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The Siren and the Deep Blue Sea

Page 16

by Kerrelyn Sparks


  Good goddesses! Was he going to tattle on her? Would he tell Cahira that she had questioned him about the whereabouts of the Embraced army? This was terrible. Her mother would be more convinced than ever that she was a spy.

  But did this even make sense? How could the Seer have started the Circle of Five? Wouldn’t he have foreseen the damage that the Circle would cause?

  Could she even be sure that this was the Seer? If he was, then whom had Brody buried on the Isle of Mist under the cairn of stones? Feeling increasingly confused and tense, she tightened her fingers on the stone balustrade.

  As the guards carried the Seer toward the castle, his hood turned from side to side. Maeve figured he was looking at the garden. Then his head stopped, and she could feel his gaze locked on her and her mother.

  Suddenly, he pressed a hand to his chest. Then he doubled over, as if he were in great pain.

  “Oh dear,” Cahira murmured. “I fear he will not live to see your wedding.”

  Chapter 12

  Damn, damn, damn! Brody remained hunched over. What the hell was Maeve doing here? By the goddesses, he ought to wring her neck! Hadn’t she agreed to remain on the Isle of Moon? After all his attempts to keep her safe, the stubborn girl had landed herself right in the middle of danger.

  “Are you all right, sir?” one of the servants asked.

  He shook his head. Thank the goddesses he was pretending to be the Seer. No one would question the hissing sound he made as he breathed through gritted teeth. No one would wonder why his fists were tightly gripping his staff. It would all be interpreted as an old man suffering from a sudden onslaught of pain.

  The sad truth was it had been painful when he’d first spotted Maeve. The shock had hit him like a donkey kick to the chest, knocking all the air from his lungs. Luckily, his hood kept his face hidden so no one had seen his stunned expression.

  How had she gotten here? She must have swum all the way with her seal friends. And now, she was at Cahira’s castle. Voluntarily or not, he didn’t know. The older woman standing next to Maeve had to be her mother, Cahira. They resembled each other too much. In appearance only, for sweet Maeve had a kind and loving heart, while Cahira was a power-hungry liar and manipulator.

  Oh, dear goddesses, how much had Maeve learned? Did she know that her mother was the driving force behind the Circle of Five? Did she know her parents had started the Circle? If so, she had to be devastated.

  The heat of his anger melted away as he realized she must be hurting. He had to help her. Protect her.

  He sat up and took a deep breath. The servants had carried him across most of the strange garden and were now skirting the two differently colored ponds. He was close enough now to see the faces of mother and daughter. Maeve looked tense, while Cahira’s expression was full of concern and sympathy. The woman must actually care about the Seer.

  You are the Seer, he reminded himself. He would have to act as if he and Cahira were old friends, even if it curdled his stomach. And he would have to act shocked and delighted to be finally meeting his daughter.

  Should he let Maeve know who he was?

  Cahira waved at him, and he gave her a weak wave back. The servants who were carrying him arrived at the base of the stairs and lowered the litter to the ground. Apparently, this staircase was too steep for them to carry him up. He made a show of slowly rising from the chair and hobbling toward the stairs.

  “Do you need help, sir?” one of the servants asked.

  “I can manage,” he grumbled as he planted his staff on the first stairstep, then grasped the stone balustrade and ascended one step.

  “My dear Burien.” Cahira sauntered to the top of the stairs. “Welcome to Aerie Castle.”

  He froze with his foot on the next step. That voice . . .

  “I have a wonderful surprise for you.” Cahira pulled Maeve forward. “Our daughter is here!”

  Brody collapsed to his knees as the world swirled around him and the dreaded memory slammed back into his head. He was in the middle of the ocean, screams of terror assaulting his ears, grasping hands pulling him under. He squeezed his eyes shut, but still he could see the lifeless bodies of his father and brother. The memory dragged him down, forcing him to relive the moment he had sunk into the water, overwhelmed with so much despair he wanted to die.

  But his body, still hungry for life, had shifted. The sudden onslaught of physical pain had wracked him, and yet he had welcomed it as a diversion from the mental anguish of grief. And finally, as a seal, he had heard the Sea Witch’s voice. Taunting him. Cursing him.

