The Siren and the Deep Blue Sea Page 5

  “It seemed real.”

  “Most dreams do. But they’re just dreams.”

  Maeve shrugged. “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to.”

  Nevis gritted his teeth. “I’ll go.”

  She crossed her arms, frowning. No doubt, Nevis didn’t appreciate being her babysitter. He was a colonel in the army, after all. But she didn’t care for this situation, either.

  A light rain began, and with a muttered curse, Nevis excused himself and went back to his cabin. Maeve followed more slowly, recalling how it had rained in her dream.

  Two hours later, the ship dropped anchor in the bay of the port town of Luna. The capital of the Isles of Moon and Mist, it was named after the larger of the two moons. The rain had stopped, so Maeve brought her bag up on deck. Luna looked much the same as the last time she’d seen the town. Queen Esther’s castle, named Lessa Castle after the smaller of the two moons, sat on a hill overlooking the port. The gray stone castle looked a bit dreary compared to the surrounding cottages, which were painted in shades of peach, shell pink, green, and blue.

  On the ship, sailors worked around her, stacking the crates she would take to the convent and the packages Nevis would present to the queen. They lowered the boats so they could row the packages ashore.

  Nevis met her on deck, looking much better now that he’d combed his hair, shaved, and put on his uniform. “All right, this is the plan.”

  She sighed. Instead of Luciana bossing her around, now Nevis was doing it.

  “After we go ashore, I’ll hire a wagon and take you and the crates to the convent,” Nevis explained. “Then, I’ll go to the castle to meet the queen. About midday, I’ll pick you up and bring you back here for the voyage to the Isle of Mist. I just have one question. Do you think the nuns would feed me lunch?”

  Maeve snorted. Nevis definitely had his priorities. “Yes, I’m sure they will.”

  “Excellent.” Nevis clapped his hands together. “I’ve already checked with Captain Shaw. He’ll be ready to sail this afternoon.” He turned to the sailors and told them to start unloading the packages.

  Using ropes and pulleys, the sailors lowered half of the packages into one rowboat and the other half into a second one.

  Maeve leaned over the railing to watch and grinned when a seal broke through the turquoise water and barked at her. Was it one of her seal friends? Or perhaps . . . “Brody, is that you?”

  “It’s just a seal,” Nevis muttered.

  “I have good reason to suppose it could be Brody,” Maeve insisted. “He sometimes takes the form of a seal.”

  Nevis shrugged. “I thought you said he was on the Isle of Mist.”

  True. Maeve smiled to herself. If her dream had been correct, she would see Brody this afternoon.

  * * *

  As Brody set the last rock on top of the pile of stones he’d laid on the Seer’s grave, another wave of grief crashed over him, doubling him up. It had started raining earlier, and he could no longer tell whether it was tears or raindrops that slid down his cheeks to splatter on the ground.

  The stones were gray. The sky was gray. They were as bleak and cold as the hard knot of pain lodged in his heart. The old man had been a father to him for fifteen years. Longer than the ten years he’d had with his real father. And his older brother.

  Brody’s mother was still alive, but she’d wept so much when he’d told her about the curse that it had ripped his heart to shreds. He’d realized then that he couldn’t live at home. He couldn’t subject his mother to the pain of seeing him trapped in the body of an animal day after day. So, he had sworn to her and himself that he would find the witch and undo the curse. Only then would he be able to return to his mother and sister.

  But he’d lived with the curse now for fifteen years. More than half of his life. For the last nine years, he’d hunted for that witch. And he’d failed.

  He was a human who couldn’t be human.

  He fell to his knees, then looked up at the heavens as more tears ran down his cheeks. “Why? What have I done to deserve this?”

  There was no answer. There never was.

  With a sigh, he wiped his face. Was this what the old man had seen in his third vision? He’d seen Brody by his grave, crying. A prick of guilt jabbed at him. Instead of mourning as he should, he was indulging in self-pity. Dammit.

  If the Seer was here, he would have slapped him back to his senses. Don’t waste your time, boy, lamenting the past, the old man would have told him. You can’t change what happened in the past, but you can change the future. So get off your ass and keep trying.

