Daughters of the Sea

by HR Mason

Breathless, Runa slammed her bedroom door shut with a thud. She ran to the bathroom sink and splashed cold water on her face. Patting it dry with a fluffy towel, she tried to gain command of her runaway thoughts.

  “What just happened?” she whispered into the silence of the room.

  Runa was scared out of her wits just thinking about the strange encounter at the entrance to the third floor. She’d undoubtedly heard footsteps traveling up and down, each stair creaking beneath the weight of some ghostly apparition. She’d certainly heard the woman’s voice, as well as the strange phrase, the same one she’d heard several times. Maisie’s reaction and warning to stay away made the hairs on her neck tingle.

  Even as Runa’s chest constricted and her heart ran laps inside, she knew she would eventually return to the third floor. There were secrets to be discovered, and nothing, neither her fear nor the warnings of the dour maid, could keep her away.

  As she glanced at her shaking hands, the strange blue light flickered from her fingertips. She blinked twice, trying to make it disappear.

  Holding her hands in front of the mirror, she looked closely. There was no denying the fact that her hands were glowing. She wiggled her fingers in front of her face, feeling a strange crackling electricity in the room. It wasn’t the first time she’d experienced the phenomenon, and it was becoming harder to ignore.

  “Runa, darling, I’m home,” Chase called from the other room.

  Glancing in the mirror, she pinched her cheeks to put some color back into her pale complexion. Dabbing her eyes, she convinced herself her inner turmoil didn’t show on her face and went out to meet her husband.

  “I’m glad you’re home,” she greeted him.

  Runa rose on her tiptoes and brushed her lips across Chase’s cheek in a welcoming kiss. She was about to pull away when he wrapped his arms around her tightly, crushing her body against his. Pushing her apprehension aside, she melted into him as he stroked her hair and deepened the kiss. He had a way of making her forget everything except how much she loved him.

  “I’m glad to be home.” Chase chuckled once they came up for air.

  “That was nice.” She swallowed hard, her body on fire. “It’s been a while.”

  “It’s been far too long, and I intend to rectify that very soon.” He gave her a wink and clasped her hand inside his. “But for now, how about a walk?”

  “A walk sounds great,” Runa agreed, her mind racing ahead, thinking of what was to come.

  Chase led her from their suite, down the stairs, and out the front door. It was a lovely evening, and the weather was unseasonably mild. The sun was about to set, yet it was warm enough to render jackets unnecessary.

  The couple strolled across the front lawn hand in hand, taking in the surrounding beauty. They walked toward the edge of the yard, following the roar of the ocean. Gazing down the cliff, Runa smiled as she watched the mammoth waves crash against the rocks below. Sea spray floated on the breeze, tickling her nose and collecting in a fine mist upon her hair.

  Closing her eyes, she reveled in the sound and smell of the ocean. She’d always felt a spiritual connection to the water, almost as if they belonged to each other. She’d often had dreams of herself commanding the waves and interpreting the wind. The dreams had become even more vivid since arriving at Everwine Manor. Of course, she realized how ridiculous that was, and she’d never told anyone. But it was an interesting thought to entertain.

  “What are you thinking about, darling?” Chase squeezed her hand, interrupting her thoughts.

  “Crazy, nonsensical things.” She laughed. “Nothing important.”

  “Tell me,” he persuaded. “Please? I love hearing what goes on in that pretty head of yours.”

  “You’ll think I’ve lost my mind.”

  “Give me a try. You know you can trust me.”

  “Well, I was thinking about water. I’ve always felt a connection, even when I didn’t live anywhere near it,” she began.

  “How so?”

  “When I was younger, my favorite place to be was in a swimming pool or bathtub.”

  “Wow, you’re taking me way back, aren’t you?” Chase smiled.

  “I remember the first time my mother brought me to the ocean. I was only five years old, but the memory is so vivid. The minute I saw the waves, I felt this intense rush inside me. I broke free of my mother’s hand and ran as fast as I could into the surf. It was like I could hear the water speaking, telling me its secrets. My mother didn’t stop me. She seemed to know I felt something. I remember her satisfied smile as I lifted my hands and tried to gather the sea mist in my fists.”

