The Fey Lord found her writhing, pinned by mortality and poisoned by the blood of goblin-kin. The only guardian of the pitiful remains of a once-proud vampire was a haunted, emotionally scarred nymph that had washed ashore with it.
A blackened and maimed thing, Dottie shrank from the Light, burning and screaming, but she could not die because it was not the will of the Lord of Blood and Bones. The Lord ignored the futile blows and screams of the nymph, gathered up his new plaything, and then turned to wade back into the depths from which it had come.
The nymph called out a challenge then and drew back the waters. The Lord of Blood and Bones took note, gathering her measure in a single look. He could hear the desperate pounding of her heart and the rush of blood through her veins. He knew every part of her in a look. His boney beak clacked in anticipation of his impending victory.
And then the Fey Lord noted she was not alone. Something had begun within her, something just barely alive and very, very new. Yet it sensed the presence of a soul, a monstrous soul. It reached out then and instead of cutting her open from neck to crotch with a single taloned finger, he grasped her by the throat and took her as well.
—
Dottie was horribly conscious for their abductions, yet helpless. Something sharp and hot was lodged in her heart and she knew Miranda had done something to try to save her. It seared her to her darkest core. It pierced her heart yet it did not paralyze her or send her to eternal sleep. Yet at the same time, it warmed her in a way she barely remembered. In seventy years and counting, Dottie had never felt warmth, save the fake warmth she felt when she set her blood ablaze in a fleeting imitation of humanity or the warmth she stole from another in her bed. But now this thing that burned in her heart gave her at least something warm to cling to.
In time she associated the sharp thing buried deep in her heart with hope against the cold, dark depths of an alien sea. She could not breath. She could not speak. She could hear the slimy, awful mind of her captor when it came calling, but could not respond. She could obey his will or she could be punished. Punishment, she quickly learned, meant she would be fed to a swarm of grasping, sucking, biting octopuses. She would feel every piece of flesh ripped from her bones, hear their beaks gnawing through her organs. They only ever left her heart, which forever burned with that inner fire and light. Then it would be a small eternity of agony as her body slowly, flesh adding to flesh, bone growing from bone, regrew. Thus Dottie learned that when her master commanded, she obeyed. The bright fire in her heart, Hope, was the one thing that kept her from completely collapsing and accepting her fate. She remembered the one that had given her Hope, even if in this place she could no longer remember the name of that brave, doomed nymph.
Dottie almost never saw Miranda. Most of the time, she could barely hang on to her own memory, much less do anything to help another captive. But she remembered seeing Miranda ripe with child. And months later, she heard the sobbing screams that accompanied birth. In that sound, Dottie detected despair. Heartbreakingly, the nymph had given Dottie Hope yet had none for herself.
Shortly thereafter there appeared among her Lord’s menagerie a thing that looked like an unholy union between shark and human girl. She possessed webbed hands, thick, grey skin, and teeth of a shark. And she was wholly vicious, attacking and devouring anything that wandered too close. The bones of her victims littered her cave. The Lord of Blood and Bones was greatly pleased by her and often took her out to play and to parade her in front of monstrous visitors. Dottie had a sick feeling she knew why the nymph’s cries and sobs were so heartbroken and hopeless.
For what seemed like an age, Dottie performed as a gaoler for her Lord’s pets and captives. She fed the monsters, chained his prisoners, and discarded the dead for him. But eventually she noticed the Lord of Blood and Bones, also called Lord of the Crawling Depths, was distracted by a visitor with grey skin and the teeth of a shark. They argued and then they fought. Dottie had a horrified feeling she’d seen the visitor somewhere before and that its arrival spelled then end of the nymph’s imprisonment, if not her life.
Seizing upon the opportunity, Dottie broke into the nymph’s cage and dragged her limp form into the sea. With relief, Dottie saw the nymph looked the same as she did a brief lifetime ago when they were taken from the shores of the Hedge. As she kicked toward the surface, she reflected it might be a long, long swim home…