Chapter Twenty
Cailean stared at her, appalled. “What? Ye canna be serious!”
Rose shook her head. “It’s the only way.
I thought his prison had to be resealed but it’s not that at all.
If we do that it will only be a matter of time before he starts to break free again.
A sticking plaster over a wound. But we need to treat the wound.
That’s the only way to save everyone on Barra. ”
No. She’d lost him. “I dinna understand.”
She went up onto her knees, placing her palms flat against his chest and he kept a firm grip on her shoulders in case she swooned again.
Her dark eyes found his, sparkling with that determination he’d come to expect from her.
“The sea god isn’t angry, not really. He’s full of grief and loneliness.
He thinks the way to deal with that is through inflicting his pain on others.
But what if we could ease his grief and loneliness? ”
“And how, exactly would we do that?”
“By showing him he’s not alone. That he’s not lost his love. At least, not all of her.”
Cailean studied her face, watching the way the light danced across her features and the wind swept her dark hair back from her face. He shook his head. “No,” he said. “This is the god talking. He’s bewitched ye like he did the other day. He’s trying to get ye to free him. I willnae allow it.”
“That’s not what happened,” she replied. “Do you trust me, Cailean?”
And that was the crux of it. He had always known that the work of a MacFinnan spellweaver was far beyond him.
Physical enemies he could fight. Mundane problems he could deal with.
But this? Gods and goddesses and magic? This was far beyond his ken.
So now they came to the heart of it: Did he trust her?
Could he put aside his distrust of all things mystical and put his faith in this woman?
The answer was far easier than he’d imagined.
If she’d asked him this when she first arrived, the answer would have been no.
Never. But that had changed. By slow increments his doubt had been eroded.
Bit by tiny bit, his skepticism had died.
Of course he trusted her. He would trust her with his life.
He released his grip on her shoulders. “Ye already know the answer to that, lass. If ye say this is what must be done, then this is what must be done.” He climbed to his feet and held out a hand. Rose took it and he pulled her up. “But I will be right here, guarding yer back.”
A bright smile lit her face before she let out a long breath. “Ready?”
“No. I’ll never be ready. But let’s get started all the same.”
Cailean took his place at her side. Rose turned to face the waves.
She closed her eyes, clasping her hands at her breast. She made no grand gestures, murmured no spells, but Cailean felt it immediately when she accessed her power.
A warmth stole through him, full of peace like a summer breeze.
It was so different to the god’s angry power.
For long moments nothing happened. Then all of a sudden Rose staggered and the sea lit up with stormlights of opalescent green and blue so bright Cailean had to throw up an arm to shield his eyes.
When he looked again, a man was standing on the headland, watching them.
He was tall, taller than Cailean, with the broad shoulders and muscular arms of a warrior.
Pale-blond hair waved around his head as though stirred by an unseen current.
A sword that looked to be made of shell or pearl was strapped to his hip.
Cailean stepped forward, putting himself between Rose and the newcomer. He didn’t have any weapons but he wouldn’t let that stop him. This creature would not harm her. Not while he had breath in his body.
The man regarded them in silence. He looked remarkably human, for a god. It was only the eyes that gave him away. Instead of having iris and pupil, they were pure orbs of silver, like liquid metal.
Rose gripped Cailean’s arm and came to stand by his side. She lifted her chin, faced the man. “I’m—”
She got no further. The man raised his arms and a tempest roared to life around them.
The wind began to howl, buffeting them both and sending their hair and clothes streaming.
Cailean staggered against the force of it, one hand steadying Rose to help her keep her footing.
The sea began to churn. The waves turned choppy, topped with white breakers, and began to slam against the headland with enough force to send up gouts of freezing spray.
“Listen to me!” Rose yelled into the wind. “I need to speak to you!”
But the god didn’t listen. Throwing his arms to either side, he flung his head back and screamed at the sky in a voice like thunder. “Danu, my love! I am come to avenge ye!”
Clouds began to boil across the sky, obscuring the sun and turning the day into twilight. Above them, a roiling storm front formed like a dark bruise and Cailean felt the hairs along the back of his neck stand on end with its power.
“We have to get out of here!” he yelled at Rose.
