Oceanborne (18 page)

Read Oceanborne Online

Authors: Katherine Irons

Tags: #Romance, #Paranormal, #Fantasy

BOOK: Oceanborne
3.11Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
“I know. I told you that I inherited some of my father's romanticism.”
“Still, I suppose it's possible. The sea hides many secrets. Why not Alexander's tomb?”
“Exactly. It's why I've devoted my life to seeking out the bits of history that remain on the ocean floor.”
For a long time, they lay there, quietly aware of each other, content simply to soak up the peace of the clearing and the tranquil sounds of birdsongs and the waterfall. Finally, Elena broke the silence by asking, “Are your parents living?”
He pushed up on one elbow and a curtain of his yellow hair fell over one eye and half of his face. “Yes. Most decidedly.”
She pushed his hair back so that she could look into his beautiful green eyes. “And do you have a good relationship with them?”
“With my mother. With my father, not so much. He can be touchy, and inflexible. He was born believing that he was king.”
“I know the type. He sounds much like my mother. She's Italian, of an old family. She's a gifted musician, and her career has always been the most important thing in her life. I'm an only child, and I'm afraid I come in somewhere after her current flame.”
“I'm sorry. I was blessed with two good mothers, the one who gave birth to me, and the woman my father married after she died.”
“So your mother's dead. How old were you?”
“Young. An accident.”
Elena swallowed against the constriction in her throat. Something in Orion's voice warned her not to pry. “I'm sorry,” she said. “It must have been difficult for you.”
“It was. But you lost a father. You know what it's like. At least you have your mother.”
“She took her responsibility seriously, always saw that I had the best boarding schools.” She plucked a strand of grass and snapped it between her fingers.
How to explain Chiara that wouldn't make her sound worse than she was?
“My father was much older than she was. I am what is commonly referred to as an
accident
. Mother—Chiara—was something of a free spirit, but I don't believe she ever wanted children.”
“Did she remarry after your father's death?”
“Before, actually. Chiara's been married more times than I can remember. All of her husbands were wealthy, and all hopelessly in love with her. She manages to keep them in her power even after she leaves them for someone new.” She chuckled. “A talent I've never mastered.”
“Have you ever been married?”
Elena laughed. “No, although, I have been asked. I'm not certain I'm the marrying kind of woman.”
Orion lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her. “I thought every woman was the marrying kind.”
“You should know better than that.”
Elena started and turned toward to see who had spoken. Her eyes widened in surprise. She blinked, not certain that she wasn't dreaming. But, of course, she was dreaming, wasn't she?
At the edge of the forest stood a white pony with a long, flowing mane and tail, and on the pony's back sat a child. No, Elena corrected herself, not a child, a small woman dressed all in green, a woman more beautiful than Elena had ever seen.
Elena scrambled to cover herself with her clothing. Neither she nor Orion had bothered to dress after they'd come out of the pool, and by the shadows, the afternoon had grown quite late. He seemed to be completely at ease, despite his state of total nudity.
“Brigantia.” Orion smiled and executed a courtly bow. “I was wondering when you'd discover that you had visitors. Elena, this is Brigantia.”
Elena struggled to find her voice. The pony looked at her with large, liquid brown eyes, but the beautiful childwoman with the shoulder-length, red-gold hair and the haughty expression kept her attention firmly fixed on Orion.
“You seem to have made yourselves at home,” Brigantia said.
Elena couldn't tear her gaze away from her. She had a high, sweet voice, like that of a five-year-old child, and she couldn't have stood much taller than one of seven or eight. She wore a forest green tunic of velvety material, tight leggings that ended in high leather boots, and on her head perched a Robin Hood hat with a red feather. A child-size bow and a quiver of arrows were slung across the back of the saddle. But, strangely, the pony wore no bridle or halter. Brigantia seemed to guide the animal using only the pressure of her knees.
