Carousel Seas – eARC

by Sharon Lee

  Anger rocked her, and a grief so terrible it might never be assuaged. She felt the goblins move in her soul, as the waters washed through her…

  And unraveled her.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Saturday, July 29

  High Tide 2:17 A.M. EDT

  Sunrise 5:27 A.M.

  The last tentacle parted just as the sea went crazy.

  Water crashed and boomed, the calm and ancient pool was calm no longer. I felt a tugging, growing quickly stronger, as if the sea was pulling back into a tidal wave, which would come crashing down to flatten Archers Beach, and everything and everyone in it…

  I felt Cael’s rope of jikinap tighten around my waist, threw my arms around Borgan and held on for all I was worth.

  * * *

  We landed soft in dry sand.

  I rolled to my feet, spinning. The land ran a tickertape parade through my head, while I craned out to sea…

  Tide was in; Nerazi’s Rock was half-drowned in sea water. If there was a tsunami building, it wasn’t going about it in the usual way.

  “Are you well, my lady?” Cael was at my shoulder. “There were strange motions upon the waters, and I felt it best to bring you away.”

  “You did good. Where’d Nerazi go?”

  “Into the waters. She would have it so.” There was a small pause before Cael said, softly. “And your leman?”

  I felt him on the land, before I turned back to the edge of the dune where we had landed. I felt him, but not much of him.

  Not nearly enough of him.

  “Oh, God.”

  I dropped to my knees beside Borgan.

  His feet were bare; his leathers were gone, replaced by a soaked and sand-coated black T-shirt and a well-worn pair of jeans.

  His eyes were closed, and God, God, he was so light.

  “My lady?”

  “He was bleeding power, and the lady from Cheobaug…” I reached out to wrap my fingers around his braid. Not one bead or shell remained…

  “The lady from Cheobaug stole his cached power…to her undoing.”

  And possibly to his.

  I put my hand on his chest, feeling his heartbeat—slow, and his skin so cold. The land again gave me his measure, worriedly. How much power had he lost?

  How much power could he lose and still survive?

  “Cael,” I said, my voice sounded creaky, as if the ocean had rusted my vocal cords. I cleared my throat and tried again, my eyes on Borgan’s face. His eyes were closed, his breathing shallow.

  “Cael—how do I share power?”

  A charged moment of silence; I’d shocked Cael, who sank slowly to his knees beside me.

  I looked at him.

  “Tell me.”

  He bent his head.

  “My lady, you only call up your power, and you—give it to whomever you would. If—if he is a true leman, and holds you in his heart, he will return the gift to the balance, powers mingled to…produce a new power between you.

  “To share power demonstrates a very great trust. In the village, there was a ritual, and everyone gathered to witness—and after, a feast, with dancing and games. I have heard it said that, among lords, such sharing is done in private, for reasons of state.”

  “Right.”

  I breathed in, and called my jikinap.

  It blazed up my spine, just like old times, and only slightly tempered by the power of House Aeronymous. Pleasure flared with it, like I was greeting an old friend after a long absence—and I remembered Cael’s delight in finding that the spear was still available to him, only stored in a different trunk.

  I whispered to my power, and it subsided, awaiting my command. I leaned close to Borgan, my lips against his ear.

  “Borgan,” I whispered, and reached to the land for a quick jolt of healing power.

  He stirred beneath my hand. I drew back very slightly, and saw that his eyes were open.

  “Kate.” His voice was a ragged whisper. He moved his left arm, awkwardly, as if it weighed too much for his strength. When he got his hand up, he wrapped his fingers around my braid, and smiled. A smile so faint, I only saw it because I knew his face so well.

  “Love you, Kate,” he whispered. “Should’ve said before now.”

  I leaned forward, my palm pressing flat on his chest, right over his heart.

  “Love you, too, Borgan,” I murmured, and kissed him, softly.

  I retreated just a little, then, looking directly into his eyes, tapped the power burning along my spine, and said, “I freely give you everything that is mine.”

  My center rocked, the smell of scorched butterscotch filled my nose. I saw Borgan’s eyes widen in the instant that I knew I was empty.

  My heart stopped—

  And jolted back into action.

  Jikinap flowed to me, warm and tasting of salted butterscotch. It was undoubtedly my own jikinap, yet it was different—enriched. Smoother, you might say, and infused with what might be humor.

  I sighed in what I understood to be perfect contentment, and realized I was lying across Borgan’s chest, and his hand was pressing me against him.

  Somewhere near at hand, someone cleared his throat.

  “Witnessed, lady and lord,” Cael said, solemnly. “May great joy and long happiness proceed from this sharing.”

  * * * * *

  “Daughter, will you open your eyes, and tell me your name?”

  A seal lay in the water beside her. She knew the voice, knew the taste of that particular power, and knew that this was no simple seal.

  “Nerazi?”

  “Exactly so. I am pleased that you recall me. You are…?”

  “I am…changed,” she said, and was not surprised to find it so.

  “Indeed, you could hardly be other than changed. But I wonder who you are.”

