Chapter 5
That evening at the convent, Maeve continued to investigate her theory that other islands might have survived the destruction of Aerland. Mother Ginessa and a few of the older nuns had heard of the legend, and they agreed with her that the existence of another island was quite possible.
In the library, she discovered a map of decaying yellow parchment that showed the ancient continent. When she placed it side by side with a modern map, she could tell that the landmass had extended far to the south and west. The Isles of Moon and Mist had been on the northeastern edge of the continent.
She stayed up late into the night, skimming through the library’s aged tomes until her eyes were burning with fatigue. For all her work, she learned very little new information.
The civilization had been quite advanced, with paved roads and elegant stone villas with pools overlooking the sea. Members of the ancient race had been capable of different kinds of sorcery—shifting into animals and sea creatures, telepathy, telekinetic abilities, the gift of foresight, and even mind control. Not surprisingly, the most powerful sorcerers belonged to the nobility, and so the continent experienced a turbulent and violent history as the different noble families constantly battled one another for the throne.
How sad, Maeve thought, that people so powerful hadn’t been able to live more peacefully among themselves. In today’s world, only the Embraced had similar powers. Perhaps the goddesses, in their wisdom, had decided it was better if such gifts were rare.
Even though she was exhausted, when Maeve finally collapsed on her bed she found herself unable to sleep. The old bedchamber that she had shared with her sisters seemed so empty now. Who would have believed back then that the four eldest girls would become queens?
And what did the future hold for her? Maeve wondered. According to the Seer, she would have answers tomorrow night. Would she see Brody? Would he finally admit that he’d been seeking her company in disguise every month for the past four years? Anticipation coursed through her, making sleep impossible.
Shortly before sunrise, she dragged herself to join the nuns at morning mass, where they said farewell to the moon goddesses, Luna and Lessa, and asked for their protection until they returned that evening. Afterward, the sisters headed to the dining hall to break their fast, and Nevis arrived in time to eat.
“Did you sleep onboard the ship last night?” Maeve asked as they loaded their plates with eggs, bacon, bread, butter, and strawberry jam.
Nevis shook his head. “I can’t stand the thought of admitting failure to Leo, so I went back to Lessa Castle to request another meeting with Queen Esther.”
“Did you see her?”
With a sigh, Nevis set his plate on a table and collapsed into a chair. “No, even though I waited several hours. By the time I gave up, all the rowboats had returned to the ship. So I took a room in an inn by the docks.”
Maeve sat across from him. “I wonder why she’s being so unfriendly.” When Mother Ginessa sat next to her, she asked, “Have you seen the queen lately?”
“Not for a long time.” Mother Ginessa tilted her head, thinking. “It must be nigh on fifteen years.”
“Are you sure she’s alive?” Nevis muttered, and Maeve shot him an annoyed look.
Mother Ginessa smiled. “Aye, I’m sure. She sends me a note every month with a generous donation.”
“So you exchange letters with her?” Maeve asked.
Mother Ginessa nodded. “She always asks us to remember her husband and two sons in our prayers.”
“Oh, that’s right.” Maeve recalled that during every mass, the nuns would beseech the goddesses to watch over a long list of people, and that list had always included King Rudgar and his sons. Growing up at the convent, she’d heard all the names recited several times a day, year after year. Eventually, she had ceased to pay much attention to them.
“What happened to them?” Nevis asked.
“They were lost at sea.” Mother Ginessa made the sign of the moons. “May the goddesses keep them in a loving embrace.”
Maeve joined her in making the sign of the moons. “I remember now. I was only about five years old when the news arrived that the king and his sons had died. People all over the island were in mourning.”
“Aye, ’twas terribly sad.” Mother Ginessa blinked away tears. “Poor Esther. Her heart was so broken, she closed herself off in the castle and has ne’er come out since.”
Nevis narrowed his eyes. “Then who’s running the country?”
Mother Ginessa gave him a wry look. “She may be heartbroken, but she’s still responsible and attends to her duties. The Isle of Moon is not that large, so there isn’t a great deal for her to do.”
