Nine

 

"I will not do this!" Margareta burst out. After being silent so long, her voice sounded strange in her ears. "I will not save them from a fate they so richly deserve. She should have killed them, not let them fly away. How dare they..."

Penelope's mouth dropped open in shock. "But an enchantress cannot use her power to kill. It is against the laws of their kind. If she does, she will be enslaved like the other djinn, who were once free to practice magic until they turned to evil."

Margareta would not be silenced. "So an enchantress who puts down a pack of rabid dogs who prey on women is punished, while the men get off lightly, with the gift of flight?"

"That was the enchantress's choice of punishment. I am sure Mistress Kun had her reasons. A lesser witch does not question an enchantress, for she understands far more than I ever will," Penelope faltered.

"Where is this enchantress now?" Margareta demanded.

"I do not know. I was busy with childbirth when she left and I did not see her again," Penelope replied.

So she could not question the enchantress, Margareta mused. But there was one person she could speak to, who would not be allowed to hold back information this time.

She stormed through the house to her father's solar. He had aged since she'd seen him last, though it had only been a few weeks. Right now, though, she didn't care if he looked twice his age.

"I won't do it. I won't stay silent. They deserve their fate," she said through gritted teeth.

"They're boys. Your brothers. Boys shouldn't be punished for pulling a prank. They weren't hurting anybody. Those novices were too easily frightened." Father dismissed her concerns with a wave of his hand.

"And what of the witch? Or Lady Penelope? Or Sir Godfrey, the knight they murdered?" Margareta demanded. "A man is dead. His wife a widow, his child fatherless. They demand justice."

Her father surveyed the study. "Yet I don't see them here. Just you."

Margareta slammed her fist into the table. "Yes, me. The daughter you duped into helping you free my dastardly brothers from a curse they deserve."

"They killed a man who attacked them, Meg. There is no crime in that. They are my sons, and one day Beacon Isle will belong to them. In the meantime, they carry my justice from one end of the island to the other. Perhaps they might have overpowered the man, and brought him here to face justice instead of killing him outright, but there were a lot of women present who might have been in danger from the madman. If they were here, I could ask them, but they are not, and they will not return until the curse is broken. A curse you swore you would break."

"That was before I knew how much they deserved it!" Margareta cried. "If I break this curse, one day they will be masters of Beacon Isle, and heaven help the islanders when you are gone. There will be no justice, for they will be lords who take whatever they will, and no woman will be safe. I will not be a part of this, Father."

"So you will let your brothers remain birds forever, because you, a girl who has not been taught to rule like her brothers have from their infancy, think you know better?"

Margareta folded her arms across her chest. "Any village idiot knows better than to torment innocent women for their own amusement. I would do a far better job at ruling this island than any of my brothers."

"No woman can rule," Father scoffed. "That is why girls must marry. So their husband can rule their lands with the strength required to hold them, or they would soon lose them to conquest."

In the human world, Margareta knew this to be true, but beneath the waves, it was a different story. "Not my kind. Under the surface, women rule the oceans. And the men who think they are strong enough to challenge us for our domain die," she said fiercely.

The Master of Beacon Isle leaned back in his chair, considering her. "Very well. If you lift the curse on my sons, I will give you Beacon Isle as your dowry when you marry."

Margareta held his gaze, knowing the lie that lurked beneath his promise. Her kind did not marry, and no human male would survive long in her bed. But he would only need to survive long enough to claim her dowry, and Beacon Isle would be safe. Her brothers could never inherit.

"We have an accord," she said.

The Master was quick to follow up on what he thought was his advantage. "Indeed we do. See that you keep your promise and save my sons."

Mutely, Margareta nodded. If by breaking the curse, she could free Beacon Isle from the curse of her brothers, her silence was a small price to pay. One which would yield lands, a husband and maybe even the one thing she wanted most – a child like Melitta.