Chapter 38

waxing moon

Jenny stood on the cliffs, staring out at the gentle sea. Fishing boats rode easy swells. She shuddered at the thought of what they might bring up in their nets.

“I thought I would find you here.”

She turned and watched Mihail walk toward her. “You shouldn’t be up yet. You need to rest.”

He smiled and shook his head. “My shoulder and back were burned, not my legs. I needed to move, needed the fresh air.”

Jenny turned back to the sea, felt the warmth of his hand when he rested it on her shoulder.

“If you’re going to brood and feel guilty, I can remind you of all the people who wouldn’t have survived if you hadn’t used the sea to defend us against the Inquisitors’ warships.”

“Will you also remind me of all the people who didn’t survive?” Jenny asked softly. “There are empty chairs around the tables in this village, Mihail. There are empty chairs around the tables in the other Clan houses.”

“That wasn’t your doing, Jenny.” Mihail squeezed her shoulder. “Murtagh made a point of telling me the Fae who were flying around those ships weren’t killed by the sea. Arrows killed them. Or fire if they were splashed when one of those pots of liquid fire struck a ship. They fought for themselves and their land and their way of life just as much as they fought to help us. Just as we would have fought to help them.”

The words washed against a different kind of pain, a different kind of grief, trying to break through and smooth the rough edges of emotion, like the sea’s relentless dance with stone.

“Murtagh said he tried to tell you this, but you weren’t ready to hear it, weren’t ready to accept it. Will you listen now, Jenny?”

Tears filled her eyes, blurring her vision. “The anger and the grief that swelled the sea and created that storm…They were mine. They came from me.”

“So did the love.”

She obeyed the pressure of his hand and shifted to face him. “I know what I gave to the sea. What I chose to give to the sea. I didn’t choose love.”

“You didn’t have to choose. It’s part of who you are.” He released her shoulder to rub the back of his neck, and his voice ripened with frustration. “I know the sea, and I know you—and I know how the sea feels when you channel your gift through it. Mother’s mercy, we’ve sailed together enough times. How could I not recognize the feel of you in the water?” When she just stared at him, he swore. “Sometimes you can be as stubborn as stone. So tell me this, Jenny. If there wasn’t love in that storm, how do you explain the two children? A sister and brother. They were on the ship the Inquisitors burned. The children’s parents threw them off the ship while it burned and broke up around them. Threw them into the sea, doing the only thing they could to spare their children from burning.

“Those children were too young to survive in the sea. They were too far from land and any help, and they were in that storm with nothing but the sea around them. They should have drowned, Jenny. And yet, when the selkies swam out to look for survivors, they found those two children riding the swells. They said there were currents in that water like they’d never felt before—currents that constantly pushed upward, under those children, keeping them in that place where water meets air. The selkies used those currents, pushing the children to one of the boats that had come out to help. When the children were safely on board, the currents disappeared. The selkies didn’t know what to call it. I do. That was love.

“And what about the rest of us? We rode through that storm, too, and we came to no harm. Because the part of you that you never have to think about kept guiding the sea around our ships. Swells that would have destroyed a ship if they’d crested, never crested. We sailed through mountains of water that didn’t tumble in on themselves until the ships were past them. That wasn’t luck, Jenny. That was love. You have to know that. This fight isn’t over, and the day may come when you need to shape the sea into a weapon again to save those you hold dear. I’d take that burden from you if I could, and do it with a glad heart, but I don’t have your strength and I can’t command the sea the way you do.”

Mihail put one arm around Jenny, drawing her against him. “So you have to know, sister dear, that if you give the sea your fury to fight against the enemy, love will always flow under it to protect your friends.”

Jenny broke, weeping bitterly as she clung to her brother. It felt as if the sea crashed inside her, fierce waves breaking the foundation upon which she’d built her life, the security she’d always had that her creed was her protection against using her gift to harm instead of help.

“You’ve lost your innocence, Jenny,” Mihail said when her sobs had finally eased back to sniffles. “And I’m sorry for it. It’s no comfort, but you’re not alone. There will be other witches who will weep bitter tears when they make the same choice and break the creed. But they’ll break it because they must, and they’ll weep to ease the grief in their hearts—and they’ll go on with their lives.”

“It will never be the same,” Jenny whispered.

“No, it will never be the same.”

Jenny said nothing for a while, finding comfort in the steady beat of Mihail’s heart beneath her cheek. Finally, she eased back, fumbled in her pocket for a handkerchief, and wiped her face. She looked away, feeling a fresh stab of grief, which had been hidden under the storm but had been raging inside her. “The selkies are afraid of me. Murtagh is afraid of me.”

Mihail laughed.

Jenny stared at him, insulted. “How can you laugh about it?”

“I’m sorry, Jenny. I am. But—” He winced when he moved without thinking. “Mother’s tits. My shoulder is going to be tender for a while.” He smiled at her and shook his head. “I am sorry, but you’re thinking like a woman.”

“And that’s bad?”

“No, it’s just”—he let out a gusty sigh, and winced again—“the selkies sometimes fear the sea, too, with good reason. But that doesn’t keep them away from it. As for Murtagh…well, his visits to my sick bed weren’t just to keep me company.”

“Then why was he there?”

“He hedged a bit—and I got the impression Murtagh rarely hedges about anything—but the gist of the talk was to find out if I’d have any objections to his visiting us to become better acquainted. And before you say anything that makes you sound dim-witted, I’ll tell you now he really isn’t interested in becoming better acquainted with me.

Jenny turned away and frowned at the sea. “He hasn’t come to his grandmother’s cottage in the past two days. Not even to visit you.”

“That’s because he’s gone to the mainland across the bay to talk to the young baron who rules there, and also to purchase a mainsail for Sweet Selkie. They’ve canvas enough to replace the smaller sails that were damaged, but he’ll bring the mainsail back with him.”

“You gave him the coins to pay for it?”

Chuckling, Mihail slipped his arm through hers and started walking back to the village. “Craig gave him the coins for it—and the commission for acting as the family’s agent in the purchase.”

Jenny blinked. “The Lord of the Selkies had to barter with Craig to pay for the mainsail and get a commission?” She pitied anyone who had to barter with her cousin.

“Murtagh was ready to pull his own hair out by the time it was done, then insisted that he’d given in only because Craig was still recovering from his injuries.”

Jenny frowned. “Craig didn’t barter well?”

“He bartered as he always does.”

“Oh, dear. Poor Murtagh.” She laughed, but the laughter faded quickly. “Craig will heal, won’t he?”

Mihail looked sad and grim. “He was badly burned, Jenny. His face will always be scarred. But the healers are hopeful that he’ll regain the use of his hand, and there’s nothing wrong with his wits. Time will heal the body, and work will heal the rest. In a few days, we’ll be able to go on to Sealand, and he can set up the stock we have and start to rebuild the family business.”

He didn’t call it home, she noticed. Sealand wasn’t home for him. Not yet. But it was safe harbor. She knew he would wait anxiously for the day when his wife and daughter would be able to leave Willowsbrook and join him there. Then Sealand would be home.

She hoped that day would come. She hoped Mihail’s family and Fiona and Rory and the others had made the journey to Willowsbrook safely. And she hoped they would remain safe despite whatever battles were raging in the eastern part of Sylvalan.