by Kay Hooper
“You’ll die,” Hunter vowed, muscles tensing in readiness, knowing that he had to act and hoping desperately that Siri, still and silent though she was, could somehow read his intentions, could somehow keep that knife at bay for the vital few seconds he needed.
And Siri chose that moment for the largest gamble of her life. Her fierce refusal to allow this evil man to harm either of them made her reach deeper within herself than she had ever done before. She was no witch, no sorceress, but she was the Keeper of the Unicorns, and she was enraged.
That rage was her catalyst, thrusting her focused energies in a deadly shaft of pure incandescent power aimed narrowly at Boran’s one sighted eye. She poured into that blow every spark, every atom of willpower, loosing mental daggers of fury.
And it found its target.
Boran howled, agonized, his green eye as damaged as the seared side of his face. He dropped the knife and clapped his hand to his burned eye, never noticing that Siri rolled violently away from his writhing body.
Hunter was on him in an instant. There was no pity within him for this nemesis of his lifetime, no quarter granted to the enemy who would have destroyed his love and himself. Because of Boran, Hunter, Siri, and the valley had suffered.
Boran fought blindly, but with no lessening of his deadly warrior skills. Both men were weaponless, both meant to win.
—
Siri gained her feet shakily, weaker now than she’d ever been in her life after the explosive release of energy, weaker even than she had been after saving Hunter’s life. But she was the Keeper, and her love and her duty sent her stumbling the few feet to Rayne. There was nothing she could do now to aid Hunter, and she trusted his skill and ability to defeat their enemy.
She fell on her knees beside the foal, horrified eyes fastening on the gaping, bleeding wound that was pouring out Rayne’s life to stain the ground. Instantly, Siri reached out her bound hands to cover the wound, desperately aware that her energies were too low, that she hadn’t the strength to heal so mortal a wound. But she poured everything she could summon into the effort to heal, sparing nothing of herself, sending her own dwindled life-force into the beloved foal’s body.
Darkness surrounded her, clutched at her hungrily. She felt the agony of the foal shrieking along her nerve endings, burning, searing. A whirlpool of blackness sucked the life from her in a draining rush, and she couldn’t feel her body anymore….
—
They were equally trained and skilled, almost identical in size and weight, and both, for vastly different reasons, were enraged and driven to win. With his mind splintered, Boran’s mental powers were not what they had been. Hunter could not take advantage of the situation, however; he was so unaccustomed to his own strengthening abilities that he never thought to fight with his mind.
It was brute strength against brute strength, and every driving fist and thrusting foot carried with it killing force. They stayed just out of reach of one another, neither willing to be caught in powerful arms that would crush the life from the victim. Fists became hammers in a brutal test of lethal strength.
“I’ll have the bitch!” Boran hissed, ducking Hunter’s swinging fist only by using what remained of his mental skill.
“I’ll see you in hell first,” Hunter growled, blocking a vicious punch and driving his own fist into Boran’s stomach with the full weight of his arm behind it.
Boran laughed through pulped lips, gasping, his swings beginning to go wide, his blocks ineffective. “I’ve always hated you,” he muttered, repeating the oath again and again. “Hated you! Always hated you…always!”
And Hunter leaped suddenly, driven to just finish it now, quickly, because there was something wrong and a terrible chilling fear writhed in his mind. He knocked Boran off his feet and they were rolling, locked together, on ground churned by boots and flecked with blood. Everything was still with straining for a long moment, and then a chilling, hollow snap cut through the silence and Hunter rose, trembling, to his feet.
He turned away from his fallen, motionless brother. A faint glint of something at Boran’s neck caught his eye, but Hunter was too concerned to think about anything except Siri and Rayne. He moved quickly toward a Unicorn foal and a bound woman, and a raw sound of fear escaped his lips as he saw and understood.
