by Jen Crane
Ewan’s keen eyes had gone shifty, zipping from side to side for the briefest of moments. “They’re okay,” he said. “They have each other, so…”
“You did not tell them,” I ground through gritted teeth.
“I sure as hell did.” His hoarse whisper matched mine in vehemence.
“You can’t…but, Gaspare…Oh, Ewan.” My hand flew to my head. “You shouldn’t have done that. You promised Gaspare. What if he finds out?”
“What can he do?” Ewan’s chest puffed in defiance. “He wouldn’t forbid me from coming back here. He doesn’t want to see you unhappy.” His face grew even more serious. “And besides, I know too much now.”
“Oh, you do not want to mess with Gaspare Shaw, Ewan. I know he seems like a quirky, fun uncle now, but you have to remember who he is. What he can do. I don’t want to ever be on his bad side.”
“I’ll just have to take that chance,” he said with finality and held my waist with both hands. “You don’t know what it’s like, Stella. They love you. To think you were gone. It killed me. Ripped a chunk right out of my heart. There’s no way I’d let anyone else suffer through that a minute longer than they had to.”
I groaned and lay my head on his chest. Beneath strong muscles, his heart thundered wildly.
“Okay,” I breathed. “Okay. We’ll figure it out.”
Chapter 26
“Ewan. Just the man I’ve been looking for.” Gaspare strode toward us, his intent to deliver a message clear.
Uh-oh. He’s found out. Ewan’s stiff posture told me he’d had the same thought.
“Emelie and I have got to have a break from this place, from this work. Dinner tonight at The Farm?”
“In Pearl?” I asked. “One of your conditions was that Ewan remain in Topaz.”
“I’m evolving, Stella. Keep up.”
I opened and closed my mouth. Nothing I could say would improve on this promising development, so I kept it closed.
“I’ve lifted your wards. See you at eight?”
“Ah, yes, sir.” Ewan stammered. “Thank you.”
Gaspare strode away as determinedly as he had arrived. He was always on one mission or another.
“What was that about?” I wondered aloud.
“Maybe he just wants to get to know me better.”
“Yeah, maybe,” I said, but didn’t believe it was that simple for a second.
The Farm was rustic in theme only. The decor was old-fashioned and charming in a calculated sort of way. The linens were worn but pristine. We were only into the drinks and appetizers, but both were superb.
“The scallops, please,” I said. The waiter nodded politely and moved on to take Emelie’s order.
Ewan leaned into me, pressing his lips so close to my ear I felt the heat of his breath before he said a word. “You’d think there’d be a steak on the menu of a place called The Farm,” he said and lightly inhaled my neck just below my ear. I’d worn my notoriously riotous red hair up, so he had easy access. I laughed louder at his comment than I’d intended, but laughing in Gaspare and Emelie’s company was better than the breathy sigh I’d been tempted to make.
I pressed my cheek to his and whispered back. “Seen many cows on the islands, have you?”
“Look at those two,” Emelie said and blinked wide, gray eyes. “Adorable little lovebirds. We were like that once, weren’t we Gaspare?”
“I’m as in love with you now as I’ve ever been, Emelie Shaw.”
The flush in Emelie’s pale skin was visible, even in the dim light.
“I happen to think you two are pretty adorable,” I said. “You’ve been together a long time?”
They both nodded and Gaspare’s wide smile gave Emelie’s beauty contest beam a run for its money.
“We have,” Emelie said. “Seems like forever—in a good way,” she continued in response to Gaspare’s grunt of protest. But then her smile fell in slow motion, grinding down one notch at a time. “We wanted to have kids right away. We talked about it before we married. You know how couples do—who wants a girl or a boy, and how many of each. We couldn’t wait to start our family.”
Gaspare put his hand on top of Emelie’s as she fidgeted in her lap.
“Secily was my closest friend,” she half-whispered. “She always felt like more of a sister, really. She realized she’d fallen in love around the same time Gaspare and I were married.