  It had been an odd voice. Strangely compelling. A siren’s voice, but chilling, unlike Maeve’s voice, which had always felt warm and comforting. He’d always believed he would recognize the Sea Witch’s voice if he heard it again.

  And he had.

  Cahira. She was the one who had cursed him. The one who had killed his father and brother and all the rest of the crew. After years of searching, he’d finally found her. With a moan, he dropped his staff and lowered his head into his hands. Why the hell did she have to be Maeve’s mother?

  Hands grasped at his arms as the servants tried to help him back onto his feet.

  “Burien, let them help you,” Cahira said with concern in her voice.

  Bitch. Brody felt as if he could burst into fire from the sudden surge of hot rage pulsing through his veins. Die. The woman needed to die. He was tempted to run up the stairs and strangle her. Not now. Not in front of Maeve. Still, it took him a few minutes to tamp down the fury swirling inside him.

  Patience. He forced his hands to relax. You will have your revenge. But for now, he needed to control his thoughts and emotions. It would be a terrible mistake to kill the witch right away. First, he had to force her to lift his curse. Then, he could have a normal life. He could even court Maeve.

  Fool. How could Maeve have any desire for him if he killed her mother? And how would his own mother and sister react once they learned that Maeve’s mother was the murderer who’d destroyed their family? Shit, his relationship with Maeve was more doomed than ever.

  Persevere, he told himself. He’d survived until now, and he would continue to do so. Shaking off the servants’ hands, he lifted his gaze to the two women. “Is it true?” he asked in a shaky voice. “This young woman is my daughter?”

  “Yes.” Cahira sighed. “I guess I should have waited before telling you. It was too much of a shock for you.”

  Brody closed his eyes briefly. Let the bitch think that was the reason he had collapsed. Once again, he was grateful for the camouflage of being the Seer. He lifted a trembling hand in Maeve’s direction. “My daughter?”

  Maeve gave him a wary look. “Yes.”

  She was undoubtedly afraid that he would mention having met her before on the Isle of Mist. “My dear child, will you help me up the stairs?”

  “Go.” Cahira gave her a small push, then motioned to the servants. “Bring the chair up here.”

  While the servants hauled the litter up the steep staircase, Maeve made her way to Brody.

  He reached for her and felt her stiffen as he pulled her into an embrace. “Thank the goddesses!” he cried in a loud voice, then whispered in her ear. “Don’t be afraid. I’m on your side.”

  She pulled back, her eyes wide as she tried to see his face inside the hood.

  “Come now, let me lean on you.” He grabbed the balustrade with one hand and looped his arm across her shoulders. “Will you bring my staff?” When she reached for it, he added, “What is your name, my dear?”

  She straightened, the staff in one hand and her other hand lifting her skirt a few inches so they could slowly climb the stairs. “I am Maeve.”

  “A lovely name. And where have you been all these years?”

  She slanted a confused look his direction. “I grew up on the Isle of Moon. In the convent there.”

  “I see. What a shame I didn’t know.” Was she recalling how on the Isle of Mist, he’d already known all abo
ut her? Figure it out, Maeve. “What a delight to finally meet you. For years, I feared that you were dead.”

  She blinked. “Why would you think that?”

  “Well.” He glanced at Cahira, and the temptation to poke at her was too much. “Didn’t you tell me our daughter had died?”

  Cahira winced, then waved a dismissive hand. “It’s a long story. We can talk about it later. Right now, I think we had better take you straight to your bedchamber so you can rest.”

  “I am quite tired.” He reached the top of the stairs and took Maeve’s hand in his own. “I always prayed that you had survived. For I knew from my visions that you would become the most beautiful woman in all of Aerthlan.”

  Cahira scoffed.

  “Oh, not that I have forgotten you, my dear.” Brody turned toward the witch. “But we can’t stay young forever, can we?” He celebrated inwardly when she gritted her teeth. “It is always a joy to see you. Thank you for bringing me here.” He reached a hand toward her.

