Seer of Sevenwaters (37 page)

A brief silence followed this statement, which was delivered in a voice both confident and strong. From where I stood with Svala near the doorway, I could see that Felix had his hands clutched together behind his back to conceal their shaking.

“Five coppers says I can get him fit in time,” called out Gull, a grin spreading across his dark features. “Any takers?”

There was a roar of laughter, followed by a chorus of offers. If these men liked anything it was a wager. Thus the meeting ended in a spirit of goodwill. Whether that feeling would continue once everyone had time to think about what lay ahead remained to be seen.

Not everyone in the hall was diverted from the matter in hand by Gull’s moment of humor. Cathal always looked somber, but today he seemed to be walking under a personal shadow. I wondered what had provoked his apology to Felix last night, when he had spoken of misjudging him. Gareth was not his usual cheerful self. I put that down to lack of sleep; but perhaps he sensed an impending parting. If no other likely leader for the voyage offered his services, Gareth might feel honor bound to volunteer, taking on a duty Johnny could not perform himself. Such was the complicated bond of loyalty between this pair who were lovers, best friends and fellow warriors. My sisters were very quiet. Nobody had mentioned that I, too, would be traveling on
Liadan
, cramped conditions, trackless ocean, limited supplies and all. There were still some battles to be won.

“Svala, we can go now,” I murmured, motioning to the outdoors. “Come with me.” I felt in her trembling grip a powerful need for flight. But I kept my hold on her until we were out in the yard, the two of us momentarily alone. “It’s all right,” I said, holding her with my hands and my eyes. “You will be safe now. Knut is not coming back to your cottage, or to your bed, unless you want that. And we will take you home.” I willed her to understand me; I made pictures in my mind, simple pictures I hoped would make sense to her. We stood there until other people began coming out of the dining hall. Their voices broke my concentration, and the link was gone. I felt suddenly drained. My knees had no strength. “Go now, if you want,” I said, releasing Svala’s hands.

She was off in a flash, running down toward the bay in her bare feet with her hair streaming out behind her. Had I seen a smile before she turned away?

“Sibeal!” Clodagh was there beside me, holding my arm, keeping me upright. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’m a little dizzy. I need to sit down.”

“Come back inside, let me get you some mead—”

“I’m fine, Clodagh . . . ”

“Rubbish, you’re about to faint. Now do as you’re told.”

Spots danced before my eyes; I felt sick. Quite clearly, my legs were not going to carry me anywhere. I allowed my sister to steer me to a bench outside the hall, where I sat with my head bent over my knees, waiting for the weakness to pass. In the light of that man’s comment about Felix not being fit enough to travel, this was unfortunate. It became even more unfortunate when Johnny came out of the hall and moved to crouch down beside me. “Are you ill, Sibeal?”

I shook my head. A bad idea; my stomach roiled. “No, I’m . . . it’s just . . . with Svala, it can be exhausting . . . ”

“Clodagh will take you over to the infirmary to rest,” Johnny said. “After last night, this is not surprising. Sibeal, you and I need to talk later. I’ll come and see you when you’ve had some sleep.”

“I need to go,” I said with my eyes shut. “The gods . . . ”

“Shh,” Johnny said. “We’re going to do this calmly, carefully, with the best preparation we can. Time enough to talk when you’ve rested. Could you walk now?”

People were streaming out of the hall and back to their work. The eyes of every potential crew member of
Liadan
might be on me. “Of course,” I said, rising to my feet and feeling the earth tilt beneath me. “I’ll just—” I took one step, then fell into darkness.

I woke in my little chamber, feeling perfectly well though still somewhat weary. I lay there awhile, looking at my charcoal runes and wishing very much that I had not demonstrated such weakness in public. I could remember little after I fainted, but I did have a dim recollection of someone carrying me, and Clodagh tilting a cup of water so I could drink. The light around the door suggested it might be midafternoon. I must get up, dress, prepare myself. Some time today I would have to present my case to Johnny; I had no doubt that was what he wanted to discuss with me. My collapse was not going to make things any easier. Perhaps I should be asking Gull to train me as well as Felix.

It was very quiet in there. Maybe everyone was catching up on sleep. I got out of bed, picked up my shoes and pulled the curtain aside.

