“Aye, I can see it too. Fairy of the sea, enchantress of all…” Loch murmured, his eyes locking with Gwen’s. Her heart seemed to slow its beats for a moment, power zinging between the two of them until she felt heated to her core.
Bianca looked between the two as the silence drew out.
“I think that’s our sign to be retiring to our cottage. Though it feels weird to try and sleep in the sunshine. I wonder if that’s how people in Iceland feel during those long periods when the sun never really sets,” Bianca babbled, nudging Seamus to get up when neither Gwen nor Loch looked their way.
“Right, right. Goodnight. We’ll be sure to listen for any songs of warning or…” Seamus just trailed off as Bianca dragged him down the path, happy to be disappearing with his love to a remote cottage in the hills.
Gwen’s eyes traced the stubborn set of Loch’s jaw, his tawny eyes, now hooded as he looked down and then away. The man had so much honor, restraint, and a sadness inside him she’d yet to understand.
“I feel for you,” Gwen finally admitted, feeling comfortable in this place of power, willing to be vulnerable to Loch. She raised a fist to her core, right below her breasts. “Right here, I carry deep feelings for you. As though we are connected in a way that I can’t explain or understand.”
If anything, Loch’s face only looked more mulish as he looked away over the sea.
“Is that not so with you? Am I the only one with these feelings?” Gwen asked softly, not moving, waiting to see if he would be honest with her and with himself.
“Ah, Gwen, you’re a looker, that’s the truth of it,” Loch said, not meeting her eyes as he shrugged casually. “But I told you not to get ideas about me. Women always do. I’m not meant to partner with someone. It’s best a sorcerer goes alone – so as not to get distracted. I hope you understand.”
Gwen understood far more than he was saying, and she smiled in understanding. There was something about this place, and the power she felt here, that allowed her to see past his words to the truth that lay beneath.
Lochlain of the high royal fae had very deep feelings for her, but he was allowing fear – the fear of what could be – to stop him. It seemed the great sorcerer wasn’t listening to his own lesson – that taking great risks yielded great rewards.
“Aye, I understand,” Gwen said, and Loch sent her a relieved smile. “It’s easy to get caught up in the passion of a quest and battles.”
“That it is. I’m glad you’re being reasonable about this.”
“Of course I am. I would never want to give myself to someone who doesn’t share the same feelings as I do,” Gwen said, and rose while Loch all but choked on his whiskey at her talking so freely about her innocence. “I’m certain I won’t have trouble finding those feelings again, now that I understand them so much better. Thank you for being patient with me and helping me to understand what is real and what isn’t.” Gwen leaned down and brushed a sisterly kiss against Loch’s cheek, almost laughing when she saw the man’s fists clench in his lap. Unaffected? Not in the slightest.
“I’m going to get ready for sleep. You should rest as well. You’re safe here.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Gwen bided her time, waiting until she was certain Loch was asleep before she answered the call that had been pulling her toward the moonlit beach far below the cliff their cottage stood upon. True to his word, Loch had insisted she sleep in the bed while he had found a spot in the grass outside, protected by boulders, with a beautiful arch of trees to shelter him from the sun, which still shone cheerfully behind little cotton-puff clouds drifting by.
She paused, smiling at Lochlain, and admired him for a moment in his relaxed state, his arms crossed behind his head, his tawny eyes hidden beneath closed lids. His broad chest rose in easy, even breaths, and Gwen ached to curl up next to him and put her head to his chest, to be held in those strong arms.
Later, she promised herself.
Gwen padded silently past him, her feet bare, and made her way quickly down the path that hugged the side of the cliffs. She slipped seamlessly from sunshine to moonlight, turning once to admire the gradient of day to night behind her. The wind slowed as she neared the moonlit shore, and silence greeted her, but for the gentle lap of waves. Gwen smiled, reaching her arms up toward the moon, delighting in the way the light scattered across the surface of the water, a thousand crystals thrown across a ribbon of blue velvet.
Gwen dug her toes into the sand, allowing the water to caress her feet, aching to swim in the water. But she wouldn’t, not now, for her heart also lay with those who slumbered in the cottages far above. It wouldn’t be fair to them to risk swimming when she was still uncertain of who and what she was. Though every moment of this quest brought her closer to understanding her own personal power, she had others to think of. To risk herself in the sea would only put them in peril if they needed to save her.
Gwen contented herself with enjoying the feel of the water at her feet, the light of the moon caressing her face, and the dull beat of the magick of the island pulsing in her core. Its blood called to her blood, and she knew one day she would come back to this place.
She turned, a smile on her lips, to greet the woman who rose from the water. Naked, her porcelain skin a mirror of Gwen’s own and her thick curls winding around her shoulders to her waist, the woman raised her arms to the sky and cloaked herself in a gown of gossamer moonlight, the folds shifting and shimmering around her curves, as she glided toward where Gwen stood.
Instinctively, Gwen bowed her head when the woman stopped in front of her.
“I am Amynta, defender of the Isle of Destiny, and mother to your blood,” the woman said, a soft smile playing across her luminous face.
