The Sun Sídhe

7 - Rivers and Sea Serpents

Once we neared the edge of Tirlagh, Aeden shifted into a horse and carried me. It was anything but relaxing: he was as antsy as he was in the form of a man, constantly shifting and adjusting his stride—which meant that me and my bad leg were constantly jostled about. He also kept trying to trot ahead, at which point I'd cuss and yank at his mane or ears, he'd stamp at the ground in protest, and we'd slow to stay besides Ronan. It had to be admitted that when my brother was the one setting the pace instead of me, our progress quickened quite a bit. If this was still too slow for Aeden, I'd hate to see what he thought was a normal speed.

The sun was dipping low into the sky by the time we emerged upon the river bank—or I assumed it was beyond the ever-present clouds, because the daylight was fading. I was immediately struck by a wet, cloying sort of scent, like decomposing flowers. For such a large river—I guessed that it was a good hundred paces across—the water was moving quite fast. The surface was a dark, drab grey-green, roughed by the scattered raindrops and wind that blew across it and directly into my face. The river was different than the ocean, moving with surety and direction rather than the powerful chaos I'd grown used to.

I didn't find it all that impressive.

Aeden paused, tossing his head, and I had the sense that he needed to run his mouth. I swung my legs over his side; Ronan reached up to help lift me off. Even with his support, I stumbled as I struck the ground, agony spiking up my leg.

"Ugh." I spat a strand of hair from my mouth and combed it back, where my braid had once again begun to undo itself. I fought the sudden urge to steal Ronan's knife and hack my hair down to a more manageable length. Not that I could have, since the blade was made with iron. "Now what?"

Aeden's figure shifted from a tall, black horse to the scrappy young man he truly was. He blinked at me and Ronan, his eyes fading from gold to forest green. "We need to cross the river at some point. Might as well do it now."

I stared at him while I extracted myself from my brother. He gave me my walking stick, which he'd been holding onto while I rode. I snatched it from his hand and planted it beneath me for support. "And how do you expect us to do that?"

"Oh, right. You can't fly."

"What the—of course we can't fly! I can barely walk!" I snapped. I tucked my arms to my chest to shelter them from the damp, brisk breeze. "Did you not think of that until now?"

"Not really, no." Aeden laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes flicked across the river before arcing westwards.

"Running water..." Ronan muttered to himself, staring in awe at the river. It took me a moment to remember that he hadn't been this far out of Tirlagh, either. He shook himself and glanced at me and Aeden. "Isn't that hard for the highborn to cross?"

I squinted at the river. I had heard that such things were used to ward us off, just like iron and salt, but I hadn't ever found out for myself. The Rene was far enough away from Tirlagh that I'd never bothered to visit. "Dunno. The sea never bothered me." I edged towards the water. As my boots sank into the mud at the very edge, I felt a faint resistance, as if someone were tugging me backwards. It wasn't nearly as bad as the sharp, painful shove of iron, but enough to be irritating.

"The sea doesn't run in only one direction," Aeden chimed in. "Rivers are annoying, but not impossible. I've been able to ford through one, exhausting as it was."

"Either way, I don't want to swim all the way across." Mainly because I couldn't swim. I grimaced, stepping back onto the slightly-less-muddy ground. "Is there not a bridge somewhere?"

Aeden shrugged. "Why don't we follow it towards the mountains for now? I know there's an area where it thins not too far from here. I'll ferry you both across then."