Born In Water

by Sarah Hegger

  Immediately he set out toward her. Her sense of him strengthened as he drew closer to the caverns.

  “Ah!” Mags turned to the entrance. “Roderick is here.”

  Three heartbeats later, he came through the entranceway to the central cavern.

  If Mags could use this much of her blessing without access to her element, it augured well for her power when they could connect her to her element.

  “Blessed.” Roderick inclined his head to the gathered witches. “You have need of me?”

  “Yes.” Maeve stood so he could see her. “Goddess is so dim—”

  “What are you wearing?” Roderick gaped at her. His gaze raked her from top to toe, and his lip curled. “You look ridiculous. You need to cover yourself, not flaunt your body for all to see.”

  “Oy!” Sinead got in front of him. “You have no right to speak to her like that, you absolute prat.”

  He didn’t, and Maeve stood like a puppet and absorbed the blow of his words. She wanted to cry. She wanted to shout at him that she didn’t look ridiculous. She wanted to run and hide.

  His remorse surged through the bond, but her hurt ran deep and fresh.

  “I’m with her.” Alannah squared up to him beside Sinead. “You need to make this right, and do it now.”

  “Maeve?” He tried to sidestep Alannah, but she got in his path.

  “You go near her without an apology, and I’ll rip your balls off and shove them down your throat.”

  Up until that point, Maeve would have sworn Sinead was the more aggressive twin, but it appeared as if riling Alannah had dire consequences.

  “You take that back and beg for her forgiveness. Make it good, or I’ll make you sorry you were born.”

  “Dickhead.” Niamh glared at him. She put her arm about Maeve. “The only magic in this cave today is your arse in those jeans. Trust me on this.”

  Roderick stared at her. Regret was written on his face, but she didn’t need to see it to know he felt it. Their bond overflowed with his emotion. Regret, chagrin, and…something else. Something animal and potent, undeniably sensual.

  “What is that?” She didn’t realize she had voiced the question until he responded.

  Roderick looked at her, gaze intent and loaded. “You know what that is. You can feel it.” He turned his attention to Alannah. “I am deeply sorry for what I said to Maeve. She shocked me wearing those clothes. We come from a different time, and while I am accustomed to you wearing things like that, I did not expect it from Maeve. It took me by surprise, and I misspoke myself.”

  Alannah folded her arms and glared. “Is that it?”

  “She looks…” He pushed a hand through his hair and looked at her. “Can we speak of this alone, Maeve?”

  With all she could sense going on inside him, that was probably a good idea. “I think that would be for the best.” She looked at her allies and defenders. “Would you mind leaving us alone?”

  “I don’t know.” Sinead poked Roderick in the chest. “I still think we should toss his arse out of here.”

  Roderick raised a brow and stared down at her. He used a phrase he’d picked up from Thomas. “You and whose army?”

  Maeve kept her gaze on the other witches trailing out of the cavern. With Roderick silently standing in front of her, she was acutely aware of him, and all they didn’t know about each other, and all the things unsaid between them.

  Before disappearing into the next-door cavern, Sinead turned and jabbed her fore and middle fingers at her eyes and then at Roderick. “I’m watching you, motherfucker.”

  Roderick flinched. “She has a mouth on her.”

  The free swearing was taking her time to accept as well. It wasn’t that they hadn’t always used swear words, but not as freely, and Sinead certainly had a colorful way of cobbling her profanities together. Mother and fucker were not two words Maeve would ever have placed together.

  “Maeve?” Roderick had moved to within a few inches of her, which forced her to peer up at him, and it made her feel at a disadvantage.

  She took a step back.

  He reached out and caught her hip with one hand. “Let me say this.”

  His hand warmed her skin though her breech—jeans as she waited for him to continue.

  “Sinead is right to chastise me for what I said.”

  Chastise seemed too mild a word for Sinead’s outburst, or the one by Alannah and finally Niamh. As a spirit walker, she’d always been more isolated from the coven than the other witches. In this time, she had already experienced more support and companionship than the time she’d been born in.

