Sea Lord (35 page)

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The earth groaned. The tower trembled. Conn shifted his weight on the castle wall, riding the swell like a

man on the deck of a ship.

His world was already shaken when Lucy left.

The demons’ work would only finish the job.

He gazed out over the horizon, a void where his heart used to be.

Griff climbed the wall to stand beside him. “They are gone?”

Conn nodded without speaking. The ship that bore Iestyn, Madadh, and the others had gradually

disappeared from view, fleeing south before the wind he had summoned to carry them away. He had

dispatched the ship at dawn, as soon as the first rumble made itself felt through the castle stones. There

had been no time for long instructions, no delay for farewells, no interval for Kera’s pleas to stay and aid

in Sanctuary’s defense. She was a talented weather worker. Better to preserve her gifts if the island fell.

At Conn’s insistence, she had boarded the boat, seething with resentment and distress. Iestyn had been

pale, Roth subdued. Conn had known the children from the time he had taken them from their human

families, from the time they had played with the hound’s many-times-great-grandsire on the rushes of the

hall. They carried Sanctuary with them, a few small, precious objects for remembrance. They carried

Conn’s prospects for the future and a closely guarded portion of his heart. They carried his dog, tied

shivering and barking to the rail.

It was unlikely that Conn would see them or that they would see Sanctuary again.

He watched until their sails slipped out of sight, lost in the hazy blue curve of the sea, sailing south toward

the Azores. And then he turned and looked to the west, where Lucy had gone, taking his soul and his

hopes with her. He watched the ocean where Gau and his cohorts labored under the earth, applying

pressure to turn the sea itself against Sanctuary.

Griff stirred as another rumble vibrated through the stones at their feet. “My prince, you are not safe up

here. Come down.”

Conn shook his head without taking his eyes off the ocean. “Not yet.”

The castle would not yield to the quake.

It would fall, if it fell, to the sea.

“What are you going to do about Lucy?” Regina asked.

Lucy looked up in mild annoyance. “I’m still here.”

Forever
, she thought, and shivered with loss and grief.

“No, I meant . . .” Regina’s thin face flushed. “The one upstairs.”

Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “Damned if I know.”

“Don’t look at me,” Dylan said. “I never made a
claidheag
. I don’t have the power. But I think she’s

supposed to wither away when she isn’t needed anymore.”

“Perhaps she is still needed,” Margred suggested.

Dylan raised an eyebrow. “Needed?”

“By your father,” Margred said gently.

“Oh, Christ,” Caleb said. “This will blow his mind.”

“Or knock him off the wagon,” Dylan said.

Lucy bit her lip. She remembered their father’s face as he kneeled on the floor of the hall—“
What the

hell did you do to her?
”—as he cradled the corn maiden in his arms. Her heart wept for him. For Conn.

For herself.

What the hell had she done?

Caleb rubbed the back of his neck. “Maybe not. He’s been going to his AA meetings. And last time I

checked, Lucy—the other one—was still breathing.”

“Yeah, but magic can’t keep her alive indefinitely,” Dylan said.

Margred looked at them both in dark-eyed reproof. “There is another magic that might.”

“What magic?” Dylan asked.

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Regina poked him in the ribs.

Lucy hugged her arms to herself. “Love,” she said quietly. “Love could save her.”

In the silence, a candlestick fell and shattered on the hearth.

The windows rattled.

Regina pressed a hand to her stomach. “What was that?”

Somewhere down the road, a car alarm blared, muffled by distance and by snow.

“Felt like a bomb,” Caleb said.

Lucy’s stomach dipped in dread.

“Or an earthquake,” Margred offered.

“An earthquake.” Regina snorted. “In Maine.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Dylan said.

Caleb nodded. “Nineteen twenty-six.”

All the little hairs rose on the back of Lucy’s neck and along her arms. “What are you talking about?”

“Last recorded tsunami on Mount Desert Island was caused by an earthquake in nineteen twenty-six,”

Caleb said promptly.

Regina laughed. “Boys and their fact books.”

But no one else smiled. Looking at Dylan and Margred, Lucy saw a shadow of the same instinct in their

eyes.

Something in Caleb’s words, something in Dylan’s expression, tickled her memory. Griff, his face grave,

hurrying to find Conn in the courtyard, saying . . . What had he said? “
Ronat has discovered a new

vent to the northwest.
”

“An earthquake,” Lucy repeated slowly. “Not a vent? Or a volcano?”

Caleb narrowed his eyes, responding to some clue in her question or her voice. “What difference does it

make?”

“Maybe none,” Lucy said.

That’s what she was afraid of. Maybe there was no difference at all.