  Over the years, Brody had heard that advice over and over again. Was that what had happened to the old man? Had he taken his own advice so seriously that he’d tried the change the future?

  Brody leaned forward and rested a hand on one of the rocks on the Seer’s grave. It was cold and slick from the rain. “I won’t tell anyone.” I’ll never tell anyone that you were the first member of the Circle of Five, that you created that villainous ring of bastards.

  Another tear rolled down his cheek. “I never did enough for you, old man. Raising me was hard, I know.” At the age of ten, Brody had recovered physically from the disaster that had caused so much death and left him cursed, but mentally and emotionally, he’d been filled with anger and despair. And the only one available to lash out at was the Seer. But the old man had always treated him with love and patience.

  “You helped make me the man I am today.” Brody shoved his wet hair out of his face. “So, rest in peace. I’ll never tell what you did. I’ll protect your reputation. It’s the . . . only thing I can do for you now, old man.”

  He rose to his feet and carried the shovel back to the cottage. When the boat from Cahira arrived, he would board it disguised as the Seer. Then, once he was rid of Cahira and the Chameleon, the Circle would be completely gone. No one would ever know that the Seer had conspired with the others. He would be remembered simply as the kindly old man who had shared his visions with the world.

  So what should he do, Brody wondered, while he waited for that ship to arrive? Oh, he still needed to find that journal. Could he search for it in animal form? He’d used up most of his allotted time as a human in order to bury the Seer.

  He dashed into the cottage, stripped and shifted into his most comfortable animal form, the shaggy black-and-white dog. The cat hissed at him, but he ignored the tabby and dug around in the garden. No journal there. And it wasn’t inside the cottage. He’d checked that thoroughly the night before.

  Dammit, where would the Seer hide such a thing? The old man had never been the sort to hide anything. It had been Brody who had hidden himself when anyone came to the island.

  Was that what the Seer had meant? Brody’s hiding place? He hurried to the beach where he had landed the day before and trotted into the cave. After rooting around, he found nothing buried there. He eyed the trunk that held his spare clothing. Could it be that simple?

  He managed to open the trunk and dug through the clothes till he reached the bottom. And there, he found a leather-bound book. The journal! He grabbed it in his teeth and headed back to the cottage.

  As he crossed the highest point on the island, he paused to look around. There, to the south, was that a ship? It seemed to be headed straight for the Isle of Mist. Was it the ship Cahira had sent? Or perhaps it was the Seer’s mysterious daughter whom the old man had claimed was on her way.

  He ran into the cottage to drop the journal on his bed, then dashed out again, turning into a pelican. As he flew toward the ship, he noted the red-and-black flag flapping in the wind on the mainsail. An Eberoni ship? What was it doing here? He drew closer and noticed two familiar people at the bow. Maeve and Nevis? What the hell were they doing here? And damn, but she looked more beautiful than ever.

  The wind was whipping at her braid of long black hair, loosening tendrils that curled around her face. Her delicate black eyebrows always made a startling contrast to the pal
e creaminess of her skin. And the natural pink color of her lips.

  She was stunning. She’d always been stunning. Fortunately, he was usually in dog form, so no one questioned the amount of drool coming from his mouth.

  He dropped down lower and passed over the ship so he could hear them talking.

  “Look! There’s another one.” Maeve pointed at the ocean, where a shiny black seal had just surfaced.

  “It’s not Brody,” Nevis muttered. “How many times do I have to tell you that?”

  Maeve sighed. “I know. I’m just so terribly worried about him.”

  Worried? She was worried about him? Brody tipped to the side and landed clumsily on deck. He hopped out of the way when a sailor nearly kicked him, then flapped his wings to lift himself up onto the railing not far from Nevis and Maeve.

  “Seems to me that you’re more than worried,” Nevis mumbled. “Brody’s on your mind all the time.”

  Maeve blushed. “I just hope he’s on the Isle of Mist. Or, if he isn’t, that the Seer will be able to tell me where he is.”

