Author's Note: This was my NaNo project for 2020. Thanks to my friends on the Kingdom of Sarah J. Maas discord server for being my betas!


I strolled casually along the pier. The Velaris docks were busy today, with new shipments arriving and plenty of fae out shopping in spite of the cool weather. It had taken some time for trade to pick up again after the war with Hybern, but not as long as any of us had feared. Now, almost five years later, the sea trade was thriving.

I kept my hood up, my scarf tucked tight around my face. It was just cold enough to not seem suspicious, and while I didn't usually feel the need to hide from my people, today was different. Today I was hunting.

It had been long years since Rhys named me his huntress and thief, but some memories linger like ghosts. Today I was hunting another ghost of a memory, one not given to me by my mate but by the Bone Carver. A boy with Rhys's face and my smile. Our son.

A son who remained as-yet unconceived. I knew that children were rare among the High Fae. I knew that. But it didn't stop me from worrying that I hadn't yet fallen pregnant after years of trying—fervent trying. I fought off my blush at the memories and refocused on my task.

I'd heard a story, part rumor, part gossip, murmured with just enough reverence to make me question if there was more to it. Some kind of magic that women could use to encourage pregnancy. It wasn't the first time I'd investigated such tales, but most had turned out to be rubbish. Even those with a scrap of truth behind them hadn't helped me conceive.

The most common versions of the rumor I was hunting today mentioned a certain midwife, Talissa, who lived near the docks, and so it was her that I intended to speak with today. By itself, there was nothing unusual about the High Lady speaking with a midwife. I had already consulted with Madja, as well as several midwives she recommended, but to a one they had all counseled the same thing: patience. Not one of my strong suits. But beyond that, I had a feeling there was something more to it. And I had learned to trust my instincts.

When I'd casually mentioned Talissa to Madja, the healer had wrinkled her nose and pursed her lips, loath to speak ill of another in her field but unable to resist cautioning me against her. "There's a reason you'll only hear her name whispered in small, quiet circles, lady, and not praised across the land for her miracles." She saw my interest at the word miracles. "Yes, she may get results, but at what cost? No one who sees her will talk of her methods. All who succeed are changed in some way. No child should be born under that burden."

I mulled over Madja's words for days—she was our healer for a reason and I valued her advice. But in the end, I knew I would still have to speak with this Talissa myself or I would always wonder.

I found her shop nestled in a row of neat buildings right there on the pier. It was covered in a layer of slick brine, like everything that sat too near the sea, but otherwise looked just as respectable as any of the shops on the street—and yet something was different about it. Most of the shops were busy, customers in and out periodically, or people pausing on the walk to gaze in the windows.

No one looked in the windows of Talissa's shop. In fact, eyes turned away to avoid it and steps sped up until people had passed by. My brow furrowed as I frowned at the shop. I couldn't detect anything that would cause that reaction, but there it was.

I shrugged my shoulders a little uncomfortably. At least it served my purpose. I didn't want to be noticed and it only helped me if the shop didn't want to be noticed either. I fell into step a few paces behind a trio of ladies who were chatting amicably with each other. When they reached the border of Talissa's and inevitably began to hurry past it, I increased my pace as well, but as they swept past the entrance, I slipped through the door without slowing.

The inside of the shop was bright and cheerful, with dried herbs and powders and rows of tiny bottles like any other apothecary. And yet, I shivered. I could feel it now—the urge to leave, to be somewhere else, anywhere else. I didn't know who this shop wanted but it wasn't me. But I didn't care. I squared my shoulders and stepped up to the counter just as a green-skinned faerie emerged from the back.

She hesitated in the doorway when she saw me, tilting her head. Long blue-black hair shimmered and rippled with the motion and I saw something unreadable flash across her face before it was replaced with a welcoming smile.

"High Lady," she said, bowing her head respectfully. "An honor to see you in my humble shop." Her voice was surprisingly low and rough.

I pulled my scarf down and pushed back my hood, then nodded in response. "I've heard many things about you. You are Talissa, are you not?"

