For two days Kaye had been nauseous. Kindra’s fears and pain were seeping through, despite the barrier Kaye tried to put up between them, and it was terrifying. This was no “Kindra mourning” Kaye’s absence. Something was really wrong. And there was nothing Kaye could do about it.

She turned over on the cot, again, and looked at Timin on the cot behind her. His eyes were open.

“Are you alright?” He whispered.

She didn’t answer right away. She wasn’t, but there was nothing he could do to fix it. “I can’t sleep.”

Abigail and Gabe slept on the other side of the hut, but didn’t wake. When Kaye looked at Timin again, he was propped on his elbows. “Do you want to take a walk?”

A little fresh air always did her good, even if the air in Gaerlom was oppressive with humidity. “Yes.”

They walked in silence until they were out of the village and onto the rocky coast. Timin’s footing was sure over the boulders, and he took her hand to help her navigate the uneven ground. He didn’t let go once they were back on the sand, and she welcomed his steady warmth.

“What’s wrong, Kaye? It’s something more than missing home.”

She looked at the ocean, still surprised that there could be such a large body of water that wasn’t potable. She couldn’t explain her twin-bond to Timin—she’d already tried—so she landed on the other thing that kept her up late at night. “I don’t know if I can go home,” she whispered, then relayed her conversation with Gabe, except the parts about her wings.

Timin was silent for a long moment when she finished. “It doesn’t mean they hurt her.”

“But if they did…”

“You can stay here. Your tribe thinks you’re with the Obsidians.”

Kaye turned to him, breathe catching in her throat as her heart began to race. “What if the Obsidians return?”

He put his hands on the sides of her face. “I told you, I won’t let anyone hurt you. If the Obsidians return, we’ll fight them.”

That made her feel worse, but there was no point arguing. They’d had this conversation before. She took a deep breath, slowed her panic, and continued walking. They topped the cliff as the moon broke free from a cloud. Timin stopped, pointing to the rocks jutting out of the water below. Silkies were perched on top, dark skins shimmering as waves sprayed them with water. A few looked in their direction but found no threat and continued to rest.

“They look strange,” Kaye whispered. “They have heads like dogs, eyes like humans, and fins like fish.”

“They’re silkies,” Timin said, as if the term explained everything. He watched Kaye as she studied them. “You have silkie eyes.”

Kaye turned to him and laughed softly. “So do half the people in your tribe.”

“There is another Legend,” he said, and she looked at the creatures below so her face wouldn't give her fear away. “It’s about the silkies.”

“They are your ancestors.”

“They can become human out of the water. They have strange eyes and hair, and they know magic. They come on shore and use their magic to attract unsuspecting men and women and take them back to the sea, to become silkies themselves.”

Kaye stared at him. “That sounds just like your Legend of the Faye.”

“Maybe.” Timin’s voice was low, husky. “But no one fears the silkies.”

He reached out to tuck Kaye’s hair behind her ears, and she was sure he could feel the blood pounding in her head. No one in Fie Eoin had ever looked at her as he did now—they had always glanced over her as a priestess. It made her breath catch.

“Are you a silkie, Kaye?” He whispered as his hands kept her hair pushed back in the wind.

She was Faye. She was Faye and if she told him he would run her out of the village, or cut her wings off to keep her as his slave. He knew there was something different about her that extended beyond her eyes and hair—she could sense it—but he refused to think she was Faye.

She broke away and looked at the cove below, her heart still racing in her chest. “I’m not a silkie. I’m just a girl from across the mountain.”

Timin dropped his hands but continued to look at her. “No, you’re not like any other girl.” A cloud covered the moon and he looked away, the spell broken.

Kaye swallowed. She wanted to tell him the truth, but Gabe said no. Still, she couldn't resist a few questions. "You aren't scared of me?"

Timin smiled. "No one is afraid of silkies."

She thought about it for a moment. It would be better if she scared him. "I could drown you."

His eyes darkened with pain, and he looked at the cove below. "I've seen you in the water—you're as awkward as a bird. Besides, I'm silkie-kin."

"Silkie-kin?"

"I don't look like everyone else in the tribe. Neither does my father. People say it's because he's a silkie."

"I thought he was from the mountains?" Kaye's voice was soft, her heart reaching out at the veiled look on Timin’s face.

A smile twitched at his lips. "That's what he says, but he never says where. Not even the name of his people. And he has silkie eyes—like you." Timin touched her cheek, searching her eyes for some clue of what she—and he—might be.

"There are many tribes in the mountains with eyes like ours." Actually, the Seven Tribes were the only people Kaye had ever seen with eyes just like hers. All the others had darker eyes like the silkies, and hair like the people of Gaerlom.

"Then why won't he say where he's from? Why hide it if he's from a tribe like yours?"

Kaye shrugged. "What would it mean if he did? Fie Eoin means nothing to you. Why name it?"

"Surely a priestess knows the power of a name?"

She was surprised a fisherman knew. "Perhaps he doesn't want his tribe to hold power over him anymore. If he doesn't name them, they can hold no sway."

Timin looked at her. "You don't mind Fie Eoin having power over you?"

She looked away. "Fie Eoin will always have power over me. I was supposed to be their priestess." She hugged her arms to her chest. She didn't know if it was safe to return, but who was she to say what Aleda had planned for her? And she couldn’t deny the pull that Fie Eoin had—her soul cried to go home, while fear forced her to recoil from the thought.

Timin didn't pursue it. "Let's climb down and catch one."

"Catch one?" Kaye looked at him. "Aren't they sacred?"

"Yes. They return to give life to the tribe. It’s what we all do—live to give life to those who come after us. Their death is an honor."

Kaye stared at the creatures in the cove, wondering if they could be the ancestors of the People of the Sea. Her tribe believed that a person joined Aleda on the other side of the river when they died. "What happens to them?"

Timin gave her a quizzical look. "They’re born back into the tribe."

"So…you’ve been a silkie before?"

He smiled, although the sadness returned. "That's why we don't fear silkies."

She looked away again, wondering what he would say if he knew what she really was.