“She didn’t mean to. Rahb was her coworker. They were both brilliant, dedicated and had worked together for years. She thought he hung the stars, and he hung on her every word. They were meant for each other. Both such generous, loving people. Affairs happen all the time, but this…this was love and, well, love is hard to come by, isn’t it?”
When I turned in his direction, Ewan was already looking at me. I can’t adequately explain that moment or the depth of the connection between us, but we understood Emelie perfectly. Ewan and I had recently found love. We knew how precious it was. Ewan’s hand found mine and didn’t let go.
“Rahb Woolfolk was descended of bighorn sheep. His were a proud, grand people. Secily came from a line of hares.” Emelie’s smile resurfaced as she recalled a memory.
“They realized quickly they were in too deep to dig themselves out. They wanted to be together, but also wanted children. Adoption isn’t an option here on Pearl. There simply aren’t any children to adopt.” Emelie smiled sadly. “Rahb decided he loved Secily enough to live without them.”
Emelie took a deep breath before continuing her story. “But some women’s maternal instinct is too powerful to ignore. Secily knew her life would never be complete without children. Her love for Rahb was deep, unmatched, but she couldn’t give up her dream of being a mother. She broke things off. It was a very difficult time for her. A very long, difficult time. Eventually, she found her way out of depression and attempted to move on.”
“Secily and I were at a shop together when we heard the news. Rahb had been dating someone and she was pregnant. Secily was stunned, and understandably upset. We left the shop, but not before she became physically ill all over their entryway rug. Secily didn’t leave her house for days after that. I stayed with her, but she was quickly sucked back into the unyielding vacuum of depression.”
Tears formed in Emelie’s eyes as she tried to finish the story. Gaspare rubbed her back gently and smoothed her hair. She cleared her throat and swiped at her eyes. “It just didn’t feel right when I left for work that day. She was a bit better, but not herself. It was strange. I tried to stay with her, but she insisted I go. I resolved to check back in at lunch.”
Emelie released a shaky breath. “They saw her…” She cleared her throat again and sniffed. “Someone saw her walk into the sea. She never came back.”
“Oh, Emelie,” I said. “I’m so sorry.” She nodded and dried her eyes again.
“So you see, I have a very good reason for making the vow.” Another tear escaped and she wiped it from her cheek with a shaky hand. “I swore Gaspare and I would not conceive until I found a way for people like my Secily to have the same opportunity we do. It’s been my life’s work, and until now, I’ve had nothing to show for it.”
“It’s been a very long wait,” Gaspare said. “A very difficult wait.” His eyes held the weight of the world when he said, “Your discovery could mean everything to us. We can’t thank you enough.”
Ewan and Emelie nodded their silent agreement. My chest was suddenly tight. Too tight. “Oh, no. Thank Abia,” I said. “This is her theory, her plan.”
“Yes, we will. But you set this whole thing in motion.”
I shrugged and looked to my lap. “Thanks,” I said, just so they would move on.
I wasn’t sure where the conversation could go after that, but Gaspare did not disappoint.
“So, Ewan, what are your intentions with my niece?”
There it was: the real reason he invited us. I shook my head at Gaspare and laughed under my breath.
“Well, sir, I int
end to marry her, if she’ll have me.”
“Ewan Bristol, you do not!” I laughed again, but this time aloud. I rolled my eyes in Gaspare and Emelie’s direction. This guy.
But my aunt and uncle weren’t laughing. Neither was Ewan. With a petrified jerk, I turned back to him. His lips pressed into a thin line and his dark eyes held only a hint of pain at my unexpected reaction.
“Oh, God. You’re serious.” I laid my hand in his, but he didn’t squeeze back. “I’m sorry. It’s just so soon. I hadn’t thought…” I scratched my scalp and pulled at the too-tight up-do. “I just hadn’t thought…” I said again.
“Your scallops, ma’am.” The waiter said as he slid the plate into place.
The remainder of dinner was strained and awkward. I tried to engage Ewan in conversation. He wasn’t rude or angry. He smiled and nodded, but his heart wasn’t in it.