“What about her daughter?” Maeve asked. “Maybe Nevis would have better luck seeking an audience with her.”
“Princess Elinor?” Mother Ginessa shrugged. “I’m not sure that would work. From Esther’s letters, it appears that the princess has very little interest in politics. She’s an artist.”
Nevis snorted. “Who does she think is going to run the place after her mother is gone?” He winced when Maeve kicked him under the table. “What?”
She smiled. “I thought we could spend the morning down at the docks, asking the sailors if they’ve ever seen or heard about islands to the south of here.”
Nevis grunted as he spread butter and jam on his bread. “If you say so.”
An hour later they were wandering about the docks, asking anyone they could find. Unfortunately, all the fishermen had gone out to sea before dawn. Only a few had returned, their boats filled with fish, but they were too busy unloading their haul to pay any attention to Maeve’s questions.
“Please, this is important,” she begged a fishing boat captain.
He gave her an impatient look. “Lass, there are things ye should not ask.”
“Why not?”
“Because there are places ye should not go. Places whence a boat may ne’er return.”
“Where?” she asked.
He huffed. “Did ye not listen to what I said?”
“Is it to the southwest?”
He gave Nevis a pointed look. “Take her away from here afore she gets herself in trouble.”
“Aye, Captain.” Nevis took hold of her elbow to lead her away.
“But he knows more,” Maeve protested.
“Maybe.” Nevis shrugged. “Maybe not. Men who sail the sea always have stories they pass about. It doesn’t mean any of their tales are true.”
“Even a rumor or superstition could be based on fact,” Maeve insisted.
They walked along the docks till Nevis motioned to a nearby tavern. “I ate there last night. They have good fried fish. Let’s go inside.”
Maeve snorted. He was hungry again? Still, it wasn’t a bad idea. “While you eat, I’ll question the customers.”
Nevis groaned. “Don’t you realize some of them will be drunkards? They would tell you anything for a drink.”
“I’m not giving up,” Maeve argued. “Someone is going to know about another island.”
“Would ye be talking now about the Isle of Secrets?” an old man called to them from the bench in front of the tavern. He was barefoot and dressed in rags, cradling a bottle to his chest.
Maeve’s breath caught, and she rushed toward him. “Is that what the island is called?”
The old man’s eyes twinkled with humor. “Now how can I tell ye, lassie, when ’tis a secret?”
Nevis gave him a wry look. “Will it still be a secret if I buy you a drink?”
“Och, then I might find it in me heart to tell this pretty lass all about it,” the old man said with a grin that was missing a few teeth.
“Right.” Nevis trudged inside the tavern.
“My name is Maeve.” She took a seat on the bench next to the old man. “And you are?”
His grin faded as he nervously plucked at his torn breeches. “Me mates used to call me Lobby ’cause the sun could cook me as red
as a lobster.”
Maeve winced. “That sounds painful.”
He looked up at her, his ruddy face etched with wrinkles and regret. “I appreciate the offer of a drink, lass, but I should not tell ye more. ’Tis an evil place. A place where boats and sailors disappear.”
“Why?” Maeve asked. “Are the currents treacherous?”
He shook his head.
“The reefs are dangerous?”
“Nay.” He lowered his voice. “She is dangerous.”
“She?”
He closed his eyes briefly with a pained look. “I was the only one to make it back home.” He lifted his bottle to take a sip, then realized it was empty and held it tightly against his chest as he rocked back and forth. “They all died. All me mates.” His eyes filled with tears. “I can’t go back to sea. She’s looking for me, I know it. She wants to kill me.”
“Who is she?”
Lobby looked to the right, then left, and lowered his voice to the barest of whispers. “The Sea Witch.”
“A witch?”
“Shh!” He hushed her and looked around once more. “She kills anyone who finds her island. Breaks yer ship in two and laughs while ye all drown.”
