Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
I stand watching as Sigurd embraces Marin. “Thank you,” he says. “Leave this with us, and I will send word when we have any news.”
“Us, eh?” Marin’s eyes are twinkling.
“Hush,” Sigurd replies, a smile tugging at his full mouth.
Marin turns to me. “I shall see you again.”
“I hope so.”
He exchanges a look with Sigurd, which I pretend not to notice, and then moves back, clicking his fingers. A door next to us opens, and Sigurd and I walk into a small, windowless antechamber.
“Send word,” Marin says. “I shall get it to the king.”
Sigurd raises his finger to his temple in a lazy salute, and with a flick of his tail, Marin disappears back the way we came. The door closes with a thud, and I turn to Sigurd. “What now?”
“Now we go home.”
I sigh happily, and he kisses my temple, nudging me with his nose. Then he steps back to the door and speaks words in a strange language that raises the hair on the back of my neck.
Sigurd takes my hand. “Lean on me. The water will leave the room now.”
A moment later, there’s a sucking noise and the water drains away, slowly at first and faster and faster until there’s just a wash of seawater on the flagstones.
The change upsets my balance, and I lean against him.
There’s an audible pop, and I suck in a deep breath, relieved at how the air fills my lungs.
“Are you alright?” Sigurd asks. His voice is hoarse, and when I speak, my own is too.
“I’m fine.” I clear my throat. “Ouch. It’s like I’ve been gargling with saltwater.”
He reaches into his pocket and produces a hip flask. When I drink from it, I find it to be pure, clean spring water. We take turns until it's empty, and then he puts the flask back into his pocket.
He steps up to the door and speaks a few words in the same language as before. It swings slowly open, juddering slightly, and I gasp. The corridor that we just stood in has vanished and now there is a set of stone steps leading up and out of sight.
A wind roars through the doors. It gets stronger and stronger, rising to a howl in the small room, and I stagger. Sigurd grabs my hand and pulls me close. “Do not let go,” he shouts over the noise. “And do not be afraid.”
“I’m not,” I say in astonishment. “I just want to see what happens next.”
He stares at me and then throws his head back, laughing loudly, his face full of fierce excitement. “We are well matched, elskling.”
As suddenly as it started, the wind stops. A white mist drifts, obscuring the view of the steps.
Sigurd squeezes my hand. “Ready?”
I nod, and he guides us upward. The mist immediately encloses us. I can hear the sea loud around us, but the area is dry apart from the clammy feel of the fog. “Sigurd?” I shout over the roar of the waves.
“I am here,” he says, and the steady sound of his voice is lovely. He guides my hand to the left, and I feel a stone bannister. “Hold on tight. The stairs are steep and very slippery.”
He leads me up and up until I feel my breath catch and my legs burn. Just as I’m beginning to feel like I can’t make another step, the mist starts to clear. We reach the top so suddenly that I almost stumble, and it’s only Sigurd’s grip that stops me from faceplanting.
“Thank you,” I say breathlessly.
“For you, anything.”
There's an old wooden door in front of us, and Sigurd reaches out, turns the brass handle, and pushes it open.
“No silver or gold?” I say.
He rolls his eyes. “The Mer have ever been concerned with first impressions. Your departure is of no interest to them.”
I follow him out and stand still in shock. We’re standing on a huge, flat rock in the middle of the ocean. All I can see as far as I look is the sea rising and falling. The spray hits us, and I taste the salt on my lips.
The door slams shut behind me, making me jump. When I turn, I stop dead. There’s no door anymore—just the rock and the sea. Two strong arms grab me, and I gasp as Sigurd spins me around. His eyes are golden and very intent.
“What—” I start to say, but the words die away as he kisses me.
It’s not a polite kiss. His mouth forces my lips apart, and he groans as our tongues slide against each other. I tangle my hands in his thick hair, feeling the strands like silk on my fingers. We struggle to get closer and closer, and when he pulls away, I make a sound of protest.
He cups my face in his big hands. “’Tis astonishing how proud of you I am,” he says, his accent strong.
“You are?” A warm feeling fills me. I want him to be proud of me. I want him always to be proud of me.
He nods earnestly. “You are like no one I have met in my long life.”
“That can’t be true.”
His finger traces the line of my lips, his eyes intent. “And yet it is so. Why is that, Cary?”
I smile slyly at him. “Is it because you were lying when you told me you’ve known many men?”
He throws his head back, laughing. It’s a loud, lusty noise. “Aye. I was akin to a virgin when I met you, you think?”
“I think you’re about as akin to a virgin as I am to a potato.”
