Ashes on the Waves (27 page)

The angels are not more pure than the heart of a young man who loves with fervor.

—Edgar Allan Poe,
from “Byron and Miss Chaworth,” 1844

M
uireann had met with Francine and exchanged what she had found for her pelt. Sliding into it didn’t bring the relief she had expected, though. The minute she submerged, she could hear the Na Fir Ghorm celebrating.

They were claiming victory, evidently because of something she had done. Instead of helping her Liam, she had destroyed him.

The Na Fir Ghorm sang her praises and chanted to her success while all she wanted to do was curl up and die. She hadn’t even gotten to say good-bye to him.

“Human love is frail and fickle!” one shouted to the Bean Sidhes, who hovered over the water in golden clouds. “It has failed already.”

“No. The contest is for thirty days. They might still reconcile. Humans have as large a capacity for forgiveness as they do for love. It is not over yet,” a Bean Sidhe answered.

The leader grabbed Muireann by the scruff and pulled her underwater, where the Bean Sidhes could not hear him. “Now you listen to me. You are going to go back up there and take care of this. I want him to fall in love with you so that he won’t go back to that human. Are we clear?” He put his terrible face right in hers. “You will go back up there or I will kill your sister.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw two Na Fir Ghorm grab Keela and drag her under. They exposed their multiple rows of sharp teeth and made as if to bite her.

“What say you?” he asked.

She nodded vigorously.

“The minute we feel like you are not making your best effort to woo him, we will kill her. Do you understand?”

Again, she nodded.

They let Keela free and she darted to the surface and up onto the safety of Seal Island. Muireann knew that even though it was against their laws, the Na Fir Ghorm could go up and kill her anytime they wished, but for now, she was out of their claws.

“You will go now, before they have a chance to work this out. We will win this or you and your pod will die.”

* * *

Deirdre met me at the doors to Taibhreamh. Her face was tear-stained. “Miss Ronan says you and Miss Leighton are not friends anymore and you are not allowed to come here.”

“Sadly, that’s the case.”

Tears welled in her eyes. “I hope it’s not my fault. Miss Ronan made me tell her about Muireann. I didn’t know it would make her mad.”

“No, Deirdre. This is not your fault at all. You did nothing wrong.”

She attempted to smile and sniffed. “I’ve been feeling so bad and sorry.”

“You’ve nothing to be sorry for. Sometimes things just take unexpected turns.”

She handed me my folded jeans and shirt and held out my art portfolio.

“No. Only the clothes are mine.” I nodded to the portfolio. “That belongs to Anna.”

She shook her head. “Miss Ronan said Miss Anna wanted you to take that away too.”

That was probably the worst blow of all. I put the clothes under my arm, took the handle, and tried to smile. “Thank you, Deirdre. I wish you the best.”

“Mr. Liam. I know now that you are not a demon. Demons can’t be nice like you.”

Her words cut to the heart to the hof the matter. I wasn’t a demon. I never had been. I had been brainwashed like all the others. “Thank you.”

She twisted her fingers in front of her apron. “I wish my parents had promised me to you instead of Mr. MacFarley. He really
is
a demon.”

Poor Deirdre. My position was, in many ways, superior to hers. “Miss Leighton will find a way to help you out of that, Deirdre. She’s a great person with a big heart. She won’t let you be hurt.”

At that, she ran to me and wrapped her arms around my waist, sobbing. I longed to join her, to just break down and cry until I ran dry. Instead, I remained passive, holding my clothes under my arm and my portfolio by the handle while she drenched my shirt with tears.

Storm clouds loomed low and threatened to break loose at any moment. I made it home before the first drops fell, which was good because the portfolio was not waterproof—not that it really mattered. I never planned to open it again. I tossed it in the corner and dropped my clean clothes in a chair.

The Bean Sidhes decided to shriek right about the time the rain started, which, of course, was when I had closed my eyes to sleep. I wanted just a small slice of oblivion, and instead I got bedlam. “Stop it. I’m done!” I shouted, sitting up. “I don’t care who killed my mother. I don’t care who killed Anna’s uncle. It doesn’t matter to me anymore.” Nothing mattered to me anymore. “Leave me be.” Through the window, a huge shaft of lightning spread in horizontal tendrils across the sky. In that flash, I saw something . . . or someone in the yard.

I slipped out of bed and pulled on my jeans. I hadn’t barricaded my door on the premise that death would be preferable to living without Anna, but now that someone was outside, I regretted that decision. Maybe man’s desire for existence outweighed his need for happiness after all. Perhaps my change of heart was due to some tiny kernel of hope deep in my soul that I was afraid to acknowledge—the hope that Anna would forgive me and come back—an impossible hope.

Another flash of lightning exposed my trespasser. Muireann, completely naked, was stomping around in the rain outside my house. I almost laughed. Francine was right. She was dangerous—probably more dangerous than Connor MacFarley with a rope.

I opened the door and watched her for a moment. She noticed me and stopped. “Hi,” she said.

“What on earth are you doing?”

“I’m dancing in the rain.”

“Why are you dancing in the rain?”

She shrugged. “Because I can and it keeps me warm. You should try it.”

I leaned against the door frame. “Where are your clothes, Muireann?”

Holding her arms out, she grinned. “This is the way I come. Clothes aren’t included.”

I went to my bathroom and returned with a towel. “Come on inside before you catch cold.”

She skipped up to the porch and I wrapped her in the towel. Her manner was so childlike and endearing. My heart pinched a little. She was definitely dangerous.

