by P. C. Cast
A school of giant angelfish fled from his path as his rage caused the surrounding waters to froth and boil. He felt another surge of frustration as Christine struggled alone on land against her need.
"By Lir's trident, there must be something I can do!" Dylan raged.
"To begin with, you could change your curses. Evoking the power of Lir will not aid you at all if what you desire is on land." Gaea's lilting voice was a song as it carried clearly over the waves.
"Gaea!" Dylan exclaimed.
With powerful strokes, he propelled himself to the shoreline. The goddess was sitting on an old piece of driftwood, dangling her feet in the surf. She was clothed in a dress the color of night, but it shimmered with the reflection of the water as if it was made of liquid velvet.
"Your daughter needs me, Great Mother," Dylan said respectfully. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath.
The goddess's gaze was sharp. "Are you saying that you feel her need, merman?"
Dylan's fist closed over his heart. "As if it were my own."
Gaea's eyes warmed. "Yes, I can see that. You and Christine are linked. Your souls have found their match. It is a rare and wondrous thing, but it is a double-edged sword. Her pain is yours, as yours is hers."
"I would have it no other way."
"What is it you wish of me, Dylan?" she asked so softly that the merman had to strain to hear her.
"Grant me human form!" he said in a rush of words. "Allow me to go to her and comfort her."
Gaea tapped one slender finger against the driftwood as she considered the merman's request.
"My father was of the land. That must bind me to you in some way," Dylan beseeched. "I ask only for a temporary form. Allow me the remainder of this one brief night as a human man."
"It is true that you have a tie to the Earth. But this bond is mortal, as was your father. If I gift you with the form of a human, it will strengthen the part of you that is mortal. The cost could be high, Dylan. You may age. You certainly will become more vulnerable to injury, especially if you are wounded by an immortal." Gaea's beautiful voice was sad.
"Christine needs me."
The goddess sought and held the merman's steady gaze. She read clearly there his love for Christine. And she could feel Christine's soul, too, as it yearned for the respite only her lover's arms could provide.
"I am ever weak when faced with true love." Gaea spoke more to herself than to Dylan, but her words made his face blaze with joy. The goddess held up her hand in a gesture of restraint. "Listen well, Dylan. The spell will last only a short length of time. You must return to the waters before the light of the new day touches the land. If you do not,"—she added power to her words which raised the hair on the nape of Dylan's neck—"you will be trapped. You will belong to neither realm—the land or the sea. You will perish, and your soul will roam without rest for eternity."
The merman nodded gravely. "I will not forget, Great Goddess."
"See that you do not. My daughter would be most displeased."
Dylan smiled. "As would I."
Gaea tried unsuccessfully to keep her lips from turning up. "I am beginning to understand why my daughter chose you, merman."
"She simply showed the discerning wisdom of her Great Mother." Dylan bowed gallantly.
The goddess's laughter glittered around her as she motioned for the merman to swim closer so that she could begin casting her spell.
CC decided the night was never going to end. Her body ached and her mind wouldn't shut up.
"Wine," she said to the silent room as she lit the candle next to her bed. "That monk outside my room has to be good for something. I'll just act all regal and send him off to get me some wine." She spoke to the sputtering wick. "A couple cups of that thick red stuff I had the other night should do the trick."
Isabel had left her a fresh woolen robe, and CC wrapped it around her like a cloak. Satisfied the transparent chemise was well covered she walked quickly to the door, wincing at the cold of the stone floor against her bare feet. Mentally she made a note to stoke the fire to take the chill from the room.
She opened the door slowly, not wanting to startle the Brother. He was sitting with his back resting against the wall beside her door. His cowl was pulled up, and she couldn't see his face.
CC cleared her throat.
The monk didn't move.
"Urn, excuse me, Brother," she said.
"He sleeps." The deep voice came from the shadows. The sound of it made her heart leap in response.
"Who's there?" CC asked.