He laughs louder and then wraps his arms around me, resting his chin on my head. “’Tis an honour to be with you, Cary,” he whispers. “Such a fearless, kind man.”
We stand in each other’s arms for a long moment, and I soak up the comfort and heat of his body. It’s only now we’re away from the Mer kingdom that I recognise how scared I felt. Would I do it again? After a moment’s thought, I have to say I would.
“I have never felt so alive as I do with you,” I say quietly.
He pulls back and stares at me. “And is that so, Cary?”
I nod, and he kisses my temple, nuzzling into the hair in what is becoming a lovely, familiar gesture. “Then I would repeat those words to you.”
“You’re a dragon. Please don’t say squiring me around is thrilling.”
“It is when you open your mouth and words come out. I never know what you will say next,” he says solemnly, laughing when I punch him.
He steps back. “Well, we are free from the Mer court. I always want to cleanse myself in clean air and rain when it happens.”
“You too?” I say astonished.
He shudders. “I am not comfortable with subterfuge and plotting. And they are the chief tools of a Mer at court. They are a wily people. Ah, feel the air, Cary.”
He turns his face to it, and I watch him. “So, what now? What did she mean when she said to seek the stone men? Do you have any idea?”
He nods. “She was talking of a site near Lamorna Cove.”
“That name sounds familiar.” I rack my brain. “The Merry Maidens?” I say tentatively.
He beams. “My clever human. Yes, we must go to Lamorna.”
“I presume we’re flying.”
He nods. “I shall go to the edge and change. Do not come any closer. You remember?”
I nod, trying to hide my anticipation, and he chuckles, not even fooled for a second. I know it pleases him that I like flying.
I startle when a peal of bells fills the air. “What the hell was that?” I ask, immediately going to the edge of the rock. There’s no sign of a church—just the restless sea heaving around the rock.
Sigurd immediately pulls me back. He makes a tsking noise. “’Tis not safe, nosy human,” he chides. “I do not want you taking a tumble into these waves.”
“But it sounded like church bells under the sea.”
“It is,” he says simply. “And definitely not a reason to go for an unplanned swim.”
“Do the Mer have churches, then?”
“Nay.” He unfastens his watch and hands it to me.
“What do you normally do with it when I’m not here?”
“I don’t carry it. I can conjure my clothes, which I have to say is a huge relief because nudity can cause consternation.”
I lick my lips. “Not in me.” Then I check as something occurs to me that I really should have thought of sooner. “Hang on. When you changed the first time, you took off your clothes.” My eyes narrow. “One could even say you posed.”
He laughs, his eyes a little wicked. “Mayhap I just like the way you look at me when I am naked.”
“And how is that?”
“Avidly,” he says, stretching out the word. I can’t help my laugh and his eyes twinkle merrily. “But jewellery is more challenging. It is my dragon nature that covets gold and so cannot bear for it ever to vanish, even if it be only for a few minutes.”
“I thought that was a myth.”
He laughs. “Nay, definitely not. We like our possessions. I am not particularly fond of gold, but I have an affinity for books, music, and art. It's lucky that my second cousin is a banker in Switzerland, and he grows my wealth very ably. Our love for gold stands us well in this world of yours.”
The bells sound again. There’s something mournful about them that raises the hair on the back of my neck. To hear bells in the middle of the sea is eerie. “If it’s not a Mer church, then what is that?” I ask again.
“’Tis Lyonesse.”
Excitement fills me. “The land that once stretched to the Isles of Scilly and was engulfed by the sea a thousand years ago?”
He smiles. “Ah, I sometimes forget how exciting this is for you. It is such an old tale.”
“You mean Lyonesse is actually true?”
He nods.
“My dad used to tell me of sailors hearing the bells of drowned churches, and that if you were out near Seven Stones Lighthouse on a super moon, you could see the old buildings under the sea.”
“Ah, one day I would like to meet your father. It seems that he prepared you well for your interaction with the magic world. Mayhap that is why you are so unflappable.”
I consider that and then nod. “Probably. It’s like meeting old friends. Don’t get me wrong, though. I wasn’t comfortable with the Mer.”
He cups my chin and examines my face, his golden eyes unusually serious.
“They are a fickle race, but always remember they are capable of great kindness, like everyone else. They have the gift of healing and foresight. Besides, you have the favour of The Lady. That is no small thing and ensures you will walk freely.”
“So, about Lyonesse. Did you ever see it?” I look at the sea as if the city is going to rise in front of my eyes. “Did you ever visit it?” He nods, and excitement uncurls inside me. “What was it like?”