  Brody waddled along the railing so he could get closer. Maeve had come all this way to look for him? Damn.

  “And I hope the Seer can tell us where the Embraced army is hiding,” Maeve added.

  Brody flinched and one of his webbed feet slipped. Splat. He hit the deck hard. Dammit to hell! What was Maeve doing? She shouldn’t be involved in this. It was too dangerous! She should be safe at Ebton Palace. Why the hell had Leo and Luciana let her come here?

  Apparently, his fall had made too much noise, for Maeve and Nevis spun around and spotted him. He folded his legs under him and squatted down as if it was something he did all the time. He slanted a wary glance their way to see if they were still looking at him.

  Maeve’s eyes narrowed. “Brody?”

  “Oh, for Light’s sake!” Nevis shouted as he clenched his fists. “Would you please stop calling every animal you see Brody?”

  Maeve shot him an annoyed look. “I have good reason to be suspicious. Brody has taken the form of a pelican before.”

  With a snort, Nevis motioned toward the pelican. “That’s the scroungiest-looking bird I’ve ever seen. Brody would never look that bad. And did you see its eyes? It obviously has the intelligence of a flea.”

  Brody aimed a glare at Nevis, then flapped his wings to take off.

  “I think you hurt his feelings.” Maeve’s voice could barely be heard as he flew toward the island.

  “It didn’t understand me!” Nevis yelled. “It’s a bloody bird!”

  Back in the cottage, Brody shifted into a dog. What should he do? He paced back and forth, considering his options. Soon, Maeve and Nevis would be taking a rowboat to the Isle of Mist. Should he meet them in human form? But which human—Brody or the Seer?

  If he met them as Brody, they would be happy to see him. He paused in his pacing to marvel once again that Maeve had been so worried about him, she’d come all this way in hopes of finding him.

  He’d always thought that she didn’t care for him. After all, she kept insulting him by calling him Julia.

  But he certainly cared about her. From the minute he’d first seen her, he’d known she was special. He’d known that she would grow up to be beautiful. And she had. He’d known that just the sound of her voice and laughter would attract men in droves. And it had. She had a long line of suitors at Ebton Palace.

  He hated it. He wanted to growl at all of them and chase them away. It was laughable. Pathetic. A dog who wanted the most beautiful woman in the world for himself?

  So he had decided to avoid her. Remain aloof. The only time he allowed himself to enjoy her company was once a month when he could disguise himself as a seal or river otter.

  He would need to disguise himself once again. This time, as the Seer. He could tell her that Brody was alive and well. And that, as the Seer, he had envisioned her future. She was supposed to go back to Ebton Palace, where she would be safe.

  His heart ached at the thought of deceiving her, but what else could he do? If she had any feelings for him, he had to put a stop to them. He didn’t know if he would ever get rid of this damned curse, and he could never ask her to share his accursed life. Maeve was too special, too sweet to be stuck with a man who could be a husband for only two hours a day.

  And there was another reason for his impersonating the Seer. He didn’t want to tell anyone that the Seer had died. If the news spread that the Seer was gone, then Cahira might not send that boat, and he’d lose his chance to capture one of the last members of the Circle of Five. He had to get rid of the Circle to protect the Seer’s reputation.

  But could he pull it off? He’d never masqueraded as another person before. Nevis was a close friend, and Maeve—well, she had guessed who he was while in pelican form. Would he be able to fool them both?

  Chapter 4

  Maeve scanned the beach as Nevis rowed their small boat toward the Isle of Mist. There was no one there. “I suppose we’ll have to wander about until we find the Seer’s house?”

  “Actually, he will find us.” Nevis glanced over his shoulder. “You see the bluff just above the beach? There’s a pole up there with a red flag.”

  She shaded her eyes with a hand so she could see through the glare of the afternoon sun. The wind had died down momentarily, so the red flag was hanging limply along the pole. “Oh, right. I see it.”

  “That’s how we knew which beach to come to. And I heard there’s a bell at the base of the pole. If we ring it, the Seer will come.”

  “How do you know all this?”