  “You look astounding, Maeve.” His cool blue eyes warmed from within. “You robbed me of thought and left me saying the first stupid thing that made its way out my mouth.”

  The look in his eyes tugged at something within her. A warm, melty sensation swirled in her belly. “I’m trying to find my feet in these times.”

  “I know that.” He grasped her other hip. “And you’re doing it so much better than I.”

  “No, Roderick—”

  “Yes, Maeve, and that’s why the breeches—”

  “Jeans, and men wear them too.”

  “Jeans.” A slight smile softened his serious face. “I’m adrift in these times, Maeve. I’ve lived for so long and seen so many different things, but this…” He shook his head. “I could never have predicted all that has occurred, all they’ve built and invented, all their technology.” He said the word slowly and carefully as if it felt strange on his tongue. “Thomas has been helping me bridge the distance, closing the gap.”

  “They have created many marvelous things.” She wanted to touch him, and she placed her palms against his chest. Even with their bond, the physical touch brought a warmer connection. “And much has changed. But Roderick, much has not changed. People are still people with all their beauty and foibles. Beneath their new clothes, they are still women and men.”

  “Perhaps not.” Roderick grimaced. “Thomas is attempting to explain trans and gender fluid to me.”

  “Eh?” It was like he was speaking a foreign tongue.

  “Never mind.” Roderick tightened his hands at her hips. “When I came in and saw you looking like one of them, I panicked. I felt like I was losing my last connection to things I knew and understood.”

  “Oh, Roderick.” He allowed some of what roiled within him to seep into their bond. “You are always so strong, so resolute. It never occurs to me that you might have your travails.”

  “Of the two of us, my witch, you are the stronger.” He shook his head when she tried to deny it. “I can swing a sword, fight, kill. But you are my anchor in this time, all that remains of what we have lost.”

  “Coimhdeacht.” Whisper soft and sweet, Goddess’s voice echoed from the pool. “She is your reason for being here, and together, your purpose is mighty.”

  “Goddess.” Roderick dropped to his knee.

  It took Maeve a moment to react she was so shocked. Then she yelled for the others. “Come quickly!”

  They all tumbled around the corner as if they had been hiding behind it listening.

  Despite being the smallest, Bronwyn reached her first. “What? What did he do?”

  “Goddess.” Maeve pointed to where Roderick still remained on bended knee. “She spoke to him.”

  “What?” Niamh blinked at her, took a tottering step toward Roderick and leaped back again. “I don’t know what to do.”

  “Blessed.” Goddess’s voice was barely above a gentle breeze, but the effect was instantaneous. As one, they sank to their knees on the cold, hard cavern floor.

  The new witches paled and stared at the pool.

  Sinead’s mouth worked but produced no words.

  “Mother.” Maeve bowed her head.

  “Mother,” the others intoned and copied her actions.

  “My Blessed,” Goddess’s voice sounded a little stronger. “The dark one spreads her stain across this world. She creeps into all areas o
f power and influence and her strength grows daily.”

  Maeve dared a question. “What would you have us do, Mother?”

  “You must act,” Goddess said. “I have called my new four. You must bond your magic to me.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  Bronwyn couldn’t sleep that night, and judging by the baking spree Alannah was presently in the middle of, neither could she.

  “Hey.” Bronwyn managed a smile as she sat at the kitchen table. “Guess you’re thinking about what happened this morning.”

  Alannah frowned into the bowl she was stirring so vigorously it shook her entire body. “I don’t see how I can’t. Also, Sinead snores and keeps me awake.”

  The twins shared a suite with two bedrooms and a central living room. Maeve had told them the suite used to belong to the coven leader, Fiona. The same coven leader who had betrayed the coven to Rhiannon.

  Thinking about Rhiannon inevitably brought her thinking round to Alexander, and she’d resolved to stop that shit.

  “Want some tea?” Alannah jerked her head at the kettle.

  Like a dose of the clap, Bronwyn wanted tea. “Don’t you have anything stronger? Or is that kind of against coven code or something?”