—
Into the utter silence and darkness crept something Siri was only dimly aware of. Faint echoes disturbed her weary peace, soft and faraway, and she ignored the summons. But it grew louder, stronger, battering at her cowed, wounded self. It searched for her violently, urgently, seeking with hands imperative in their need. Siri curled up inside herself and drew the darkness around her, too tired to fight anymore.
She was floating on a gentle, peaceful sea. Though her eyes were closed, she could sense the clear blue sky above, and the breeze on her face carried the scent of salt and sunshine. How good of the gods, she thought happily, to have shown her the ocean of her world; she had always wanted to see it, although she had not realized that until he came. She felt calm, at peace. But then her peace was abruptly shattered by the sharp, oddly hoarse cry of a sea gull.
Disturbed, strangely uneasy, she opened her eyes to see dark clouds blotting out the sun. Fright and saltwater washed over her as the sea heaved beneath her body. With no more warning than that, the storm was upon her, and she thrashed about in the ugly green, white-tipped waves, desperately trying to fight a determined, hungry sea. The wind shrieked in her ears, momentarily drowning out the hoarse cries of the gull. And then the cries rose above the howling wind, only it was not a gull, but a harsh masculine voice, sharply commanding her to keep trying, keep fighting. She was aware of a compulsion to obey the rough commands, but the sea was dragging her down…down…
She cried out in terror, in silence, disappearing beneath the waves and tasting the slimy saltiness of seawater. For one timeless moment she felt the weight of defeat. The sea would win.
The harsh voice lashed at her, and for an oddly detached moment she marveled that the voice could reach her here in the green depths. Then something caught her, held her, and the voice was forcing strength into her aching body. It poured into her fiercely, reaching every corner of her tired mind, her battered self. She was moving up, up through the water, prodded by the relentless voice which would not allow her to…die. Yes, that was it. The angry sea wanted her death, but the commanding, urgent voice would not allow it. He wanted her life.
Coughing and choking, she fought her way to the surface of the sea, the harsh, strained voice growing ever louder and more commanding with every inch she gained. Finally she broke through, and was dimly aware of a strong arm extended to help her. With her last ounce of borrowed strength, she grasped the large hand, clinging desperately as he pulled her from the cheated sea and into the sunlight.
—
Siri was aware of silence first, a silence broken only by the rumble of distant thunder. She was puzzled; it never stormed in the valley. She felt weightless, and coolness surrounded her, lapping her tired body with a soothing touch. She enjoyed it mindlessly for a time, only vaguely aware that her body was growing stronger, her mind clearer.
“Beloved?”
It was a hoarse whisper, strained and uneven, curiously urgent at her ear. She pondered that for a moment, then her cleared mind allowed memory to rush in and she opened her eyes instantly.
“Hunter!”
He hugged her tightly, relief escaping him in a broken groan. “I thought I’d lost you,” he whispered raggedly against her throat.
Siri realized then that she was truly floating—in the Crystal Pool. She was in Hunter’s arms, held securely, his heart thudding in the distant-thunder rumble against her. And the Moonflowers were spilling glorious colors all around the pool. Night! She’d lost an entire day.
She turned in his tender embrace, her still-booted feet finding the bottom of the pool as she faced him. And her heart turned over. He was gray with exhaustion, strain cutting deeply into his lean
face. But his eyes, his wonderful, vivid green eyes, were glowing down at her.
For a silent, thankful moment, Siri burrowed her face against him, holding on tightly to the love whose strength had been greater than her own. Then she remembered, and quickly lifted her head.
“Rayne! And—and Boran?”
“Rayne’s fine.” Hunter’s voice was still a thick rasp, but he smiled and nodded toward the pool’s edge.
Siri followed his glance, and relief lifted a burden. Little Rayne stood knee-deep in the pool, her anxious dark eyes fixed on Siri’s face, her glowing white coat unmarred by blood or wound. And behind her stood the rest of the herd, all watching their Keeper gravely.
She looked back at Hunter. “Boran?”
“Dead.” Bleakness darkened his vivid gaze. “Once a friend—always an enemy. And I never knew. I’m sorry, beloved. So sorry for bringing him into your life.”