“We've not seen you for a long time,” Brigantia continued, still looking at Orion. “And now, you come seeking refuge for this woman, and bringing danger to our world.”
“I was hoping you'd see it differently,” he said. “I thought you would gladly give her sanctuary.”
“At what cost?” She shrugged. “It's not my decision alone. But for me, you can take her home with you.”
“Brigantia! Is this any way to greet our guests?” The boughs parted and a second pony, a black one, pushed through into the clearing. The little rider was also female and equally beautiful with long dark hair. Her clothing was much like that of Brigantia's, but on her head, she wore a circlet of wildflowers. She smiled at Orion. “So it's true. It is you. Welcome, Orion. It's been a long time.”
He went down on one knee. “Your Majesty. Elena, may I present to you, Olwen, queen of the fairies.”
CHAPTER 17
“
S
houldn't we take her to the temple?” Morgan at-Stempted to grasp his wife's flailing hand, but Rhiannon flinched away from him and screamed.
“No! No!” she cried. “I know what you want. What you all want. You want to murder me.” Her mouth twisted, and her eyes bulged. “I don't know you!”
“Rhiannon,” Morgan said. “Rhiannon, I'm your husband. I love you. I would never harm you.”
She bared her teeth at him, and bloody foam dripped from the corners of her mouth. “You can't trick me! I have no husband!” She wrested a hand from the grip of a young priestess and attempted to claw Morgan with her fingernails.
Athena shook her head and waved Morgan away from the bed. “She's still bleeding. If we try to move her, she could lose the child.”
“What's wrong with her?” he demanded. “She's never been like this. She was fine when I left this house to meet with the generals. We'd planned an outing with Danu before I have to leave with the troops.”
Ismene took the crown prince's arm and led him from the bedchamber. She was one of the oldest living Atlanteans and one of their greatest healers. A small woman with white hair braided into a crown and a thin diadem of silver around her brow, the priestess retained a timeless beauty and carried herself with the grace of someone much younger. “This is no normal illness,” she said quietly. “I fear Rhiannon has been bewitched.”
Worry etched lines in Morgan's forehead as he glanced back at his wife. “But who would want to hurt her? Rhiannon has harmed no one. She has no enemies.”
“Not
her
they wish to hurt, I think,” Ismene said, “but
you
.”
He turned his back to the doorway and began to question the healer further about this possible bewitchment in a hushed voice.
Danu slipped between her father and the doorframe to creep close to her mother's couch. Rhiannon lay on a great round bed carved from a marble block and cushioned with thick stuffing and coverlets of the finest Fijian sea grasses. On the headboard were carved sea horses and starfish and shells so rare that they came only from a single beach in all the oceans. Her usually pale green coverlet was woven of the finest material, its pattern one that Danu loved to trace with her fingertips. Not now. Now the beautiful spread was tangled and stained with her mother's blood.
Her mother was sick, maybe dying. Daddy had told her to stay away, that Mommy didn't know what she was doing and she might hurt her, but Danu knew better. Her mother was a royal princess, and the best mother in the world. She told Danu every day how much she loved her. Mommy would never do anything to harm her. Besides, even if there was danger, Danu didn't care. She wasn't a baby. She was five, and she had fought with the dolphins against the bad men. Her mother needed her, and no one would keep her away.
Danu circled to the far side of the bed, climbed up on it, and scooted to her mother. Mommy was shouting and waving her arms, trying to get out of bed. Lady Athena saw her and her eyes widened. Danu didn't need her to speak to know what she was thinking. Lady Athena was not only a priestess and a healer, but she was Danu's grandmother. That was a secret, and no one could know but Mommy and Daddy and Danu, and Grandmother.
Grandmother knew lots of things that other people didn't. She and Danu could talk to each other without saying stuff out loud. Danu saw that Grandmother was afraid that Mommy would hurt her, and she was going to chase her away from Mommy. But then Grandmother stopped, stared hard at her, and nodded. Immediately, Danu knew that Grandmother understood.
