Lycan Tides: Guardians of Light, Book 3

by Renee Wildes

  She had a headache. Must remember that. Just as she was about to open the book, a more authoritative knock hit the door. Anuk shoved the book under her pillow and tried to look pitiful. “Enter.”

  Spiridon entered, undeterred by the lock. “I heard you felt poorly enough to cancel dinner.”

  “I didn’t cancel it. I’m just dining in my rooms tonight.”

  “Aye—a headache was mentioned. Rather poor timing for our guests.”

  “Feel free to entertain them yourself,” Anuk stated.

  “I am certain to be somewhat less—entertaining—than you would have been. Nay, I have cancelled dinner altogether. I shall dine in my rooms as well. A quiet evening at home, after a profitable day, can be its own reward.”

  Anuk thought of his meeting with Matteo. “A profitable day, you say? Do tell. Was it very interesting?”

  “Naught to trouble your aching head about, my dear. Rest. Drink your tea. I’m sure you’ll feel better in the morn.” Spiridon strode out.

  More secrets. Anuk seethed. Why was he so insistent on keeping his meeting with Matteo hidden from her? That made no sense. As his partner, she should be kept apprised of his dealings. If she hadn’t taken to spying on him, who knew what else she’d not be knowing?

  She pulled out the book and opened it. Why now? The book had been on the library shelf, of this house or previous ones, her entire life. What had prompted her curiosity now, after all these years? She was no history lover.

  “When the student is ready, the teacher appears,” the book whispered in her mind.

  That was uncanny. Anuk shivered. Was the book magic? Then why was it in the library and not Spiridon’s workroom?

  The book laughed. Laughed! “The magic of queens is not meant for a mere male, daughter of queens.”

  Daughter of…what? It must be mistaking her for someone else.

  “The blood does not lie, daughter of queens,” the book insisted. “Who was your mother?”

  Now that question made her head ache for real. Her father had never told her her own mother’s name. He’d merely referred to “her” in a tone of longing and loathing.

  “Who was your mother, child?” the book asked again.

  “I don’t know!” she cried. “Why do you ask? What does it matter?”

  Why was she talking to a book?

  “The blood does not lie, daughter of queens, She Khan Androcles. Your mother was of my line.”

  “Are you saying you’re my ancestor?” This went beyond weird. Her heart pounded.

  “The blood does not lie. How can you not know the name of your mother? The power passes from mother to daughter.”

  “What power? I have no power! Father told me she died afore I was born, he never speaks of her. It’s too painful for him. He loved her very much.”

  “Who told you you have no power?”

  Anuk winced as the book’s angry tone stabbed through her mind like shards of obsidian. “I’m only a female. Only males may become great sorcerers. My father told me so.”

  “Oh, really?” Grim amusement. “Open me, and behold the truth, daughter of my daughters’ daughters.”

  More afraid and intrigued than she had ever been in her life, Anuk moved the lamp closer and turned the first page.

  Chapter Nine

  “The daughter? In the market?” Trystan’s gaze burned into Finora’s. “Are ye certain?”

  She nodded. “I’d have to say aye. Surrounded by a great herd of men, only one of which belonged in the actual smithy. Kale. ’Twas like they were moonstruck.”

  Mari’s eyes were serious. “I’ve heard they’re witches. Why I never go near the manor house. Wonder what she was doing out and about? They usually send servants to the market.”

  Tess brought their food and drinks. “I heard Mick and Kale were invited to dinner up at the big house. Only other one I’ve heard tell of going afore this is Cap’n Reed. Mayhaps they’re getting more friendly with the folk around here. ’Bout time, too.”

  Trystan stiffened. Finora sensed something grim pass betwixt him and Niadh.

  “What’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Naught.” Later, his eyes said. He made a show of sniffing his bowl of chowder. “What is this?”

  Braeca giggled. “Chowder. A kind of soup.” She picked up her spoon and took a big bite. “Mmm…”

  He frowned. “What are these little green things?”

  Finora’s lips twitched. “It’s mostly potatoes, corn, and celery, with a milk base. The green things are leeks—a type of onion—and various herbs for flavor. The little pink things are clam meat. A type of seafood.” She indicated Ioain, who was practically inhaling his bowlful. “He hates fish, but he loves this stuff. Try it.”

