Children of Poseidon: Rann

by Carr, Annalisa

  “Not yet.” The sprite pointed at the house. “She’s there. You can tell her.”

  Jewel leaned on the railings of the balcony that ran round the first floor of his house, talking to the older witch. Tamsin turned away and headed indoors. The rain stopped suddenly and the clouds parted, revealing blue sky and a shaft of sunlight that illuminated Jewel as she descended the stairs. A shock of awareness rippled through him. She wore one of the bikinis she’d bought in Dar es Salaam the last time her friend had visited. A tiny halter top barely covered her small breasts, and a turquoise sarong, wrapped round her hips, dipped low enough to reveal the gold and turquoise stud decorating her navel. Her long apricot-coloured hair was twisted up on top of her head, and a strand gleamed almost copper as the stray beam of light caught it. All the witches he’d met had shades of red in their hair, but Jewel’s was very subtle. Her eyes were lined with kohl, and the nails on her toes and fingers were painted a green that contrasted with the sarong.

  She was beautiful. Slender, small and delicate, but not a child any longer. She’d grown up. Time passed so quickly he had missed that. He waited at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Rann.” Nervousness shook her voice. She spoke in a rush. “I need to talk to you. I’ve been thinking. It’s time I left the island.”

  She often left. Visits to Zanzibar and, less frequently, to Dar es Salaam were common. Rann set the unresponsive seawitch on her feet, where she swayed before finding some sort of balance.

  Jewel’s eyes flicked sideways then narrowed as she focussed on the woman in the chains.

  “Who’s that?” She gestured with her chin.

  Rann shrugged. “Haven’t a clue.”

  “But . . .” Jewel stepped towards her, head tilted to one side.

  The witch wobbled. Rann steadied her with one hand.

  “Why’s she draped in chains?” Jewel looked more closely, narrowing her clear blue eyes. “That’s nullsilver.”

  She gave him an accusing stare, which he returned with a sense of annoyance. Surely Jewel doesn’t think I trussed her up like this?

  “My mother caught her. She asked me to take her away.” Rann studied his prisoner. The chains did look a bit over the top, and even he’d noticed they were quite heavy. “If you get me some nullsilver bracelets, I’ll take them off.”

  Jewel opened her mouth, but Rann cut off any protest she might have been about to make. “Please? The Cyclops thinks she’s dangerous.”

  Jewel shook her head, causing the tiny bells in her ears to chime, but she disappeared into the house. Everyone in his household knew how much power Cyclops wielded, so if she called the strange witch dangerous, none of his people would be willing to take risks round her. He picked his prisoner up again and carried her through a door, down a corridor, and into the inner courtyard, where he placed her on a stone bench. Taking a step back, he examined her carefully, trying to see some reason not to destroy her. No sign of life flickered in her dark eyes. She remained in the exact position he’d placed her in, like a doll or a statue. He raked both hands through his hair. He hoped he hadn’t been mistaken. It would be unpleasant to have to kill such a pathetic creature.

  Jewel returned, carrying a pair of the nullsilver bangles, which she handed to him. Rann fastened them round the wrists of the seawitch and unwound his mother’s chains.

  “I’m going to have to send these back,” he muttered as he placed them in a pile on the sun-warmed stone terrace.

  Jewel sat on the wall of the fishpond.

  “My mother thinks she’s a seawitch.” He nudged the pile of chains with the tip of his toe. “She thinks there’s something wrong with her and she’s polluted with dark magic.”

  Jewel’s head jerked round to inspect the immobile figure. “Dark magic?”

  “It’s not her own. Someone’s done this to her.”

  “A seawitch? Cursed? What are you going to do with her?” Jewel knew that Rann’s final duty to his people gave them a peaceful ending. Her eyes flew to meet his.

  “I don’t know. I thought she had some awareness when I brought her out of the sea, but it might have been the sun in her eyes.” He inspected Jewel. “You’re a witch. What do you think?”

