Chapter 6 A New Adventure
A New Adventure
Fen walked behind Ember and put his hand on her shoulder, steadying her as she swayed on her feet. Her center of gravity had all but disappeared, and she couldn’t figure out which way was up. Her parents were dead, drowned at sea during a storm. She was an orphan.
So, how was it that her mother was now standing in front of her?
Ember shook her head. “I-I don’t...” Her voice shook as she gripped the pendant around her neck. “I don’t understand.”
“Mo Stór,” the woman whispered, her eyes glistening with tears, “you’re alive.”
Ember sucked in a breath and clamped her eyes shut.
My treasure. That was what her mother had called her every day for six years.
Her chest shook as tears slid down her cheeks.
She took two steps and collapsed in her mother’s arms. Her chest heaved as she sobbed into her shoulder, gripping her shirt with all of her might like she very well might disappear again if she let go.
“You’re dead,” she whispered again, as she shook her head. “I watched you die.”
She had never talked in depth about that day to anyone—not fully.
She gave everyone the cliff notes version, but she kept the details to herself.
She didn’t like reliving the fear on her mother’s face as she was washed out to sea, choking on the salty water as waves crashed over her head.
She didn’t want to remember the way her father looked atop the jagged rocks on the beach—broken and bloody—or how cold he already felt when she curled up next to him and begged the stars to save him.
Her father had been thrown to shore first, salt water already in his lungs and his lips blue.
His green eyes were lifeless as Ember beat her tiny hands against his chest, sobbing and retching as she coughed the salt water out of her own lungs.
Her mother never washed up on the rocky beach, and Ember always assumed the waves had pulled her under, claiming her as their own.
“For the longest time, I wanted to be,” her mother whispered, as she stroked her cheek with the back of her hand. “I’ll explain everything, my love.”
“Come in, Aoife.” Otto motioned toward the living room as Eira nodded her head.
“I’ll put on some tea,” she mumbled and turned to walk out of the kitchen, wiping the tears off her cheeks. Ember’s heart sank as she watched her walk away, ignoring the fact that there was already tea waiting in the den.
“Em, come on,” Fen whispered, as he grabbed her hand and led her toward the living room.
Ember sank into the couch beside Fen as he held her hand tightly, an anchor in this storm of emotions she wasn’t prepared to weather.
Aoife’s face fell, but Ember couldn’t move from her seat—couldn’t make herself move to cling to her mother’s side.
“I know this must come as a shock to all of you,” Aoife said, as she sat in the chair by the fire and crossed her legs. “I was equally as shocked when I found out Ember was alive and on Ellesmere.”
“And you’re waiting until today to seek her out?
” Otto asked, as he crossed his arms over his chest. The seriousness in his voice made the hair on Ember’s neck stand on end.
There was no laughter in his voice, just grit—ire radiating off his body like a billowing furnace.
A fiery determination to protect his family.
And fear.
“If I had known she was here, I would’ve been here sooner,” Aoife said, as she gave a small smile.
Ember squeezed Fen’s hand one last time before he let go. It was the way they communicated with each other, something Fen had started doing after their encounter with Rowan the school year before. It was how they silently told each other they were there, no matter what.
Ember furrowed her brow. “I’ve been here for a year,” she replied. “Why did it take you a year to find me? I’ve been right here.” Her voice shook and bottom lip trembled as she squeezed her hands together in her lap.
“After the storm,” Aoife breathed, “I woke up on a beach in Scotland. How I managed to get that far and live, I’m not sure, but when I woke up and was tended to by a doctor, they told me you were dead.
I phoned the authorities, and they told me you and your father had died.
I went back to Galway as fast as I could.
” She choked on a sob as tears welled in her eyes.
“I identified your body and your father’s.
You were both... dead. So, I went back to Scotland to start over, to try to start fresh and forget about…
” Her voice trailed off as her throat bobbed, and Ember felt like she had been hit by a truck.
Dead. Her mother thought she had been dead, all these years.
Ember shook her head. “I’ve been in foster care since I was six.” She couldn’t think of the right words to say—everything felt wrong on her tongue.
Aoife stood up and walked to the couch, sitting beside Ember and taking a breath.
“Both bodies were so mangled, it was almost impossible to identify, but they said they found you beside your father on the beach.” Aoife stroked Ember’s hair as she bit her lower lip.
