The Siren and the Deep Blue Sea

by Kerrelyn Sparks

  The Seer opened his eyes and a tear ran down his face. “I’m not sure. I hope she makes it here before I die.”

  The knife tumbled from Brody’s hand. “Don’t say that! You’re not going to die.”

  “I am. It was the third vision. I saw my burial.”

  “Enough!” Brody slapped a hand on the table. “You didn’t see anything. You don’t have visions anymore, remember?”

  “It was a parting gift. My parting. I saw you digging my grave up on my favorite bluff overlooking the ocean—”

  “Stop.” Brody hated how weak his protest sounded.

  The Seer reached across the table and touched Brody’s hand. It was meant to be a squeeze, Brody realized with an aching heart, but the old man didn’t have enough strength in his fingers to accomplish it.

  “I saw you kneeling in the rain and crying,” the Seer continued. “Don’t let it sadden you. None of us can live forever.”

  Brody drew in a shaky breath. “You should lie down and rest. You’ve overworked yourself because of this stupid soup—”

  “That reminds me.” The Seer motioned toward the pot. “You should put the carrots in.”

  Gritting his teeth, Brody took the chopping board over to the fireplace and shoved the sliced carrots into the soup.

  “When I die, my daughter will inherit my gift.”

  “What?” Brody turned toward the Seer.

  “That is how it works with my people.”

  “What people?” Brody stalked back to the table and sat across from the Seer. “You’ve lived here alone for as long as anyone can remember. Except for the years that I lived with you.”

  “I am the last living male of my race. An ancient race of sorcerers. My father was a Seer, and his father before him. When my father died, the gift passed on to me. And now my daughter will receive it when I die.”

  “You’re not going to die!”

  Another tear rolled down the Seer’s wrinkled cheek. “I’m not afraid of death, boy. I’m more afraid that you will hate me when you learn the truth.”

  A chill skittered down Brody’s spine. “What are you talking about now?”

  More tears fell and the Seer leaned his bony elbows on the table and cradled his head in his hands. “My crime. I have to confess it to you before I die.”

  “You’re not dying!”

  “I’ve been dreading this moment for fifteen years. I’m so sorry. Everything that happened to you—it was all my fault.”

  Brody sat back. “How could it be your fault, old man? You didn’t destroy my father’s ship. You didn’t cause everyone onboard to die. You didn’t put this damned curse on me!”

  The Seer crumpled, his head falling onto the table as he cried, and instantly, Brody regretted yelling at him.

  “I’m sorry.” He touched the man’s back and winced at the bones he could feel beneath his skin. “Don’t do this, Seer. Go to bed and sleep. You’ll feel better—”

  “I was here alone from the age of twenty-five,” the Seer mumbled through his tears. “So many years of loneliness. So many years of despair. I saw no one for months at a time. I only saw death and destruction every night in my visions. They tormented me. Haunted me. I thought I would lose my mind.”

  Brody rubbed the man’s back. “I’m sorry. It must have been hard for you.”

  The old man lifted his head. “But then, all of a sudden, I had a good vision. I saw a change come over Aerthlan. Peace and prosperity took the place of violence and bloodshed.”

  “That is good.” Brody wondered if the Seer had seen what was happening now.

  The Seer shook his head. “No, it was bad. It taunted me. I could see the peaceful time in the future, but still, day after day, war and destruction wreaked havoc on the world. In my despair, I thought I could no longer stand by while innocent people were dying.”

  He sighed. “In the end, it was my own vanity that caused my crime. I thought the good vision had been given to me because I was the one who could make it happen. If I was in charge, I could bring peace and prosperity to the world.”

  “In charge?” Brody sat back, his nerves tensing. “You mean you wanted to rule the world?”

  “It sounds terrible, doesn’t it?” The Seer slumped lower in his chair. “But at the time I thought it would be all right if I could rule with wisdom and kindness. Certainly better than the constant death and destruction I kept seeing every night in my visions. And who would be better equipped than I to see what problems might arise in the future? I would be able to solve those problems before they even happened.”