  “Bloody hell, I hope not.” Alannah put down her bowl and disappeared into one of the back pantries. She came back with a bottle of whisky and plunked it on the table. “Glasses are behind you. Pour me one while you’re at it.”

  After Goddess had spoken—her brain capillaries were still exploding over a speaking deity in a pool in the middle of a cave—they had returned to the castle to discuss it.

  Mags had been all for going ahead with the bonding right there and then. Her confidence was somewhat reassuring, but not enough to persuade the rest of them to drop and bond on the spot.

  Sinead had been the most vociferous about waiting. She wasn’t keen to take part in a ceremony she knew nothing about, with a deity she’d only realized recently wasn’t symbolic, to achieve an outcome she didn’t understand or trust.

  What a wuss. Bronwyn snort laughed into her whisky.

  “Cheers.” Alannah tapped her glass against Bronwyn’s. “Tell me.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Does this sort of thing happen often when you travel?”

  It struck Bronwyn as inordinately funny and she started laughing. There was only so much one girl could take: ancient prophecies, men who you weren’t supposed to fall in love with, evil witches, talking ghosts and deity-infested pools.

  Alannah joined her, and their laughter escalated until Bronwyn was thumping the table and Alannah was struggling to stand.

  “God.” Bronwyn’s laugher abated. “I have no idea what to do.”

  Alannah nodded. She got it without Bronwyn having to explain. “It goes without saying that you’re welcome to stay. Forever if you like.”

  “You have to stay.” Maeve entered the kitchen, swathed in a high-neck, full-length nightgown. With her hair in a long braid down her back, she looked like a Victorian girl. “Without you, Goddess doesn’t have her four.”

  “I know that.” And the vice that had been around Bronwyn’s chest since she’d first heard Goddess speak tightened. “But it’s not that simple. There are all kinds of things to consider, my house in the States, my store.”

  “Passports. Citizenship.” Alannah tossed her whisky back. As it hit her belly, she wheezed and screwed her eyes shut. “Wow! Was that ever awful.” Her eyes popped open and she held her glass out. “More.”

  Bronwyn topped her up then offered the bottle to Maeve. “Can I get you a glass?” She motioned the nightie. “Although, in that getup, I might get arrested for serving alcohol to a minor.”

  Maeve blinked at her.

  Bronwyn tried again. “You look too young to drink.”

  “Oh!” Maeve grabbed her own glass and joined her at the table. “I’m twenty fo—well, no, I suppose not.” She downed her whiskey without blinking. “I’m closer to four hundred.”

  Bronwyn refilled all their glasses. “You look good for your age.”

  They all giggled, Maeve harder than most. “Yes, but it does make me officially the oldest living virgin in history.”

  “You’re a virgin?” No way Bronwyn wasn’t following that lead.

  Alannah sat forward. “So, you and Rod—”

  “No!” Maeve squeaked and blushed. “Never!”

  “I thought for sure you had.” Bronwyn glanced at Alannah who nodded her agreement.

  Maeve took her next shot as fast as the first. “It’s because of the bond. It creates…intimacy between us.”

  Bronwyn snorted. “You keep telling yourself that, sister. The rest of us will enjoy watching Hot Rod and his blue balls stomp around Baile.”

  Blushing, Maeve giggled so hard she snorted. “The way you speak is so funny.”

  “She’s American,” Alannah said, and then shook her head as Maeve opened her mouth. “Nope. No history lessons tonight. Tonight, we get drunk and do girl talk.”

  Bronwyn raised her glass and toasted both of them. “Also, no magic talk, no Goddess talk and no prophecies.” And definitely no inconvenient feelings for woefully inappropriate men talk.

  “Hear! Hear!” Alannah took her shot and shuddered.

  Maeve hadn’t really had friends in the coven before. Her blessing was a solitary one and dealt with death. Nobody really liked being around death that much, not even her, and she understood it wasn’t an end but merely a transition into another state.

  Another thing she wasn’t familiar with was being drunk, and she definitely thought she might be. An hour or so—she wasn’t so sure of her timeline anymore—since she’d joined Bronwyn and Alannah, and the kitchen was blanketed in a warm, fuzzy glow, or perhaps that was happening inside her. Who could tell?