Clutching the towel, she wandered into the house. I lit several gas lamps and she began examining things. When she reached out to touch a curtain, the towel dropped. I grabbed my clean shirt from the chair and tugged it on over her head. After floundering for the armholes, she continued her perusal of the house. “It’s very different from yferent four female’s dwelling, isn’t it? You must be of a lower caste.”

I sat on the sofa to watch her. She was fascinating. “Yes. Much lower.”

“Why did you choose to be here rather than there tonight?” she asked, looking through a drinking glass in the light from the gas lamp on the table.

“It was not exactly my choice.” The more I watched her, the more convinced I was that this girl was indeed a Selkie. Her manner was totally unnatural for a human. Why, I wondered, had she sought me out?

She put the glass down. “Was it because of me?”

“In part, yes.”

“So does that mean I’m your female now instead of the one from the big house?”

Her forwardness was at the same time enchanting and terrifying. I had to be careful. Nothing from the Otherworld was benign, especially something in packaging this attractive.

“No. That’s not how it works. Displacement alone does not ensure that status.”

She cocked her head to the side. “I have no idea what that means, but it sounds very pretty. You are pretty, Liam.”

“You’re pretty too, Muireann. Why don’t you sit down and talk to me. That’s how this works.” She enthralled me. I actually had the chance to talk to an Otherworlder. To learn about things most humans never encountered.

“Teach me how it works in your world,” she said. “I want to do this right this time. I hurt you last time and that was not my intention.” She sat on the sofa right next to me.

I moved to a chair. “I’m going to sit over here so that I can see your face.”

“Do you like my face?” She ran her fingers over it.

“Very much. Tell me about your family. Where you come from. How you came to be here.”

“I can’t answer most of those.”

“Why not?”

“I’m under oath not to. We can’t share with humans. Why don’t you tell me what you know so far?”

I leaned forward, no doubt in my mind that what I knew was accurate. “I believe you are a Selkie. You are the seal I talked to off the pier. Am I right?

She nodded.

“What I don’t know is why you are here.”

She absently played with a lock of her hair. “I am here to help you.”

“Help me what?”

A blank look crossed her face. Then her brow furrowed. “Well, my objective changed, actually. At first, I came to help you stay with your female. But that’s not what I’m doing now.”

“What exactly are you doing now, Muireann?”

I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t what she did. She crossed to me and stood there for what seemed like forever, head tilted to the side, studying me with her huge eyes.

“Your female doesn’t want you anymore, but I do. I’ve loved you my whole life, my Liam, from the first time I saw you as a child in the boat with the man you called Pa, I loved you.”

I had only gone out with Pa a couple of times and only one was memorable. “You’re the seal that nearly tipped the boat over. You kept me from being beaten.”

She felt for me the way I had always felt for Anna. My heart ached not only at my own loss, but also at her unrequited longing. I understood that longing.

She took my good hand and pressed her lips to the inside of my palm. Her breath was warm and sent tingles down my arm and along my spine. I closed my eyes, knowing I should stop her. But why? Anna didn’t want me. She had used me and lied to me.

Muireann kissed her way up my arm, over my shoulder, and up my neck. When her lips met mine, she moaned and my entire body reacted. Anna didn’t want me, but this girl did. She always had. Like I had always wanted Anna.

Like I
still
wanted Anna.

“Stop,” I said, pushing her gently away. “I can’t.”

“What? Why? Am I doing it wrong?” She ran her fingers through her wet, tangled hair. She looked wild and exquisite and completely Otherworldly. Perhaps one of the most beautiful things I’d ever seen and my body ached for her. But my heart was an entirely different matter.

“You are doing it exactly right.” I gestured for her to sit again and she did. “It has nothing to do with you. I love Anna. I always have. I always will.”

“Like I have always loved you.”

“Yes.”

She stared at her hands in her lap awhile. “But she doesn’t want you anymore.”

“No. But I still love her. There will never be anyone for me but Anna. No matter how long I live or how I die, she will always be in my heart.”

Her dark eyes met mine and I had to look away. Her pain mirrored my own and neither of us had the capacity to heal the other. Not without compromising ourselves.

She took a deep breath. “Human hands are fascinating. So useful. I like feet too. My feet are very pretty.”

I laughed. “Yes, they are. You’re a lovely human.”

She smiled. “I am a lovely seal too. I much prefer it. Humans are confusing. You hide your feelings and thoughts like you hide your bodies.”

“I’ve been very open with you about my feelings and thoughts.”

“With me, maybe.” She got up and walked straight to the portfolio. “But not with your female. You need to tell her how you feel. Maybe she would want you again.” She ran her hands over the leather. “What’s this?”

“Nothing important.”

“Oooh. A zipper. My great-aunt told me all about zippers.” She unzipped it and laid it open. It was empty except for a single small sheet of paper. “I can’t read,” she said. “You read it.”

The handwriting was bold and tilted strongly to the right—very unlike the script in the letter to Nicholas.

Dear Liam,

I took your drawings to New York with me. I rolled them up and put them in a mailing tube because it was safer and easier to carry them that way. I hope you don’t mind. I know our lawyer will find a broker for them. Like I said, you’re crazy talented.

Know that I love you, Prince Leem, and can’t wait to get back to this crappy island so I can be with you again.

>
Forever,

Anna

P.S. My cell number is below if you ever get bored.

“What does it say?” she asked, sitting on the floor and zipping and unzipping the portfolio.

“It . . .” The letter to Nicholas was not from Anna. It had been a trick. The whole horrible truth crashed through my mind. I had betrayed her by not believing in her when she stood by me at the lighthouse even in the face of overwhelming evidence. “It says I am a fool.”