woman standing next to Maeve had to be her mother, Cahira. They resembled each other too much. In appearance only, for sweet Maeve had a kind and loving heart, while Cahira was a power-hungry liar and manipulator.
Oh, dear goddesses, how much had Maeve learned? Did she know that her mother was the driving force behind the Circle of Five? Did she know her parents had started the Circle? If so, she had to be devastated.
The heat of his anger melted away as he realized she must be hurting. He had to help her. Protect her.
He sat up and took a deep breath. The servants had carried him across most of the strange garden and were now skirting the two differently colored ponds. He was close enough now to see the faces of mother and daughter. Maeve looked tense, while Cahira’s expression was full of concern and sympathy. The woman must actually care about the Seer.
You are the Seer, he reminded himself. He would have to act as if he and Cahira were old friends, even if it curdled his stomach. And he would have to act shocked and delighted to be finally meeting his daughter.
Should he let Maeve know who he was?
Cahira waved at him, and he gave her a weak wave back. The servants who were carrying him arrived at the base of the stairs and lowered the litter to the ground. Apparently, this staircase was too steep for them to carry him up. He made a show of slowly rising from the chair and hobbling toward the stairs.
“Do you need help, sir?” one of the servants asked.
“I can manage,” he grumbled as he planted his staff on the first stairstep, then grasped the stone balustrade and ascended one step.
“My dear Burien.” Cahira sauntered to the top of the stairs. “Welcome to Aerie Castle.”
He froze with his foot on the next step. That voice . . .
“I have a wonderful surprise for you.” Cahira pulled Maeve forward. “Our daughter is here!”
Brody collapsed to his knees as the world swirled around him and the dreaded memory slammed back into his head. He was in the middle of the ocean, screams of terror assaulting his ears, grasping hands pulling him under. He squeezed his eyes shut, but still he could see the lifeless bodies of his father and brother. The memory dragged him down, forcing him to relive the moment he had sunk into the water, overwhelmed with so much despair he wanted to die.
But his body, still hungry for life, had shifted. The sudden onslaught of physical pain had wracked him, and yet he had welcomed it as a diversion from the mental anguish of grief. And finally, as a seal, he had heard the Sea Witch’s voice. Taunting him. Cursing him.
It had been an odd voice. Strangely compelling. A siren’s voice, but chilling, unlike Maeve’s voice, which had always felt warm and comforting. He’d always believed he would recognize the Sea Witch’s voice if he heard it again.
And he had.
Cahira. She was the one who had cursed him. The one who had killed his father and brother and all the rest of the crew. After years of searching, he’d finally found her. With a moan, he dropped his staff and lowered his head into his hands. Why the hell did she have to be Maeve’s mother?
Hands grasped at his arms as the servants tried to help him back onto his feet.
“Burien, let them help you,” Cahira said with concern in her voice.
Bitch. Brody felt as if he could burst into fire from the sudden surge of hot rage pulsing through his veins. Die. The woman needed to die. He was tempted to run up the stairs and strangle her. Not now. Not in front of Maeve. Still, it took him a few minutes to tamp down the fury swirling inside him.
Patience. He forced his hands to relax. You will have your revenge. But for now, he needed to control his thoughts and emotions. It would be a terrible mistake to kill the witch right away. First, he had to force her to lift his curse. Then, he could have a normal life. He could even court Maeve.
Fool. How could Maeve have any desire for him if he killed her mother? And how would his own mother and sister react once they learned that Maeve’s mother was the murderer who’d destroyed their family? Shit, his relationship with Maeve was more doomed than ever.
Persevere, he told himself. He’d survived until now,