"Yes, lady," she said. She was trying to keep her eyes lowered but I noticed her sneaking glances at my face. Normally such subservience would bother me, but something about this place had me on edge and I didn't mind Talissa recognizing my power.

"Good." I stepped forward and placed my hands flat upon the counter. I waited until the next time she glanced up and then met her eyes boldly, almost a challenge. "I'm looking for some information."

She did not flinch from my gaze, nor did she move from where she stood in the doorway. I noted the tension in her body, as if she wasn't sure if she should approach the counter where I stood or flee back into safety. "I know what you seek," she said slowly. "The Old Wives' Tail."

I blinked. I had chased many old wives' tales, but there was an unusual emphasis in the way she said it. "I've heard the story—"

Talissa waved a hand dismissively. "It's not a story. She is not a story." Seeing my confusion, she sighed. "You'd best come in." She nodded over her shoulder toward the back of the shop, and added frankly, "You look like you don't want to be seen, and I don't want to be interrupted." Striding over to the front door, she flipped the sign around to indicate the shop was closed. "Come along then," she gestured, disappearing through the doorway without checking to see if I was following.

I stepped around the counter and through the doorway cautiously, my eyes scanning quickly to take in the details of the room. It was almost as large as the shop, doubling as both an office and a sitting room, with another area partially hidden behind a curtain that included a small cot and trays with potions and polished tools and instruments. Not her bedroom, but a place to treat patients.

I was still surveying the room when Talissa set a tray on the small table, taking one of the comfortable looking chairs and motioning that I take the other. I sat stiffly, watching her pour the tea. With a nod of thanks, I sipped the drink, cupping the mug in my chilled hands. As the warmth seeped into me, I felt some of my tension slip away. "Thank you," I said with a small smile.

Across from me, Talissa's reaction had almost mirrored my own. She rolled her shoulders, letting them drop with a sigh as she leaned back in her chair and eyed me over the rim of her cup.

"So," she began. "The Old Wives' Tail." Again, that peculiar emphasis.

"Who is … she?" I prompted impatiently.

Talissa lowered her teacup to her lap and stared into it. "A mermaid. You're looking for a mermaid."

I stared blankly at her. "Mermaids are real." After years in Prythian, I was no longer surprised at anything I discovered. Often what I felt was closer to annoyance. Of course mermaids were real. As High Lady, I had a responsibility to my people and I didn't like it when I found gaps in my hasty education, things that were considered common knowledge to others.

Talissa didn't seem bothered by my tone. I probably wasn't the first to be skeptical about consulting with mermaids, though perhaps the first to doubt their very existence. "It's said that one of her scales, when ground into a tonic and taken by both parties, will encourage pregnancy."

I frowned. "You're talking about an aphrodisiac."

"I know my work," she snapped, her eyes flashing. "I've seen the results. This is no mere mood enhancer." She sneered the words and I found myself sympathizing. I myself had snapped at plenty of other midwives, who were convinced most problems stemmed from a couple simply not—trying hard enough.

I mumbled an apology and took another sip of tea thoughtfully. "So grind up the scale, drink the tonic before sex, and that's it?" There had to be more, or else the city would be overrun with children and Talissa—along with this Tail—wouldn't have such a questionable reputation.

She seemed to sense the direction of my thoughts. "The hard part is obtaining the scale," she said with a small smirk.

I raised my brows. "And that's where you can help?"

I reached for my purse and saw how her eyes gleamed as she took in the heavy weight of it. Opening it, I silently set a single coin on the table. Then another. And another. I kept stacking the coins one by one, watching her face carefully. She swallowed as she took in the wealth being laid out before her. "Tell me," I implored her as I set the last coin down with a clack.

"You must head north, along the pier," she answered at once, her eyes locked greedily on the pile of coins. "Keep going past the end of the pier. There will be a path, unpaved. Look for a cave with a pool inside and that's where you will find the Tail."

"And then?"

Her eyes flitted to mine and her lips curled into a sly smile. "Well, you don't kill her, Cursebreaker," she drawled, causing me to twitch. The title was still mine, but rarely used these days.

"What then?" I asked sharply. "Bargain?"