Nevis walked out the door, holding two pewter mugs of beer, and the old man grabbed one and guzzled it down.
“Well?” Nevis asked.
Maeve shrugged, uncertain how much she could believe of the man’s fanciful tale. “He says there’s an island that belongs to a sea witch.”
“Don’t say her name out loud!” Lobby nabbed Nevis’s second mug. “If she finds out I survived, she’ll come after me.”
“Right.” Nevis eyed the man dubiously. “And where exactly is this . . . unmentionable lady?”
“On the Isle of Secrets, of course.” Lobby took a long drink.
It sounded like a perfect place to hide the Embraced army, Maeve thought. “How do we get there?”
Lobby choked, then wiped his mouth with a grimy hand. “Ye cannot go there! She’ll kill you, for sure.”
“I’m just curious,” Maeve assured him. “Is it south from here?”
“Mostly south,” Lobby replied. “A little west. But don’t ye dare try it. Boats that go there ne’er come back.”
That was similar to what the fishing boat captain had said. Maeve was tempted to believe there could be a kernel of truth behind these tales. She stood and smiled at the old man. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Och, I shouldn’t have.” He set his mug on the bench with a regretful look. “Promise me, lass, that ye’ll not attempt to go there.”
That was a promise she couldn’t make. “Lobby, do you know where the Convent of the Two Moons is?” When he nodded, she continued, “If you go there, the nuns will give you a hot meal, a bath, and some clean clothes. If you’re willing to work, they can help you find employment.”
His face crumpled, and a tear ran down a wrinkled cheek. “Ah, lass, I’ve been lost without me mates. I don’t know why I was the one to survive. They were better men than I.”
“I’m sure it’s been difficult for you.” She touched his shoulder. “But the goddesses spared your life, so you should do your best with it, don’t you think? Wouldn’t that be the best way to honor your friends?”
He nodded, another tear rolling down his face. “I think ye’re right, lass.”
As she walked back to the convent with Nevis, she glanced over her shoulder a few times to see if Lobby was following them. But he wasn’t.
“You did what you could,” Nevis told her. “He has to make the choice himself. And he might choose liquor over life.”
Maeve sighed, knowing that was true. “Have you ever heard of a sea witch?”
“No.”
“It seems to me that the Isle of Secrets would be a good place to hide the Embraced army.”
Nevis snorted. “If such a place actually exists.”
Should she ask Captain Shaw to help her find the island? She winced, wondering if the mysterious Sea Witch might actually destroy the captain’s ship and drown his crew. Perhaps they would be safer if she looked for the island herself as a seal. But she had never attempted a long journey before. How far could she swim before exhaustion set in? What if she couldn’t find land?
She shook her head. It was too dangerous to go alone. Perhaps she could convince some of her seal friends to accompany her? Or Brody? Her heart leaped up her throat. Of course! Brody could go with her. He could even take eagle form occasionally to search for the island from above.
And if this mysterious Sea Witch actually existed, she would not think it odd if a seal or eagle arrived on her island. Then Maeve wouldn’t have to worry about Captain Shaw losing his ship or his crew.
After they arrived back at the convent, Nevis stayed to have the midday meal with them. Then he left to try once more to see Queen Esther at Lessa Castle. Maeve went back to her room, and since she hadn’t slept much the night before, she soon fell into a deep sleep.
* * *
On the Isle of Mist, Brody woke and was relieved to discover he was still in the form of the Seer. After staying up most of the night to read the Seer’s journal, he’d finally fallen asleep around dawn. The orange tabby demanded to be fed before Brody did anything else, so he gave Trouble the last of the chicken. After washing up, he started a fire in the hearth. The last of the bread from the convent had grown stale, so he toasted it with some cheese over the fire. Then he sat at the table to eat while he resumed his reading of the journal.
He’d skimmed through more than fifty years of entries the night before. Sadly, they had all been too similar—visions of war, destruction, plague, and starvation. It was a wonder the Seer hadn’t lost his mind after being forced to witness so much violence and despair. But then, about twenty-three years ago, he had experienced a different kind of vision, one that had left him so thrilled, his handwriting had become messy in his haste to record all the details.