  Jewel’s forehead wrinkled. “I’ve never met a seawitch. They’re supposed to be extinct. I think they’re different, though. As different as witches are from shapeshifters.” She glanced at the still figure again. “Maybe Tamsin might know something about them?”

  “We’ll ask her.” He shrugged and called to one of the seasprites. “Watch her.” He pointed at the seawitch. “Make sure she doesn’t leave.”

  The seasprite nodded. She climbed out of the fountain where she’d been making the most of the cool water and skipped over to sit on the bench next to the prisoner.

  Rann took Jewel’s hand and pulled her up from her perch on the stones round the pond. “What did you mean ‘time for you to leave the island’? For how long? Why?”

  He shook his head to clear the worry and tugged her over to one of the stone benches. He thought she’d been happy. She never caused him any problems. It didn’t make sense to him. She belonged to the island.

  Her eyes met his, but he couldn’t tell what she was thinking.

  Jewel tugged her hand away from Rann’s and tucked it in the folds of her sarong. Looking down at the stone under her bare feet, she thought about what to say. She took a deep breath, but her voice still trembled. “I’ve been here nine years. It’s time I moved on. I only meant to stay a year.” This was harder than she had expected. Rann had been so good to her. It wasn’t his fault that kindness no longer satisfied her.

  “Is it because of Tamsin?” Rann asked. “Has she said anything to you about moving? I’ve noticed she’s been restless. She’s a natural wanderer. You aren’t.”

  “No, it’s not Tamsin.” Jewel shook her head, filling the air with the tinkle of tiny bells. “I need to work out what I want to do with my life. It’s time, I think. And I don’t know if I’m a wanderer or not.”

  “You can stay here.” Rann took her hand again and stroked the back of it with his thumb. “It’s where you belong.”

  Jewel forced herself not to pull away again, but the small caress played havoc with her calm.

  “This is your home if you want it to be.”

  Fighting the weak urge to rest against him, she blinked sudden moisture from her eyes. Rann had always taken care of her; from the night she’d been cast out by her mother’s coven, he’d offered her sanctuary. He’d taken her in, found her a teacher, and let her make her home in his rambling house. He’d have done the same for a stray dog. Her heart swelled with a premature sense of loss. “I think I’m going to go back to London.”

  “Why?” He sounded genuinely puzzled. “It’s a horrible place. Cold, wet, and gray. And it’s got your mother in it.” Rann had met Kara once and been very unimpressed with her.

  Despite her distress, Jewel couldn’t keep from smiling. London did indeed have her mother in it. A major reason for staying away. Especially as her mother had never, not even once, tried to contact her.

  She didn’t care. Kara was a bitch. Jewel didn’t need her. She had her friends, like Maya and Tethani, Rann’s daughter. On the island, she enjoyed the company of the sea people and Rann. If she never saw her mother again, it wouldn’t bother her.

  “I have to go back.” She let out a heavy sigh. “Work out whether I still have a relationship with my mother. And with the coven. And whether I want one.” She needed to cut the links to her old home and move on. Regardless of her feelings for Rann, she had to do this. She had to see her mother one more time, face her fears, and if necessary, sever the ties that held her to London. Then she could get on with her life. “The time’s right.”

  “You’ll return here afterwards.” It wasn’t a question.


  “I don’t think so.” Jewel finally pulled her hand away again. “It really is time to move on. I have to find a place for myself. Somewhere I can be useful.” She looked up as a sudden breeze pulled strands from her hairstyle.

  Rann glowered down at her. The expression of confusion and anger didn’t belong on his relaxed, sensual features. “Have we made you feel less than useful here?”

  “No.” Her eyes flew to his.

  Bronze flared in the depths of the brown, and instead of the familiar warm seductiveness, something fierce and primeval stared back at her.

  This gimlet-eyed demigod was a stranger to her. Rann was no longer relaxed and laid-back. Words spilled out of her mouth. “You’ve been so kind. But I’ve taken so much from you. I have to stand on my own feet. I’ve been hiding here for too long.”