Talissa lifted one delicate shoulder in a shrug. "Possibly. No one who goes will ever say."

"You haven't gone yourself?"

"Do I look like I want a child?" She sounded almost insulted.

I snorted. "Fine." I added two more coins to the stack and stood. "Tell no one I was here."

She bowed her head again. "Of course, lady."

I didn't bother to be circumspect as I left, trusting in whatever magic kept people from wanting to notice anything about the shop. I walked for several blocks before I stopped, leaning against the low stone wall that bordered the street as I stared out at the sea to think. It had taken me longer than I'd hoped to find Talissa. Hiking to this mysterious cave would take even longer. Did I have enough time before someone came looking for me? Did I dare wait, attempting to conceal my thoughts from my mate?

I quickly stalked north along the pier, my hood and scarf again concealing my features as I mulled over Talissa's words, feeling grumpy. So there were mermaids. I didn't like being reminded of my own ignorance. I didn't like relying on some midwife of questionable repute. I didn't like asking her to keep my secrets. I didn't like keeping secrets.

One last row of shops and then the stone road of the pier broke off. There was a short drop, only a few feet, and then a dirt path that snaked up and along the rocky cliffs that bordered the city. I didn't pause as I hopped down the small distance from the road to the path.

I tried to hurry as I traversed the rocky ground, but the wind picked up as I climbed and I had to watch my steps carefully. The drop off the cliff didn't scare me, but the shock of being swept off it plus having to summon my wings would likely attract Rhys's attention, and I didn't want to have to explain what I was doing until it was done.

At last I spied the cave, though it wasn't much of one. It looked more like a jagged crack in the rocks, as if something had burst out of them. I summoned a faelight and held it into the mouth of the crevice, revealing that it continued deeper into the side of the cliff in much the same way—jagged and broken, not really a flat floor to speak of. I sighed. If I sprained an ankle on some hare-brained goose chase, no one would ever let me live it down. Nonetheless, I set the light to float near my head so I could use both hands to steady myself as I clambered over the fallen rocks and rubble.

Luckily, there were no other turns or tunnels to keep track of. Just a single, gently sloping hole into nothingness. The angle grew more drastic further down and I found myself practically clinging to nearby boulders and outcroppings, my feet slipping on any bit of loose gravel that I didn't notice in time. Eventually walking became all but impossible, so I slipped and slid, cursing through the last bit and finally tumbling into a wide open cavern.

Looking up, I could see that the hollowed out space was tall, so tall that it opened to the sky, though little light made it to the bottom. The cavern was roughly circular with a pool in the middle, water gently lapping at the walls as it eddied with the tide. From the marks around the edges of the cavern, it looked like the water rose fairly high. The tunnel I'd come through might even be below the water level at times. Lucky that I'd come when the tide was out.

I brushed myself off and looked around, but I didn't see anything that looked alive. "Hello?" I called, and my voice echoed eerily, almost as if I was underwater. I stepped closer to the pool, bringing my light with me, and peered into the water. It had looked endless and murky at first, but with the light shining into it I could see that it was really not very deep at all. Something in that water called to me.

I stepped into the pool. The water was icy cold but only came halfway to my knees. I waded out to the center, and let my faelight die. Cool blue light, dimly reflected off the rippling water and slick walls, was all that remained. The water lapped almost hungrily at my calves. Slowly, I lowered myself until I knelt, shivering. "Please," I whispered, not knowing if anyone was listening. "Please."

I thought I was imagining it at first, but the movement of the water began to change. Instead of the lazy rippling in-and-out with the tide, it began to swirl. A wide, gentle whirlpool with me at its center. I tried to stand, but the water refused to release me, tethering me to its heart. My heart pounded as I felt an ancient, unfamiliar magic rise up around me.

Over the rushing sound of the water, something else reached my ears. Whispers, whispers from beneath the waves, hissing and burbling as they called to me. I strained to make out the words.

"No life ... can come ... from the dead."

I frowned, wondering if I'd misheard. "I'm not dead," I told the water.

"No life can come from the dead."

"Neither is Rh—my mate."