  Bronwyn squinted at her. “This must be so weird for you.”

  “You keep saying weird.” Maeve blinked until Bronwyn’s face stopped being blurry. “I don’t think you mean weird.”

  Frowning, Bronwyn replenished their glasses. Something must have happened to the whisky because it was way farther down than it should be. “Of course I mean weird. Weird is weird.”

  “Not in my world.” And that made her laugh because she wasn’t entirely sure where her world was. Her head felt heavy, and she wanted to put it on the table and let the soft, warm cloud she was floating on take her into sleep. “I’m so tired.”

  “Hmm?” Alannah smiled at her. “You should sleep.”

  “I don’t sleep.”

  Bronwyn blinked. “Why not?”

  “Can’t.” She could rest her head on the table for a minute. The wood was cool beneath her cheek. “Scared.”

  “No.” Alannah reeled back in her chair. “What are you scared of?”

  “Not waking up again.” Her eyelids dragged toward each other and stayed closed. “Like happened before.”

  “That’s bad.” Bronwyn hiccupped. “Does Hot Rod know?”

  Hot Rod! That was such a silly name, and she giggled. Roderick would get all grim faced if she called him that. She might call him that anyway. “Roderick knows everything. Everything.” She waved a hand above her head to be sure they understood how much of everything. “I can’t hide anything from him. Well, I can.” She pushed herself up on her elbows. “But I did that before, and it didn’t end well.”

  Alannah and Bronwyn leaned toward her, waiting. If she told them, they might not like her. Then again, they should hear the truth. “He nearly died.” The memory had her reaching for the bottle. She slopped whisky into all three glasses. “He nearly died because of me.” She blinked into the amber courage giver in her glass. “I didn’t listen to him. Then they tried to drown me. He came to rescue me. Because he had to. No choice.” Poor Roderick. He really had gotten the worst witch to watch over. “It’s what they do. The coimhdeacht.” Her new friends didn’t look like they hated her, and she had their total attention. “Witches first, them second. That’s why they all died here that day. They saved t
he witches first.”

  Sighing, Alannah patted her hand where it lay on the table. “I can’t imagine how awful that was.”

  “It was.” That day was the other reason she didn’t sleep well. When she closed her eyes, the memories of those few weeks flooded her mind. “It all got bad so fast.”

  “Oh, honey!” Bronwyn blinked back tears. “You can tell us if you like.”

  “It was Rhiannon.” Even now, saying that name made her wince. “And Alexander. He tried to get the villagers to put me in the water. Trial by Water, you know.”

  Alannah nodded. “If the witch drowned, she was innocent. If she floated, the devil saved her, and they killed her.”

  “That’s not fair.” Bronwyn scowled. “I really hate that all those women died.” Sighing, Bronwyn refilled their glasses. “I really wish I didn’t know that.”

  “Me too.” The grief threatened to engulf her. “I grew up with them. They were my coven sisters. Rhiannon was looking for a way in, and somehow, she got Edana and Fiona to betray the coven. Why would they do that?” She looked at Alannah for the answer. Other than when she was shouting at Roderick, Alannah was gentle and sweet and wise.

  “I don’t know, love.” Alannah took her other hand. “Maybe she promised them more power or immortal life or something.”

  “It must have been the power.” Maeve liked having her hands held like this. It comforted her. “The immortal life we have. Well, not actual immortality, but as close to it as we can get.”

  Bronwyn gaped at her. “Huh?”

  “The magic.” She still couldn’t believe that she, of all witches, would be the one to teach the new witches. Goddess, if they knew her better, they would be as shocked as she was. “It prolongs your life. The longer you use it, and the more you use it, the stronger you become.”

  Bronwyn gave this some thought. “What if you fall down the cliff?”

  “The magic can heal you.” Before they went tossing themselves off cliffs, they needed to be clear on the next point. “If it can heal you faster than your injuries could kill you, then you’re fine. If not…” She shrugged, because she was certain they were getting the point.