“Mother to my blood,” Gwen breathed, raising her head to meet Amynta’s eyes, a mirror of her own. “It is an honor to meet you.”
Amynta inclined her head regally, a warrior acknowledging her young.
Knowing that to hug this woman would be an insult to what she was, Gwen contented herself with memorizing every detail of her mother, feeling strength fill her as she finally understood the magick from which she was formed.
“You’ve fared well, I see, in this human form. Come, walk with me,” Amynta said. They both turned to stroll the beach, and in another life they would have been simply a mother and daughter, walking by the water on a beautiful evening.
“I have. Though it has been a delight to discover that there is more to me than I knew,” Gwen admitted.
“Your gran? She cared for you well?” Amynta asked.
“She’s wonderful. I couldn’t have had a happier upbringing,” Gwen gushed.
“That eases me. I’ve often thought of you and wondered if you had happiness. It is a feeling we prize, among our people. Though we understand and deal readily in the darker side of life, happiness and joy are to be treasured.”
“I’ve known happiness. I’ve wanted for nothing,” Gwen said. She smiled at Amynta and was rewarded with a kind smile back.
“Then I made the right choice, to give you up.”
“Why did you, then?” Gwen gulped, feeling surprised at her audacity, but she figured it was now or never to get answers. Not that she needed them, but it would certainly add another chapter to her own personal story.
“It’s a fair question, and one that I will answer,” Amynta said, inclining her head once to Gwen. “Our people, you understand, have difficulty conceiving. Typically, only royalty can carry on the bloodline, but that still gets diluted. Once in a while, we’ll have mermaids with great fertility, and the royals allow them to birth their children as they still want diversity in our bloodline.”
About a gazillion questions popped into Gwen’s head, but she instinctively knew that this was a time to just listen.
“While we choose lovers freely, as we believe in celebrating joy, there are some sacred rules.”
“There are men then?” Gwen blurted out. She kept picturing the mermaids and sirens a
s a great community of Amazonian-type women ruling the sea.
“Of course there are men. We women are equal to if not stronger than them, however.” Amynta laughed softly. “It is a society that very much celebrates the feminine divine power, and we are given full rein to use our gifts as we see fit.”
“I see. I like that,” Gwen said, kicking her foot in the water a bit.
“It is a society that is not without its troubles. We celebrate joy, but we understand pain, anger, and jealousy just as well. And jealousy is what drove my decision to give you a safe home.”
“You were jealous of someone?” Gwen asked.
Amynta tossed her head back and laughed, the beautiful sound like a thousand stars twinkling in the sky, and shook her head in dissent.
“No, my beauty, I was not jealous of someone. But someone was of me.”
“Ah,” Gwen said.
“You see, there are many royal houses in our society, and with them come many a princess.”
“Are you a princess?”
“I’m not. I’m something outside the royal family – an untouchable, if you will.” Amynta seemed to search her mind for the right wording. “As a defender of our people, I’m… would you say a goddess? I’m not necessarily required to follow the ruling of the royal people, but often do so in order to keep the peace. However, should I need to make a decision that benefits the society as a whole, even if it usurps a decision made by one with royal blood, I may do so without consequence.”
“You’re a peacekeeper.”
“Yes, while often having to use violence to do so. It is not always an easy life, sustaining these magickal beings and defending an isle not known to many. Our way of life is dying, and it is only through great care and perseverance that we can continue our society.”
“I’m still amazed to learn that there are so many magickal beings existing outside of what humans know,” Gwen admitted. “I’ve always been drawn to stories about them – but to find out they are real? And I’m one of them? It’s astounding. I can’t even imagine how difficult it is to keep this island free from discovery.”
Amynta inclined her head, gracefully accepting the compliment, and continued with her story.
“We don’t always do well with it. We’re a curious bunch, which is why there are myths and legends that exist about mermaids. We wander afar. I wandered one day. Which is when I met your father.”
“A fae.”
“Yes, a fae. A royal fae, at that. He’d been exploring the coast on a small boat, and I couldn’t resist him, you see.” Amynta half-laughed, a dreamy smile on her face. “He was so handsome – striking blonde hair and ice-blue eyes. I allowed him to see me, flitting below the surface. Instead of showing fear, he smiled, and beckoned me closer. Feeling no fear, I swam to him and held onto the side of his boat. We spoke for hours that day, and many days after. I began to look for him, straying farther and farther from my post to find him. You see, love will do that to you. It is a power above all others, causing you to put that love before anything else. One day he led me to a small island off the coast, a magickal one not known to humans, and we were together. Our love created you.” Amynta smiled at Gwen.
“What… what happened next? Did you see him again?”
“I did. And we were both ecstatic about the pregnancy. In both our cultures, a child is to be considered a blessing – a gift of great joy. We discussed how your birth could be a bridge between our people, perhaps opening up a new way of life and a new treaty of peace and understanding. Though we’d lived side-by-side for years, the fae and the merpeople kept separate. Wisely so, I suspect,” Amynta said.
“But someone was jealous of you.”