Gaspare and Emelie exchanged a meaningful glance and asked for the check. “More tough work ahead of us tomorrow,” Gaspare said. “Best call it a night.”
I harbored some resentment at Gaspare for asking such a loaded question. What had he been thinking? How did he expect the night to go? Not the way it did, that much was certain.
With Gaspare and Emelie gone, I asked Ewan back to my temporary home. We were in Pearl, after all. Ewan hadn’t seen any of it. Hell, since we’d been relegated to Topaz, we hadn’t had access to a bed.
“I think I’ll head back to The Root,” he said, not meeting my eyes. “Big day tomorrow.”
“Ewan,” I pleaded and put my hands on each side of his face, coercing him to look at me. “You just caught me off guard. You know how I feel about you. But it’s so soon. I hadn’t considered marriage yet. Not that I wouldn’t. I just hadn’t.” Ewan’s eyes closed and I rubbed a strand of his chunky curls between my thumb and finger. “We have all the time in the world. Together.”
His smile didn’t reach his eyes, but I could tell he was trying. “It’s not a big deal. Don’t worry about it.” He kissed me lightly on the nose. “Really. Good night, Stell.”
And then he was gone.
I needed someone to talk to. More specifically, I needed Timbra. She would know just what to say, how to help me through the rough patch with Ewan. I desperately missed my friend, and paced the patio behind Gaspare’s cottage. There was no one in the house and it was so lonely. Being outside helped somehow.
From the corner of my eye, I caught sight of something before it came into full view. Dragons. Six of them speared upward and swooped playfully in the night sky. I smiled at their abandon and longed to fly freely, too. Recognition struck. The back two were Bay and Forster, and without further thought, I undressed to meet them beneath the stars.
“You’ve hurt his pride,” Bay said gently after hearing my story. “But, I think he’s the type that heals pretty quickly.” She chuffed a laugh in her dragon form. “They say we’re the gentler sex, but I’ve always thought men’s feelings far more delicate.”
“I don’t know a lot about men, to be honest,” I told her. “Since my father died before I was born, I didn’t grow up with a man in the house. Mother never had boyfriends. Mine weren’t serious.”
“So, you’ve never really been exposed to what committed love looks like, have you, dear?”
“I never thought about it like that, but I guess not.”
“Do you think you might be afraid of what Ewan is proposing? Maybe you don’t know how to commit, or what marriage even means for the two of you.”
“Oh, you’re right on all accounts. I’m scared to death, and I don’t have a clue about any of it. But, well, commitment is one thing. Marriage is something else altogether.”
“Too true,” Bay replied. “But you’re a smart girl.” She leaned her lovely armored head in my direction. “You’ll figure it out. Nobody ever said relationships are easy. They’re hard work. But if it’s meant to be, you and Ewan will figure this out together. If he wants you for forever, waiting a bit won’t kill him.”
“Thanks, Bay.” I dropped my shoulder and angled to fly beneath her. I found her moss colored eyes, so like my own. “I’m glad I have you.”
She practically purred with delight and slowly nodded her head. “I feel the same, dear.”
Chapter 27
Abia’s cramped hut was dense with the sharp, chemical smell and the oppressive and inescapable pressure of magic.
“Today’s the day,” she announced as the four of us filed into her home. “We’ve spent days recreating and deconstructing this sophisticated spell. Days preparing a counter-spell, and a few more avoiding the inevitable. But today’s the day we test our theory.”
We all shifted restlessly in varying degrees of discomfort. Gresham’s nerves were the most pronounced, though, admittedly, he had the most to lose. His blood was not only tied to the unspeakable curse responsible for preventing generations of Thayer’s children, it was tied to the wicked darkness of Malu. If the group of powerful and experienced people we had amassed couldn’t break the curse, it might never be broken. I could only speculate what that meant for Rowan Gresham, but it couldn’t be good. Would he continue to spiral downward, the evil force pulling him further and furtherer into himself, into the darkness? Would he eventually become like his father, obsessed with power, mad and paranoid? And now that he knew his blood held the curse together, could he live with the guilt that accompanied that knowledge? I was afraid to answer those questions. I’m sure Gresham asked them of himself, and many more.