  “Of course, Burien.” Cahira stepped forward to clasp his hand, but he avoided contact by suddenly lifting his hand to push back his hood. He’d tried to make his face appear even more gray and thin, and apparently it had worked, for Cahira reeled back in shock.

  “Oh, my dear Burien. We must get you to bed immediately.” She latched onto his arm and hustled him into the chair. “Take him to the silver room,” she told the servants.

  While the servants hoisted him up, Brody groaned as if he were in pain. “Now that I have finally met my daughter, I cannot bear to be separated from her. May I have a bedchamber next to hers so I can see her often?”

  Cahira frowned. “That is not what I had planned.”

  Brody let his shoulders slump. “Will you not grant a dying man his last wish?”

  Cahira hissed in a breath. “Of course, Burien.” She turned to the servants and snarled, “Take him to the green room.”

  “Thank you, my dear.” As the servants carried him down a hallway, Brody recalled how badly the Seer had wanted to meet his daughter. The poor old man. He let his eyes fill with tears. “Now I will die a happy man.”

  “Oh, Burien.” Cahira grabbed his hand and kissed it.

  He struggled to keep the disgust off his face. “Oh, I feel nauseous.” He pulled his hand away to rub his stomach.

  Cahira gave him a sympathetic look. “You’re not used to traveling on the ocean, are you?”

  He shook his head. “I was on the Isle of Mist for seventy-five years.”

  “You’ll feel better once you’re in bed.” As Cahira walked beside the litter, she launched into a long lecture about Aerie Castle—how ancient it was, and how it had been built when those on the mainland still lived in mud huts. “But then, you already know that we’re from a superior race.”

  He grunted in reply. Before the witch could start bragging again, he turned to Maeve. She was on the other side of the litter, still holding his staff. “How long have you been here, my dear?”

  She gave him a quick glance. “I arrived this morning.”

  “By boat?” he asked.

  Maeve shook her head, but before she could reply, Cahira butted in.

  “She swam here. She’s a selkie, which means she inherited a small portion of my power.” Cahira motioned to herself. “While our daughter is limited to the form of a seal, I can shift into any sea creature I like.”

  “Like a pufferfish?” he muttered under his breath.

  “Excuse me?” Cahira stepped closer to the litter.

  “I’m worried about Trouble,” Brody said, raising his voice.

  “Oh.” Cahira scoffed. “There will be no trouble here. I’m completely in charge.”

  “I meant the cat you gave me two years ago.” Brody had learned about it from the Seer’s journal. “I named him Trouble. He ran away, and I’m worried—”

  “He’ll be fine,” Cahira insisted, then muttered under her breath, “He definitely is Trouble.”

  So the cat had annoyed her, and that was why she’d foisted it on the Seer? Strange, Brody thought, wondering what the cat had done. And something else was strange . . . “I’m curious, my dear. How can it be that one of the ponds is green, while the other is blue?”

  “I was wondering that myself,” Maeve murmured.

  Cahira gave them a smug look. “It has to do with tiny creatures who are living in the water and how they reflect the sunlight.” She chuckled. “But of course the islanders think it is a magical spell I put on the water.”

  “There are other people here?” Brody asked.

  “Of course.” Cahira waved a dismissive hand. “Servants, guards, and the Embraced children brought here by Lord Morris. You remember him, don’t you? He was the third person to join our Circle.”

  Brody’s hands tightened on the arms of his chair. So Maeve knew the truth about her parents now. And she had been correct about the Embraced army being here. He tried to recall how much the Seer had actually known about the Circle or the army. Not much, really, for Cahira had kept him in the dark about her more nefarious plans. If the witch suspected he was not the real Seer, she might be fishing right now. “Did we talk about that?” He gave her a confused look. “I’m afraid my memory is not what it used to be.”

  She nodded. “I’ll explain everything after you’ve had some rest. And I’ll have some hot porridge brought to you, too.”

  Porridge? He winced inwardly. What he needed was some real food. While the servants carried him up a shallow staircase to the next floor, he came up with a plan. “Could you have a tray of food delivered for Maeve? I would like to dine with her and hear all about her life.”