Siri hesitated, then glanced back over her shoulder involuntarily before looking at Hunter again. “Is the—body still there?”
“No.” Hunter’s frown was brief. “I was too worried about you to notice, but the animals must have taken him away.” He couldn’t help but think Boran’s end a fitting one, even as his face tightened at the thought of what Boran had forced him to do.
Siri touched his cheek, silently comforting him, and tried to take his mind off that terrible betrayal. “What happened to me?”
You were dying. Storm’s mind-voice was quiet. He saved you. Then, silently, the herd faded into the forest.
She stared up at him. “How—”
Hunter shook his head quickly. “I don’t know. You were leaving me and I couldn’t bear that. Rayne was all right, but you’d poured everything you had into saving her. All your strength. I wanted to give you my strength and somehow I did. I kept calling you with my mind and voice, searching for you where you’d hidden away. And when I found you, I held on as tightly as I could.”
Siri held on to him now as tightly as she could. She thought of his fierce vigil, the endless hours of striving to find her, keep her, and there was nothing she could say to that, no simple words to utter. Instinctively her mind reached out to his, flowing gently into his, allowing the emotions that were too powerful for words to wash over them both, and heal them.
—
Because it had to be faced and put behind them, they talked much as they lay together later in their bed.
“He was my friend,” Hunter said, the pain of betrayal in his low voice. “My brother. We grew up together, shared so much of our lives. His face was destroyed because…because of me. A misstep by my mount during a trial by fire. That he survived the accident, was a miracle.”
“Or a testament to his hate,” Siri offered softly.
“Yes. His hate. And I never guessed. It never occurred to me that he felt as he did.”
Siri moved closer to him, giving comfort—and seeking it. “He—was here in the valley a long time. He—”
“I know, beloved,” Hunter said gently. “I know what he did.”
She lifted her head to look at him. “You know?”
Hunter touched her cheek gently. “It was in your mind. When I was trying to bring you back, I saw everything he’d done.” He drew a deep breath. “My love, I don’t know how you lived through it all. He was controlling our minds, making you do things, trying to seduce you. And I was battering at you, storming all your defenses like some animal—”
Siri pulled herself forward to kiss him. “Never an animal,” she said softly. “And I’d go through all of it again as long as we loved like this in the end.”
He drew her even closer, his eyes glowing. “Then I won’t regret any of it, beloved. Anything is worth this.”
Siri more than agreed.
—
For days they luxuriated in the sunlit warmth of their love. They lay together in the meadow, surrounded by the Unicorns, and basked in the waning Summer. They walked together, hand in hand, through the shaded, peaceful forest.
Bathed in eerie, beautiful moonlight, they watched in awed astonishment as the contented Unicorns broke one of their own laws and danced a second time in a single Summer.
And the bond between Siri and Hunter, forged in the crucible of love and agonizing choice, grew even stronger. The bond knit itself in tenderness and passion, knowledge and understanding, until two people were literally two halves of one.
And on a clear, fair morning as they sat together by the Crystal Pool, Siri’s mother softly opened the doors of their minds with a gentle invitation.
I would like to see the man my daughter loves.
Siri and Hunter looked at one another for a long moment, sharing a thought it was unnecessary to voice aloud.
Mother? Isn’t it dangerous?
No, child. Not now. His love for you is too strong to be set aside for another. It shields him from the madness.
I would be honored to meet you, Shauna.
Then come. Bundy will allow you to pass.
They rose and made their way toward the dragon-guarded entrance to the sea-cave. And Hunter was thinking of the creature he would soon meet, thinking and wondering.
“I remember the legend that a Mermaid is allowed to leave her sea and walk on land once in her lifetime. Is that when your mother found your father?”
Siri nodded. “Yes. To bear a Keeper, a Mermaid must fall in love with a mortal man, and he fall in love with a woman. Only afterward does he find out she’s a Mermaid and must return to her sea.”
