Chapter 9
Chapter Nine
I take a bite of my sausage and mushroom roll and sigh. “God, that’s lovely.”
Sigurd beams. “It is the best, yes?”
We’re sitting in a small café overlooking the harbour, eating breakfast. There’s no sign of Agnes and her sisters now—only a few tourists in raincoats peering into shop windows. The wind gusts outside, throwing rain against the panes of glass and making everything cosy inside.
“So, we have to find Melusine?” I say.
He sets his sandwich down and takes a sip of his coffee. “Yes. Sooner rather than later.”
“That sounds very ominous.”
“Humans have grown to look on mermaids as something from a children’s film. In reality, they are much darker. They are wild, fickle, and very dangerous.”
“Dangerous in what way?”
“They have power over the tides, the sea, and the winds. They can harness all this for their own ends. Nowadays, they avoid humans, finding them small and uninteresting.”
“Really?”
He nods. “Many magical creatures feel the same. They hide themselves and conduct their lives totally separately.”
“You don’t.”
He stares out of the window. His hair is a cinnamon-coloured mess falling to his shoulders, and his sharp face is shadowed.
“No.” He turns and smiles at me, and the mystery vanishes, and he becomes Sigurd again—the warm, open man I’m falling for very quickly.
I can admit that to myself. It won’t stop me leaving, so I don’t wear out my welcome, but I can admit to myself that I find him fascinating—strange and lovely and very dragony if that’s even a word.
He's generous and lusty for life and experiences. Open and funny and very clever. It’s an irresistible combination.
I realise he’s talking and I give my head a shake. “Sorry?”
“You were far away.”
I offer him a crooked smile. “Not so far, really.”
He cocks his head, but I know he won’t pry. “I said that I like humans. There was a time I became jaded after the wars and sequestered myself away, but I like the world too much to be apart from it for long.”
“Yes, I can see that. You’re so full of life and light and warmth that I can’t imagine you dimming that light for long.”
There are a few seconds of silence, and when he speaks, his voice is hoarse. “You honour me, elsklingen, min.”
I smile at him. “So, the Mer hide away?”
He shrugs. “They have their kingdom under the sea. Some of the younger Mer still seek contact with the human world, drawn by your lights.”
“Our streetlights?” I say tentatively.
His lip twitches. “Well, they are very ingenious, but I am referring to the light of a human’s aura.”
“We have those?”
“Yes, you all burn with a fire that is short-lived and all the brighter for that. All magic creatures can see it.”
“Have I got one?”
His smile is crooked, melancholy teasing the edges.
“Yours is one of the brightest I have seen.” He seems to shake off the sadness.
“So, the young Mer have brief tastes of the human world but not as much as in days of old, and the elders grow more and more distant. And what happens when an object becomes distant and faint?”
“It becomes less important.”
He nods. “And so do humans to the Mer. They are not people with feelings and lives. They are pawns in some cases. In others, they are collateral damage. The Mer had little care for your kind in the past, Cary. In the present, they have even less. And Melusine’s parents are important in the court.
They hold the king’s favour. A whisper here, a whisper there, and the sea could be set against Cornwall in anger. ”
“Shit, we have to stop that,” I say. He smiles approvingly at me. I hesitate. “Wait, there’s a royal family?”
He winds one of my curls around his finger, seemingly fascinated with the way it springs back. “Always so curious. Never lose that.”
“You can say too nosy. I’ve been called that many times.”
“Is there such a thing?” he says, astonished. “A joy of learning and knowledge is vital in life. I have lost many years to my books and seeking answers.”
“Well, you have many more than I to lose.” His whole face clouds, and I instantly regret my words. “So, what are we going to do if the Mer don’t like us?” I ask quickly.
His eyes brighten. “Ah, but they do not mind a dragon.”
“I bet they like you.” Red tinges his cheekbones, making me smile. I bet everyone he knows likes him, and it’s obvious he knows many people. How could they not like such a vital man?
“We are going to visit their kingdom under the sea.”
“Oh my god, really? How? When? Will we meet the royal family?”
His laughter booms in the café, and a few people look around, smiling at the infectious sound. “I am not sure if you will meet the king. I know nothing of his comings and goings, but I have a friend at court. He will accompany us.”
“All the time?”
“One must have an escort in the kingdom of the Mer. They would deal harshly with little humans, otherwise.”
“Yes. Let’s definitely have an escort.”
