fists against it. Puffs of laboured breath hung in the air. Tears froze on her cheeks. “I’m sorry, okay? I wasn’t going to tell her about you. I’m sorry. Just let me through.”

    The wind howled, tearing into Cassandra’s hair and clothing. It carried mournful voices singing in an unknown tongue and keened louder than the bells. The earth trembled, sending books cascading from the heights. She looked back, seeking another path, but the bookcases had surrounded her completely, a chequerboard of ebony black and bone white. Overhead, sharks circled as the fractured glass splintered further.

   A flash of light. A scream following like thunder after lightning.

   “Let. Me. Through.” Cassandra threw her meagre weight against the tree. It creaked and swayed in the wind. In its centre, a dark maw opened, surrounded by splintered wood glistening darkly. Through the fissure, she could see a huddled figure with long, black hair. “Ellie!”

   Eluned looked up, her eyes completely black, the whiteless orbs more Túatha than human. Cassandra stumbled back, her whole body numb. Then she dived through the hole.

   She stood in the eye of the storm. Seven bookcases surrounded her, the heptagon stretching up to the ceiling. Each corner was hung with tall skeletons over two metres from skull to toe. Their bones were too thin, too long to be human. This was where Rinn had brought her on her name day. The place she’d intended to show Eluned, where the lives of every Túatha were written. Rinn had given her a book of her own, gifted her a name for her coming of age, just as if she were a fae child. She’d only wanted to give her soulmate the same.

   “Ellie.” She rushed to her girlfriend’s side, snatching up ice-cold hands. “Eluned?”

   Eyes of pooling void stared back at her. Eluned’s grasp tightened, shaking. Her once soft lips were chapped and cracked. Rivulets of dried blood ran down her chin and neck, still viscous where it pearled at her ears. She mouthed words but no sound was forthcoming.

   Cassandra brushed wet hair back from Eluned’s face, leaving smudges of ink on her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I thought it was safe. It’s just a book. Just a name.” She hugged her love tightly, tears streaming down her face. Anger balled in her stomach, hot and acidic. Bile stung the back of her throat.

   She jumped to her feet, fists clenched at her sides as she rebuked the silent remains of those long dead. “Why? Why did you hurt her? I’m the one who brought her here. She doesn’t know your secret. Fix her. Right now. You’re supposed to be good. Rinn said you were good. How dare you do this to her? She’s innocent. If you need to take vengeance on someone, take it on me. Are you listening?”

   “I’m listening, Dreacht.”

   The soft voice and the use of Rinn’s personal nickname stoppered her tirade. Now he’d spoken, she picked Rinn out of the shadows in a second, his long, off-white robes almost camouflaging him against the bones of his ancestors.

   She ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist and burying her face in his stomach. “Why have you hurt her, Rinn? She didn’t do anything.”

   Long fingers stroked her back, soothing her hiccupping sobs. “I did nothing, little Dreacht. She is human. I have told you before it is unhealthy for your kind to spend too long in the shadow of Faerie.”

   “But I’m here.”

   “You are special.”

   “No. I’m not.” She pulled away, chin jutted out as she glared at him. “I’m just the daughter of a stable-hand and a cook. All I can do is clean things. It’s all I’ll ever do.” She pressed her thumb hard against the tattoo on her wrist as though she might rub away the baron’s mark.

   “There is always a choice, Dreacht.”

   “What choice do Ellie and I have? Work for the nobility for practically nothing or go starve on the streets? No one would hire a runaway. They won’t… they won’t even…” Her throat tightened as she choked back tears. “They won’t even let us be together. When the Earl of Davenport finishes his visit, he’ll take her away. She’s my soulmate and I’ll never see her again.”

   Rinn caressed the tears from her cheeks. “I do not understand why your kind count sixteen springs as adulthood. I read of the volatile nature of humans at this age but I thought nothing could make my little Dreacht more impetuous. Alas, I once again underestimated your knack for trouble.”

   She sniffed, wiping her nose on a scrap of cloth from her pocket. “Can you make her better? I’ll do whatever I have to. Even if it kills me. This is my fault.”

   He smiled and the knot in her stomach loosened a little. “It is the nature of our kind to find rules uncomfortable. But an oath I must have from you, sworn on your true name, that you will not allow any human to see into our world again. For their sake as well as ours. There is much you do not know, of wars between our races, raging in silence and shadow, and of magic and physiology.”

   He held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. He beckoned to Eluned who unfolded as if strings lifted her from the floor. Her legs jerked, a marionette miming motion. Cassandra shrank back, half stepping behind Rinn, as Eluned’s arm lifted and Rinn took her hand.

   A pedestal arose in the centre of the room, adorned with rose gold. Dust motes danced in a cascading stream of sunlight. Cassandra glanced up at the domed ceiling, expecting to see the fissures in the glass widening, but the dome was once again clear and whole. The sharks had gone, leaving only glittering schools of small, silver fish that glinted like a chandelier in the wind.