Danu closed her eyes and concentrated until she saw the sparkling green bubbles all around her. The bubbles began to whirl in a big circle. How warm they were. Danu could hear beautiful music coming from the bubbles. She began to sing, not in Atlantean, but in another language, one she hadn't known that she could speak.
Mommy turned her head, and the bad face melted away. She stopped kicking and trying to hit people and lay still. She smiled at Danu and closed her eyes. Her breathing became soft, and she seemed to go to sleep. Danu rose on her knees and pressed two fingers of each hand to the center of her mother's forehead. It was hard to do what she knew she had to. She continued singing and used all her will to make the bubbles go from her head to her mother's.
“Danu!” Her father came back into the room. He looked angry, but Grandmother put a finger to her lips.
“Let the child be,” Grandmother said. “See how Rhiannon has relaxed.”
Danu didn't take time to explain, partly because she knew that she needed to keep touching her mother and rubbing her head, and partly because she didn't know the words to tell Daddy what she was doing. She loved him more than anything, but he didn't always understand the things that Grandmother did.
“But she may—” Daddy said, coming toward the bed.
“Hush,” Grandmother said. “Your daughter knows what she's doing.”
“But how?” one of the young priestesses asked. She was the one that had been trying to hold Mommy down, but hadn't been doing a very good job of it, because Mommy was strong.
Danu ignored the big girl. She studied in the temple with Grandmother, and her name was Ffraid. She was a lot older than Danu, maybe as old as Morwena, but Danu didn't think she knew so much. She was so scared that Danu couldn't understand what she was thinking, only that Ffraid didn't want to be here.
Danu's head began to hurt, but she could feel the green bubbles slipping through her fingers and into her mother's head. Her mother's mouth stopped frowning and turned up in a sleepy smile, but she didn't wake up. Danu stayed by her side until the last of the bubbles slipped down the invisible slide and pushed back the red cloud that had made Mommy angry.
Finally, Danu withdrew her fingers and yawned. She was sleepy, too. She curled up next to her mother and pulled the clean corner of the coverlet over her. She didn't want to leave Mommy, not even for a minute. She wanted to be next to her, as close as she could.
“What just happened?” Morgan stared disbelievingly at his daughter.
Daddy didn't sound mad at her, and that was good. Danu was so tired that she gave him a sleepy smile, closed her eyes, and let the warm happiness lap over her and her mother.
“The bleeding has stopped, Lady Athena,” Ffraid said.
Athena rose from the edge of her daughter's bed. “Rhiannon is resting for now. I think the best thing we can do for her is to let her sleep.”
“And the baby?” Morgan asked. He dropped to one knee beside the bed and cradled Rhiannon's hand in his. “Do you think the baby will …”
“I don't know,” she answered. “I've heard of this, but I've never seen it. Danu is a powerful …” She shook her head, unable to put a name to what she'd just seen.
“What is she?” Morgan asked. “Priestess? Witch? Fairy?”
“I don't know,” Athena said. “What I do know is that we just witnessed a healing of sorts. Priestesses are born with ability, but most of what they know of the arts is learned. Danu is an innocent. Her ability is natural and must be nurtured.”
“Is it something humans possess?” he asked. “Is it because she was born an air-breather?”
“The only records of such ability come down to us from long ago. Those children carried the blood of the star men. Perhaps your daughter does as well.”
“It's a blessing, isn't it?” he said. “Wherever her powers come from, they've got to be good. She has to be good.”
“A sorceress can cause fire to burn in rock and water. She can turn shells to sting rays and build a palace from a handful of sand.” Athena raised one fair eyebrow. “A small palace, you understand, but a palace nevertheless. But it might not be permanent. It could wash away on the first tide. What Danu has is the gift of healing. It might be something much more powerful than a sorceress's abilities. We must wait and see if it develops, or if it goes away as Danu gets older.”
“But she can help Rhiannon? She
has
helped Rhiannon,” he insisted.
“Yes,” Athena agreed. “She has brought her mother peace and sleep. But whether that will last when the tide turns, only Zeus knows.”
 