The only person in the infirmary was Felix, and he was not asleep but standing by the hearth looking straight at me, as if he had been waiting for me to emerge. I wished I had brushed my hair before I came out. I wished . . . And then, without thinking much about it at all, I walked straight across to him, and he opened his arms, and I went into them. He had held me once before, briefly, but this was different. It felt like coming home from a long journey, and at the same time it felt like the first day of spring, when all the beauty and possibility of the season lies ahead. We stood there without speaking a word, his arms around my shoulders, mine around his waist, my cheek against his heart, his fingers moving against my hair.
I will not think beyond this moment
, I told myself.
I will store this up to remember always.

It was Felix who stepped back first, taking my hands in his and lifting them to his lips for a moment. “You look pale,” he said in a voice that was markedly unsteady.

I had thought my cheeks might be as bright as rosebuds. My blood was surging; inexperienced as I was, I recognized the signs of desire in my body. “I’m quite well,” I said, but in truth I was confused, troubled and perilously happy all at the same time. “I was tired, not sick. I must have been sleeping for ages—where is everyone? Did you rest?” I heard myself babbling, filling the silence with empty words. I made myself stop. I sat down on the bench by the hearth, and Felix sat beside me, holding my hand. His touch warmed me all through. I could not make myself withdraw my fingers from his clasp, though it seemed to me I should, for what had just occurred between us must not be encouraged.

“I worked with Gull for a while, then he sent me back here to rest. But I have not slept; my mind is too full for that. Gull has gone down to the married quarters to sleep. He was struggling to stay awake. Evan and Muirrin are talking to Johnny. And I am here, as you see. Waiting for you to wake up, Sibeal.”

After what had just happened, I felt oddly shy with him. “You seem different,” I said.

“I am the same man I was yesterday.”

“Stronger. More sure of yourself. Yesterday, I would have thought you could never be ready in time to make such a voyage. Today, I don’t doubt that you will be.”

“Johnny believes me,” Felix said. “That makes all the difference. If I seem stronger to you, that is good. I must convince every man who goes on the mission that I can play my part.” He hesitated. “Sibeal . . . there is something I must say to you. I think it will not please you.”

I had no idea what he meant. I hoped he was not about to say anything that would spoil the memory of his arms around me, his tender touch, the touch not of a friend, but of a lover. I could still feel it, a gift, a promise, a rare thing to be cherished, wrong as it was.

“Sibeal,” he went on, “I believe in you, I believe in your capacity to guide this. Who else can interpret for Svala? Who else can hear the voices of the gods? I understand why it is important for you to come on the voyage. The runes do not lie. If you were a stranger to me, I suppose I would think what most of the island folk will think: that you cannot possibly have the strength to endure such a mission. The people of Inis Eala know you are strong in spirit, wise beyond your years. They also saw you faint away this morning. They see how slight you are, how delicately made. How could they imagine you on a ship sailing through mountainous seas toward an isle of myths and monsters?”

“I know that, Felix,” I said. “But I don’t need to convince the entire population of Inis Eala that I’m more than a helpless young girl. I only need to convince one person: Johnny.”

Felix did not reply, simply sat there looking at me.

“Go on, then. Say it, whatever it is.”

He cleared his throat. “Sibeal, I do not want you to come on the voyage.”

It hit me like the punch of a hard fist. Any trace of druidic calm left me; I felt winded. “
What?
” I said, springing to my feet.

“Sibeal, I speak not as the man who shared that runic divination, but as the man who held you in his arms only a heartbeat ago. The mission is too perilous. You should not go.” He reached to take my hands again, but I folded my arms. My heart had become a cold stone.

“How can you say that?” It was not the voice of a serene druid, but the shaky tone of the vulnerable girl who fainted when overwhelmed; the quivering voice of the young woman who had melted in his arms a few moments ago. I was losing myself. This could not be allowed to happen.

“Sibeal, let me explain, please. All I am trying to do is be honest with you, but . . . ”

“But what, Felix?”

“You’re angry. I have upset you.”

“I thought you believed in me. I thought you were the one person who trusted me completely. I thought you saw my strength and not my weakness.” Oh gods, now I was crying. “I thought you understood.”