“She had your fiery red hair and a million freckles, the same bright green coat and your little pink life jacket.” She closed her eyes, like the memory was causing her physical pain.
“I am so sorry, my love.” She ran her hand down Ember’s cheek.
“I never stopped praying that you would come back to me.”
Tears streamed freely down Ember’s face as she allowed herself to fall apart in her mother’s arms. She had dreamed for years that she would feel this again, that she would hear her voice and watch the way her hazel eyes twinkled as she smiled.
It had been a reoccurring dream she’d had on repeat since she was six years old.
And now it was real.
Eira let out a shaky breath as she walked toward the coffee table.
“Tea is ready. I’ll get the biscuits in the kitchen,” she said gently, giving Ember a sad smile.
Her eyes were rimmed red and puffy, and Ember’s chest ached as she realized what would probably be one of the happiest days of her life would likely be one of Eira’s saddest.
“Thank you, Eira.” Aoife smiled. “Let me help.”
”No,” Eira replied, her smile tight, “no, thank you. I’ll just be a moment.”
“You okay?” Fen whispered, as he squeezed Ember’s hand. He held tight to her, almost like if he let go, she would slip away forever.
“I think so.” She nodded.
“I’m sorry to barge in on you this way,” Aoife said from the chair by the fire.
Her legs were crossed daintily one over the other, one hand in her lap and the other sipping her cup of tea.
Her mannerism reminded Ember of Killian—poised and elegant, the perfect example of aristocratic grace.
It was jarring. So far from the warm mother she remembered.
But then again, maybe the memory of a six-year-old wasn’t one to be trusted.
“I do apologize if I’ve interrupted anything,” she continued.
Fen stiffened, like he wanted to tell her what exactly she had just interrupted, but Ember cut in before he had the chance.
“So, what does this mean?” Ember sniffed as she wiped the moisture off her eyes. “Now that you’re here, what happens?”
“If you’re alright with it,” Aoife smiled, “I would like to take you home.”
Ember felt Fen’s grip tighten around her fingers as she heard the breath leave his chest. Her own chest simultaneously swelled and ached.
This was the only true home she had known in ten years.
It was the only place she had ever lived that felt like more than a limbo she was waiting in till it was time for the next place.
The Kitts’ farm made her feel safe and warm, like she’d always imagined home would feel.
But her parents—her mother… Was this why she felt so stuck? Why the adoption never felt completely right? Because somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew this story wasn’t over?
“Back to Scotland?” she asked quietly. The thought of leaving this island, leaving Heksheim, made her stomach sour.
Aoife shook her head with a light laugh. “Our family home is on the other side of the island. We’ll be living there.”
Ember blew out a breath of relief. “I would love that, Mum.” She smiled, and it was the truth. She had imagined a moment where her parents would walk through the door and take her home since she was six years old, and now, here she was.
“Wonderful.” Aoife smiled as she looked around the room. “Would you be at all opposed to coming home with me now?”
Home.
Ember bit her lip as she looked toward Fen, then Otto and little Maeve. The latter seemed to be holding back tears as her bottom lip wobbled. Ember chest felt like it might cave in, the sorrow mixed with joy almost unbearable.
“Would it be okay if I finish the school week?” she asked, as she clasped her fingers in her lap, trying to keep from fidgeting. “It would give me time to pack.”
And time to say goodbye.
“Of course.” Aoife nodded, something like sadness flashing through her eyes. “I’ll go home and begin preparing your room.”
My room.
She smiled as she stood up and headed toward the door, Otto following closely behind. Ember gave her a hug as Otto opened the door for her, and Aoife gave her a gentle kiss on the forehead. When the door swung open, Thea was on the other side, shock painted across her perfect face.
“The ferry was late,” she said, as her eyes went back and forth between Aoife and Ember. “I seem to have missed a very important development.”
“Aoife Lothbrok,” Aoife said, as she stuck out a hand to shake Thea’s. “It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.”
Thea’s eyes widened as she looked between the mother and daughter. “How lovely to meet you, Mrs. Lothbrok,” she replied. “I’m sorry I didn’t realize…”
“That I was alive?” Aoife smirked, and Thea’s cheeks turned bright red.
“For lack of better words.” The social worker nodded. Her eyes trailed to Ember, and they quickly grew misty, though her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.