The Orange Cat & other Cainsville tales by Kelley Armstrong Page A

underwater—”
    A yelp. High-pitched, almost animal-like. Then a hiss that I knew came from Ricky. I rocketed from the thicket, racing in the direction of his hiss. I saw him falling back. By the time I drew close, though, he was running. Up ahead was a figure the size of a small woman, blond hair flowing behind her as she ran for the water.
    Ricky tore after her with me in pursuit. A splash. I came around a tree just in time to see her feet disappear as she dove. Ricky stood on the edge, cursing.
    “Follow?” I said. “Yes, I know, following a water fae into her lair is not the wisest idea.”
    “Yeah.”
    “Or the safest.”
    “Yeah.”
    “So . . .?”
    He yanked off his shirt. We both stripped down and dove in.

    Eight - Ricky
    Liv had said the water would be cold. It should have been. Night was falling fast. So when they dove, Ricky braced for an icy blast. Instead, the water was the same temperature as before. Like an indoor swimming pool. That didn’t make sense. Not only was the sun setting, but its rays would hardly have touched the surface of the swimming hole during the daytime. The water shouldn’t have been this warm. Moreover, Laurel had mentioned the theory that the hole was glacial in nature. The deeper the body of liquid, the colder it should be.
    He swam close enough to Liv to be sure the woman beside him is definitely her and not the fae. He could tell the difference now, even with the dark water. The fae’s skin was paler, her hair lighter and longer.
    As for the fae herself, Ricky could just barely make her out under the water, a light blur against the darkness. She’d gotten a serious head start on them, and they had to swim fast underwater just to keep her in view. Then they hit a snag with their pursuit—unlike the fae, they needed a little thing called oxygen.
    Liv would never be the first to give in. If he went up, though, she’d follow, and she did. A quick gasp of air and back down . . . to discover they’d lost the fae.
    Ricky swore Liv’s growl of frustration vibrated through the water as she whipped around, looking in every direction. When he swam past her, his hand scraped rock. When they’d surfaced, they’d been under the rocky overhang, and Liv had found the cavern by jumping from that spot. Presumably, it was nearby. Also presumably, that’s where the fae would go to hide.
    As he felt his way along the rock, Liv got the idea and did the same, staying within sight. It was Ricky’s foot that found the opening first, right when he’d been about to go up for air. He dove down and found that, yes, this was a passage leading into a cavern. He was about to suggest they take turns getting air first, but Liv shot past him through the cavern passage. He followed, and they surfaced, their gasps echoing in the chamber.
    When Ricky caught his breath, he said, “I heard what you were saying up top. Cold air? Warm mouth?”
    “Are you proving it’s really you?” she said. That was a trick they used if they thought she might have passed into a vision.
    “That works, too,” he said. “But I was just pointing out that I did hear your offer, and I plan to take you up on it. You are forewarned.”
    “I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t mean it. Rain check?”
    He chuckled. “I wasn’t going to take you up on it right now. You have a mystery to solve. I’ll wait until I can get your undivided attention.” He looked around. “So, now we need to find a second passage, right?”
    “Correct.”
    They found that and went through. When they emerged, Ricky looked around and said, “So we have another spooky, dark cavern. Any idea where . . . ?” He turned to see a faint glow behind him. “That way to the castle?”
    “I believe so.”
    They swam until they reached a rocky ledge. Liv hauled herself out, and he paused to watch. She reminded him of the selkies in his gran’s fae books. There was one picture he’d been particularly fond of as a boy: a selkie pulling herself onto