Page 124 of A Soul’s Awakening

Eleanor watched, eyes wide in amazement. Beautiful. The salt tang met her nose. It smells like home.

“Because I’m the High Prince of the Sea,” he replied.

Lance waved his hand, and the water orb quickly dissipated. He picked up his spoon and continued eating his stew. Declan blinked, jaw slack, at the Merman for several moments, before turning back to face Eleanor and Helena.

“I pride myself on knowing things. I didn’t see that one coming,” he admitted.

“Let’s get on with it, shall we?” Helena asked, her voice low, barely audible over the surrounding din of the dinnertime rush. “I hear you want someone to remove the King.”

“That’s right,” Declan replied. He stuffed a bite of buttered bread into his mouth before he began to rifle through the inside pockets of his cloak. He finally fished out a nearly flat copper disk, the size and thickness of a golden Seel coin.

Eleanor watched Lance’s eyes narrow as he studied the coin and wrinkled his nose. “That reeks of fire magic. It’s a different one to the King’s though.”

The Changeling flicked through her mind, thinking of all the faeries she knew of whose magical talent leant more towards fire. I wonder which type of fire faerie’s magic it is. There are Grants, Salamanders, Aibels, and Wisps…

“A Wisp, perhaps?” Eleanor asked.

Declan smiled across the table at her. “Exactly right. How did you know?”

“I’m well-educated, well-read,” she replied with a shrug. The young man ran his eyes over her. Eleanor prickled under his gaze. “What are you looking at?”

“I’m looking at what they did to you. I’m sorry. You’re not the only one who has been abused by the Seelies.” He tucked the fluffy curls on one side of his head behind an ear, accentuating the pointed tip. “If you got away…” He turned his head to Helena. “Then why do you want to kill him?”

The reminder of Rian sent a needling pain over Eleanor. She rubbed her knuckles across her chest and ran a thumb across her forehead. It did not help ease the irritating pain.

“He did something to me. He claimed me and then changed me,” Eleanor answered, before her mother could. “He wove some sort of magic into me that means he can talk to me in my head, come to me in dreams, and pull me to him. He’ll never really let me go.”

“That’s why,” Helena chipped in. She had finished her stew and placed the spoon neatly across the rim of the bowl before wiping her mouth with a rough cotton napkin. “Tell me about this Wisp coin,” she said, pointing down to the innocuous trinket on the table.

“It was made by a Wisp artificer. They wove their magic into the device and its twin,” Declan whispered, leaning across the table. “Its partner will be placed on his carriage just before it leaves Tithe Manor. When this one…” He pointed down at the coin on the table. “Is crushed in your hand, it will ignite the one attached to his carriage. You will need to be close to the carriage for it to work properly.”

Eleanor watched as her mother reached out to grab the Wisp coin. She stopped, hand hovering over the device. “What about the other girls?” Helena asked, retracting her hand again. “I won’t do this if there is a chance any of the other girls are in the carriage, too.”

A muscle feathered in Declan’s jaw as he clenched it.

Eleanor guessed he had no answer to that. “They won’t,” she chimed in. “I learnt from someone in the Manor that the Seelies only travel alone. One carriage, one Seelie. They even travel separately to their wives. The Governess said they preferred it.”

“The Governess?” Helena’s eyes met Lance’s across the table. “She was the one who led us to you, El. I’m sorry, love. She… died trying to help us.”

Eleanor lowered her head, worrying her lip at the revelation. She did not much care for the Governess, but it reminded her of the death of someone she did care about.

“Miss Taylor, too. She was killed trying to stop the Portson Guard from taking me for the Tithe… I feel like it’s my fault.” Eleanor sniffed, squeezing her eyes shut, fighting back the tears. She leant over and rested her head on her mother’s shoulder.

“It’s not your fault, El,” Helena reassured, turning her head to kiss the top of Eleanor’s waves. “It’s theirs,” she growled. “They took you. The Governess, Miss Taylor? Their blood is on the Seelies' hands.”

“Anyway,” Declan coughed, cutting in. “You know that he won’t have his claimed with him, because you have her here. Who cares about the others?” His eyes darted down to the Wisp coin still on the table.

Lance glowered down at him. “That’s an awful thing to say, like they don’t matter at all?!”

Declan’s throat bobbed. “They don’t, not compared to the maybe thousands of faeries indentured to the Seelie Court. Five Changeling girls compared to all of them.”

Eleanor’s eyes widened in shock. They all got changed too… so I’m not the only one? Her minded flashed to the silent, reserved girls she briefly saw in the courtyard. “What are you talking about? They don’t matter compared to the faeries… do you mean the ones with the silver bracelets?”

Declan straightened his back. “Yes.” He lowered his voice. “They would all be free.”

A prickle of irritation needled at Eleanor, scowling at his vague answer. “What do you mean?”

“I mean what I said, they would all be free. When you make a bargain and they put the compulsion bracelet on you, there are three ways out.” Declan held up three fingers. “You’ve served your years.” He dropped a finger. “You die.” Another finger down. “Or the master of the bargain dies.” The final one folded.