"Do you need to ask, my love?" Dylan said as he stepped toward her.
"Oh!" CC pressed her hand against her mouth, sure that she was hallucinating, or that Sarpedon was playing a horrible trick on her.
Dylan touched her face. "Am I so very different, Christine?"
Her eyes darted from the strong lines of his familiar face down his body. He was wearing a monk's robe, but peeking from beneath it were two very human, very bare feet.
"I… you… but how?" Had she dreamed him?
"Let us call it a gift from a goddess."
His smile convinced her. He couldn't be a trick. Sarpedon wasn't capable of using such joy as a masquerade. She grabbed his hand and pulled him into her room, closing the door carefully behind them.
"The monk will not awaken. Gaea has seen to that." Dylan's eyes were sparkling. Then he looked around with open curiosity. 'This is where you spend your days?"
"Well, not exactly," she said, surprised at her sudden nervousness. "I mean, I change my clothes here, and I sleep here, but I spend most of my day out there." She jerked her thumb in the direction of the door and ordered her mouth to quit babbling.
"It is…" Dylan hesitated. "… very gray," he finally concluded. Then he nodded at the narrow bed. "And that is where you rest your body at night?"
"In theory," CC sighed. "I don't seem to be having much success with resting lately."
Dylan turned to her and took her face in his hands. He noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the sallow tinge of her skin. He kissed her forehead and then gently kissed her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut.
"I have come to help you rest," he said.
Keeping her eyes closed, she leaned into him. "Now that you're here, I'm not tired at all."
She could feel the chuckle rumble through his chest.
'Then perhaps you would be willing to teach me something of this human body. It is an odd thing to have legs."
His kiss cut off her laughter. When they broke apart Dylan's eyes had darkened with desire. CC took his hand and led him to her bed. First, she dropped the robe from around her shoulders. Then she let the chemise fall from her body. She tugged on his robe, and he bent so that she could pull the rough woolen fabric over his head.
"Look at you," she said breathlessly. He was tall and had the build of an athlete. "Thank you, Gaea."
Dylan smiled. "I make an adequate man?"
CC raised one eyebrow as her gaze flicked down to the flesh that already stood erect between his long, muscular legs.
Her face warmed as her cheeks flushed pink. "Oh, yes. You make more than an adequate man."
Dylan pulled her into his arms. "Teach me how to love you as a human man loves a woman."
CC looked up at him and felt the restless pain within her loosen its stranglehold. "It's the same, my love. In any form you and I were made to fit perfectly together."
They sank down onto the bed, lost in one another.
Dylan knew that he hadn't banished the ache within her, but he had soothed it and made it bearable. She had needed him, and he had responded. No price was too great to pay to be with her. They would belong to each other for an eternity.
Chapter 20
The screech of a seagull woke him. It was such a normal sound, a sound he heard every day of his life. He had almost drifted back to sleep when the gull screeched again.
"Make it go away," CC mumbled, and snuggled more securely agai
nst his chest.
Dylan's eyes shot open, and he was instantly awake. His heart pounded painfully in his chest until his mind registered that the room was still cast in the darkness of predawn. He forced his panic to subside.
The gull screeched again.
CC's eyes cracked open. The bird was perched on the window ledge.
"What is it doing?" she grumbled. Then she kissed Dylan's chest and nuzzled him.
"I believe it is a messenger from your mother, reminding me that my time is limited."
"Do you have to go?" she asked sleepily.
Dylan kissed the top of her head. "If I do not, I will not live," he said simply.
"What?" CC's eyes sprang open. She read the truth on her lover's face. "You should have told me!" She lunged out of bed, pulling him after her. "When do you have to return?"
"Before light touches the land."
CC ran to the window. Dylan moved behind her, looking over her shoulder. Predawn was already beginning to gray the night-darkened ocean. His stomach contracted.
