The Seelie manager quickly arranged passage for all of us on a barge that was scheduled to head downriver. The ship was not constructed to ferry passengers, but I was unconcerned about accouterments or cabin luxuries. I wanted speed and space over comfort and glitz. And that’s what I got. The accommodations were bare-bone even uncomfortable, but they were serviceable.

The ship was scheduled to leave the next day, but once the manager had booked traveling rights for us, he realized the cargo hold was filled and there was no reason to stay docked. The confusion from the Ship Captain brought into doubt the word of the Seelie Manager, his words too close to a lie for the Captain not to gape in shock.

Still, he had been given his order and ordered the crew to begin the process of casting off. As soon as we were on-board, the crew began the tedious preparations required to navigate something so large. The ship didn’t require a large crew, wards and arrays were embedded that allowed the ship to function mostly automatically. Besides the Captain, a leprechaun that wore a captain’s hat larger than he was, there was also a cargo master and chef.

Any major problems in the ship array’s or the mechanics that powered the ship would have to be fixed at the dock. Problems that occurred under sail would be ignored when possible. There were magical fail-safes embedded in runic summoning arrays that could conjure Water Sprites. Sprites that were powerful enough to push or pull the barge to shore.

The Cargo Master and Chef were Kelpie. It made the most sense. Their ability to transform into their water form meant that even if the very worst happened and the barge sunk, they would be fine. Their Seelie form made them the perfect deckhands, while their Serpent form allowed them to slip over the side and deal with any damage, punctures or holes that may form from collision while sailing.

The ship's skin was enchanted for toughness and self-repair, so if they actually needed to slip over the side and do those repairs, then something monumental most have gone wrong. Sidhe had advanced the art of growing things to another level, and with those techniques, their watercraft were for the most part self-sufficient.

Ships weren’t simply built, they were grown and molded and encouraged to take the shape that was most adaptable. The material that allowed for growth allowed for repairs. A bit of extra material for the ship to absorb, a bit of magic to waken the growth potential, and directing and channeling the ship's ability to grow into the shape desired was all that was needed to keep the craft fully functional.

The Leprechaun as ship’s Captain had entered into a pair-bonding with the barge, similar to my connection with the Sithern. The ship responded to his desires and needs because of this metaphysical bond, the barge was a living creature and trusted the Captain. The process for bonding was the same as for my Ring; spit, blood, or semen. While not as deep as the bond I enjoyed with my Ring, bonds could be severed and replaced, but as long as the bond existed, this ship was the Leprechaun's domain. And would respond to protect him even if that meant sacrificing itself.

You would think that the barge would be completely crewed by Kelpie, but Leprechauns were often selected for ship’s Captain. It was the result of their affinity with water. Tales and folklore often hinted that they hid their wealth at the rainbow’s end. Those stories were based on truth. Leprechauns were able to use their water affinity to surf the various colors and fractals that gave substance to the ephemeral nature of rainbows.

Their beginning and end were anchored in pockets of time and space that phased in and out of reality, always moving so that as each rainbow formed, those anchors could be rooted in what the Leprechauns had named the Here-after. Because those anchors could only be accessed when a Rainbow existed, they made the perfect hiding and storage space for artifacts and treasures.

Just as Leprechauns could surf the ephemeral nature of the Rainbow, they could surf the more physical nature of water itself. So, in the event their ship became so badly damaged they had to abandon, they were well suited for riding the waves and reaching shore.

The Captain and his crew were surprisingly gracious. I wasn’t sure if the manager for the mine had warned the Captain of our identity, or if he was just more politically and socially astute and treated everyone that boarded his ship with deference and respect. More likely it was because his ship that was scheduled to stay docked for another day was immediately given new orders to return to Herd Blayney’s dock.

The only new variable in the equation was the list of passengers he would be transporting. It didn’t take much for him to realize that we may be people he shouldn’t insult. My interaction with that manager had opened my eyes, I had displayed entitled Ranked mode and it had been completely effective.

It bothered me that I had just left the presence of Danu, Beleros, and Cyronax. That I had the newest children of Danu birthed in the past million years. But I was required to adapt and conform to the petty politics and squabbles of Seelie, that I needed to use Rank to cow a Seelie as lowly as to be assigned a Mining Manager.

I wondered at the ease with which I had assumed the demeanor of entitled prick. It bothered me, and I wouldn’t completely shrug it off. I was worried that it might be possible that I had been a Ranked Prince long enough that my sensibilities were evolving. That I was adapting and embracing some of the bias and bigotries that I was hoped to dispel.

I’d honestly thought less of the Mining Manager because he was a Seelie assigned to such a task. I would have to be careful of that. Caraid and I might be more melded, more in tune, but if I was going to institute any kind of systemic change for the populace, it would be worthless if I became the same kind of ruler I was attempting to subvert.

The trip downriver was boring. No bandits trying to hijack the cargo. No severe weather that got us lost at sea. Nothing more severe than a swarm of biting insects at one point. Insects were universal, so too were gnats. At least there didn’t appear to be any mosquitoes. Not on the river, but that may be because the water was fast-moving, no pools of stagnant water for the larva to survive.

The arrival at Blayney’s colony was transformed. Just as the Silinium mine had been updated and staffed with new buildings and infrastructure, so too had the wharf. The warehouse that had abutted the short pier used for processing fish and plant-life had been completely overhauled. The new building was massive, with a slip built between two wings. The wings were surrounding an area of the lake that had been dredged to allow the barge to dock, nestled between, making unloading and loading much easier.

Aside from that, there were new buildings that had sprouted up. The Elder’s Enclave was no longer the sole land-based building structure. The additional buildings looked to have been constructed to meet the demands of visitors, those not able to take water form and stay in the city that was constructed beneath the lake.

For new construction, the dock and warehouse were eerily quiet. They actually seemed abandoned. There were no deck hands or cargo masters waiting to greet the ship or help tie it off. It became apparent that extra hands were not necessary when one of the on-board Kelpie dove over the side and swam ahead of the ship. Once he clamored up the steps that led to the water, he positioned himself to catch the lines that the ship’s Cargo Master tossed.

The ship's magical propulsion may have had a sensor suite embedded because the ship drifted exactly to where it was most convenient and simply stopped. The ship grew decking that merged with the piers on both sides, allowing for transport and dis-embarking to occur easily and efficiently.

My curiosity and uncertainty on where to go to find Blayney were answered when Una walked forward. I wasn’t sure what kind of reception I would find. Irvin was their firstborn, and they’d been happy when I’d given the Oath to adopt him into my House.

Her greeting was exact, icy perfection. Bowing the exact degree, a Lord owes a Prince. Waiting for me to speak first. Face frozen a mask of bland indifference. This lack of emotion was like a kick to the balls. Emasculating, painful, and without enough force to take my breath away.

It was nothing like the Una I had known. The robust and lively woman that had been grateful when I’d saved her family from Thom’s dementia. I hated the indifference and coldness she greeted me with, but I understood it. It was exactly the type of reception I would expect from a woman grieving the loss of her son when faced by the person you felt had abandoned him.