  Niadh gave it an experimental lick.

  Trystan took a bite, swallowed, then crossed his eyes and clutched his throat.

  “Very funny,” Finora muttered.

  Mari gathered up the book. “I have to get back home. If I find anything else out, Trystan, I’ll let you know.”

  “So what did you learn in school today?” Finora asked Braeca.

  “We started sub-trac-ting,” Braeca said. “It’s adding backward—take away numbers from bigger ones to get smaller ones.”

  “Like…if I have a full glass o’ cider, an’ I take three big gulps,” Trystan demonstrated, “then I have half a glass o’ cider.”

  “What did you do all day?” Braeca asked.

  “Washed clothes,” Finora answered.

  Braeca made a face.

  “There was somefing scawy in the wato when we came here,” Ioain said. “We walked past it weal fast.”

  Trystan shot Finora a sharp glance.

  “Something was watching us from the harbor,” she admitted. “It felt hostile, angry. But it stayed there. If it could have left the water, it would have. We’re safe enough on land. ’Twas odd, though. I’ve been here seven years and I’ve never felt anything like it until now. Why wait until now?” She took a deep breath. Wood smoke, pipe smoke, apple cider and chowder. All the familiar scents of home. She almost forgot what life in the harem was like. She almost felt more at home here, in The Mermaid, than she’d ever felt in her sire’s pod.

  Almost.

  Save for the siren call of the sea itself, her yearning to play with Bree and her sisters once more. How long it had been since she’d played tag with a dolphin. She missed the behemoth concerts. The mystical sounds rang out for miles when they sang, the enormous air-breathing fish. Some men hunted them with sharp metal hooks called harpoons for their meat and their oil. She knew what it was to need to hunt to live, but somehow their deaths were different than eating the smaller fishes. They were so majestic and grand, she felt a loss when one was dragged from the water. As if part of her very soul shriveled and died.

  What was it that had stalked her from just beyond the shallows?

  “I’m sure it’s naught to worry about—just someone playing a mean trick on us,” she stated.

  Mick and Kale came in, dressed in their very best church-going finery, with big scowls on their faces.

  “What’s the matter with ye two?” Trystan called.

  “We were invited t’ dine at the big house,” Mick growled. “But then were turned away at the door.”

  “Lady Anuk was feelin’ poorly,” Kale added. “So here we be. Tess, a whiskey an’ ale.”

  Finora noticed Captain Reed frowning at the two men. “What’s his problem?”

  “Do ye notice anything…different…about Reed?” Trystan asked her. “Anything at all?”

  She shook her head, and was surprised to see Ioain set down his glass and nod.

  “He’s wike that inside.” The little boy pointed to the peat fire in the near hearth, which glowed with glints of red flame between the layers of moss.

  Finora blinked. He was more perceptive than she’d thought.

  “What about Mick an’ Kale?” Trystan pressed.

  Ioain shook his head. “Not wik
e Weed. Just peepo.”

  “They had t’ have done sommat t’ Reed,” Trystan told Finora. “He wasna like that afore. E’en Ioain can sense his change. I have t’ find out if they’re what I seek.”

  “But they sound dangerous,” she protested. “Changing people? Why?”

  “I dinna ken. But I need answers t’ take home t’ me people. I’ve been gone long enough.”

  Finora caught the wistful tone in his voice, and saw Ioain’s lower lip stick out and begin to tremble. “Ioain, what’s wrong?”

  “I don’ want you to go ’way!” Ioain glared at Trystan.

  Finora cringed inside.

  Trystan smiled and shook his head at her. “Ne’er criticize any for speakin’ their mind. Best t’ be honest, always.” He turned to Ioain. “I’ll miss ye as weel, laddie. But I must be gettin’ home. Me sister’s havin’ a wee bairn soon, an’ I need to be seein’ me family. I miss them and me mountains and forests.”

  “Can I come visit you?”

  “Someday, when ye’re a great big grown mon an’ I’m a bent-o’er oldster, why no’? The Clans’d welcome ye.”