He laughs and sets some money down on the table, leaving an extravagant tip, judging by the waitress’s smile when she comes over to take it. She pats his shoulder. “Don’t leave it so long, Sigurd. I like seeing that bonny face and pretty smile.” She winks at me. “It’s a lot more in evidence today.”
I beam at her, inexplicably pleased.
After exchanging goodbyes, we walk outside where the wind and rain hit us. “So, how do we get there? Will you fly?”
“Not this morning. We will take the car to one of the entrances.” He smiles. “Ah, that disappoints you?” I nod, and his smile deepens. “Then, when we leave, we will come out another way, and I will fly us back.”
The wind intensifies. Waves are now battering the harbour, sending spray over the nearby shops. I stagger at a sudden gust that sends me reeling into him. He sets his hand on my back to steady me, his eyes concerned as he looks at the seething water.
“Let us move quickly, Cary. I think we may not have as much time as I initially thought.”
We make haste to the car, and I set up my new phone so as not to distract him as he drives along the coast. The winds shove at the car, and his big hands are tight on the wheel.
I notice an email from Adrian informing me that my temporary contract has been cancelled, and I wrinkle my nose. Cock.
I look at Sigurd. He’d never punish me if we part ways.
I know it with a deep certainty. He has too generous a nature.
Still, I suppose Adrian did me a favour in the end.
If he hadn’t mantrummed himself off, I wouldn’t be here now, having the adventure of a lifetime with the most fascinating man I’ve ever known.
Finally, we slow and Sigurd parks in a deserted National Trust car park.
“Here?” I say in astonishment. “The entrance to the watery underworld is here?”
He chuckles. “With your flair for the dramatic, mayhap you should be starring at the Minack rather than merely visiting it.”
I reach over and pinch him, enjoying his laughter. The laughter dies, and he reaches for me, cupping my face in his hands. “So pretty,” he murmurs. “The prettiest face I have ever seen.”
After I mumble a disagreement, his eyes sharpen and he says, “If I had years with you, I still do not think I could stop your self-deprecation.”
“It keeps me humble.”
He laughs and brings his mouth to mine. The kiss is soft at first, just the gentle brush of his lips over mine, but the ever-present hunger rises in both of us, and he growls, pressing me back against the car seat as his hands begin to roam.
A sudden squall rocks the car, dying away to a lonely wail, and our lips separate.
“Later?” he says.
“Definitely.”
He drops a kiss on my nose and pulls back. “Then let us go. We have a little walk ahead of us, but if the cliff path is too dangerous, I will shift and bear us down.”
In the end, he doesn’t need to do that. It’s a windy little path that I might think twice of taking in this weather, but with Sigurd’s tall, steady body next to mine, I don’t fear anything.
We step onto the sand, and I look around curiously.
The beach is beautiful, even in a storm; the sand is pale and golden, and the water is a strange blue-green shot through with purple.
Sigurd takes my hand in his and guides me quickly across the sand towards the towering cliffs at the beach’s edge.
Even at the pace of a route march, it’s nice to hold hands with him. I don’t think I’ve ever held a man’s hand before, but I’m prepared to bet if I’d done so with a thousand men, nothing would feel as nice as with Sigurd.
We reach the rocks, and he stops. “Careful here, Cary. It is very slippery. One misstep and you will end up in the sea.”
We scramble across them, and I see a huge gap in the cliffs in front of us. “Is that a cave?” I ask.
He nods, pausing at the entrance and looking back across the beach. “This was once a pilgrimage site,” he says, his eyes unfocused as if he’s watching his memories. “I would come here sometimes with Merlin, and the line of penitents would stretch all the way across the beach.”
“What was he like?”
He smiles, refocusing on me as he comes back to the present. “You would have liked him.” He cups my cheek. “And he would have liked you far too much for my peace of mind. Let us hope that won’t happen.”
“But he’s dead, isn’t he?”
His smile is mysterious.
I narrow my eyes. “Oh my god, really?”
“He is a mage, Cary. They never die.” He rolls his eyes. “They just get more verbose.”
I look around wildly as if Merlin might pop up. “So, where is he?”
“Wandering. He roams the world. He is like me in that he finds humans fascinating, but why wouldn’t he? His best friend was one.”
“Arthur?”
He nods. “Merlin waits for him to wake, and then they will roister and play again.” He sets his hand on my neck, his fingers playing with my curls. “I will tell you more of them if you're interested at another time.”
“I’d love that.”
His smile brightens like the flaring of a candle before it gutters out. “But we have work to do.” He ushers me into the cave.