  “I am…the lahleri,” she said then, as the knowledge flowed into her. “Matsu, I was, and Korkilig, and Rinzirka. I am all, yet none. The sea has rewoven all of my strands.” She paused to consider the knowledge within her, and looked again to the seal.

  “Perhaps I misspoke. Perhaps I am not changed, but made new.”

  “That is possible. What will you do?”

  “I must…learn my place, and so enrich the sea, that I love and wish only to serve.”

  “It is well,” the seal who was Nerazi told her. “I leave you now to learn your place. When you are sure of that, come to see me. We have much to talk about.”

  “Yes,” she said, and closed her eyes again, as the sea flowed through her soul.

  * * * * *

  I’d fallen asleep across Borgan’s chest; I woke with the sun in my eyes, and a rumbling boom in my ears. Borgan stirred beneath me.

  “Listen,” he said.

  The waves, the sound of the surf, striking the beach with energy and purpose, and the rattle of beach stones, as the water withdrew.

  I let go a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “Well, that’s what I’m going to need to find out, though I’ve got some guesses, you understand.”

  “The woman from Cheobaug—she was going to create a diversion.”

  “Looks like she did that just fine, then.” He stirred again. “Help me up, Kate.”

  I froze, knowing his intent, as if it was my own…

  …and exactly as if it were my own intention, knew there was no way I could talk him out of it. Battered as he had been, he was yet the sea’s chosen Guardian, and duty to the sea trumped…everything.

  I sighed and came to my knees, surprised to find hands under my arms, helping me to rise.

  “Cael?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t have to stay.”

  “I wanted to stay, my lady. Are you able to stand?”

  I tested the proposition and found it sound.

  “Perfectly steady.”

  “Good. Sir?”

  He leaned forward and offered Borgan his hand.


  I took the opportunity to commune a bit with the land, which was beyond happy to see me, and downright delighted with the sharing. There was something a little different in our bond, but I couldn’t get enough space between us to study it. Well, tomorrow, everybody’d be calmer.

  I asked again, worried, and got the measure of Borgan’s weight upon the land—and chewed my lip in worry.

  He weighed more than he had when I’d brought him out of the ocean.

  That was the good news.

  But if he weighed half as much as he had when I’d first met him…

  “But now I’m bearing something else,” Borgan said from beside me. He took my hand and smiled down at me. “Something special.”

  “Flatterer.”

  “Only for you,” he said, and that…sounded serious. Even, the land told me, true. I looked up into his face. The smile this time was more apparent, and only slightly whimsical.

  “Walk you home?”

  “Cael—”

  I looked around.

  “He went on ahead. Said you’d be hungry, after all that, and he’d better be scrambling up some eggs.”

  I laughed.

  “Sure. Walk me home.”

  * * *

  We walked down the beach, splashing through the retreating breakers.

  “No jellies,” I said, pointing at the waves.

  “I’d gotten that much fixed before it swam backward,” he said, sounding rueful. “Gonna get the rest of it patched up soon’s I can. It’ll still be a couple days, week maybe, to get everything back to normal.”

  Because he was, of course, going back into the water.

  Right now, in fact.

  We stood at the water line, holding hands, our backs to Dube Street, and Tupelo House. We weren’t saying anything, but not because there wasn’t anything more to talk about.

  “When were you going to tell me that the bead was a power cache?” I asked him.

  He sighed.

  “I’d been planning on telling you everything, Kate, but the timing ran bad, and you weren’t trusting anything like sharing, so…I held off. And then, when it had to be now, I couldn’t figure how to explain what I was doing without making it seem like I was getting in over my head.”

  “Which you were,” I’d pointed out.

  “Well,” he wasn’t exactly ready to conceded the point. “Kinda comes with the surf.”

  “So, it was dangerous, but not above your pay grade. Got it.”

  He laughed. “Skin me later?”

  “I’ll mark it on the calendar.”

  “Well…” he said, and moved one step further into the water.

  “Wait,” I said. “One more thing, before you go.”

  “Sure.”

  “Borgan…” My voice died from sheer cowardice, leaving me looking up into his face.

  He raised a hand and touched my chin. “Not breaking up with me, are you?”

  I choked.

  “Not yet,” I managed, and took a breath. “I just wonder…if we had…shared power before…would you have gotten in over your head?”

  He frowned slightly, moved his hand and fingered the bead in my braid.

  “No way of telling what would’ve happened; what we have to deal with is what did happen. Which is why I’m going back to her, now. It’s mine, to make peace, and weave together all the raveled bits, into something that’s whole again, and strong. I know you’re thinking it’s not the smartest thing I could do, having lately been unraveling, myself, and I’m not saying you’re wrong. But there’s nothing else to do.” He tipped his head and gave me a slow grin.

  “See, this is hard on you, ’cause you’d never do anything like it.”

  I laughed.

  “Okay; point taken.”

  “That’s right. In the meantime, the sooner I start this, the quicker I’ll be done.” He ran his hand down my braid, and we both shivered in pleasure.

  “You need me, Kate, you call me. All right? Anything at all. I’ll come.”

  I nodded. “All right.”

  He squeezed my hand, and then let go.