"Dead is dead," the water sighed. "Dead is dead."

I slapped a hand at the water, more angry than afraid. "I'm alive! We're alive!"

The water swirled higher, climbing the walls to surround me even as it stayed at the level of my knees in the center. The watery voices grew louder. "Alive … but not always."

Directly in front of me, my own face appeared in the swirling waters. No, my human face. Human Feyre's eyes were glazed, staring at nothing, her neck twisted at an impossible angle. I swallowed, but before I could think of a response, Rhys's face appeared. His eyes were blessedly closed and he might've been sleeping but—I knew better. I looked away quickly. That moment, that realization that he was gone, would haunt me for the rest of my life.

My breath caught and I shoved away the devastating memories as I realized what the water was trying to show me. I had died. Rhys had died. No life can come from the dead.

"But we're alive now!" I protested.

The water surged around me and I looked up. The ghastly faces had vanished but now I knelt at the center of a veritable waterspout. I felt a pulse of magic echo all around me and then a dark shape slithered through the spinning water. Glowing eyes flickered from within as it circled me. I thought to reach for my own magic, for my weapons, but something held me fast. Something that kept me locked in place, unable to move, unable to act. Not fear. Some other power. All I could do was kneel in the middle of that raging water, clenching my fists on my thighs, and watch as the creature observed me. I wondered what it saw.

It burst through the wall of water, showering me with salt and sand. I blinked the burning water from my eyes and shook my wet hair out of my face.

The creature could have been called a mermaid, but it—she was nothing like the beautiful slender women carved on the bows of ships. This mermaid was a giant in comparison, with muscular arms and ridges of barnacle-like protuberances that looked like they were growing right out of her flesh. Her hair was made up of thick strands in murky seaweed green that floated around her in a phantom wind, as if she were still submerged. I gulped in air, feeling the need to confirm that there was in fact still air to breathe.

And her tail—there was something predatory about her tail. It glittered with oily black scales and might have belonged to some kind of eel, but certainly no fish that I'd ever seen.

She studied me with wide milky eyes, eyes made for surviving in the deepest parts of the ocean, and grinned darkly. "So," she said, slapping her tail against the rocks, "Feyre Cursebreaker comes to me." There was something triumphant, something of a challenge, in her voice and I raised my chin, shaping my expression into the familiar arrogant disdain that I wore in the Court of Nightmares.

"You may address me as High Lady," I said coolly.

She barked a laugh, hoarse and cackling, and I suppressed a shudder at the rows and rows of needle-like teeth. "What curse do you have, High Lady Cursebreaker, that this old Tail might break but you cannot?"

"It's not a curse," I growled. "I just want to have a child."

The Tail cocked her head at me. "So certain about that, are you?" I knew she wasn't referring to my desire for children.

I scowled. "Fine, call it a curse. Can you break it?"

She grinned again, all of those pointy teeth shining with gleeful malice. "No."

I blinked and gaped at her, and the Tail, delighted by my dumbfounded expression, laughed and laughed. Angrily, I struggled against my watery bonds, fighting to rise, but I was as helpless as a child.

The Tail's laughter trickled off and she wiped at her eyes, though it was impossible to tell the difference between the seawater and her tears. "For making me laugh, Cursebreaker, I will give you a gift."

I stiffened. "I don't want it," I said automatically, recoiling when she leaned in close.

"Don't you?" she asked. "Do the stories still say you need one of my scales?" That deadly tail cracked against the rocks again. I stared at it, trying to imagine ingesting anything that belonged to this female. Bile rose in my throat and I clenched my teeth, swallowing back the nausea. I would not vomit.

"It wouldn't work for you anyway. Your case is—special," she said in a droll voice. "No, what I have for you is just words. Surely you're not frightened of a few little words?" I didn't move, just glared a challenge into the Tail's empty eyes. "I can't break your curse, because, as you guessed, it's not a true curse. It is just how you are. How you were Made. You died. You were given a new life. There is no regifting such a precious gift."

I slumped as disappointment washed over me like the crushing waves. "So you can't help me."

The Tail smirked. "Did I say that?"