  Nevis exhaled as he heaved on the oars. “I asked around the docks at Luna and found the sailors who bring the Seer his supplies every month. They told me what to do.”

  “I see.” Maeve checked the basket on her lap, making sure the linen cloth was tucked in. Mother Ginessa and the sisters at the convent had helped her put together this last-minute gift for the Seer. Underneath the cloth, there was a loaf of freshly baked bread, a crock of strawberry jam, cheese, and a bottle of wine.

  The rowboat thudded to a stop when the bottom hit sand.

  “Careful.” Nevis reached for Maeve as she stood up.

  “I’m fine.” She gripped the basket handle with one hand and lifted the skirt of her cream-colored convent gown with the other. Stepping into the shallow bay, she winced as the cool water came up to her calves and seeped into her thin leather shoes. Quickly, she waded toward the shore, while Nevis jumped out and hauled the boat up onto the beach.

  “There.” She pointed to a path that wound up to the bluff.

  “I’ll carry the basket,” he offered, and she handed it to him.

  Her shoes made squishing noises with each step and were soon coated, inside and out, with sand. She glanced with envy at Nevis’s knee-high boots. Maybe she should take a lesson from her sister Sorcha and start dressing like a man. Climbing this steep path would certainly be easier without a long gown that was made heavier by its sodden hem.

  Halfway up, she paused to catch her breath.

  Nevis stopped beside her. “I hope we have better luck with the Seer than I did with the queen.”

  “Why? Did your meeting not go well?”

  “It didn’t go at all.” He shifted the basket from one hand to the other. “I took the gifts to the waiting room and requested a meeting. The secretary took the gifts inside, then came back to tell me that the queen was busy. I said I would wait, and so I did for over two hours. Finally, I had to leave because we had this trip already planned.”

  “I wonder why she’s reluctant to see you.”

  Nevis shrugged. “I thought she must be unfriendly, but then I learned at the docks that she’s the one paying for most of the Seer’s supplies.”

  Maeve nodded. “She was always very generous with the convent, too.”

  “Have you ever met her?”

  “No.” Maeve frowned. “Now that I think about it, I never heard of her ever leaving the castle. Even for celeb
rations.”

  Nevis grunted. “Maybe she’s old. Or sick.” He headed up the path. “Come on.”

  After a few more minutes of climbing, they reached the top of the bluff, then followed the worn path to the pole. Nevis set the basket down next to a wooden box that contained a large bell.

  “I guess this keeps the bell from clanging in the wind.” Nevis grabbed the bell, and it immediately made a loud clatter.

  Maeve touched his sleeve. “You can stop.” She motioned to where a man was standing across a grassy meadow on the summit of a low hill.

  He seemed to be watching them, although his face was not visible. The voluminous hood of his cloak had been pulled forward till only a narrow gash of black could be seen. A breeze caught the hem of his brown cloak and fluttered it around long legs encased in brown breeches.

  Was this really the Seer? Maeve had always heard that he was very old, but something about this man seemed young, healthy, and strong. Was it the way he was standing? His back was straight, his broad shoulders squared. With one hand, he gripped a long staff, but he didn’t appear to be leaning on it for support.

  But as quickly as she noticed these things, they disappeared. The man hunched over, and with a shaky arm, he planted the staff on the path in front of him, then shuffled slowly toward it. Staff, step, step. Staff, step, step.

  With a groan, Nevis set the bell back into the box. “At the speed he’s going, we’ll meet him in a week.”

  “Aye. The bread will have grown mold,” Maeve muttered, causing Nevis to snort.

  “Let’s go.” He handed her the basket, then strode across the meadow, calling out, “Greetings, Great Seer, we have come to—”

  “Why are you in such a hurry?” the Seer replied with a deep, grumbly voice. “Colonel Harden.”

  Nevis halted with a jerk. “You know who I am?”

  The old man shrugged his shoulders. “I am the Seer.” He continued his slow journey down the hillside. “You are Nevis, son of General Harden, best friend to King Leofric of Eberon.”

  Nevis gulped audibly, then whispered to Maeve, “By the Light, he’s good.”