"You can't take the time to leave through the monastery." Her eyes darted to his masculine body, gauging his size. "I think you can fit if you squeeze."
He lifted his brows in a question.
"Through the window," she said, pointing. "The cliffside is right outside there. Hurry!"
Dylan nodded and bent to kiss her quickly. Then he hoisted his naked body up to the windowsill. It was a tight fit, and rock scraped his skin painfully, but it took him only a moment to pop through like a cork to the surface of a pool of water. On her toes, CC peered out the window. His smile flashed in the darkness.
"I have enjoyed being a man, Christine." His grin was endearingly male.
Even through her worry, CC smiled. "Hurry, silly."
"I will wait for you tonight," Dylan said. "And for all of eternity."
Then he turned and sprinted towards the cliff. CC's mouth opened in a soundless scream when she saw his naked muscles bunch powerfully. Before she could shout a warning, he reached the edge of the cliff and leapt from its impossibly steep side. His body arched in a spectacular dive, and in the moment before the sun touched the land CC saw the flash of fire that signaled his change from human to merman. She stood at the window for a very long time, struggling against the painful desire to follow him.
Dawn had shifted from gray to mauve when she finally turned from the window. All sight of Dylan was gone. Slowly, with movements that might have belonged to a woman Isabel's age, she pulled on her robe and belted it. Rolling up the sleeves she pushed open the door, almost causing the monk who knelt outside in the hall to fall over.
"Good morning, I didn't mean to startle you," CC said.
The monk stood. CC noticed that his face was flushed and he looked woozy, like he had just awakened from a delicious, goddess-induced dream.
"The abbot asked that I bring you to him upon your waking." The monk's voice cracked with sleep.
CC shook her head. Dylan's absence was a raw wound, and it left her in no mood to deal with Abbot William's sly questioning. "Please tell the abbot that I am honored by his invitation, but that I must get to work immediately on my restoration of the Holy Mother."
The monk's mouth opened and closed compulsively. CC thought it made him look like a bizarre species of land flounder.
"I'm sure the abbot will understand. He, of all people, knows the importance of honoring the Holy Mother. Have a blessed day, Brother, and thank you for watching over me last night."
CC hurried down the hall. When she glanced over her shoulder at the monk, he was still standing in front of her door. And his mouth was still open.
The way through the dining room which led to the servant's entrance to the kitchen felt like a familiar friend, and CC's leather slippers made soft little padding noises as she circumvented the courtyard and the silently watching well. Peeking into the dining room she let out a relieved breath. It was empty except for Isabel, who was clearing the last of the dishes from one of the tables.
"Good morning," CC said.
"That stubborn look tells me that no matter how weary you are, you will still be about the Virgin's business," Isabel stated with frustrated concern.
"Stubborn? I'm not stubborn."
Isabel's answer was a rude noise in the back of her throat, which almost made CC laugh.
They both headed into the kitchen, which was a wonderful mixture of busy women and delicious smells. Each woman greeted CC with a smile and a warm hello.
"Already had your bucket and such taken to the chapel," Lynelle said in her gruff voice.
"Thank you, but you didn't need to go to any trouble for me. You already have enough to do," CC said.
"We did not do it," Gwenyth said. "We asked some of the Brothers to gather and carry the things."
CC blinked in surprise.
"There are those among the Brothers who are pleased that the Holy Mother is being restored," Isabel explained.
"And a little water fetching does not take them long from tending their precious sheep and gardens," Lynelle grumbled.
"I made this for you," Bronwyn slurred softly, handing CC a mug of warm tea.
"Eat this on the way to the chapel. You must not allow yourself to weaken. The Holy Mother needs you strong and healthy." Gwenyth gave her a hard roll with a hunk of cheese and meat inside of it.
"You have no idea how much this means to me this morning," CC said, suddenly feeling near tears. "Thank you. I appreciate all of you."
The four women made scoffing noises, waving off her thanks, but CC could see the pleasure that flushed their wizened faces.