Hope ripped through me as I looked up.

"I cannot break your so-called curse," the Tail said, "but you were not always so cursed." Faster than I could follow, she was nose to nose with me, still grinning that toothy grin, wide empty eyes filling my vision. "The only time you could have conceived a child is before you were given a new life. Before you died."

She paused as if to make sure I was paying attention.

"I could send you."

I frowned. "Send me where?"

"Send you when," the Tail corrected.

I could only gape at her again. "Send me...backward? In time?"

She said nothing, only withdrew slightly to watch me. Waiting.

"But...how?"

She cocked her head like a wild animal, reminding me that she was alien, monstrous, powerful, dangerous. "Is how important, or is a child important?"

I stilled, mind racing. The Tail did a slow lap around me, patiently indolent.

At last I asked quietly, "What are the rules?"

The Tail spun back in front of me, holding up a hand. "One," she said, raising a finger. "You will be sent to a time before your death. I do not pick the time, I merely provide the path."

"Two, you will have until your death. The moment your mortal life ends, you will return here, to this moment. If you conceive before your death, you will remain pregnant upon your return."

I nodded, but my heart was pounding. How much of my life would I have to relive? What if I ended up all the way back at those long hungry years crammed inside a tiny cabin? But even if I didn't, I knew what horrors awaited me at the end of my journey. Amarantha's face rose up in my memories like a dark spector.

"Three, the most important. You. Will. Change. Nothing." I opened my mouth, but the Tail amended, "beyond what is necessary for your mate to impregnate you." I barely heard her.

It fully hit me then, and my knees would have buckled if I had any control over my body. Change nothing. I would have to do it all again. Amarantha. The trials. And at the same time I would have to somehow seduce Rhys, at a point in our lives when he didn't know we were mates and he believed I was in love with another.

"Do you accept?" The Tail hissed softly. "Time waits for no one." She cackled at her own joke.

I swallowed. Time indeed. I wished I had time—time to think, time to plan this out. But I knew if I left here, I might never return if Rhys found out—or even if the Tail would deign to appear a second time when I called.

"What's the price?" I asked hoarsely.

She smiled, a terrible smile. "The blood of the womb."

Through the horror of that pronouncement, I tried to think frantically. I didn't know much about what could be called "women's magic" outside of what I'd recently been researching about conceiving. The magic of childbirth, the magic of motherhood. I knew blood had power and I could only imagine blood that was shed in childbirth had more. If I agreed, what kind of power would it give her? What kind of power would it give her over me?

Her smile grew as if she was following my thoughts.

It was no wonder that no one ever talked about what happened when they visited the Tail. I shuddered.

Feyre? Rhys's voice pounded in my head suddenly and I winced. He didn't know where I'd gone or what I was doing, not yet, but he'd picked up on enough of my emotions to know something was wrong. I buckled down my shields, blocking out our mating bond as much as I dared.

"Time is short," the Tail said, holding out one scaly, webbed hand toward me. "Agreed?"

I stared at that hand while Rhys's voice grew louder and louder in my head. If I didn't go now, he would never let me try again. And I wanted this, I wanted children. Our children. The past was already done, all I had to do was relive it.

I reached for the Tail's hand. "Agreed."

But the Tail pulled her hand back before I could reach it. I snarled at her but she only said reluctantly, "You know my price. But I must warn you, the magic—the magic will demand its own price."

I opened my mouth but she shook her head. "I know not what it will be. Only that your memories will contain precious foreknowledge, so you must give something to balance the scales. Whatever is taken will be returned to you once you have succeeded."

She waited until I nodded through clenched teeth before she extended her hand again.

As soon as my fingers touched hers she dissolved, drenching me anew. Whatever spell had been holding me in place vanished and I felt briefly weightless before the water swept in, swirling around me as it swallowed me up and sucked me down. I barely had time for a final gulp of air before I was lost in the whirling vortex.

I love you, I tried to say down the bond to Rhys, but the water became a heavy weight around me, squeezing me from all sides until at last the pressure made me pass out.

I woke up in a cell Under the Mountain. And I was once again completely human.