The Siren and the Deep Blue Sea - Kerrelyn Sparks Page 0,19
a day.
And there was another reason for his impersonating the Seer. He didn’t want to tell anyone that the Seer had died. If the news spread that the Seer was gone, then Cahira might not send that boat, and he’d lose his chance to capture one of the last members of the Circle of Five. He had to get rid of the Circle to protect the Seer’s reputation.
But could he pull it off? He’d never masqueraded as another person before. Nevis was a close friend, and Maeve—well, she had guessed who he was while in pelican form. Would he be able to fool them both?
Chapter 4
Maeve scanned the beach as Nevis rowed their small boat toward the Isle of Mist. There was no one there. “I suppose we’ll have to wander about until we find the Seer’s house?”
“Actually, he will find us.” Nevis glanced over his shoulder. “You see the bluff just above the beach? There’s a pole up there with a red flag.”
She shaded her eyes with a hand so she could see through the glare of the afternoon sun. The wind had died down momentarily, so the red flag was hanging limply along the pole. “Oh, right. I see it.”
“That’s how we knew which beach to come to. And I heard there’s a bell at the base of the pole. If we ring it, the Seer will come.”
“How do you know all this?”
Nevis exhaled as he heaved on the oars. “I asked around the docks at Luna and found the sailors who bring the Seer his supplies every month. They told me what to do.”
“I see.” Maeve checked the basket on her lap, making sure the linen cloth was tucked in. Mother Ginessa and the sisters at the convent had helped her put together this last-minute gift for the Seer. Underneath the cloth, there was a loaf of freshly baked bread, a crock of strawberry jam, cheese, and a bottle of wine.
The rowboat thudded to a stop when the bottom hit sand.
“Careful.” Nevis reached for Maeve as she stood up.
“I’m fine.” She gripped the basket handle with one hand and lifted the skirt of her cream-colored convent gown with the other. Stepping into the shallow bay, she winced as the cool water came up to her calves and seeped into her thin leather shoes. Quickly, she waded toward the shore, while Nevis jumped out and hauled the boat up onto the beach.
“There.” She pointed to a path that wound up to the bluff.
“I’ll carry the basket,” he offered, and she handed it to him.
Her shoes made squishing noises with each step and were soon coated, inside and out, with sand. She glanced with envy at Nevis’s knee-high boots. Maybe she should take a lesson from her sister Sorcha and start dressing like a man. Climbing this steep path would certainly be easier without a long gown that was made heavier by its sodden hem.
Halfway up, she paused to catch her breath.
Nevis stopped beside her. “I hope we have better luck with the Seer than I did with the queen.”
“Why? Did your meeting not go well?”
“It didn’t go at all.” He shifted the basket from one hand to the other. “I took the gifts to the waiting room and requested a meeting. The secretary took the gifts inside, then came back to tell me that the queen was busy. I said I would wait, and so I did for over two hours. Finally, I had to leave because we had this trip already planned.”
“I wonder why she’s reluctant to see you.”
Nevis shrugged. “I thought she must be unfriendly, but then I learned at the docks that she’s the one paying for most of the Seer’s supplies.”
Maeve nodded. “She was always very generous with the convent, too.”
“Have you ever met her?”
“No.” Maeve frowned. “Now that I think about it, I never heard of her ever leaving the castle. Even for celebrations.”
Nevis grunted. “Maybe she’s old. Or sick.” He headed up the path. “Come on.”
After a few more minutes of climbing, they reached the top of the bluff, then followed the worn path to the pole. Nevis set the basket down next to a wooden box that contained a large bell.
“I guess this keeps the bell from clanging in the wind.” Nevis grabbed the bell, and it immediately made a loud clatter.
Maeve touched his sleeve. “You can stop.” She motioned to where a man was standing across a grassy meadow on the summit of a low hill.