Five more riders nosed their ponies into the little glade by the waterfall. All the young creatures were female, and most wore the same sort of clothing and boots that Brigantia and Olwen favored, although two of the girls—who rode sidesaddle—were in bright-colored, silk dresses with full ruffled skirts. None of the women stood any taller than Elena's shoulder, and most were shorter, but all were beautiful and perfectly proportioned. The fat little ponies with the long manes and tails ranged from red sorrels to bays and palominos. Not a single shaggy animal wore a bridle or halter, and each one was so fuzzy and adorable that Elena longed to pet them.
Elena reached for Orion's hand. This was getting stranger and stranger by the moment. If she didn't know better, which she did, she might begin to believe that these cheerful illusions were fairies, but fortunately, she was a realist. This was as much a part of her dream as the wind tunnel, the sharks, and the giant squid. Still, Orion was solid, and it made her feel better to hold on to him.
One of the little women, a girl in lavender perched on a bay pony with purple ribbons plaited into its flowing mane, guided her mount within an arm's length of Elena and Orion and smiled at them. “Welcome,” she said. “I'm Emer, and it would be my pleasure to make you comfortable. If you would please to come with me …”
Elena looked at Orion.
“Go ahead,” he urged. “You'll be perfectly safe. You must be hungry.”
“And she could stand a change of clothing,” Brigantia said. “Hers are a disgrace.”
Elena's remaining garments did leave much to be desired, but she glanced at Orion again. “You're coming, aren't you?”
“Not to the court,” Emer said. Saucy yellow curls bounced as she spoke. “No males are permitted at Olwen's court.”
How odd
, Elena thought. “Thank you,” she murmured. “I'll stay with Orion, in that case. I appreciate your hospitality, but …”
“He'll come to no harm either,” Emer assured her. “Ours is a peaceful kingdom. We haven't cooked or eaten a guest in weeks.” She giggled merrily, letting Elena know that she was teasing. “Don't worry about him. The worst Brigantia will do is make him wear a crown of purple daisies.” As if the matter was settled, Emer clapped her hands and someone led a piebald pony out of the woods.
“Go ahead,” Orion said. “You do know how to ride, don't you?”
“Of course.” Her father had seen that she had lessons. He'd insisted that it was part of a lady's education. “But I've never ridden without a bridle,” she admitted.
He grinned at her. “That won't be a problem. These ponies are well trained. You only need to think which way you want to go, and they'll take you there.”
“As long as it's where it pleases us for you to go.” For an instant, Brigantia's pointed little face seemed to reveal hostility, but then she laughed. “Don't worry. The pony is quite gentle.”
“His name is Peaches,” Queen Olwen said. “He's a favorite of the children.”
Elena looked at Emer and back at Orion. She really was hungry, but she didn't want to be on her own tumbling down this rabbit hole. “Promise me you won't run off and leave me,” she said to him. Orion was the only solid thing she had to hold on to.
“Word of honor,” he said. “Not without proper warning.” He caught her around the waist, lifted her into the air, and set her down on the pony's broad back.
To Elena's surprise, the small saddle seemed to mold itself to her shape, making the seat comfortable. Even the stirrups lengthened to fit her longer legs without any of the little people adjusting them. The piebald pony turned his head and glanced up at her through long thick lashes. For a moment, she had the craziest notion that Peaches was going to speak. But instead, it snorted, and pawed the grass impatiently, as if to say, “Let's go.”
“Come along,” Emer said.
“Yes, do,” cried another girl wearing doublet and hose of canary yellow. “I'm Scota, and I'm a cousin to Queen Olwen.” Her dark hair was braided in a single long plait, and on her feet, she wore red boots with yellow heels. She looked Elena up and down, and mischief sparkled in her blue eyes. “You're very tall, aren't you? But I think I can find you something fitting to wear.”
“That's kind of you,” Elena said, introducing herself to the two. “But there's no need for you to put yourselves out. We won't be staying long.”
And
, she thought,
this is a dream. When I wake up, my own clothing will be intact.
Emer laughed again, a bright peal of sound, and her pony turned back out of the clearing. Scota's mount followed, and the little piebald, Peaches, fell in behind them. Elena looked back over her shoulder at Orion. He grinned at her.
He promised he wouldn't leave me without warning
, she thought.
Why doesn't that make me feel any better
?

Other books

Winter's Touch by Hudson, Janis Reams
The Rivers Run Dry by Sibella Giorello
Sugar & Spice by Keith Lee Johnson
Umbrella Summer by Graff, Lisa
Veiled Intentions by Delores Fossen
Habit by Susan Morse
Yield to Love by Chanta Jefferson Rand
Good In Bed by Jennifer Weiner