The Siren and the Deep Blue Sea Page 12

  “Exactly.” Elinor nodded. “A larger ship would draw attention and perhaps come under attack. With my boat, I believe we can sneak in unnoticed.”

  Lobby nodded. “An excellent idea, Captain. The Sea Witch’s castle is on the northwestern edge of the island, so, to be safe, we should steer toward the opposite end.”

  “Thank you, Lobby,” she replied with a smile. “Will ye untie the mooring ropes, please, so we can be on our way?”

  “Aye, Captain!” Lobby scurried off.

  Nevis started to follow.

  “Colonel.” Elinor stopped him with a raised hand. “Ye may take your belongings belowdecks. You and Lobby will share the spare cabin with the cook.”

  “As you wish.” Nevis picked up his knapsack. “Anything else . . . Captain?”

  Her mouth twitched. “It must be getting colder.”

  “I must be in hell,” he muttered, then trudged down the stairs at the sound of her laughter.

  Chapter 9

  As Maeve approached the soldiers, she cringed inwardly at how intently the young men were staring at her. Brody had been right, blast him. She was no match for an Embraced army. And she shouldn’t have shifted in front of other people. At least the soldiers seemed to be more focused on her face than the rest of her half-naked body.

  “She looks so much like—” the wind-wielding soldier began.

  “Shh.” The other soldier, Alfred, hushed him.

  “Will you carry this for me?” Bettina shoved her large basket into Maeve’s arms.

  Why? Maeve glanced down at the seaweed in the basket, then realized that the basket was shielding her breasts from view much better than her hair could do. She gave Bettina a grateful look. “Thank you.”

  “I can come with you as far as the village,” Bettina whispered as she walked alongside her.

  “Thank you,” Maeve whispered back.

  “Quiet,” Alfred ordered. “And hurry it up.”

  “You’re in big trouble now, shifter!” Quentin raced in front of the women as they slowly climbed the dune.

  Maeve took a deep breath to calm her nerves and racing thoughts. How could she escape? Or would it be better not to escape? If she remained here, she might learn a great deal of useful information. Or she might end up locked in a dungeon.

  In any case, there was nothing she could do now but play along. She couldn’t fight or run away—these Embraced soldiers could strike her down or kill her with a wave of a hand. Could she talk her way out of being a prisoner? Brody had claimed she was a beauty, a siren who could make men cross the sea for her. She’d never believed it, but it wouldn’t hurt to see how effective her so-called charm could be.

  When she reached the top of the dune, she gave the soldiers a friendly smile. “My name is Maeve. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Alfred and . . . ?” She glanced at the wind-wielding soldier. He looked a year or two younger than she was.

  “Darroc, Miss.” He bowed his head.

  Maeve widened her smile. “Your gift is very impressive, Darroc.”

  He blushed. “Thank you.”

  “Are there many more like you here?” Maeve asked.

  “Yes, about—”

  “Shut up!” Alfred elbowed Darroc in the ribs, then glared at Maeve. “You’re our prisoner. We’ll ask the questions.”

  Obviously, her charm didn’t work on everyone. Even so, Maeve figured it would be better to behave more like a guest than a captive. “I would be happy to answer your questions, Alfred.”

  His glare grew wary. “You would? You’re not here to spy on us?”

  Maeve scoffed. “Goodness, no. Are you taking me to the queen? I would be delighted to meet her.”

  Alfred smirked. “As if you have any choice.”

  Maeve forced a smile. “May I ask her name?”

  “Cahira,” Darroc answered when Alfred remained silent.

  “She lives in the big castle over there.” Quentin pointed west.

  Now that she was at the top of the dune, Maeve could make out the towers in the distance. Was this the castle she’d seen in her dream? Would she meet her mother there?

  “The queen might throw you in the dungeon,” Quentin added, then bit his lip with a look of regret.

  Maeve groaned inwardly. Her “guest” approach wasn’t working well, either.

  “No more talking.” Alfred motioned to a path that wound down the hill. “This way.” He took the lead, followed by Quentin, Bettina, and Maeve.

