I nodded resolutely and took a step towards the water, my feet hitting the surface and staying above it.
I walked like a youngling balancing on a fishing line. Cautious, but hurried.
My blood tingled the closer I got to the stranger on the lake. Hot and cold, alternating between the two. Every inch of my skin prickled with nerves.
The water undulated below my feet, urging me forward impatiently. Soon, I ran down the slope, my feet slapping the water as I greeted the lone figure at speed.
He glanced over his shoulder, barely acknowledging me. He wore a floor-length cloak, open at the waist. His body was soft, his skin as pale as a fish’s belly. His hair was curly, but wiry and grey.
I was unused to seeing the effects of age.
The Twilight Lake did not have many elder Fae. In fact, I’d only recently learned how long-lived Sídhe could be. Sídhe aged so slowly that it was thousands of years before a wrinkle or a grey hair formed. Many used glamour to change their appearance regardless of the physical signs of aging.
The male in front of me was no Sídhe.
His eyes were black, endless pools. They seemed to move like the waves of the sea, making me nauseous to look at them.
He did not smile as he met my gaze. He jerked his chin toward the shore. “That one of mine, Lass?”
“One of yours?” My voice was hoarse, the words out of my mouth before I realized it.
“A cursed one. A Mer.”
“He’s mine.” My jaw hardened. I forced myself to look into his eyes, even if it made my stomach roil.
“Hm.” The male chuffed.
“Manannán mac Lir.” I squared my shoulders. “You summoned me here.”
His lips twisted. Brow furrowed. “Did I?” He seemed adept at playing the doddering old man, even if his sharp eyes said otherwise.
“Your attendant. The dragon.” I waved my hand towards the sky.
“Ah.” Manannán mac Lir nodded, looking up. “My lagoon. Not many souls wind up there, to be sure. Though a Mer falling into that lagoon started their whole mess.”
“Yourlagoon.” I echoed.
“Aye.” Manannán mac Lir turned away. “I can read your thoughts, God-Child. You’re wondering if the dragon is one of Lir’s infamous children.”
My cheeks burned. “And if I were?”
“I’d tell you that Lir’s children were not cursed to become dragons, but swans. That the warlock that cursed them is long dead.” He squinted as he eyed the cloudy sky. “Lir was my father. I am Manannán mac Lir.”
“And the dragon?” I asked.
“Sometimes a dragon is just a dragon.”
Silence, save for the rush of waves and the cold spray from the lake.
“Did I die?” I sucked my lips between my teeth, imagining I could do the same to my question. I didn’t want to hear the answer.
“I am Manannán mac Lir. God of the Otherworld. God of the Sea and all the beasties that reside within it.” He finally turned to face me. “You’re not dead.”
“I’m not?” I stuttered.
He shrugged. “Whatever you are is still up for debate.”
I puffed up my chest. “I know who I am.”
