The Secret of the Emerald Sea (19 page)

Chapter Forty-Seven

The house was dark when Blake’s mother heard his key turn in the heavy lock upon the front door. She had been waiting for him, and crying, and thinking of the man she loved. The man she’d grown apart from over time. She
had
loved him well, though they never really
knew
one another the way a married couple should.

The years ahead of her seemed like a test now, a test of her strength and her ability to survive. She wanted for nothing, but she would always remember the stone face of her husband who seemed to cry out desperately for her help, and she
had not been there
. He had been so alone. She cried hot tears into her pillow.
I have Blake, at least
, she thought wearily.

Thank God for that
.

* * * *

Blake went into the kitchen, suddenly eager to brew a cup of Liesel’s tea. It smelled heavenly. He wondered if it really would help him sleep. He’d heard of such herbal potions, but he’d never tried them. The girl had been so quiet and kind. He did not think there was any risk here. Herbs such as these were used by so many people...they weren’t magical.

He needed to forget tonight. As he poured the contents of the kettle over the leaves, the scent of lavender that was
Jane’s own scent
rose in the aromatic steam and soothed his soul. The kitchen was filled with its sweet perfume. Why he trusted this new girl, he did not really know. It was odd, as he trusted no one but his mother—and Jane?— but he felt he was safe drinking the brew she gave to him. He could not really say why.

Since his mother had always been so gentle and sweet, he trusted women most of all. He supposed this was part of the reason. Men were harder for him to understand. Fathers with their judgments, doctors with their metal instruments...women had always seemed clearer and simpler and gentler, and men had never brought him much comfort or joy. Sadly, his father had always made him unhappy, but his death did not seem to hurt any less for all of that. Indeed, it seemed to make it hurt
more
.

He walked to his room with his tea. The house was silent and dark...all the servants were asleep, or pretending to be so. Everyone was frightened, and it would be his role now to oversee them and to soothe their fears. No more would he have time to lie on his bed and recite sonnets or read plays. He was a man now, and he hated that, too.

The tea was delicious. He wondered at the blending of flavors. Aside from the hint of lavender, he could not figure out what they were. As soon as he finished his mug, he lay down, still in his clothes from the day, and he fell asleep.

His dreams were strange and vivid. He thought he saw the girl, Liesel, from the square, but she was like a goddess, wrapped in fine white robes, angelic and smiling. She seemed to be an angel beckoning to him, promising love and comfort. He smiled in his sleep, his cheeks flushed, and his body relaxed into a deep slumber that lasted until sunrise.

The next morning he woke, feeling surprisingly rested and calm. The empty teacup had been removed. Blake scrambled up and rummaged in his coat, which a servant had hung up in his closet, to be sure the rest of the tea was still there—it was—and then he washed in the basin of hot water that the maid had left, along with his regular cup of India tea.

He dressed in fresh clothes and went down to his mother and the servants, feeling stiff and formal in a tailored suit and waistcoat. He was truly a lord now, and he must act the part. In order to run the estate and the farms, which now were his, since women could not own property, he must step up to the challenges that lay ahead.

He shuddered to think of his father in heaven, and the way he would disdain him if he were to lose what had been so carefully earned and built. He would make him proud, and then, when the lunch hour drew close, he would go to the farmhouse and see about Jane.

Chapter Forty-Eight

The Cupid was in the forest now with his Jane and they walked across the cold January ground, their legs aching as they trudged through uneven snow and slush. Jane had tried to carry him as much as she could, but she seemed tired, and she was also obviously caught in the blackest despair. Every few minutes, he would glance nervously behind them to be certain they were not followed.

The Cupid tried to change, but it would not come. To fly them both away, perhaps back to the island, or even to the sea, where Jane could find her father again, was the simplest solution to their problems. They would do anything to escape the evil, which still seemed to hang in the very air!

However, he could not change on this day. He was a little boy still. He could not change simply by
wanting
to, and so they walked on, and Jane would pick him up when she had the strength, and put him back down when her body cried out in protest. The worst of it was, they did not know where they were any longer, or where they were going. The forest was vast, and dense with trees.

“What if we went back?”
Jane asked him, desperately. “We could go to Blake’s house, and perhaps, in that fortress or sorts, we could be safe.” The Cupid told her there was no going back, and deep down, he was sure she knew this too. They could both feel the dangers of Lynnshire, and some menace that seemed to follow them like a bloodhound on the scent.

Wishful thinking
, he thought
. That’s all it is, and she knows it
.

When he finally found a cave, they stopped. Perhaps they could use what they had to make a shelter for the night? Would it be safe? He poked his head inside the cave, which was freezing cold and full of sticks and rocks and snow.

* * * *

“More caves,” Jane muttered angrily as she contemplated the new shelter. It reminded her of their cave on the island, truth be told, where they could wake in the morning and run to the shores of the Emerald Sea, basking in the sun and finding pretty shells in the rocky sands. Their old cave had been decorated with driftwood and flowers. This one was like a stony grave.

I miss the island now
, she thought as she picked up debris from the bottom of the shallow cave and thought about how she might make a barrier to the outside so that they could build a fire and warm themselves without the wind putting it out. The night was coming. They had only thin blankets and the heavy cloaks they wore. Neither would keep out the cold. It was vital that they stay here now. There was no time to hope for an abandoned cottage—that would not be safe, anyway—or a better shelter.

She watched as the Cupid toddled out and bundled up some of the sticks Jane had thrown out of the mouth of the cave. He told her a few were dry and would do for a fire. He said the branches outside were all wet from the rains, and they would never dry in the icy cave. Then, he grabbed a rock and sat down on the cave floor. The cold from the stone floor rose up through his body and made him shiver. Cupid grabbed the flint he had brought and struck it with a stone over and over, his blue-gray eyes starting to glow. Jane wondered if he might change. What a help it would be to them if he did. He had told her that any repetitive movement would
always
trigger some small changes in him?