  Brody swallowed hard. “But you didn’t do it . . .”

  “Then she came.” The Seer pressed a hand to his chest and grimaced as if he were in pain. “She was so beautiful. In my loneliness, I opened my heart and mind to her. And she told me I was right. I was meant to rule the world. She would help me.”

  An alarm went off in Brody’s mind.

  “She knew powerful men on the mainland who would help me. Men who were sick of war and death. A kindly priest from Eberon and a general—”

  “No!” Brody lurched to his feet, causing his chair to fall over with a clatter. A priest? Was he referring to Lord Morris? General Caladras? “What are you saying, old man? What did you do?”

  The Seer’s hand clutched his shirt as he grimaced once more in pain. “I am the first member of the Circle of Five.”

  Chapter 3

  Brody paced about the garden. Not the Seer. Not the man who saved me. Not the man who has been like a father to me. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t even want to hear it. He’d stormed out of the cottage, unable to listen to any more.

  “It’s bullshit,” he said softly. The old man was losing his mind and spouting nonsense. He’d spent too many years alone with his horrific visions. It would be enough to drive anyone insane.

  But the Seer had lost his visions. Punishment for his crime—the creation of the Circle of Five.

  “No!” Brody clenched his fists. Anger replaced his shock, and he stalked across the garden, ready to punch something. How could the Seer have done such a thing?

  But what had the old man done? He’d never hurt anyone. Dammit, he’d never even left the island.

  Brody slowed to a stop. Why was he angry at the Seer? It was the other members of the Circle who had usurped his idea for their own selfish purposes. No doubt, the other four members had never intended to let the Seer be a benevolent ruler. They had wanted the power for themselves. And if they had taken over the world, they would have killed each other to be the last man standing.

  A crashing sound came from the cottage, and as Brody turned toward the door, the orange tabby ran out and meowed at him.

  “What have you done now, Trouble?” Brody asked the cat as he walked back into the cottage. “Seer!”

  The old man had collapsed on the floor next to the table.

  “Seer?” Brody rolled him onto his back. The old man’s skin was ashen, his sunken eyes closed, his breathing shallow. “Don’t die on me now.” When he picked the Seer up, his heart ached at how light the old man was. He gently deposited him on his bed.

  The Seer moaned and opened his eyes.

  “I’m here.” Brody enveloped the old man’s hand in his own.

  “I thought you’d left me,” the Seer whispered. “I thought you must hate me.”

  “No, no.” Brody sat on the bed beside him. “How can I stay angry with the man who saved my life? Don’t worry about anything. I’ll nurse you back to health, just as you did me.”

  The Seer’s eyes filled with tears. “You are the best thing that ever happened to me. You and my daughter.”

  Brody blinked away tears. He could only hope that this mysterious daughter would make her appearance soon.

  The Seer drew in a long breath that seemed to rattle in his chest. “When you washed up half-dead on the island, I realized my mistake. The people I had trusted were evil. And that was when my visions started to fade. I no longer deserved
the gift, not when I was so guilty.”

  “You’re not guilty, old man. You simply wanted a better world. There is no crime in that. It was the other members of the Circle who used your idea for their own selfish gain.”

  The Seer gave him the hint of a smile. “You were always a good boy, Brody.”

  He winced. “Not that good. I know you’re not up to it, but I need to ask you some questions.”

  The Seer shook his head. “Too tired. The answers are in my journal.”

  “Where is that?”

  The Seer’s eyes closed and for a terrifying second, Brody thought he was gone. “In the hiding place,” the old man whispered.

  That didn’t help much. “You may not know this, but two of the Circle members are dead: Lord Morris and General Caladras. The Chameleon is left.” Brody grimaced. “And you. Who is the last member?”

  “Cahira.” The Seer’s voice was so faint, Brody wasn’t sure he’d heard it right.

  “A woman?” Brody asked. Oh, right, it had to be the woman who had seduced the Seer and said she would help him. “Who is she? Where is she?”