  She realized Darroc was staying close behind her. Probably so she couldn’t attempt a mad dash back to the ocean.

  Once they reached the bottom of the hill, the path led them along a valley for a short distance. The sand gave way to grass that felt much cooler beneath Maeve’s bare feet. When they climbed another hill, she stopped at the top with a gasp.

  The wide, shallow valley was filled with a farming village. Several wooden cottages stood in the center, made of roughly hewn logs and thatched roofs. Surrounding the homes were vegetable gardens and, farther out, fields of grain and a pasture of cows and sheep. It looked much like any other farming village Maeve had ever seen, but what made her stop and stare were the laborers.

  Children.

  Some of them appeared to be under the age of ten. Were these the Embraced children Lord Morris had taken from their families?

  “Keep moving,” Darroc grumbled behind her, and she followed the others down the hill. After passing through a field of grain, they reached a garden where a few children were digging up root vegetables.

  Maeve winced at their dirty feet, ragged clothes, and resigned, weary expressions. Did the queen know what was going on here? Did she actually condone it? “Are these the Embraced children?” she whispered.

  Bettina nodded. “They live here until their Embraced gift shows itself. Then Queen Cahira and Kendric decide if the gift is powerful enough for the army.”

  “Who is Kendric?”

  “The general,” Bettina whispered. “If the gift is deemed . . . undesirable, the child remains here.”

  “As a slave?” Maeve muttered, and Bettina winced.

  “Quiet!” Alfred glanced back at them, scowling.

  They reached the outskirts of the village, where a young girl of about five was hanging seaweed on a rack to dry.

  She ran up to Bettina. “Am I doing it right?”

  “Yes.” Bettina gave the girl a hug. “Thank you, Sarah. I’ll bring you more seaweed in a minute.” She leaned down to whisper, “And a honey cake.”

  Sarah grinned, then ran back to the rack.

  “We use the seaweed for soup or to enrich the soil in the garden,” Bettina explained.

  “Do the children go to school or have time to play?” Maeve asked.

  “If you don’t work, you don’t eat,” Darroc said behind her.

  “That goes for you, too, Quentin. Back to work.”

  “Yes, sir.” Quentin’s skipping gait came to an abrupt halt, and he trudged into one of the buildings.

  The boy looked so sad, Maeve felt guilty for disliking him earlier. As they passed the blacksmith’s shop, she saw Quentin inside the three-walled building, working hard at the bellows in the searing heat. An old gray-haired man was hammering a sword.

  He glanced up at Alfred. “Colonel, I have more coins for the castle.”

  So Alfred was a colonel in the Embraced army? And someone named Kendric was the general. Maeve watched as Alfred examined a small basket of plain iron coins.

  “I’ll send a servant for these, Thomas,” Alfred told the old man, then pointed at Maeve. “You. Follow me.” He turned and marched away.

  “I have a name,” Maeve muttered.

  “Shouldn’t she be properly dressed before she goes to the castle?” Bettina asked. “You wouldn’t want to offend the queen.”

  Alfred stopped and glanced back.

  “I could loan her a gown,” Bettina offered. “It would take only a moment.”

  With a frown, Alfred crossed his arms. “Very wel
l, but be quick about it.”

  “This way.” Bettina led Maeve inside a wooden cottage and closed the door.

  “Is this your home?” Maeve asked as she looked about. About a quarter of the room was taken up by a large loom. The young woman working it glanced up, her eyes widening in shock. Maeve smiled at her. “Hello.”

  “Who . . . ?” The young woman rose to her feet. “She looks so much like . . .”

  “I know.” Bettina motioned to the young woman. “This is Catriona. And Olana is there at the spinning wheel. We live here, along with Sarah and the other girls.”

  Olana’s jaw dropped as she stared at Maeve.

  “Hello. My name is Maeve.” She smiled at Olana, who appeared to be about twelve years of age.

  Catriona slowly approached her. “How did you get here?”

  “Or more importantly—why?” Bettina gave Maeve a frustrated look. “There is nothing here for you but danger.”

  “And constant labor,” Olana muttered.