I look around curiously. The walls are sandstone and the floor is made of sand and crushed shells like the beach. Unlike many caves, it smells fresh and clean.
There’s a pool of water in the floor’s centre, the turquoise colour glowing strangely and sending lights across the ceiling so the whole cave looks as if it’s in motion.
“Pilgrims came for that water,” Sigurd says as I step closer to it. “It had the power to heal. Hardly surprising, as it has Mer magic in it.”
“Can I touch it?” I ask longingly.
He gives me a crooked smile. “Better not today.”
“Oh my god, why? Will it burn me?”
“There is no bottom to that pool of water. Anyone who fell in would fall forever. The day is stormy and the Mer’s mood even more. So, we shall not tempt fate and the vagaries of the Mer mood.” I gulp and step back, and he catches my hand. “You are safe with me, yes?” I nod, and he smiles.
There’s a faint glimmer of purple light on a far wall. The source seems to be coming from an old painting hanging there.
“That’s not something you usually see in a cave. Why has no one nicked it?” I ask.
“Humans cannot see it, and magical creatures would not risk the wrath of the Mer.”
“How old is it?” I ask curiously, stepping nearer, the shell-rich sand crunching under my feet.
“Rather old.”
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. It’s a painting of the beach outside, the strokes sure, and although faded by time, there’s a familiar charm to it that I recognise.
“Oh my god. You did this.”
“How did you know?”
I gaze up at the painting. “I just knew.” I wince at the paucity of the answer, but Sigurd only looks at me with a small smile of pleasure. “You okay?”
He nods, and stepping forward, he hovers his hand over the painting.
His eyes darken and his smile fades as he steps back to me and takes my hand. “This is the entrance to the land of the Mer. You must take care in this land, Cary. Never leave the path.”
“Like Red Riding Hood?” My laughter fades when he doesn’t respond to the teasing.
“Exactly like her. Fairy tales and myths contain an element of truth that humans often overlook. Just like the myth of Orpheus in the underworld.” His eyes sharpen.
“I will not lose you as he did with Eurydice, so have a care to every move you make and every word that comes out of your mouth. The Mer are fierce and fickle. They can be enchanted by you one second, and seek your destruction the next, all because of something as simple as the wind changing.”
“I’ll let you do the talking,” I say quickly.
“Much as I hate to dim your voice, Cary, mayhap that would be wise.”
“You look worried.” He’s starting to scare me. He’s not been this serious with me before.
He takes hold of my hips and stares down at me.
“I would not have you scared for all of a dragon’s riches, but sometimes it is wise to be cautious.
I will be with you. I have visited this land many times, and my friend, who now waits for us on the other side, is a high-ranking member of the court.
Everything will be fine. Just be on your guard, yes? ”
I nod, and he bends, taking my mouth in a hard kiss. Then he steps back and sets his hand on the painting again.
For a second, there’s only the distant booming of the sea and the wail of the wind.
Then the picture starts to rotate, turning faster and faster until it’s spinning wildly.
A hole begins to open up inside it, like a vortex.
It grows larger, and a wind rises that’s fierce enough to blow our hair back.
The whole cave has gone dim, the walls full of dimpling shadows, and there’s a strong smell of the sea.
The scent intensifies, and Sigurd reaches down to grab my hand. “Ready?”
Nerves squirm in my belly like a nest of snakes, but a heady excitement is there too. “Yes,” I say steadily.
“Then come.” He leads me into the vortex.
We remain still, even as the vortex spins crazily around us, tugging at our clothes, blowing our hair.
There’s a whirring, crackling noise, and when I grow dizzy, I lean into Sigurd, who puts his arm around me, steering me clear of the vortex’s edge.
The sound of wind and the booming sea is so strong I can’t think.
I realise with horror that the lights are fading, and soon I can’t see at all.
“Sigurd?” I shout.
“I am here,” he says, his voice steady. “Ouch! Bloody thing.”
“What is it?” I ask wildly, trying to peer through the gloom. “Are you okay?” I gasp as the ground beneath us starts to move. It’s like being on a moving escalator at the airport, and my feet obey the command.
When it comes to a sudden stop, it’s jarring, and I would have fallen if it weren’t for Sigurd’s steady hand.
There’s a glimmer of light ahead, and I watch open-mouthed as Sigurd reaches out and pulls back a curtain.
It’s tattered as though it’s been under the sea for a long time, and it sways in the tide. I blink. The tide?