  “Go on,” Chase encouraged.

  “As I grew older, I had these intense dreams where I could control the water and the wind. I even tried to do it once.”

  “Do what?”

  “Control the water.”

  “How did that go?”

  “Well, it worked, actually. Or at least I thought it did at the time. Looking back now, I’m sure it was all just one big coincidence. I mean, a person can’t really do that.” Runa chuckled.

  “And… uh… you only tried it once?”

  Chase cleared his throat and swallowed hard. His face had grown quite pale, and beads of sweat pooled on his upper lip. He appeared to be bothered by her story. For a moment, he almost looked as if he was afraid of her.

  “Yes, I only tried it once. I was a kid. It was a silly fantasy.”

  “A silly fantasy,” he repeated.

  Runa placed her hand on Chase’s arm, and when she did, she noticed the blue light flickering beneath it again. Shoving her hands inside her pockets, she tried to decipher his strange reaction to her story.

  “Are you okay, Chase?”

  “Yes, of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?” He smiled, planting a kiss on her forehead.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “Shall we continue our walk?”

  Runa nodded and fell into step beside her husband.

  She glanced up at Everwine Manor. Watching the sun set behind the pitched roof made her think of her earlier discovery. She decided to ask Chase about it.

  “I’m curious about something,” she started. “What’s on the third floor?”

  “The third floor? Why in the world would you want to know that?”

  Runa detected agitation in her husband’s voice.

  “No reason, Chase. I just wondered.”

  “That seems like a strange thing to wonder, don’t you think?”

  “Not really. I mean, I live here now, so it’s only natural for me to be curious about my new home.”

  “I suppose so.”

  “So what’s up there? I assume you’ve been on the third floor.”

  “Of course I have,” Chase replied. “But it’s been years.”

  “What’s it like?”

  He stopped walking and ran his hands through his hair, a gesture that signaled his frustration. Taking a deep breath, he stretched his neck from side to side, a look of tension upon his face. Runa was convinced he wasn’t going to answer her question, but after several moments, he finally spoke.

  “I used to play up there when I was a child. I would ride my tricycle up and down the halls. It’s huge, larger than you can imagine. There are rows and rows of rooms. The staff used to live up there, but they haven’t for years.”

  “Really? Why is that?”

  “It’s not safe.”

  Runa realized that Maisie had said the exact same words. She knew she should drop the subject, but something forced her to continue.

  “What’s not safe about it?”

  “The flooring needs to be fixed. The whole thing needs to be renovated.”

  “So why hasn’t that been done?” she pushed, desperate for answers.

  He narrowed his eyes at her. “Why the sudden curiosity about the third floor, Runa?”

  “I’m a naturally curious person, I suppose.”

  She laughed in an attempt to lighten the suddenly tense
mood.

  Taking a deep breath, Chase looked her in the eyes. “A house of this size is tremendously expensive to maintain. Something always needs to be done. The only way to remain afloat is to prioritize. Fixing the third floor, which serves no purpose, has not been a priority.”

  “I see. I suppose that makes sense.”

  “Why wouldn’t it make sense?” he snapped.

  “Why are you lashing out at me, Chase? It was a simple question.”

  “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He sighed heavily and forced a smile. “You have every right to ask questions. I suppose I’m just tired.”

  “Perhaps we should go inside, then,” Runa suggested, not wanting to spoil their rare time together.

  “Yes, we should. I have plans to occupy your thoughts for the rest of the evening.” He grinned mischievously.

  Arm in arm, the two walked back across the lawn toward the main entrance to Everwine Manor. Glancing up at the roof, Runa spied the turret at the top of the immense tower. Circular in shape, the entire structure was encased in intricately designed stained glass windows. She’d always thought they were lovely, but at that moment, something seemed off.