  “Let me find you a gown.” Bettina took the basket from Maeve’s arms and set it on the wooden floor.

  Olana gasped. “She’s naked!”

  “I’m a selkie,” Maeve explained. “I swam here, so I arrived without clothes.”

  Olana stepped toward her. “Then you’re a shifter?”

  Before Maeve could answer, Catriona grabbed her by the arm.

  “You must swim away,” Catriona insisted. “Now.”

  “She can’t.” Bettina selected a folded gown from a stack on a shelf. “Alfred and Darroc have taken her prisoner.”

  With a gasp, Catriona released her. “Oh, no.”

  Olana backed away, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are they taking her to the dungeon like they did Gabby?”

  Maeve stiffened. There was a girl in the dungeon?

  A banging on the door made them all jump.

  “Hurry up!” Alfred shouted.

  “That ass,” Catriona muttered.

  Maeve winced. “I have to agree.”

  Catriona leaned close. “He thinks he’s superior to everyone because he’s the only one with lightning power.”

  “But actually, he . . .” Maeve hesitated, unsure whether she should let anyone on this island know that Leo had the same power.

  “Here. You can wear this.” Bettina slipped a plain linen shift over Maeve’s head.

  “But that’s your best gown,” Olana said.

  As the blue linen gown fell to Maeve’s calves, she pulled the shawl off her hips and handed it to Bettina. “I shouldn’t take your best—”

  “You’ll be meeting the queen.” Bettina looped the shawl around Maeve’s shoulders. “You must be careful.”

  “Why?” Maeve asked, but before anyone could reply, Alfred banged on the door again.

  “Come out now!” he ordered.

  The three females gave Maeve a worried look as she turned toward the door.

  “Good luck,” Bettina whispered.

  * * *

  As Maeve walked toward the castle with the two soldiers, she eyed it carefully to see if it matched the one from her dream. It was hard to tell, though, since in her dream she had floated toward the castle from the north, where it faced the sea. Now, they were arriving from the back.

  The garden looked eerily familiar, though, with its hedges clipped to resemble rolling waves and larger plants trimmed into the shapes of dolphins and other sea creatures.

  This had to be the castle, she thought. What other garden in all of Aerthlan would look like this? But why were her dreams coming true? Did this mean she would meet her mother inside?

  As they approached the back of the castle, she noted a wide staircase leading up to the main floor that had a large balcony overlooking the garden. But instead of heading up the stairs, Alfred and Darroc led her to a plain door on the ground level that looked like the servants’ entrance.

  Apprehension crept into her bones as they entered and she noted the gray, unadorned stone walls. Was she on her way to the dungeon? The stone floor was cool beneath her bare feet, but felt dusty. The soldiers’ leather sandals made clopping noises that echoed off the walls. Clunk. Clunk. The repetitive sound grated on her nerves, reminding her of the slow drumbeat that announced a doomed criminal arriving at the gallows.

  Soon they entered a vast cellar room, its low arched ceiling supported by numerous stone pillars. No windows, so the air was stale and musty. Light from a few torches flickered, but most of the room remained in shadow. Across the wide room, beside one torch, she spotted iron bars. A row of prison cells.

  At the end of the row, a gasp came from the shadows. Then a crash.

  “What is going on?” Darroc pulled a torch from its wall bracket and walked toward the noise.

  In the light, Maeve could see a girl behind the bars staring at her. In front of the bars, an older woman was hunched down, hastily collecting wooden bowls and utensils off the floor and depositing them on a wooden tray.

  “What are you doing here, Ruth?” Alfred demanded.

  “I came to pick up Gabby’s breakfast tray,” Ruth mumbled, her head bowed.

  The girl behind bars was Gabby? Maeve thought she looked only about sixteen or so. Hardly more than a child. Why on Aerthlan was she locked up?

  Alfred scoffed. “Well, you certainly made a mess of it.”

  “I’m sorry, Colonel.” Ruth straightened, holding the tray. “I didn’t mean to drop it. We were just shocked when we saw the young woman—”

  “Right,” Gabby agreed. “She looks so much like—”

  “Enough!” Alfred snarled. “Get back to work, both of you. And Gabby, there will be more coins arriving this afternoon.”