  “What’s a bairn?” Braeca asked.

  “A baby, poppet,” Finora replied.

  Ioain’s eyes grew very round. “Twystan’s gonna haf a baby?”

  Braeca gave him a disdainful look down her nose. “No, silly. Trystan’s sister is having a baby. Trystan’s gonna be an uncle. Only girls can have babies.”

  “How come?”

  Finora choked on her cider. Trystan’s eyes twinkled at her.

  “’Cause.” Braeca’s tone was superior…and final.

  “Not fair!” Ioain protested.

  The door opened to let in Palo, a very pregnant Bella and their three children. Braeca jumped up to greet her best friend Mia with a hug. Bella waddled over to their table. “I’m so glad I found you here an’ didn’t have to climb that awful hill!” she puffed.

  “Like you’re climbin’ any hills in your condition, woman!” Palo chided.

  “What’s wrong?” Finora asked.

  “Naught,” Bella assured her. “I was just wondering if your littles could spend the night with mine. We made some new puppets for them to play with.”

  “Please, Mama?” Braeca begged. “No school tomorrow.”

  “Pwease?” Ioain echoed. “I wuv puppets!”

  Finora raised her eyebrows. “Are you sure you’re up for five?”

  Bella waved that off with a laugh. “Midwife says I’ve got another month to go.”

  “How many babies you got in there?” Finora teased.

  “Just the one. Honest, I’m fine. Palo will be with them the whole time.”

  “Please?” Mia added to the begging.

  “Very well.” Finora turned to Palo. “You bring them home straightaway if they’re too much.”

  “You can help Dag find eggs in the henhouse,” Palo told Ioain.

  Ioain’s eyes lit up. “Yay!”

  “An’ I can show you how to milk a goat,” Mia told Braeca. “I just learned. It’s not hard.”

  “It’s squishy!” her brother Dag teased.

  “Eew! Ma!” Braeca protested.

  Finora laughed. “Go on, then. Have fun.”

  “I’ll bring them by after lunch,” Palo promised. He waited for Ioain and Braeca to grab their coats, and then they all left together. The noise level dropped with their departure.

  Finora smiled at Trystan. “Braeca and Mia go to school together. Palo and Bella live on a farm up in the hills. The children love going there.”

  “’Tis good for wee ones t’ enjoy different things,” he said. “The more things they try, quicker they find what they’re interested in an’ good at.” He motioned for her to sit again, then joined her at their table.

  She nodded. “I’m glad Mari and Bella step in. Sometimes I worry that they’re too isolated up at the Light.”

  “They’re fine,” Trystan assured her. “They’re like any other wee ones their age. Trust me.”

  “So, what’s happened to Reed?” Finora asked under her breath.

  Trystan leaned forward and took her hand. “He’s spirit-touched, bound t’ another. ’Tis almost like a guardian binding, like what I have with Niadh since he’s the one who converted me. Teacher-student, partners. ’Tis heart an’ mind an’ spirit. What Reed has, ’tis similar but different. Darker, twisted. Niadh an’ I are aware o’ each other at all times, but Reed’s binding ’tis one way. Someone sees through his eyes, hears with his ears, but he’s unaware of it.”

  “So guardians are made, not born?”

  “Aye. If we’re needed—war or some such, those already changed move t’ swell our ranks. Biting a warrior under the full moon works t’ create a shifter. I was meant t’ be a badger, but I found Niadh in a foot trap. When I tried t’ free him, we tangled an’ he bit me, turnin’ me t’ wolf instead. Why I alone have badger-grey hair among the Wolf Clan, an’ I travel betwixt Badger an’ Wolf Clans.”

  “So your hair turned grey when you were turned?”

  He nodded. “Aye. Hair the color o’ the chosen pelt serves t’ warn others o’ our higher calling—why I ne’er wed. I’m the only grey wolf in the clans. Most are black like Niadh.” His eyes grew sad. “As punishment for his indiscretion, Niadh is doomed t’ keep that form. I’m hopin’ when we return I can convince the council t’ lift his sentence. ’Tis too harsh an’ has gone on long enough.”