I had seen Ewan since the uncomfortable night at the restaurant, though never alone. He popped in and out of Abia’s, checking our progress and doing odd jobs—any little thing he could do to contribute. He wasn’t rude; he was just…distant. I hoped that with time, the sting of embarrassment or rejection or whatever he felt would wear off and we could pick up where we left off. In the meantime, I missed him. I missed us.
“Let’s begin,” Abia ordered, pulling me from my reverie. “Rowan, you stand across from me. I’ll repeat the words of the spell and when I nod to you, release six drops of your blood into the concoction.” She nodded her head to the pot in the middle of the table, already filled with both fresh and dried herbs, and an oozing, dark liquid. A long, thin bone laid beside the pot. I’d been following the process very closely as part of my education about wards, and magic, in general. I didn’t recall seeing a bone in the ingredient list, but it was certainly not the time to ask questions.
Chills skittered down my spine as Abia began chanting the words she read from Talbot’s musty grimoire. The air was so thick my thoughts seemed accelerated in comparison, as if what was going on inside my head was in overdrive, yet the room itself in slow motion.
When Abia nodded to Gresham, he cut the palm of his hand with a knife. He squeezed his hand over the pot—calling it a cauldron felt hokey, though that’s what it was—and when the six droplets hit the mixture, it bubbled and swallowed the droplets up. Abia finished her haunting chant and stirred the congealing mixture with the bone. The mixture churned and gurgled, as if some great magic was working just beneath its surface.
I held my breath, not sure what to look for as success or failure. I supposed it was one of those things that you knew when you saw it. But as time passed, the mixture’s churning slowed and finally stopped altogether. The disappointed look on Abia’s face confirmed my fear: it hadn’t worked.
Gresham’s roar of frustration caught all of us by surprise. I jumped and threw a metaphysical dart at his face reflexively. Gaspare threw Emelie behind him and stood breathing hard, presumably in an attempt to calm his beast. He shot Gresham a perturbed glare, but didn’t chastise him.
“Excellent work, Stella,” Abia sang. “You defended yourself using magic without thinking first, without even trying.”
I hid the offending hand behind my back and gave her a little smile in thanks. Gresham rubbed the angry red scratch across his cheek and scowled at me.
“Sorry,” I mouthed.
“W
hat now, Mother? Emelie?” Gaspare tried to move forward, to be progressive, but disappointment weighed as heavily on him as it did the rest of us.
“Now we start over. Retrace our steps. Determine where we went wrong.”
“I’m sorry,” Emelie said and massaged her temple. “I can’t manage any more today. Can we start fresh tomorrow?”
“Neither can I, dear. I’ll see you all back here tomorrow.”
Gresham traced without another word, and Gaspare and Emelie made their way out the door.
“What are you going to do now?” I asked Abia once we were alone.
“I’m going where I do my best thinking: the ocean.”
“Can I come?” I asked. “I think today’s the day I’d like to learn to dive.”
Pleasure at my desire to learn her dying tradition lit her from the inside out.
“I’d love nothing more.”
I wasn’t sure which would burst first from the pressure, my chest or my ears. I kicked and paddled for my life toward the sunlight that filtered through the calm blue waters. When I reached the surface, I gasped and coughed, pushed back my mask and rubbed at burning eyes. So many things were painful I didn’t know which to address first.
“Diving isn’t for the faint of heart, eh?” Abia said in a wheezing laugh. She’d stayed down longer than I had, yet her breathing was normal, not like my frantic pant.
“No,” I agreed through a juicy cough. “Will I always feel like I’m going to die?”
Abia laughed and shook her head. “No. Takes practice is all. You’ll get it. Someday. If you keep practicing.” She pulled a net above her head to reveal a haul of several sea urchins and shellfish. “Got some abalone today. A good haul. I don’t know what you’re going to eat.”