  “She . . . she lied to me,” the Seer whispered. “Told me our daughter was dead.”

  “She’s the mother of your daughter?” Brody asked. Then this daughter couldn’t be that old, after all.

  The Seer squeezed Brody’s hand slightly. “Please look after my daughter.”

  “Of course.” Although Brody had no idea who or where she might be. “Is she with her mother? Where can I find Cahira?”

  “No need to look for Cahira.” The Seer coughed. “She will find you.”

  “How?”

  “Saw her last week. She . . .” The Seer paused for a moment, breathing hard. “She thought I was too sick to live alone. She’s sending a ship here to take me to her castle.”

  “She has a castle? Where? And if she was so worried about you, why did she leave you here?”

  “She didn’t come . . . in a boat.”

  “What? Then how—” Brody stiffened when, suddenly, the Seer gripped his hand with a surprising burst of strength.

  “You must take my place,” the Seer ordered. “Pretend to be me and go to her castle.”

  “But . . . what about you?”

  The Seer let go of Brody’s hand and his eyes grew unfocused once again. “I will not be here.”

  Brody blinked away tears. He wanted to object, but he could see that the Seer was telling the truth. His death was coming soon. “I don’t want to impersonate you. We always agreed that it was morally wrong for me to pretend to be another person.”

  “You must.” The Seer’s eyes closed. “You must.”

  Brody suppressed a groan. Only once in his life had he ever tried to shift into another person’s image. At the age of eleven, he’d thought it would be funny to impersonate the Seer, but his jest had not gone well. The Seer had scolded him, explaining how harmful it was to steal a person’s identity. Brody had accepted the Seer’s words, but it wasn’t until much later, when he saw the damage the Chameleon was causing, that he understood how evil it truly was. He didn’t even want to try it. Wouldn’t that make him just as bad as the Chameleon?

  “Seer,” he began, but realized the old man had lost consciousness. He leaned over and could barely hear the dying man’s shallow breaths. With a sigh, he straightened. There was nothing he could do but wait.

  He stood and paced around the cottage. Then he remembered he needed to find the journal. For the next hour, he alternated among three things: checking on the Seer, stirring the soup, and searching for the journal. He looked everywhere, but couldn’t find it. Finally, he helped himself to some soup and gave the cat a bowl of chicken meat and broth.

  The Seer kept breathing, and Brody realized it would be a long night. If the Seer needed any assistance, Brody would have to be in human form to help him. With less than an hour left of his allotted time to be human, he needed to be careful how he spent it. So he shifted into a dog.

  With a screech, the cat jumped straight into the air.

  “But I’m a friendly dog,” Brody growled at him.

  The cat hissed and hunched his back, his fur bristling.

  Brody sighed. It was going to be a long night. He curled up on his bed and kept watch.

  Sometime, just before midnight, the Seer’s breathing stopped. Brody sat up, listening carefully. He shifted into human form and sat on the Seer’s bed.

  “Seer?” Brody’s eyes filled with tears. The man who had been a father to him was dead.

  * * *

  Onboard the Eberoni ship, Maeve turned over in the narrow bed as a tingling feeling started in her head and crept down her spine. Ignoring it, she fell back asleep.

  She was floating in the air, surrounded by mist. As she moved slowly forward, a patch of wispy clouds parted before her and she saw a green island surrounded by a narrow belt of turquoise sea. White sandy beaches. Bluffs of long green grass rustling in the breeze. As the sun rose in the east, horizontal rays shot through the mist, and when the light hit the grass, the morning dew sparkled like a sea of stars.

  Just as she was thinking what a lovely island this was, a film of mist drifted in front of her and obscured her vision. Still, she floated toward the island, aware somehow in her dream that time was passing. Then the mist parted, revealing a man alone on a bluff. He had a shovel and was moving a pile of earth back into a hole. A grave.

  It started to rain, but still the man worked. His shirt and breeches grew wet and stuck to his skin. He was tall, lean, and muscular. His black shaggy hair swooped forward, hiding his face. He tamped down the last of the dirt, then began to pile stones on the grave. With the last stone in place, he collapsed onto his knees. When he lifted his eyes to the heavens, his hair fell away from his tear-stained face.