"Go on with you," Isabel said. "Today we will make certain that you eat."
On impulse, CC leaned down and kissed the old woman's cheek before hurrying out the door.
It must have rained sometime during the night, because the gardens were still wet and sparkling. CC breathed deeply, enjoying the damp smells of grass and flower as they mixed with the ever-present salt tang of the nearby ocean. Chewing the last of the breakfast roll, she strolled slowly through the twisting paths, taking the long way to the chapel. She passed several monks already busy pruning and weeding and was pleasantly surprised when two of them met her gaze and nodded shy good mornings.
The chapel was dim and still filled with an oppressive layer of incense from dawn mass, but as CC made her way to the Virgin's statue, she felt her spirit lighten. The Blessed Mother was lit by dozens of white candles, and the statue glowed like a golden beacon of hope. Yesterday, CC had left six candles burning around the base of the statue.
Someone, perhaps even several someones, had already begun visiting the Virgin.
Placed in a neat row to one side of the niche that held the statue were three buckets of clean water, a hunk of soap, a pile of clean rags and a large straw broom.
"Time to get to work," she told Gaea's serene face.
"Ugh!" CC scooped up another pile of rancid-smelling mess while she muttered to herself. "I have no way of being certain, but I think that this is poo from a giant squirrel."
"Actually, it is from a raccoon, but a giant squirrel is an excellent guess." Gaea had materialized in front of the statue, her blue and gold silk wrap mirroring the soft colors in the Virgin's robes.
"I should have known that even a giant squirrel wouldn't be giant enough to make this nasty mess." CC smiled at the goddess. "Good morning, it's nice to see a clean face."
"Good afternoon to you, daughter. You have worked the morning away." Gaea returned her smile and clicked her fingers. In a shower of silver sparks a wet towel appeared in one hand and a goblet appeared in the other. She gestured for CC to join her.
"Come, sit and refresh yourself. I have news."
CC sat next to the goddess and gratefully accepted the damp towel, wiping the dirt from her face and hands with a sigh of pleasure. When she was at least semiclean, Gaea handed her the goblet. It was filled with a thick, honey-colored liquid. CC sipped.
"Yum! This is
delicious. What is it?"
With a gentle wave of her wrist Gaea produced her own goblet.
"It is Viking mead. I thought it the appropriate drink since you have been mistaken for a Norse sorceress."
"Very appropriate," she agreed. "I want to thank you for the gift you gave Dylan and me last night." She felt heat spring to her cheeks as Gaea's sparkling eyes smiled knowingly at her.
"He did make a spectacular man," the goddess said wistfully.
"As usual, you are correct. Last night was…" She sighed dreamily. "… exactly what I needed. Thank you, Mother."
Gaea nodded graciously and sipped her mead. She would not share with her daughter the cost of last night's passion. It had been Dylan's choice, and he had made it willingly. She would not taint his sacrifice by telling Christine news that would surely cause her guilt and pain. And, if fate was kind, the price Dylan would have to pay would be no more than a few wrinkles or an attractive graying of his ebony-colored hair.
Gaea cleared her throat. Without preamble she said, "Lir is preoccupied. I called to him from our private cove, and he sent a selkie as his messenger." The goddess flipped back her thick hair and crossed her legs, obviously annoyed. "There is some problem with Pele, the Hawaiian fire goddess. Mano is causing some mischief with her local priestesses, and Pele has threatened to erupt an underwater volcano in retribution. Mano has appealed to Lir. And, of course, Lir has never minded interceding when the passion of a goddess is involved."
"Who is Mano?"
'The Hawaiian shark god—and a rather nasty fellow." Gaea shook her head in disgust. "Island immortals are all so petty. Too little land to ground them and to provide them the depth they need for real wisdom."
"So you didn't get to talk to Lir at all?"
"No, his message said he would come to me as soon as he has resolved the Hawaiian problem."