“A royal princess, one who could not get pregnant. She came to me, the court at her side, insisting she would take you as her own and forbidding me from seeing your father again. Now, as I told you, I have the power to ignore the royals’ demands. But you must understand the weight of fear and how it can wreak havoc in a society.” Amynta shook her head and looked out to the moonlit water. “And those of the old way still feared the fae. Either I could give you to the princess or they would kill you in fear that you would bring bad magick to the island.”
“But how would the princess have changed that if she had raised me? Wouldn’t I still be of fae blood?” Gwen asked.
“I said they were powerful. I didn’t say they were rational.”
Gwen thought of the nature of the world’s political climate, and could only agree with that statement.
“When it was time for your birth, my sister and I snuck away, and she helped me to the island where your father and I first met. I gave birth to you beneath the stars and handed you off to him. You see, he’d promised me he would ensure your safety, and I trusted him to do so. And he did, as I am speaking with you now,” Amynta said, a faint smile still playing on her lips as she spoke of her great love.
“But why didn’t the fae keep me?”
“It wasn’t meant to be. The Goddess Danu knew you had a higher purpose, as a Seeker, and as such she hid you away for your safety until the time was right. But you must know, my child, starshine of my heart –” Amynta turned and placed her hands on Gwen’s shoulders, her touch sending shivers of magick through Gwen’s body – “you were born of love and you are loved. Every decision that was made was out of love. Remember that, as you travel this quest. It will serve you well.”
“Did you… do you… still speak to my father? What of your love?”
Amynta shook her head and dropped her hands, bringing one palm to her chest.
“Love, once given, lives on. He lives in here, though we can no longer be together. I am content, my child. I’ve known great love, which is more than many can say. And what of you? Where is your great love? I feel it – inside of you. Where is this man?”
“He, like my father, is fae,” Gwen admitted. “And he sleeps up on the cliffs as we speak.”
“Why have you not been with him? Time is precious and tomorrow is promised to none. You must take love where it is given.”
“He won’t give it. He refuses to believe it and I don’t know why,” Gwen admitted, digging her toe into the sand, ashamed at being rejected.
“Ah, you’ve yet to give him your love. You must do so, freely,” Amynta said, gently chiding Gwen.
“I told him that I have feelings for him,” Gwen protested.
Amynta threw back her head and laughed once more, the waves dancing around her in joy as she did.
“Feelings are many. Love is everything. Go, tell him. Better yet, show him. Your love is a worthy gift and, when given freely, one that will forever change a man. Trust it.”
Gwen closed her eyes for a moment, letting the truth flow through her. She did love Lochlain of the Fae, though she had known him but a short time. What was time when her heart recognized its mate in another?
“Be well, my child. It does my heart good to know you are safe. Remember who you are, the blood that flows through you,” Amynta said, turning to brush her lips across Gwen’s brow before slowly backing into the water. “You’ve but to call for me, and I will come. My love lies within you.”
Gwen smiled, a piece of her heart feeling full in a way she had never had, and she raised one hand in goodbye as Amynta dove into the sea, a shimmer of colors beneath the surface, before the sea was once again empty.
Gwen turned her eyes to the cliffs and smiled.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Loch was awake when she returned, pacing in front of the cottage, the look on his face mutinous.
“How nice of you to return, princess,” Loch said, his voice heavy with sarcasm. Gwen smiled at him, amused, and patted his cheek as she breezed past into the cottage and straight back to the bedroom, confident that he would follow to have his say.
“You may think you can do whatever you want, but you actually can’t. There are other people to consider, people whose lives you can put in danger if you just wander off like you don’t have a c
are in the world. What would have happened if you had been attacked by the Domnua? The quest would be over,” Loch seethed from behind her.
Gwen turned, the smile still on her face. “But I wasn’t. And you followed me anyway, so I knew I was safe.”
“How did you know I followed you?” Loch asked, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“Because I feel you, Lochlain of the Fae,” Gwen said, bringing her hand to her heart, and stepping closer until she was only inches from him. “You and I – we are connected. Don’t you feel it too?”
Gwen reached out and placed her hand on his chest, caught for a moment by the way the muscles rippled under her hands, feeling the beat of his heart under her palm. Slowly, she tilted her head until her eyes met his.
“Gwen,” Loch said, and it was both an answer and a plea.
“I love you, Lochlain. Beyond all doubts, I love you. I give to you my heart, to do with as you will,” Gwen said, humbling herself to him. At the same time, she discovered what power lay within being vulnerable – in opening her heart – and the beauty that was found in the tenuous threads of hope existing in that space. As the moment drew out, Gwen kept her eyes on Loch and waited.
“This isn’t a good idea. Love is but a distraction from the quest. We need to stay focused,” Loch said, but his protests sounded weak even to himself.
“Don’t you think love will make us stronger? It’s easier to fight the dark with the light,” Gwen said, and tentatively, ever so slowly, she stood on her tip-toes and brushed a kiss across his lips. Softly, at first, but when he made no move to stop her, she pressed her lips harder to his.
The moment hung between them, the pain of her unanswered question drawing out until Gwen almost stepped back, but then he dove his hands into her hair, pulling it from its pins so that it toppled down her back.
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