  Brody.

  Maeve woke with a jerk and sat up. The cabin was dark, the only sounds the creaking of the ship. She rubbed her brow as another strange feeling swept through her head. It made her feel light, as if she were floating on the sea.

  She shook her head. It was probably just a reaction from sleeping on the ship. But the dream had seemed so real. An island. Mist.

  Was Brody on the Isle of Mist?

  * * *

  Unable to sleep after her dream, Maeve eventually gave up, got dressed, and went up onto the quarterdeck. Only a helmsman was there at the wheel. Captain Shaw and Nevis were both asleep, so she sat on top of a trunk and entertained herself by gazing at the stars. The two moons, Luna and Lessa, were almost full. Tomorrow night she would be able to shift at the beach near the convent. She smiled to herself. It would be good to see her seal friends again. She’d missed them.

  Her smile faded, though, as she realized tomorrow would mark a full two months since she’d last seen Brody. The sun peeked over the horizon, and the sudden burst of light made her remember the dream she’d had. What if it was more than a dream? Could Brody be on the Isle of Mist right now, digging a grave? For whom? As far as she knew, only the Seer lived there.

  She recalled once again how Brody looked while in human form. Nevis and Leo liked to tease him for having hair like a girl’s, but it wasn’t all that long, only to his shoulders. According to Brody, his time as a human was so limited, he never wanted to spare the few minutes it would take to chop off a few inches. Maeve had always wondered if his shaggy black hair was as soft and silky as his fur when he was a dog.

  It was amusing, now that she thought about it, that no one thought twice about giving canine Brody a pat on the head or a rub behind his ears. She’d certainly hugged him, petted him, even cooed to him that he was such a pretty dog. Good goddesses, she would be far too shy to touch him like that when he was human.

  But Brody never objected to being petted. Was it the only affection the man ever received? Was his life a lonely one?

  Maeve sighed. A few times she had caught a haunted, sad look in his beautiful blue eyes. Whenever he became human, the black patch of fur that surrounded his left eye
as a dog was transformed into a small freckle at the outside corner of his eye. The only freckle on his face. It always drew her attention, making her want to touch it, kiss it . . .

  “You’re up early,” said Captain Shaw, interrupting her thoughts as he joined her on the quarterdeck.

  “Oh, good morning.” She jumped to her feet. “Captain, would it be possible to take me to the Isle of Mist later today?”

  His bushy gray eyebrows rose in surprise. “I suppose so. Queen Luciana asked me to take you wherever you wanted.”

  “Oh, that’s wonderful. Thank you!”

  “What’s wonderful?” Nevis asked as he climbed onto the quarterdeck. His brown hair was sticking out in odd directions and he needed a shave. “I hope it’s breakfast.”

  “Breakfast should be ready soon,” the captain told him.

  “Land ahoy!” the man in the crow’s nest shouted.

  “There.” Captain Shaw pointed northwest, where a strip of land could barely be seen. “The Isle of Moon. We should reach port in a few hours. Excuse me.” He strode toward the helmsman to give directions.

  Nevis scratched at his whiskers. “Good. That gives us enough time to eat.”

  Maeve gave him a wry look. “You seem to think about food quite a bit.”

  “This is muscle not fat.” He patted his torso. “And you never told me what was so wonderful.”

  “The captain has agreed to take us to the Isle of Mist later today.”

  Nevis snorted. “Why are we bothering to go there? No one lives there but—oh, I see. You’re planning to ask the Seer where Brody is.”

  She nodded. “And the Embraced army.”

  Nevis shrugged. “I guess it’s worth a try. Actually, I’ve always wanted to meet the Seer.”

  “Me, too.” She took a deep breath. “I think Brody might be there.”

  “What?” Nevis blinked. “Why would you think that?”

  “I saw him there . . . in a dream.”

  Nevis scoffed. “Right.”