  Gabby’s shoulders slumped as she retreated into her cell.

  Maeve gritted her teeth. “This is outrageous. Why is that girl imprisoned?”

  Alfred scoffed, then pointed at the next cell. “You could end up there, so keep your mouth shut.”

  “Bully,” Gabby muttered, and Alfred shot her a vicious look.

  Maeve lifted her chin. “Take me to Queen Cahira immediately. I need to have a word with her.”

  Gabby ran to the bars and grabbed on to them. “Ask her about Gavin. I haven’t seen him in—”

  “Enough!” Alfred shouted. “Ruth, do you know where the queen is?”

  Ruth slanted Maeve a worried look, then replied with her head bowed. “She’s in the tank, taking her morning swim.”

  “This way.” Alfred motioned for Maeve to follow him.

  Darroc slid the torch back into place, then caught up with Maeve.

  “Why is Gabby behind bars?” Maeve whispered.

  “She refused to work,” he mumbled.

  Maeve sighed. The more she saw of this island, the more it angered her. What kind of queen could be so cruel to children? Even though Maeve knew she ought to be planning her escape so she could send a warning to her sisters and their husbands, the situation here was pressing on her mind and conscience. How could she leave these children without trying to help them?

  Of course, if she wasn’t careful, she could end up in the prison cell next to Gabby.

  After walking through a maze of narrow stone corridors, they finally stopped in front of a closed door.

  “Darroc, stand guard here in case she tries to escape,” Alfred ordered.

  “Aye, Colonel.”

  Alfred opened the door and shoved Maeve inside. She stumbled a few steps, then halted in shock.

  Was she underwater? No, she was perfectly dry and standing on a solid stone floor, but surrounding her was water. And fish.

  “What is this place?” She moved to her right and pressed a hand against clear glass.

  “This is the tank room.” Alfred closed the door behind them.

  “I’ve never seen such a huge window.” She peered into the tank and saw fish, sea plants and coral. “It looks like the sea.”

  “The tank has a tunnel that leads into the ocean, so sometimes fish find their way inside.”
Alfred snorted. “They rarely make it back out.”

  “They can’t find their way out again?” She glanced at Alfred, and he smirked.

  “No, they’re dinner.”

  She stepped back from the tank and looked around. At the end of the narrow room, there was a staircase she assumed went to the top of the tank. Across from the giant glass window, the wall was covered with mirrors that reflected the water and fish, making the entire room appear to be under the sea.

  A sudden movement in a mirror drew her attention, and she turned back to peer into the glass. A long sleek body shot up to the surface, then dove back down. A seal.

  Maeve planted her hands on the glass. Can you hear me? Are you all right? Are you trapped?

  The seal zoomed around the perimeter of the tank. Who are you that you can speak to me?

  I’m a selkie.

  The seal came to a stop close to Maeve and peered at her with glistening black eyes. You.

  Yes. Are you trapped in there? Don’t worry. There is a way out.

  Without answering her, the seal curled under and swam away, back into the murky depths of the tank.

  Maeve leaned against the glass, trying to see where the seal had gone. A sudden flash of light made her turn her head and close her eyes.

  As soon as she opened her eyes, a huge purple mass slammed against the glass. She jumped back with a gasp. Thick tentacles slithered like snakes across the glass, the suction cups gripping the smooth surface to propel the large, quivering body closer to Maeve.

  It was an octopus, the biggest one Maeve had ever seen, possessing a body or mantle as large as an adult human and tentacles as long and thick as a man’s legs. The mantle undulated, turning until the creature’s head pressed against the glass and one huge eye focused on Maeve.

  She swallowed hard. Still, the octopus remained, its eye watching her intently. Should she try communicating with it? Why are you staring at me?

  No answer. She glanced at Alfred. “When is the queen going to arrive?”

  With a snort, he leaned against the door and crossed his arms.

  “I thought she was taking a morning swim. Will she be safe in there with this giant—” Maeve stopped when the octopus suddenly pushed away from the glass and disappeared into the murky depths.