  Cahira huffed. “How exciting could that be? She grew up in a convent.”

  “Perhaps, but I want to hear her siren voice. I find it quite soothing.”

  Cahira’s mouth twisted in annoyance as she climbed the stairs beside the litter. “I’m a siren, too. Where do you think she got it from?”

  Brody ignored that. “No doubt, if my daughter sang, men would cross the ocean to hear her voice. If she laughed, they would lose their hearts to her.”

  Maeve stumbled on a step, her face growing pale and her knuckles turning white as she gripped his staff hard.

  “Is that why you lost your heart to me?” Cahira asked with a smug look.

  “Quite so, my dear.” Brody smiled at her. The servants reached the next floor and carried him down a hallway. He glanced back to make sure Maeve was following them. “Could you bring our daughter two trays of food? She barely made it up the stairs. Have you not been feeding her?”

  Cahira gritted her teeth. “She is not going hungry.”

  He might be overdoing the pettiness, Brody thought. So he gave Cahira a tearful smile. “I can’t thank you enough, my dear. Being here is such a blessing. Please forgive me if I’m out of sorts. I’ve been in too much pain lately.”

  Cahira’s face softened. “I understand, Burien.” She stopped beside a door and opened it. “Here we are. The green room.”

  The servants lowered the litter, and Brody eased shakily onto his feet.

  As Cahira led him into the bedchamber, she told the servants, “Take the chair away, and tell the kitchen staff to bring plenty of food and wine here, along with a bowl of hot porridge.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty.” They bowed and carried the litter away.

  Maeve slipped inside the room and rested his staff against the wall. Her gaze wandered about the bedchamber.

  Brody gave the room a quick glance. The walls were a creamy yellow and covered with paintings of the garden. Against one wall sat a large four-poster bed with a dark green coverlet. There were matching curtains at the windows. One door close to the windows, then another door back in a recessed sitting area. He spotted a key in the door. “Is my daughter’s room through there?”

  “Yes.” Cahira smirked. “If you grow tired of her, send her to her room and lock the door.”

  Maeve rolled her eyes, but Cahira didn’t see it since s
he was busy turning down the covers on the bed.

  “Come and rest now.” Cahira drew him toward the bed. “Later tonight, I’m planning a small party for you.”

  Brody collapsed onto the bed. “Oh, but I’m far too exhausted. Would you mind if we have the party tomorrow? I really need to sleep now.”

  Cahira sighed. “Very well.”

  Brody yawned. “After the food arrives, I would like to be left undisturbed till morning.”

  “Are you sure?” Cahira frowned. “You’re quite ill, Burien. I don’t mind checking on you.”

  “I’ll be fine.” He reached a trembling hand for Maeve. “I’ll have my daughter here to nurse me.”

  Maeve hurried toward him and took his hand. “I would be grateful for this time with my father, so I can get to know him.”

  Still frowning, Cahira muttered, “Very well. I’ll see you in the morning, Burien.”

  “Good night, my dear.” Brody waited for the witch to leave the room.

  As soon as the door shut, Maeve dropped his hand and stepped back, scowling at him.

  Was she angry? She couldn’t be as angry as he was.

  He sat up, listening for the witch’s footsteps to fade away. Then he slipped out of bed and rushed toward the door.

  “You’re moving much faster now,” Maeve muttered.

  He held a finger to his lips to warn her to be quiet, then he cracked open the door to peer outside. No guard outside his door, but he spotted one down the hallway at the next door. Was Maeve a prisoner?

  Quietly, he closed the door, then dashed over to the entrance to Maeve’s bedchamber. It was indeed locked. He retrieved the key and headed back to his door. Yes! The key worked. He could talk to Maeve now. And vent his anger.

  He turned toward her and cleared the white film from his pupils so he could see her better.

  Her eyes widened.

  He stalked toward her. “What the hell are you doing here, Maeve?”

  Her eyes flashed with anger. “What the hell are you doing, Bro—”

  He stopped her with a finger on her lips. “You should avoid saying my name here in the castle.”

  She shoved his hand away. “Fine. What are you doing here, Julia?”

 

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