Iomhar and the king turned to follow his pointing arm. Fionn was gripped by delight upon seeing Neacel, then rage upon seeing him held captive. Nearby, two more guards were wrestling to get Acha into a harness to restrain her. And worse still, Fionn recognised the leatherback turtle that the guards had fastened into a net.
The water in the entire chamber suddenly tasted dark and sour. Fionn glanced at Rory to find his spines were at full-flex and his skin deep crimson once again. Before Fionn could stop him, Rory darted away to the leatherback and slashed her loose from the net with his claws. He bared his fangs at the guards, who raised their spears uncertainly.
Fionn intervened first. ‘They would never hurt them,’ he assured Rory, sensing there was a chance Rory’s fury could boil over. Even Fionn felt somewhat triggered by seeing the leatherback trapped in a net once again. He placed his hands on Rory’s shoulders, blocking his sight of the guards and their spears. ‘Are these your accomplices?’
Rory nodded.
‘I heard there was a whale, too.’
Rory’s spines settled against his back. ‘She’s outside.’
‘You may release them.’ Iomhar’s voice cut through the tension.
Fionn reached out and unclipped the half-fastened harness around Acha’s middle. He gave her head a good stroke and she nuzzled into it happily.
Neacel dropped from between his guard escort and sent Fionn a bashful wave.
Iomhar departed from the king’s side to speak to Fionn. ‘You may have a moment with your friends. Then you are to join your father in the Aft Tower, you understand?’
Fionn looked past him, to where the king was deep in conversation with the Shaman and several court officials. ‘What is he unable to say to me here?’
Iomhar sighed. ‘He would simply like a private word with you.’
Fionn didn’t know what to think. His heart felt strangely clenched when he looked at his father. Like he was afraid of hoping for too much.
Rory touched his arm. ‘Is everything okay? Are you in trouble?’
‘I don’t know.’ Fionn examined the remaining congregation. The atmosphere had become subdued, full of murmuring and speculation. Perhaps many of them were as worried as the Shaman about possible retribution from the Redfolk. Perhaps they were simply stunned that the ceremony had not gone as planned. Stunned that tradition had been stopped in its tracks.
His thoughts were interrupted by Neacel throwing his arms around both their necks. ‘I knew you’d make it!’
‘Couldn’t have done it without you,’ Rory said. The leatherback swam a slow lap around them while Acha wormed her way into the middle.
Waiting on the periphery of this huddle, Brudus and Drostan floated awkwardly. Fionn broke away from his friends in order to face them.
‘Brothers,’ he said softly. ‘My heart is glad that I haven’t had to leave you, today.’
Brudus hugged him first. ‘I feel I’ve barely known you, big brother, but I’ve always looked up to you. I hated that I wouldn’t get to know you better after this day.’
Drostan was more reserved. ‘I have always sought to match your resolve. I am grateful to still have you here as my brother.’
Strange, these words of love that they hadn’t thought to exchange before. But then, hadn’t Fionn kept his distance fromhis brothers, just as he had from everyone else? Bitterness and jealousy had clouded his view of them when he thought they had been granted lives more worthy than his. But they had seen his worth, all along.
Fionn pulled his brothers into the circle. ‘I want to introduce you to my mate, Rory, and my friend, Neacel.’
Neacel broke off from excitedly congratulating Rory. ‘Hello!’
‘These are my younger brothers, Brudus and Drostan,’ Fionn introduced them. ‘Brudus patrols the northern Minch and Drostan is responsible for the south.’
Drostan clasped Rory’s hand in greeting, though his eyes lingered on the Redfolk features. ‘An honour.’
They began quizzing Fionn on the chain of events that had led to his soul bond with Rory. Fionn recounted the story with joy and a few timely interjections from Rory to stop him from givingtoomuch detail at certain points. They listened with rapt attention and nearly as much awe as Neacel when he described how his feelings for Rory had grown from a spark of respect into a blaze of full-fledged adoration. Rory nodded along with a red tinge to his cheeks and a warm, heady kind of contentment flowing across the bond.
Fionn was rudely interrupted by a palace attendant. ‘The king, Your Highness,’ the young Minchman softly reminded him. ‘Your presence is requested.’
So much for enjoying a moment.
‘Are you ready to face my father?’ Fionn asked Rory.