  “You’ve given back as much as you’ve taken.” The anger faded from Rann’s eyes.

  Jewel swallowed her relief. The rage of one of Poseidon’s sons caused storms, tidal waves, tremors in the seabed, and tsunamis if it was unleashed. She had never seen Rann unleash his anger, and she never wanted to.

  “My house is run efficiently, everything is well ordered.” He paused. “That didn’t use to be the case. Ask any of my half-brothers.”

  Jewel forced a smile. “I know order isn’t important to you. But it gave me something to do. You didn’t seem to mind.”

  “Jewel?” Rann twisted in his seat and placed a hand on the side of her face, long fingers cupping her cheek.

  She allowed herself to relax into the warmth.

  “If there’s anything that’s made you feel you can’t stay here, you would tell me, wouldn’t you?” Warm brown eyes probed her face.

  A sick feeling of guilt made her swallow and pull away from his hand. “You view me as a child.” She forced her voice to remain steady and rational. “I’ve got to grow up. I don’t want to stay an object of pity.”

  Rann let out an impatient sigh. “Sympathy is not pity. And you are barely out of adolescence. To me you are little more than a child.” He sounded impatient and a little annoyed. “I want to take care of you.”

  “You want to take care of everyone. I can look after myself. I’m not a child anymore.” Jewel’s voice shook, and suppressed rage made her body tremble. She knew Rann had never viewed her as a woman, but it still hurt to hear him say it.

  Rann took a deep breath. “This is your home.”

  The frustration in his voice rippled through her. It was obvious he couldn’t understand why she had to leave.

  “You can always come back here.” He rose to his feet then bent down and kissed her forehead. “We won’t talk about it any longer. It upsets you. Tomorrow we’ll talk again.”

  He straightened and walked towards his prisoner. Jewel watched him go, feeling sick as the rage drained away.

  He’d kissed her on the forehead. He really did view her as a child. If she hadn’t been so grateful to him for all his kindnesses, she might have slapped him or told him she hated him, said the sort of things she’d come out with as a teenager—the sort of careless speech that caused her to be banished from her coven in the first place.

  He bent and pulled the seawitch to her feet before guiding her through one of the doors in the wall of the courtyard. It didn’t matter who she was or what she might have done; Rann would look after her. Jewel dug her nails into the palms of her hands. Perhaps I should tell him how I feel. If he questions me again tomorrow, I will. Breathing slowly and deeply, she focussed on the water playing in the fountain until Moni came back and ran over to her.

  “The Sealord forgot to tell you. Your Maya friend is on the way. She will arrive tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Jewel forced herself to concentrate on the practicalities. She didn’t think she expected a visit from Maya. There had been no communication, no discussion of a visit.

  Has something happened? It will be nice to see her, though. Maya might have some ideas about where I can fit in.

  Maya kept in close touch with a circle of young witches from many of the communes. She might even know someone who knew something about seawitches.

  Chapter 4

  “Jewel!” Maya burst through the doors onto the terrace just before dinner, while Jewel bustled round helping the seasprites set food on the table. “I’ve got to talk to you.”

  “Hi, Maya.” Jewel set a platter of colourful salads on the table and braced herself as Maya hugged her. “Lovely to see you. Did you send a message?”

  “No, no. There wasn’t time.” Maya radiated vitality, despite the fact that she’d been travelling for a couple of days. “I thought by the time a message arrived I could be here myself.”

  “Good timing. Dinner’s almost ready.”

  Maya glanced at the table and down at her crumpled sundress. “I’d better shower.”

  She disappeared back through the door and into the house.

  Jewel shrugged. Whatever she wants to talk about can’t be that important.

  Maya’s head peered round the door. “I’ve got important news.” She disappeared again.

  “We’ll talk later.” Jewel shouted after her. “I want some advice.”