“Oh, Sibeal.” He reached up to brush the tears from my cheek, and I shut my eyes, unable to bear the naked feeling on his face. There was such tenderness in his touch, I could not armor my heart against it. I knew I should step away, but my feet refused to move. “Sibeal, please listen. I believe in you. I know why you must come on the voyage. If you wish, I will support you when you speak to Johnny. But . . . now that it seems this journey might be real, that we might actually go there and find them, I cannot stop thinking of what might happen to you. If you were killed, if I lost you, I think my heart would break. I weigh it up—your death against the rescue of the men we left—and I begin to doubt the wisdom of the mission. I cannot doubt. I must do this for Paul.”

My eyes were open now. “Oh, Felix,” I said, and I put my hand against his cheek. “Don’t think that. Don’t doubt.” His hand came over mine. “Besides,” I made myself say, “I’m destined for a future in the nemetons. We’ll be saying goodbye at the end of summer, whatever happens.”

Felix closed his eyes. His voice was so quiet, he might have been speaking for himself alone. “That makes no difference,” he said. “It cannot alter what I feel.”

And despite myself, I knew this for the deepest kind of truth; for the same conviction had awoken in my own heart. “I know,” I murmured. “And I’m sorry.”
Sorry for you. Sorry for myself; oh, so sorry.

“Sorry that you met me?” Felix was trying for a smile, without much success. “Or sorry that we must risk our lives together, for a mission with such small likelihood of success?”

“I will never be sorry that I met you, Felix. It was . . . a privilege. A gift. As for the mission, I trust the gods. They’ve shown us we can achieve this if we are brave enough. And we can be very brave, the two of us. The day you were washed up on the shore here, we proved that.”

“You are brave, Sibeal. I, not quite so courageous. Twice you have saved my life, once on the shore and once last night, with your . . . diversion. I hope I can be brave enough to take you into danger and still act with balance and wisdom. I hope my terror for you does not paralyze me.”

“When I was a little girl,” I told him, swallowing tears, “sometimes my sisters would tell me I did too much thinking, when I should have been running about and climbing trees. Right now, we’re probably both doing too much thinking. If we trust each other, we’ll get through this. Other considerations don’t matter.”

Someone was coming; I heard footsteps outside and the rattle of the back door.

“Sibeal?” Felix murmured.

“Mm?” My fingers brushed his cheek, moved away.

“You have shown me both your strength and your weakness,” he said. “That, too, was a privilege. It was a gift of great worth. More than I deserve.”

Then, as Muirrin came in carrying a basket, with Evan close behind, Felix stood up and moved away, and I turned my back, finding myself quite unable to enter into an ordinary conversation. Feeling the opposite of brave, I mumbled something about the bathhouse, headed out the front door and fled.

I allowed myself the luxury of a long soak. Clodagh washed my hair for me and lent me fresh clothing, a skirt and tunic of her own weave in two shades of green. She did not ask if I had been crying. Indeed, she seemed unusually distracted, and not in the mood for talk. When I was clean and tidy I went out walking. I would talk to Johnny when I came back. Fang was still down on the jetty. Not far from her, two lads were fishing with hand lines. As I watched, one of the boys threw a small fish, and the dog caught it with the ease of long practice. Fang would not starve before her beloved Snake came home.

On the cliff path, halfway to the north point, I found Cathal sitting on the rocks looking out to sea. With his dark cloak wrapped around him and his black hair lifted off his long face by the afternoon breeze, he looked like a sorrowful prince from an ancient tale. As I came up he shifted over to make room so I could sit beside him. We watched the play of wind and water for a little, and then he said, “They’re alive, Sibeal. At least three of them.”

Perhaps I should not have been shocked, but I was. “You went to the seer’s cave?”

Cathal sighed. “There seemed no choice. I can’t let men put their lives at risk over this if it might be a pointless mission. Not when I possess the ability to summon a true vision. Yes, I made use of the scrying pool. I saw the three survivors in a cave, high up among the crags. That isle is a desolate place. They had a few supplies: some kind of large covering that they were using for warmth, one or two other things—I don’t suppose Knut and his friends paused to reload what had been taken from the ship before they put back out to sea. The three I saw were . . . not in good condition. I hope
Liadan
gets here soon.” A shiver ran through him. “Sibeal, that place is just as it was in my dreams. It makes me wonder who, or what, had the power to bring those dreams to Inis Eala. That’s a remarkable gift, if gift it can be called. Someone has drawn us into the shadow of his own nightmares. Or hers.”