But she shook her head. “No! I have to get him to listen!” She took a step closer to him, fighting against the wind that almost bent her double.
Cailean went with her, not releasing his grip on her arm. “Rose, this is madness! He willnae listen!”
“He must!” She fixed her gaze on the figure at the center of the maelstrom and bellowed with all her might to be heard over the howling wind, “Mannan, listen to me!”
To Cailean’s surprise, the man’s head snapped around, his silver gaze narrowing as it fixed on Rose. “What did ye call me?”
“That’s your name, isn’t it?” Rose said. “It hasn’t been forgotten. There are still those on this island who remember you, who invoke your name for protection when they take their boats out on the sea.”
Mannan’s lips pulled up in a sneer. “Ye think that will placate me? A few whispered invocations from a few cowering mortals? After what they did to me? After they came between me and my love and condemned me to an eternity of loneliness?”
Rose shook her head. “No, I know it’s not enough. I know what drives you. I feel your despair, Mannan, I feel your grief. But you’re not alone. There is another. You were imprisoned before Danu could tell you, weren’t you?”
The god’s eyes narrowed in suspicion. But, Cailean noticed, the storm around them lessened just a little. “What are ye talking about? What other?”
“Danu bore you a child, Mannan. You have a daughter.”
The god stilled. The storm fell out of the air as if it had never existed, replaced instead by a silent, eerie calm.
In the sudden stillness, Cailean could hear his heart beating in his chest, his blood roaring in his ears.
He rocked onto the balls of his feet, ready to move in any direction should Mannan lash out at Rose.
But the god did nothing, only stared as if lost for words.
But in the next instant, the storm howled into being once more, ferocious and full of rage. “Ye lie!” the god bellowed. “I will crush ye all!”
Rose flung her head back and shouted at the sky, “Lir! I summon you!”
She clenched one of her fists, reopening a scab across her palm and little droplets of blood dripped down her wrist, to be snatched away by the wind and deposited into the white, churning waves.
There was an almighty boom as of a heavy door opening and closing and suddenly another woman stood by Cailean’s side. She was tall, willowy, with long hair and eyes of silver.
Lir.
“Stop this, Father,” the goddess said.
Mannan’s eyes widened. “Who… who are ye?”
Lir walked towards him, her hair and long dress untouched by the wind, her feet barely seeming to touch the bare rock of the headland. She halted several paces from her father and regarded him steadily.
“Ye know who I am. I’m yer daughter.”
Emotions ripped across Mannan’s face, all too human in their intensity. Cailean saw shock, disbelief, heart-rending longing.
“My… my daughter?”
Lir nodded. “Ye were never forgotten, Father. Nor mother either. Not while I walk the earth. I am the green in every wave, the surf along the shore, the rain upon the mountains. Through me, Danu lives.”
Cailean watched Mannan closely. His senses tingled with the energies he felt stirring around him, but he wouldn’t let it distract him. He didn’t trust either of these creatures and he watched both of them, alert for any movement that might indicate they posed a threat to Rose.
But neither Mannan nor Lir were looking at him.
Their attention was fixed wholly on each other.
To Cailean’s eyes, father and daughter looked like two stalking cats, sizing the other up and trying to figure out if they should be friends or enemies.
Did immortal beings even feel the same emotions as humans?
Mannan had displayed rage and grief and all the darker human emotions, but what about the lighter ones?
Was this creature even capable of feeling love for his daughter?
Around them, the storm continued to rage. The wind howled and sea lashed the sides of the headland with its fury. Yet they seemed trapped within a pocket of preternatural calm, the tableau frozen as Mannan and Lir stared at each other.
Then suddenly, Cailean saw it. An expression crossed Mannan’s face and something filled his eyes that Cailean might not have recognized had he not felt it himself.
But he knew exactly what that emotion was.
He’d felt it the first time he’d held Catriona and she’d looked up at him with those big eyes of hers, curling one tiny hand around his thumb.
It was a feeling that had never left him but only grew stronger with every passing moment.
The love of a father for his daughter.
Something seemed to snap within Mannan. His shoulders slumped and the storm calmed. He bowed his head, pressing a hand to his forehead.
“Forgive me,” he whispered. “I did not know. I did not see.”