  Finora turned to Niadh. “I’m sorry.”

  Niadh inclined his head.

  “I hope you succeed. No one should be trapped in one form. I know.”

  “Ye need yer skin t’ return t’ the sea?”

  She nodded. “I’ve looked all over the cottage and the Light tower, even down in the well. I’ve searched the caves under the cliffs. I can’t think where else he’d hide it, since he knew what it was, what its power was, and wouldn’t want it to fall into the wrong hands.”

  Niadh sneezed. Trystan squeezed her hands in warning, and Tess came back around.

  “Can I get you anything else?”

  “Nay.” Trystan smiled.

  “I need to get back up to the Light afore dark,” Finora stated.

  “Have a good night then.” Tess wandered off.

  “Ready to go?” Finora asked. “If you want to stay…”

  Trystan shook his head. “Ye’re no’ walkin’ home alone with sommat stalkin’ ye along the shore.” He accompanied her out onto the street. “Did ye e’er consider asking yer goddess, Cilaniestra. for help in findin’ yer skin? Seems a goddess o’ the sea would know right where it is.”

  Finora shuddered. “You don’t ask Cilaniestra for favors. Ancient fishermen did it—asked permission to fish these waters. And they paid a hefty tithe in lost ships and lost lives for the privilege. Her cost would be too high. She takes what’s most dear. I would not trade one of my own children for my freedom, and that’s the price she’s most likely to ask. I have naught else of value to offer, and that I will never do.”

  “Is she so dark then?”

  Finora started to nod, then sighed and considered. “Depends on your point of view. For those that have lost loved ones, she can seem so. But for men from above to take prey from the predators of the deep, a trade must be made. Flesh for flesh. The ships become reefs that are home for many creatures. There are tiny, nearly invisible creatures that devour rotting flesh and stray scraps, that are in turn eaten by small fish, that are in turn eaten by bigger fish, and so on. If you consider that Cilaniestra has to care for all, then I guess not. But my children are not currency, nor are they objects for trade or barter.”

  Trystan smiled at her as they walked toward the cliffside path along the shore.

  “What?” she asked.

  “I’m of the mind that mothers are the ultimate guardians. We pale by comparison.”

  She snorted, but couldn’t suppress a shudder as they passed through the empty market place. She stared ahead at the harbor’s edge, where
water lapped the shoreline with deceptive docility, and faltered. “I know I’m being foolish. Mayhaps ’twas but my imagination.”

  “Seldom do two people have the same imagination,” Trystan said. “I’m armed. Niadh an’ me, we’ll be ready for whate’er ventures forth. Call Bree. Ask her if sommat’s amiss.”

  Finora plowed to a halt, and felt the heat rise in her cheeks. “I’m a fool. Why didn’t I think of that?” She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t be distracted. “Bree?”

  “What’s wrong? You sound tense.”

  “Can you meet us? Come through the harbor.” Finora opened her eyes and turned to Trystan. “If there’s anything amiss, Bree will find it. Not many creatures are fool enough to take on a mer. Their bite packs a powerful venom.”

  Trystan’s jaw dropped. “She kissed me!”

  “She didn’t bite you, so you’re safe.”

  He looked unconvinced, so Finora just started walking again. He’d catch up.

  He did, quicker than she had thought, just as she reached the narrow corridor that ran along the rocky shore. The water lapped at their boots. He kept a hand on one of his throwing axes, and his eyes were watchful as they scanned the surface of the harbor. “D’ye sense anything, lass?”

  “I varden hate it when you call me that!” Finora burst out.

  His eyes twinkled at her, unrepentant. “Verra weel. D’ye sense anythin’, granna?”

  Finora glared at him, then she, too, turned her attention to the water. “Here comes Bree.”

  “So what’s so urgent it couldn’t wait?” Bree called.

  “Are ye alone?” Trystan asked.

  “For the moment,” the mermaid replied. “I do have an assignation after dinner I need to return to, since you won’t come out and play, wolf man.”

  “Bree, has anything changed? Have you heard any rumors?” Finora tried to keep her voice neutral, but creeping anxiety tightened it until she could barely form the words.