  Just as they were about to slip inside the front door, Runa thought she detected a faint light and swift movement behind one of the windows in the turret, but she couldn’t be certain. The vivid colors and designs of the windows made it difficult to see if someone was behind them.

  A shiver trailed down her spine. She felt like she was being watched. Not wanting to get into another tense conversation with Chase, she told herself it was just her imagination and went inside.

  She and Chase spent the next couple of hours catching up on lost time. They were hungry for one another, their bodies conveying the love inside their hearts. When she finally collapsed onto her pillow and drifted off to sleep, the dreams began and continued on a loop throughout the night. She dreamed of a woman locked in a tower of stained glass windows.

  The prisoner was desperate to escape, but no matter how hard she tried, freedom was beyond her grasp. The woman picked up a small silver mirror and gazed at her reflection. Blue light arced off her hands into the glass, and when the woman looked in the mirror, Runa saw her own face.

  Twenty-Eight

  Departure Cove, Oregon, 1902

  “Mrs. Calais? Won’t you please open up?”

  The desperate maid rapped on the door of Brynja’s suite of rooms.

  “Go away!” Brynja yelled.

  “But, Mrs. Calais, you haven’t eaten in two days,” the maid pleaded.

  “I’m not hungry,” Brynja mumbled into her pillow.

  “Ma’am, your daughter is asking for you. Miss Ingrid wants her mother,” the servant said softly.

  Her daughter’s name was the thing that finally caught Brynja’s attention. She’d locked herself in her room two days ago without a thought to anything other than the searing pain that ripped her heart in two. The maid’s mention of her daughter reminded Brynja that she was a mother. Ingrid was young, and she needed her. The girl was all she had left of her beloved Thomas, after all.

  When the messenger sent word to Angelica House saying Thomas’s ship had gone down in an unexpected storm, Brynja had screamed, wailing so loudly that she’d eventually lost her voice. She’d curled herself into a ball on the floor of the sitting room, sobbing for hours.

  Finally, exhaustion took over and she couldn’t move. A servant eventually carried her upstairs to her room, where she’d been ever since. Selfishly, she realized, she hadn’t given a second’s thought to her child. The vast expanse of her own grief had taken over.

  “Of course my daughter needs me,” Brynja replied as she wiped her face and rose from her bed.

  Padding softly across the room, she opened the door. Mrs. Stevens, the maid, gasped when she saw her mistress’s face. Her cheeks were hollow, her eyes sunken. Dark circles outlined Brynja’s lovely blue eyes, and her flaxen hair was matted to her face and knotted in several places.

  “Oh, my poor dear,” the servant gasped. “Let’s get you cleaned up. You can’t see Miss Ingrid looking like this.”

  Nodding numbly, she allowed Mrs. Stevens to lead her to her dressing table, where the maid set about making her mistress presentable. Brynja could barely form a coherent thought, and tears streamed down her face. All she could think of was her beloved Thomas and how she would never see him again.

  If only he had listened. If only she had lied to him and told him she’d foreseen his death with certainty. If she could go back, she would lie to him a thousand times if it meant she could keep him alive.

  When Mrs. Stevens had done all she could, she helped Brynja to her feet and led her into the adjoining sitting room where Ingrid was playing with her nanny. When the little girl spied her mother, she clapped her hands, ran to Brynja, and hugged her knees.

  “Mama! Mama!”

  Ingrid’s voice cut through the fog inside her mother’s brain, and Brynja knelt down and wrapped her arms tightly around the girl. She inhaled her sweet scent and muttered a prayer of thanks that at least she still had her. Ingrid was now her sole reason for existing.

  Settling into the armchair, she watched as Ingrid jumped onto her rocking horse. The little girl was soon lost in her world of make-believe, where the bad things couldn’t survive.

  How Brynja wished she could go there.

  Steeling herself for the answer, she asked, “Mrs. Stevens, what is the latest news? Have they found Thomas’s body?”

  “No, ma’am. They haven’t. And it’s unlikely they will. That storm came out of nowhere, they say, and the ship and crew were lost.”