Brody had marked the entry with an old ribbon, and this afternoon, he returned to the passage to read it once again.
Early spring, Year 677.
Today, my heart is light and full of a hope that I haven’t felt in decades. Indeed, I find myself so excited, I can barely contain my joyful spirit long enough to write this entry.
My dream last night started off much like my other visions. I was floating across the ocean on my way to the mainland. But when I arrived, I didn’t see what I normally do.
I flew over the kingdom of Tourin, and to my amazement, I saw happy people. Well-fed and healthy, they bustled about the markets, they labored in fields ripe with grain and vegetables, they herded fat sheep and cows, they played with children and sang songs in the taverns. Before I could offer a prayer of thanksgiving to the goddesses, a strong wind came out of the capital of Lourdon and swept me quickly south.
In the kingdom of Eberon, I saw more people enjoying peace and prosperity. No battles. No disease. No starvation. But I was startled when, suddenly, a bolt of lightning shot from Ebton Palace and speared the clouds. I realized, though, that the lightning had not been intended to cause me any harm. It was the lightning that kept the people of Eberon protected. They, too, were safe and happy.
Suddenly, a dragon appeared and snatched me out of the sky. Normally, I might have felt fear, but in my dream, I understood that I was in no danger. The dragon flew toward the country of Norveshka, and as we soared over his country, I could feel his pride as he showed me how happy and safe his people were.
The dragon veered south, taking me into Woodwyn, the land of the elves. More peace. More prosperity. When the dragon released me, I fell, tumbling toward the earth. I remember growing quite agitated in my sleep, believing that I would crash into the ground far below. But then my body hit a soft cushion of leaves, and as I slipped through a leafy canopy, a large oak tree wrapped its branches around me, cradling me until I was gently set on the ground.
And that was when I awoke. I am not certain what all the details meant, but
one thing is certain: The era of war and destruction will soon come to an end. And then a time of peace and prosperity will follow. For now I, Burien of Aerland, will pray to the goddesses—please let peace come quickly!
Brody took a bite of his toast and cheese as he considered the entry. In hindsight, the details that had confused the Seer now made perfect sense to Brody. The peace that had come to Tourin had been brought about when Ulfrid and Brigitta had become the rulers there. The wind that had blown the Seer south was a reference to Ulfrid, also known as the infamous pirate Rupert who could control the wind.
The lightning shooting out of Ebton Palace had to signify Leo, for he possessed the power of lightning. Eberon was now at peace because Leo and Luciana had become king and queen.
The dragon had to be King Silas, the dragon shifter who ruled Norveshka with his wife, Gwennore. And the oak tree that had cushioned the Seer’s fall was a symbol of King Brennan, the elfin king also known as the Woodsman. With Brennan and Sorcha in power there, the country of Woodwyn was now also at peace.
It was the adopted sisters from the Isle of Moon who, along with their husbands, were bringing a new era of peace to Aerthlan. But twenty-three years ago, the Seer had not known how the peace would come about.
Brody skimmed through another year’s worth of entries, and to his dismay, the Seer’s visions had reverted to their usual doom and gloom. Each time the Seer experienced another bad vision, his feelings of despair grew.
Late autumn, Year 677.
Another vision of war and death. What happened to the peace I thought was coming? Each month my hope dwindles, my spirit dies a little more. Goddesses, why have you forsaken me?
Early spring, Year 678.
Finally! After a year, I was blessed with another good vision. Peace and prosperity, happy and healthy people all over the mainland of Aerthlan. My relief is great . . . and yet, I am afraid that another year will pass before I see another good vision. How can I bear to see more death and violence when I know it is possible to have peace? Surely the good visions are not sent to me for the sole purpose of tormenting me. Dear goddesses, what is the purpose of the good dreams? What must I do to usher in this era of peace?
The Siren and the Deep Blue Sea Page 7