   A book with a mossy cover lay on the pedestal and Rinn opened it to a page marked by green silk. Peeking out from the bottom, sapphire and ruby silks marked other, later, pages. Emerald words seeped up through the pages. Cassandra recognised the runic writing of the ancient language of the Túatha but they never let her learn their tongue, not even explaining the odd nickname they’d given her.

   “Why can’t I read it? When you showed me my book on my name day, it was in my language.” She touched the delicate letters, a frown creasing her brow.

   “The library translated for you. Ze welcomed you since you are named in zir archives and I travelled the path with you. Now, ze knows there is something alien in zir bowels, an enemy. Ze tried to cleanse the taint by making Eluned akin to us.”

   “You talk as though the library were alive, Rinn.”

   A playful smile graced his lips. “After what you have seen today, are you so certain ze is not?”

   Cassandra’s breath caught. She looked around again, at the skeletons staring down at her, at the twisting trees of bookshelves, at the dome holding back the ocean. Then at Eluned, rigid as a statue save trembling fingertips. Cassandra took her girlfriend’s hand in hers. “She’s seen you now. You won’t… you won’t kill her will you?”

   Rinn wrapped an arm around her shoulder in a half-hug. “We do not murder children, unlike those locked away in Faerie. She will not remember this place nor anything associated with us save in her nightmares. To remake her entirely is beyond my ken. Even with her true name, a small sliver of the library’s madness will remain for the rest of her life. Gone are nights of easy sleep and days of carefree adventure. It is unlikely she will venture far from home again.”

   “Can’t Eluned and I just stay with you? She’s my soulmate.” She bit her lip as she awaited his response.

   Rinn placed a warm hand on her head. “She cannot stay with us. Her condition would only worsen. But rest assured, she is not your soulmate. Her name is not written in your book.”

   A lump rose in Cassandra’s throat, tears burning her eyes. Rinn said he loved her yet he’d reached into her chest and ripped out her heart. “She is. You said–”

   “Your soul will know when you find its mate.”

   Cassandra bit hard on her cheek. Her

soul did know. Didn’t it? She glanced at Eluned out the corner of her eye. She was beautiful with her straight, black hair and eyes that had sparkled with fun. She’d wanted more than their life gave them, wanted adventure, unlike everyone else Cassandra knew. Was that enough?

   “She won’t remember me, will she?”

   “That is the sacrifice you must make, will always have to make. To know of Faerie separates you from humans. You cannot live fully in their world, nor can you bring them into ours. You must swear to this.” As he spoke, Rinn placed Cassandra’s hand on the open book. The writing continued, visible even through her flesh, and she could feel a thrumming pulse beneath her hand.

   Words appeared in her mind, brilliant as fireworks, and the whispers on the wind joined her, stealing each syllable as it dropped from her lips. “By my name, given to me by my grandmother at my birth and my godfather at my naming, I, Cassandra Naeve Tanwen Gwynn, do swear to tell no human the truth of any fae folk, place, or power, nor seek to circumvent the spirit of my oath by any trickery or negligence.”

   She sank to her knees, all energy sucked from her. Ink formed a rune on her palm before being absorbed into her skin. Her legs felt leaden and her head throbbed. She rubbed her forehead, trying to clear her murky thoughts.

   Eluned stood silently as though nothing had happened. Her skin was clammy and cold when Cassandra scrambled to her feet to touch her girlfriend’s pale cheek.

   The book on the pedestal morphed, the air shimmering with heat. It shrunk, the cover changing to a dull grey. It had no bookmarks, the edges of the pages were charred, and smoke rose from it as though it had just been rescued from a fire.

   Cassandra wrinkled her nose,

stepping closer to Eluned. Their bodies pressed together lacked the heat she’d felt when they entered the library and their touching hands no longer sent tingles up her arm. “Is that her book?”

   “No, she does not have a book in the annals of our people. This book is… I believe you would say ‘borrowed’.”

   “From where?”

   “A place in between.”

   “What does–”

   “Shush. Her soul has been banished to the deep, I must return it to her.” Rinn took Eluned’s face between his hands. She stared up at him, eyes glassy as a doll. A warm breeze fluttered their clothes, laden with the tang of salt and carrying the call of gulls and the woosh of the waves. Rinn whispered in Eluned’s ear, too softly for Cassandra to hear.

   The darkness oozed from Eluned’s eyes, black tears streaking her cheeks, until her irises cleared and the only darkness remaining was captured in pinprick pupils. With a soft sigh, Eluned collapsed into Rinn’s arms, numb fingers slipping from Cassandra’s grasp.

   “No.” Cassandra clutched at her girlfriend’s hand but Rinn pushed her back.

   “Do not touch her. She is safe, but beyond you now.”

   “What did you do? Why are her eyes blue? They were hazel.”

   “I called her by her true name and restored her to that which she was, but she will carry the madness of the deep within her always. I will return her to the estate and when she awakes she will remember neither this place nor you.”

   Cassandra sniffed, rubbing the pooling tears from her eyes. “Will it always be like this, Rinn? Will I always be alone? What does the book say?”

   “The future is shrouded in mist, not written and bound. Your story will forever be recorded here, but it is you who chooses the path.”