  I stood and watched him wade out into the surf—until I didn’t see him at all.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Friday, August 4

  High Tide 7:13 P.M. EDT

  Moonset 12:02 A.M.

  The crowd was light for early August; on the other hand, it was good to have a crowd at all.

  I slowed the carousel and rang the bell to signal the end of the ride, then turned to the first in line by the gate.

  “Two tickets, please,” I said to the gray-haired woman.

  “Cheap at half the price,” she answered, putting the tickets into my hand.

  I grinned. “Be just a sec ’til they clear the field.”

  “No problem at all,” she assured me. “I’m feeling lucky; I practically have the place to myself. I figured there wouldn’t be room to move, this late in the summer. I’m glad I took a chance.”

  “We’re glad you did, too,” I told her, sincerely.

  Once the tides stopped bringing in more, the beach cleaners started making real progress with getting the weeds and the dead fish off the beach. Seaweed and dead fish being prime organic matter, it all got hauled up to Public Works, where, word came down, it was starting in to producing next year’s compost.

  Once the beach was clean, and the waves returned to duty, the tourists—those who hadn’t canceled on hearsay—stayed.

  So—bad as it had been, it could’ve been worse, and if we could stay open for the Extended Season, the carnies might even have enough money to live comfortably through the winter.

  The jury was still out on that, though. The town’s finance officer had liked the Chamber’s proposal and given the green light for a presentation to the town council. The council was still deliberating, though. Dan Poirier’s office let out that they were confident, but most of the folks I’d talked to agreed that they were bound to say so, adding that the council was known for dragging its feet.

  The Human Resources Department, in stark contrast, had moved at the speed of light, and Cael Wolfe was the town’s newest Animal Control Officer, pending completion of training, which he was slated to start next week.

  I rang the bell and turned to take tickets from the folks in line.

  “Hey,” yelled a red-haired boy as he mounted the deck. “I want to ride the horse that has wings!”

  * * *

  The whistle blew on the stroke of midnight, and the park was clear not many minutes later.

  I pulled the gate closed behind me and slid the lock home, noting the weight of someone on the land almost directly behind me.

  “Felsic,” I said, easily.

  “Kate,” she answered. “Got a minute?”

  “Sure, what’s up?”

  “This is.”

  She handed me a manila envelope.

  A chill swept me, and I looked at her closely, the land enhancing my sight.

  “Open it,” she said, and the strain in her voice matched the strain in her face.

  I opened it, handling the papers carefully—Social Security card, drivers license, birth certificate, all made out in the name of Frances Eleanor Sicot. I slipped the papers back into the envelope and handed it back to Felsic.

  “Congratulations. I think.”

  “That’s said well. But—why this—why now? If making me Guardian-next is the cause, I don’t want either. Well,” she said, with slightly less heat, “I didn’t want Guardian-next before this come in.”

  I could see her point.

  “I don’t know what triggers something coming in,” I confessed. “But, if we build on the theory you spun Cael, about those who have wide service win an envelope, then my guess is one of three things rang this in, now.

  “One, the Guardian’s heir thing—for which I apologize, but—”

  “But, you were short on time, an’ I would do, with the land liking me, like it does.” She sighed and pushed her hat back on her head. �
��What’s two?”

  “Your relationship with Peggy,” I said promptly.

  I felt the shock of that hit her. She stood frozen for a couple of heartbeats before nodding brusquely.

  “And three?”

  “You were ready. The land trusts you, the land, as you say, likes you, and you’re bloody-minded enough to keep it in line.”

  “My service…”

  “I’m thinking this is in the way of in addition to, rather than instead of.”

  Another long moment of silence, followed by a sigh.

  “What’m I gonna tell Peggy?”

  “Well, I don’t know what you’ve already told her, but in this instance, I’d suggest the truth. Peggy’s tough; she can See—and hear—and she loves you.” I hesitated, then added, “If she has any particular questions about the Enterprise, you can refer her to me, if you want.”

  “Might just do that.”

  She slipped the envelope down the front of her shirt, and sighed again. “Kate?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m glad you come home to us.”

  I gave a soft laugh.

  “Yeah. Me, too.”

  * * *

  I parted from Felsic at Fountain Circle, and walked over the sand to the water line. Neptune’s was rocking tonight with two bands, one of which would, by audience acclaim, go on to become a contestant in the Epic Battle of the Bands! scheduled for Friday and Saturday nights. Guitars howled and singers did, too, drowning out the soft sound of the low-tide surf.

  There were a goodly number of people on the beach, walking mostly, and talking quietly. Some moved along energetically; some strolled. All walked without fear of stepping on something nasty in the dark.

  I stood on the wet sand, the toes of my sneakers on the tide line.

  “Miss you,” I whispered, and felt the breeze like fingers against my lips.

  The waves lapped the sand, and retreated; drums rattled and guitars roared. A couple passed between me and the water, holding hands, and speaking in murmurs.

  Nothing else happened.

  Well, of course not. I didn’t need him—not really.

  I just…wanted him.

  The land performed its version of sticking a wet nose in my ear and huffling. I half-laughed, and pushed it back, yanking on its ears. Then, the two of us turned and ambled up the beach, under the Pier, on the way to Dube Street.