The Siren and the Deep Blue Sea - Kerrelyn Sparks Page 0,47
girl of about five was hanging seaweed on a rack to dry.
She ran up to Bettina. “Am I doing it right?”
“Yes.” Bettina gave the girl a hug. “Thank you, Sarah. I’ll bring you more seaweed in a minute.” She leaned down to whisper, “And a honey cake.”
Sarah grinned, then ran back to the rack.
“We use the seaweed for soup or to enrich the soil in the garden,” Bettina explained.
“Do the children go to school or have time to play?” Maeve asked.
“If you don’t work, you don’t eat,” Darroc said behind her.
“That goes for you, too, Quentin. Back to work.”
“Yes, sir.” Quentin’s skipping gait came to an abrupt halt, and he trudged into one of the buildings.
The boy looked so sad, Maeve felt guilty for disliking him earlier. As they passed the blacksmith’s shop, she saw Quentin inside the three-walled building, working hard at the bellows in the searing heat. An old gray-haired man was hammering a sword.
He glanced up at Alfred. “Colonel, I have more coins for the castle.”
So Alfred was a colonel in the Embraced army? And someone named Kendric was the general. Maeve watched as Alfred examined a small basket of plain iron coins.
“I’ll send a servant for these, Thomas,” Alfred told the old man, then pointed at Maeve. “You. Follow me.” He turned and marched away.
“I have a name,” Maeve muttered.
“Shouldn’t she be properly dressed before she goes to the castle?” Bettina asked. “You wouldn’t want to offend the queen.”
Alfred stopped and glanced back.
“I could loan her a gown,” Bettina offered. “It would take only a moment.”
With a frown, Alfred crossed his arms. “Very well, but be quick about it.”
“This way.” Bettina led Maeve inside a wooden cottage and closed the door.
“Is this your home?” Maeve asked as she looked about. About a quarter of the room was taken up by a large loom. The young woman working it glanced up, her eyes widening in shock. Maeve smiled at her. “Hello.”
“Who . . . ?” The young woman rose to her feet. “She looks so much like . . .”
“I know.” Bettina motioned to the young woman. “This is Catriona. And Olana is there at the spinning wheel. We live here, along with Sarah and the other girls.”
Olana’s jaw dropped as she stared at Maeve.
“Hello. My name is Maeve.” She smiled at Olana, who appeared to be about twelve years of age.
Catriona slowly approached her. “How did you get here?”
“Or more importantly—why?” Bettina gave Maeve a frustrated look. “There is nothing here for you but danger.”
“And constant labor,” Olana muttered.
“Let me find you a gown.” Bettina took the basket from Maeve’s arms and set it on the wooden floor.
Olana gasped. “She’s naked!”
“I’m a selkie,” Maeve explained. “I swam here, so I arrived without clothes.”
Olana stepped toward her. “Then you’re a shifter?”
Before Maeve could answer, Catriona grabbed her by the arm.
“You must swim away,” Catriona insisted. “Now.”
“She can’t.” Bettina selected a folded gown from a stack on a shelf. “Alfred and Darroc have taken her prisoner.”
With a gasp, Catriona released her. “Oh, no.”
Olana backed away, crossing her arms over her chest. “Are they taking her to the dungeon like they did Gabby?”
Maeve stiffened. There was a girl in the dungeon?
A banging on the door made them all jump.
“Hurry up!” Alfred shouted.
“That ass,” Catriona muttered.
Maeve winced. “I have to agree.”
Catriona leaned close. “He thinks he’s superior to everyone because he’s the only one with lightning power.”
“But actually, he . . .” Maeve hesitated, unsure whether she should let anyone on this island know that Leo had the same power.
“Here. You can wear this.” Bettina slipped a plain linen shift over Maeve’s head.
“But that’s your best gown,” Olana said.
As the blue linen gown fell to Maeve’s calves, she pulled the shawl off her hips and handed it to Bettina. “I shouldn’t take your best—”
“You’ll be meeting the queen.” Bettina looped the shawl around Maeve’s shoulders. “You must be careful.”
“Why?” Maeve asked, but before anyone could reply, Alfred banged on the door again.
“Come out now!” he ordered.
The three females gave Maeve a worried look as she turned toward the door.
“Good luck,” Bettina whispered.
* * *
As Maeve walked toward the castle with the two soldiers, she eyed it carefully to see if it matched the one from her dream. It was hard to tell, though, since in her dream she had floated toward the castle from the north, where it faced the sea. Now, they were arriving from the back.
The garden looked eerily familiar, though, with its hedges clipped to resemble rolling