The car horn continued to blare an intermittent warning.

In her mind, she saw the glowing line of fire in the caves beneath Sanctuary.

Her lips felt numb. Stiff. “What happens if there’s an earthquake?” she asked. “Here on World’s End.”

Caleb frowned. “Not a lot. Some structural damage. We’re mostly one- or two-story single-family

dwellings. We might get some fires from downed lines or chimneys.”

“Fire?” Margred repeated.

“The island is warded,” Dylan said.

“Now, a bigger danger is an earthquake at sea,” Caleb said. “Depending on the magnitude and the

distance and the tide, you could be looking at some serious flooding then.”

Lucy trembled. She had always dreamed of the sea. The sea and drowning. In her dreams, the oceans

came for her, a hungry wall of water that swept everything, destroyed everything, killed everyone she

loved.

She raised her head and looked at her family.

“Then I know where Gau is coming from,” she said steadily. “I know how he’ll strike. The demons

caused that earthquake. And unless we stop them, they will flood World’s End.”

Lucy watched Caleb anxiously as he ended his radio call. Not because she didn’t expect it to confirm

everything she said. But because she did.

“That was the county sheriff.” Her brother’s voice was grim. The last time she’d heard him speak in quite

that tone, Maggie was missing. “The U.S. Geological Survey is reporting a six point two magnitude

earthquake south of the Bay of Fundy. Damaged cable lines from here to Halifax. They’ve ordered

mandatory evacuations along Penobscot Bay.”

“What about World’s End?” Regina asked.

Caleb’s mouth tightened. “No evacuations.”

“In a fast boat—”

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“Not in the dark. Not through the surge. The first wave will hit us in less than an hour.”

Dylan put his arm around Regina. “What about helicopters?”

“Not in this snow. We couldn’t get more than a few people off that way anyway.”

“I only care about a few.”

“Wait,” Lucy said.

“Can’t,” Caleb answered briefly. “I need to sound the hurricane warning, get everyone up to high

ground.”

“The community center,” Regina said.

Caleb nodded. “Tell your mother. She’s mayor. Get her started making calls. We’ll need volunteers to

get the word out, move folks along.”

“We’ll need food,” Regina said. “I’ll load the catering van.”

“You’re pregnant. You’re not loading anything,” Dylan said.

She patted his cheek. “Fine. You lift, I’ll drive.”

Lucy pushed to her feet. She could feel the pressure building outside her, inside her, the wall of water

bearing down, the power boiling up. “I need Dylan to stay with me. Dylan and Maggie.”

Dylan’s black eyes blazed. “Then you can help load the van. I’m not leaving Regina.”

“Maggie’s going to the community center,” Caleb said. “Where she’ll be safe.”

Lucy’s legs shook under her. All her life, she had shrunk from confrontation. All her life she had given in

to avoid raised voices and hard looks. Until Sanctuary. Until Conn.

“
You are stronger than either of us imagined,
” he had said.

Strong enough to leave him.

Strong enough to do what needed to be done.

Lucy raised her chin and stared down her brothers. “You can’t save them,” she said. “I can.”

“You should listen to her,” Bart Hunter said.

Lucy’s heart thumped. They all turned.

The old man stood in the hallway at the bottom of the stairs, in almost the exact spot where Lucy had

stood however many weeks ago.

“You should trust her,” he said. “That was my problem. I never trusted your mother. I didn’t listen.”

Lucy’s throat ached. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Something flickered in his eyes that might have been sorrow or pride or regret. “You were always a good

girl,” he said and shuffled away.

“Dad,” Caleb called urgently.

Bart stopped.

“You need to get the . . . girl ready to move to the community center,” Caleb said. “My Jeep. Five

minutes, okay? Bring plenty of blankets.”

Bart nodded and continued up the stairs.

Lucy blinked back tears and found Margred watching her. Her sister-in-law’s lips curved in a faint,

approving smile. “Tell us what to do,” Margred said.

Small waves slapped the rocks below the towers of Caer Subai, rushed in, and drained away. Conn

watched them ebb and flow, ebb and . . .

Ebb again.

He sucked in his breath through his teeth, fear cold in the hollow where his heart had been. It had begun.

“Call the wardens,” he ordered quietly.

As Griff ran to obey, Conn watched the water crawl away from the shore, exposing the fragile

communities that live at the water’s edge, crabs and mussels and shining weed, barnacles and starfish

abandoned by the grumbling tide.

And still the water drained away, drawing down, pulled by the waves still building out at sea, the

powerful waves of displaced water created by the demons’ activity offshore. Soon those waves would

reach the shallower waters around the island; and then the roaring flood would crest and fall on

Sanctuary.

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