Page 64 of Omen of ice
“Do you not call yourselves that anymore?” It sighs. “I’ve been in this lake, unable to leave, for a very long time. Since long before the songs of man faded from this part of the forest.”
“The songs of man have all but faded from the entirety of Derriga,” I say with a sideways glance at Tania. “The druids are the only humans that remain.”
“Thatisa pity. They were all so wicked.” The kelpie licks its fingers. “So very tasty, too.” The creature’s gaze settles on me, and it’s impossible to miss the spark of hunger in its eyes. “Almost as tasty as the Fae. Tell me, young one with the strange eyes. Who are your people?”
“My people?”
The kelpie cocks its head to the other side. A lock of golden hair slides forward, and it absently brushes the strand away. “Your kin? You must have someone. What court were your ancestors affiliated with?”
“I’m simply a wanderer,” I lie. The truth is far too dangerous. These days, knowledge is power. My true identity could be a valuable bargaining tool to a savvy individual. “I’ve never known my kin.”
Tania elbows me out of the way. “You’re Daroose, correct?”
The kelpie nods. “I’ve not heard that name for a very long time, but yes. Yes I am.”
“We came here for something.” Her gaze flickers to the lake. “A golden chest stolen from the trolls at the bridge not far from here.”
The kelpie’s expression is impassive and its stance utterly indifferent. “And you would like me to give it to you? Is that it?”
“We don’t ask for free,” I insert. It’s dangerous to ask a kelpie’s favor without offering something in return. Their temperaments are like the elements—calm one moment and a raging storm the next. You never know what might set one off. Daroose can’t leave the lake, but it could lure us under the water’s surface as simply as it stands before us now. A kelpie’s call is impossible to resist. They thrive on evil and wickedness and kill for sport when the whim takes them. “Would you be willing to offer a trade?”
Daroose approaches the edge of the lake. “Interesting. And what, might I inquire, do you have to offer?”
“What would you ask?”
“I’m a bit peckish. A tasty sinner would be at the top of my list.” Daroose grins. It licks its lips and waggles its brows. “I don’t suppose you might bring me one of those?”
Tania tries—and fails—to hide a soft snicker. “Try again.”
“Am I to correctly assume you wish to cross the bridge? That the return of the golden chest would be your payment to the trolls?”
“Yes,” I say carefully. I don’t like the way it’s staring at me.
Daroose considers my response for a moment before nodding once. “My price is decided. I will give you the chest freely if you agree to open it and give me what’s inside. You must also agree to take me with you as you cross the bridge.”
Tania grins. The wicked twist of her lip and the gleam of mischief in her eyes do odd things to my pulse. “The trolls only asked for the chest—they never said anything about what was inside. Clever.” She points at the kelpie. “I think I like you.”
Daroose beams.
“Don’t tell it you like it! Gods know what it’ll do.”
The kelpie gasps and clutches its chest, mock horror on its face. “I beg your pardon! If the lovely druid wishes to compliment me, she has every right to do so.” It grins at Tania. “In return, might I just say, you are spectacular for a human.”
“Um, thank you?”
“Your skin is nearly flawless, and your eyes sparkle with life!” The kelpie licks its lips.
I snap my fingers between them and glare at the beast. “Careful. That’s its way of saying you’d make a tasty dinner.”
“That’s absolutely false,” Daroose says. “She’s far too small for dinner. Dessert, maybe. But not even close to an entrée.”
Tania stares at it.
Daroose throws up its hands. “Of course, I would never…”
“Of course…” She looks away, trying—and failing—to hide a smile.
This feels wrong. The kelpie is far too chatty, and the effort it puts into presenting itself as a friend worries me. “Didn’t you say you were unable to leave the lake?”