“Then your father traveled overland to be here in the valley for your birth?”
“Yes. My mother was honest with him once she could tell him the truth. She explained the rules of Keepers, and told him that I would have to be raised here in this valley. Because she loved him, she warned him what could happen if he followed her. But he loved, and he followed. He had been a visitor here, not a Huntman but an explorer. He never believed Mother’s race strange or unnatural, and I don’t think he ever regretted following her.”
“He’d be proud,” Hunter said gently, “to see his daughter now.”
“I like to think so.” She felt the sudden heat of tears. “I never really stopped needing him.”
Halting, Hunter drew her into his arms, holding her gently, wrapping her in his love and understanding.
Unsteadily, she said, “Mother never really got over his death. Theresa Merman who adores her, but she’s grieved so long. When I was old enough to try and understand, Mother talked to me about their curse. Their legends.” She laughed shakily. “It seems we’re all forced to contend with legends.”
“What’s theirs?” he asked quietly.
Siri knew that her mother was aware of the conversation and so would not expect them immediately in her cave. And she wanted to talk about this.
“When Merpeople first evolved, they were a happy, carefree race. They roamed the seas, unseen by man. They gathered knowledge and wisdom through their telepathy, but knew no curiosity strong enough to prompt a face-to-face meeting with other races.
“But one Mermaid was different from the others. She was intensely curious about men. Instead of seeking the depths when men passed over the surface of her sea, she began to follow and watch them. But when she surfaced beside their ships and tried to communicate with them, they fled in terror.
“Their fear frustrated her and, in time, angered her. And in her anger, she determined to make a man fall in love with her. So she found a creature of power.”
“What kind of creature?” Hunter asked curiously.
Siri shook her head. “Not even the Merpeople are sure of that. But whatever this creature was, his power held little kindness. He asked her only for a ring made of coral, and when it was given to him, he promised to grant her two wishes. She asked that she be allowed to experience dry earth beneath her feet, and that she know the love of man.”
Hunter felt the chill of foreboding. “I’m beginning to understand.”
“Yes. She didn’t phras
e her requests very well, did she? Experiencing dry land beneath human feet is not permanently shedding a tail, and knowing the love of man…”
“What happened?”
“As so often happens in the case of bargains, her victory became a curse instead of a blessing. And her price cursed her people. Before she could reach shore and gain the limbs she’d requested, she met a large shipload of men. And when she happily called out to them, they all abandoned their vessel to drown in the sea around her.
“She was shocked, bewildered. But she continued on to shore, and there walked upon human feet for the first—and last—time. She met a man and loved for a few days. Then compulsion drove her back to the sea and lost her the legs of humankind. And her love drowned when he mindlessly tried to join her.
“Grieving, she rushed back to the creature of power. But he laughed at her. She had gotten her wishes, he pointed out. She had felt earth beneath her human feet, and man would love her madly, endlessly, forever. She retreated to the depths, heartbroken. In time, she found a Merman to love, and bore him children. And discovered to her horror that her daughters shared her curse. Men loved them madly.”
“So the curse was passed on. Endlessly.”
“Yes. The Mermaids bore daughters cursed from birth to destroy any man who saw or heard them. In time, all Mermaids carried the curse. The Mermen escaped the taint, but they, too, were cursed in having to helplessly watch their womenfolk grow sad and haunted.”
Hunter was silent for a long moment. “Yet the Guardians demand that the Keeper of the Unicorns be a child of Mermaid and man. How can they demand such a sacrifice?”
Siri sighed. “Bargains. Even the Guardians bargain and demand prices; we’ve guessed that. The Merpeople asked for protection against the predators of the sea—and were granted it. In the open seas, they’re protected by dolphins. In landlocked or underground seas, dragons guard them. In return for that protection, they were asked to bear Keepers.
“But Keepers are at least not required frequently. Many Mermaids are spared that pain. The ones who are chosen must watch the men they love die. And for ten thousand years we Keepers have been doomed to be fatherless because of what we are.”