  “What do you mean, the storm came out of nowhere?”

  “Well, ma’am, folks are saying that it was… well… almost… supernatural,” Mrs. Stevens replied shakily.

  “A supernatural storm sank my husband’s ship. That’s what you’re saying?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Brynja puzzled over the words in her mind. She’d always had such clear visions, and water was tied to her gifts. She and the ocean were one and the same. How had she not foreseen the danger to Thomas on the water? Why had she been unable to find the storm and calm it? Had her deep love for Thomas weakened her power? Had it made her blind? That had to be the answer. She was too focused on her own happiness and not properly attuned to her gifts.

  “Is there anything else? Any other news, Mrs. Stevens?”

  “Er… well… I don’t think it’s anything you need to hear,” the maid sputtered.

  “If there’s news, I need to hear it,” Brynja insisted.

  “Very well, ma’am. Let me just say that anyone who knows you knows it’s just a lot of nonsense, but the folks in town are saying things.”

  “What sort of things?”

  “It’s ridiculous, I’m telling you,” Mrs. Stevens continued, “but they’re saying you caused the storm.”

  “Me? Why on earth would I cause a storm to kill my own husband?”

  Anger boiled inside of Brynja, and she sprang from her chair and paced back and forth across the room.

  “That’s why I said it’s ridiculous, ma’am. It’s not true. But people are saying it all the same. They say you’re a witch and you conjured up a storm to kill Thomas so you could have all his money,” Mrs. Stevens explained in a rush.

  Brynja gasped. “Who would start such a rumor?”

  “I don’t know, ma’am. You know how tongues wag. You’re an intelligent woman, and your skills with plants and herbs have always made folks talk. The things you’re able to grow here, in this climate, well, it makes people suspicious.”

  “That’s absurd,” Brynja insisted.

  “Of course it is, ma’am. Folks in this town have small minds,” the maid said with a click of her tongue.

  Brynja’s head spun with a thousand questions. How could anyone think she would harm Thomas? She’d rather harm herself. She would die a thousand deaths if it meant she could keep Thomas alive. First, she
’d lost her parents, then her twin, and now her husband. The sacrifice was too high. What good were her powers if they couldn’t protect those she loved?

  She glanced across the room and watched as Ingrid giggled and rode her rocking horse. All that mattered now was protecting her daughter. But how could she make a home in this place for Ingrid? Without Thomas, Brynja had no hope of ever becoming a true part of the community. She would always be on the outskirts, the fringes, living in the shadows. Especially now, when they thought she had conjured up the very storm that stole him away.

  The room began to spin, and Brynja’s head pounded. Her knees grew shaky, and before she knew what was happening, she collapsed, hitting the floor with a thud.

  Twenty-Nine

  Runa cleaned the glass display case in her boutique, a tedious task designed to keep her runaway mind in check. For the past few days, she’d had a difficult time quieting the voices in her head, the ones screaming that something was wrong. Her vivid dreams prevented her from resting, and she was exhausted. The doppelgänger woman seemed to whisper to her, even in the light of day.

  She couldn’t shake the fact that living at Everwine Manor had unearthed something deep inside, a sense of unrest, the feeling that she needed to find something, although she had no clue what that might be. Still, the agitation lingered, gaining in intensity as one day bled into the next.

  Frustrated, Runa peered into her latte, as if the drink could somehow answer her questions. She took a sip and frowned, realizing the coffee had grown cold. As the thought entered her mind, a strange compulsion followed. Not understanding why, she fixed her gaze on the liquid and imagined it warming. Suddenly, small bubbles rolled in the mug, and steam floated from the surface.

  Gasping, she grabbed the coffee and took a quick sip, wincing in pain as the latte burned her lips. Sputtering, she spit the coffee back into the mug before slamming it on the counter, splashes sloshing over the edge and puddling at the base of the mug.

  “What? How?” Runa stammered.

  “Did you say something, Runa?” Emily called from across the room.