The first branch seemed to burst into flames all at once, and all along its length. Jane watched in disbelief as the whole pile of wood sparked into flames that seemed to burn too high and too bright.

“Get back,” the Cupid barked at her as she came over to pull him away from the leaping flames. “All is well.”

He was right. The flames never smoked or grew too strong, and they never seemed to go out, though the barricade she had made at the mouth of the cave, out of wet branches and leaves, still let in some of the harsh winds.

She huddled close to him, grateful for the warmth that seeped into their numb and frozen bodies. They ate some stale bread and dried meat, and Jane drank from a bottle of wine, though she rarely drank liquor. The wine made her warmer still, but so tired, and so she gathered the Cupid close to her, and they lay on the cold stone cave, and they wrapped themselves in their scant coverings.

The fire stayed lit through that long night. Without it, they would likely have frozen to death. The fire was a gift, she thought, and a sign. The Cupid agreed with her. Jane wondered listlessly whose divine protection allowed it to burn all through the long, miserable night.

Chapter Forty-Nine

Neptune waited impatiently for news of Minerva and Jane. He knew the Goddess of Wisdom had traveled to see the oracle at Delphi, and he wondered if her power would allow her to make use of the Pythia.

“If anyone can understand those riddles, it’s Minerva,” he boasted proudly to
anyone
who would listen. His mermaids smiled becomingly at him as he regaled them with tales of the goddess’ intellect, beauty, and sympathetic nature.

“Neptune adores her,” the mermaids would whispered to one another, giggling, as they combed each other’s hair with brushes made of coral branches, and made necklaces for the errant princess. He could only nod benevolently as he heard them gossip. After all, he was not ashamed to love someone like Minerva.

He knew his mermaids longed for a queen who would bring a feminine touch to the kingdom once more. It had been so long since they had someone to serve besides Neptune himself.

“I am due at council with the other gods this week,” he told his brightest mermaid, who soon shared the news with the others. “Perhaps I will see Minerva there, although something tells me she may be on a ...special mission...for us.” He had saved this tidbit, unsure if he should share his knowledge. All the mermaids were a merry bunch, and not in the least competitive with one another, but they did gossip so much amongst themselves.

“Ooh,” the mermaids sighed in unison, and he smiled. “A mission for Neptune...lucky Minerva. I wonder if she has gone to find our princess and bring her home?”

“I am sure she is,” he answered, smiling. “Imagine how lovely it would be to have her safe with us and prepare for her wedding someday. I have dreamed of it for such a long time.”

“But the army...our men...it’s all dangerous, is it not?” another mermaid asked. Her large, pale green eyes seemed worried.

“Minerva is the wisest of all the gods, although she lacks Jupiter’s power,” he reassured her. “I am sure she would never call out our new army unless it was necessary.”

“Hail to the Princess Jane,” Neptune cried suddenly, and the mermaids brought up her chant. “Hail Minerva!” The sea creatures came and joined in the chanting, each in their own special language, and Neptune smiled at his group.

In two days, he must go to the Sunlit Cloud and sit at council once more. He fervently hoped that Minerva would have succeeded in her task by then so that he would not have to explain just why she was absent from council. In all his centuries of attendance, she had never missed a council meeting, and he knew Jupiter would be furious.

“At least I’ve repaired all the damage to those infernal fishing boats, although the mermaids are a handful.” But he felt guilty. He had started some trouble, indeed, and he knew it, and he had no wish for the great Sky God to find out how he had placed his beloved daughter, his
favorite
child, in such peril.

“Please, please, be safe,” he muttered as the chanting ceased and the mermaids and sea creatures returned to their normal activities. The fish blinked in greeting at they swam past, slowing down to show their respect, for how could a fish curtsy or bow to the king?

The mermen continued to train according to his orders, lifting heavy stones to become stronger, and practicing their walking and running on land late at night, when most humans were sleeping. As yet, they were still awkward on land, but they were improving, and the king had to admit that this was an exciting time indeed. Though he feared the battle to come, he was also invigorated by the sense of purpose it gave him. He now had something to do that wasn’t merely pleasure, which was always enjoyable, but tended to sameness after a while.

His mermaids seemed to notice the new swagger of their men as they swam around them, and they smiled proudly as his army told them all stories of secret exercises on the shores. The new and vibrant spirit of the men inspired much romance and flirting among his courtiers, and this reminded him of Minerva. Neptune encouraged all the batting of eyelashes and jolly conversations, as it meant that, some months from now, there were bound to be more tiny girl and boy creatures born...and ready to serve him.

Neptune had not heard from Minerva by council day, and he dressed with care in his most subdued robes and took his most utilitarian trident as well. The crown he chose was his second-string crown, and it was devoid of engravings and gemstones. He wanted to avoid attention, whereas he normally courted it any way he could. He must protect Minerva, but what could he say? He thought of telling the whole truth, but he was not sure he had the courage.

Then again, Jupiter may have already used his omniscience to see where his daughter was: they were so close, after all. But Jupiter had many cares, and he had to decide on which areas to focus his gifts. Noone, not even a God such as Jupiter, could see everything at once. Neptune decided he would wait and see how the meeting went, and try to keep his head down as best he could.

He floated up to the surface with a heavy heart, and raised his trident high above the water so that it pointed toward the Sunlit Cloud. In an instant, a ray of light caught the diamond set into the tip of the simple, iron scepter, and Neptune floated upward through the prism of light it created. He felt butterflies in his godly stomach as he floated up over the Emerald Sea, and he arrived at the Sunlit Cloud just in time to walk quickly into council and take his appointed seat.