  “So do I.” Maya appeared again, smiled widely as though she didn’t have a care in the world, and retreated into the house.

  She returned as the seasprites served the evening meal. Dressed in a short gold dress and gold sandals that lifted her height to over six feet, she dominated the gathering. Her flaming hair fell in curls to the small of her back, and she glittered in the light of the candles that were set round the courtyard. Heros and Terrin, the male sirens, stared at her in awe. She smirked at Jewel as she took the seat next to her.

  Rann came out a moment later, apologising for his lateness and explaining that he had a guest who needed care.

  Jewel’s eyes flew to him. He had to be talking about the silent seawitch. He wore loose cream trousers and a floaty white shirt that exposed the golden brown column of his throat. Glancing round the table, he took the empty seat next to Maya. The two male sirens sat together on the other side of the table. Tethani, Tamsin, and two of the seasprites were the only others present. This was a small gathering. Jewel had shared the table with more than twenty people on occasion, as Rann liked to be hospitable. All his people were welcome in his home.

  Food was piled in bowls for people to help themselves—Jewel’s idea—as otherwise someone had to go in and out of the kitchen to fetch things.

  Rann bent towards Maya and kissed her cheek. “Know anything about seawitches?” he asked. He stretched across the table and ladled some of the soup into his bowl.

  Maya sat back, narrowing her kohl-lined eyes at him. “No. Why do you ask?”

  “Because I’ve got one upstairs.”

  “I thought they’d died out.” Maya stirred her soup, then raised the spoon to her lips. “Why don’t you ask her?”

  “Can’t.” Rann shook his head. “She’s catatonic.”

  Maya carried on eating. If she wondered why Rann kept a catatonic seawitch in his attic, she kept quiet about it.

  “Can you see if she’ll eat?” Rann asked Moni. “When you’ve finished. Try her with some wine.” The seasprite nodded.

  “Who is she?” Maya looked up at last.

  “I haven’t a clue.” Rann raised his shoulders in a gesture of incomprehension. “She wandered into my mother’s territory, shedding death magic as she went.”

  Maya’s amber eyes widened.

  “My mother wrapped her in nullsilver and sent for me.”

  “What are you going to do with her?” Maya’s voice dropped; she knew perfectly well where Rann’s duty lay.

  Jewel listened carefully. The fact that Cyclops hadn’t killed the seawitch was strange in itself. Rann’s mother
was a deep-ocean cyclops, different from the classical type in many ways, but just as dangerous; she was the most primitive creature Jewel had ever met. She appeared to operate purely on instinct.

  “I don’t know.” Rann picked up his glass and stared at the contents. “Sleep on it? See if there’s any change in her tomorrow. Talk to a few people. She’s wearing nullsilver bracelets, so she shouldn’t be dangerous.”

  “She looked sick,” Jewel said.

  Rann propped his elbows on the table. “I told you my mother thought someone had forced the death magic into her. Probably not a healthy situation for her.”

  “I don’t know much about death magic either.” Maya pursed her lips. “It’s not something we learn about. It’s forbidden to the covens.” Her voice faded for a second. “It’s a death sentence if you’re caught using it.”

  Moni pushed her plate away and stood up. She picked up one of the bowls of soup and a bottle of wine. “I’ll see if I can persuade her to eat, Sealord.”

  Silence settled over the table as everyone contemplated Maya’s words. Jewel wondered if Rann would take the same view as the covens. There were huge taboos round some types of magic. Dark magic, blood magic, and especially death magic usually meant an automatic death sentence for the practitioner. It did seem that this seawitch hadn’t been using death magic, rather it had been using her, but Jewel didn’t know for sure. Tamsin had never mentioned the forbidden rites to her; she probably thought she’d been taught all she needed to know in her London years. She glanced at her teacher, who had kept silent throughout the meal. She’d not said much since her involuntary vision a couple of days ago. Tamsin stared down at her plate. She barely touched her food.