Home From The Sea: The Elemental Masters, Book Seven (44 page)

And Rhodri stood there in the moonlight, his sealskin about his shoulders, an approving smile on his face.

“Ah, well done, well thought, well schemed!” he exclaimed. “Not even Gethin can bespell me to resist the power of tears in the sea and my name on the wind! Oh, the sorrow and the pity that your tears were not for missing me, though…”

She snorted. He shook his head, but grew serious. “Tell me, what can I do for you? I cannot bring Idwal back, but if there is anything I can do, I will!”

Nan gestured to Mari, who was hauling the coracle down into the surf. “Take us to Gethin,” Mari said quickly, tossing the oars into the boat. “Take us to the clan.”

“You mean to challenge him, then?” Rhodri said, blinking in surprise. “That’s a bold move, my girl.”

Mari’s jaw set stubbornly. “I do. It is my right, and he can’t deny me that much. I won’t give up without fighting.”

Rhodri shook his head, though not in disbelief. “Well. Well and well. I can do that, I can take you. No matter what our elder says, you are worthy. I will take you to our people. But not, alas,” he said to Nan with real regret, “You. You are neither kin nor magician, and are barred from the lands of the Selch therefore.”

Nan was torn. On the one hand, she wanted terribly to be with Mari to help. But on the other—

She glanced at the coracle and shuddered.

“It would take a braver woman than I to relish going to sea in that,” she admitted, and handed Mari the bundle. “And I would go with you, even so, if I thought there was a chance they’d let me.”

“If you were with her, Gethin would use it as the reason to bar you both,” Rhodri said flatly.

“It’s all right, Nan,” Mari replied, and patted her arm. “I’ll have to count on Idwal’s lessoning and all you and Sarah found for me. And on Gethin still thinking I’m but a weak thing he can disregard.”

“All right then.” Nan stepped back out of the waves. “Stay brave, and good luck to you.”

“Stay safe!” she heard Mari call, as she made her way back up the beach to join Sarah in the little cottage. And when she turned back to wave goodbye, she saw the coracle moving out to sea, steadily, along a path made by the moonlight on the still ocean.

Mari crouched in the coracle, one end of a rope fastened to the frame, the other around Rhodri’s neck. He pulled the coracle effortlessly across the water, as if it weighed next to nothing. The moon was setting, and seemed bigger than she had ever seen it before, as it painted a silver road on the water. Rhodri pulled the boat along that road, silver light enfolding her, growing brighter, as mist arose from the water around her. Soon it was the mist that enveloped her and her boat, and not the moonlight, a softly glowing mist that obscured everything, making it impossible even to see the Selch
who continued to pull steadily. Then even the moon vanished, leaving only the glowing mist, and she understood that she was no longer in the world she knew, but in the one that the Selch inhabited, and that somewhere along that path of light she had crossed from her world into one of magic.

Then the mist cleared for a few paces ahead; the boat was no longer being pulled, but propelled on its own. She saw land where no land should be, under a dome of stars so bright she didn’t miss the moonlight. The coracle grounded on soft sand, and she took her bundle and stepped out of it. There was nothing to be seen but the mist around her and bright, bright stars in unfamiliar patterns above her.

The mist still surrounded her as she waded to the shore, dragging the coracle behind her by the rope. There was a smell of seaweed and sea-air and wet rock, and not much else; through the mist, within feet of her, she saw the vaguely humped shapes of the sort of rocks that seals like to lie-out on around her, but this stretch of the shoreline, at least, was sand. The coracle might look frail, but it wasn’t light, and she strained to get it that last few feet above high tide, as marked by the line of dried seaweed. Only when she had done so did she drop the rope, and try to look about her. The mist still obscured everything, and she took her bundle out of the bottom of the coracle and climbed up on the nearest rock to see if she could get above it.

And that was when it cleared away, all in an instant, and she found herself staring at the enraged face of Gethin, standing on the rocks not thirty feet away from her.

Quick! You must take the advantage! If he speaks first, he can ruin everything!

“Gethin Selch!” she shouted, quickly, before he could get the first word in. “By the right of blood, by the right of kin, by the right of the bond of man and maid, I challenge ye for the bodies, minds, and hearts of my man and my children!” No point in specifying “souls,” since Gethin wouldn’t have right over those in the first place, and in the second, the legends differed as to whether the Tylwyth Teg had souls at all.

She fumbled into the bundle and brought out the jar that she and Sarah had filled on the directions of the Land-Ward. “Tis something Idwal or any witch could have taught you,” Robin had said with a shrug when she asked if this would show his favor to her and get him in trouble with the Sea-Ward. “And once a drop of it strikes him, he’ll have to answer your challenge whether he likes it or not.” The jar had her tears in it, and herbs, and a little of her blood, and sea-water, and other things. She hurled it at Gethin’s feet; her aim was true, it shattered there and some of the contents splattered him, and he jumped back as if he had been burned.

“You cannot deny me my rights!” she snarled. “Pretend it is not true though you will, I am your kin and your clan! The same blood runs in my veins as runs in yours! Deny me, and you deny the Old Ways and your own kin, and you forfeit your right to be chieftain!”

There were more people coming over the rocks, dressed roughly in skins and homespun, hair wild or braided with shells and faded ribbons and holey-stones. They heard her clearly, and began to murmur among themselves, looking askance at Gethin.

Gethin plainly heard the murmurs, and seethed, and his face darkened as one of the men called out, “She’s right, Chieftain. Her being here proves she’s as much Selch blood as human. She has the rights to challenge by the Old Ways.”

“And I’ve the right to set the conditions,” Gethin snarled back. He turned to Mari. “Very well then. I’ll set you three Tests. Pass them all, and you’ll get Idwal and the babies. But fail them—and you forfeit your life.”

Mari felt her heart pound with sudden fear. Forfeit her life?
This
hadn’t been in all those stories that Nan and Sarah had read out to her!

Gethin must have seen that in her face, for his scowl turned to a nasty smile. “Oh now, having second thoughts, are we?” he sneered. “I give you leave to be gone then.”

“I’m going nowhere!” she snapped back, letting anger drive down her fear—though it didn’t stop the pounding of her heart.
What have I to go back to? Da will never be able to come out from
Underhill as long as Idwal and the babies are missing.
Oh, she could probably see him now and again, as Robin slipped him out or her in for a visit, but how would she keep herself? The silver hoard under the hearthstone wouldn’t last forever.
I can fish, I suppose, for the Bargain was kept and the Prothero luck will still hold, but what’s all that when I’m all alone? And even supposing I might find another man one day, and have children, they would never know their grand-da.
She didn’t think she could bear being alone for the rest of her life. She could probably find a fisher-boy who would gladly share in the luck, and there were more marriages made for the sake of a little property than for love, but the thought of lying with someone besides Idwal made her ill.
I would always be longing for Idwal and my lost babies.
…

That alone decided her. “I set the challenge and I take it!” she snapped defiantly. “Bring your Tests!”

There were murmurs of wonder now among the Selch, and Gethin’s scowl deepened. “Very well!” he barked, and gestured to his clansfolk. “Blindfold and bring her to the Trial Ground!”

She did not resist when two of the men came and took her arms, and a woman bound her eyes with a scrap of cloth. For their part, they were very gentle with her, guiding her carefully over rocks, and then on an uneven path. When they were on the rocks, she smelled only the sea and the kelp and the wet stone, but once they moved to the path she began to scent green growing things, the sort of hardy plants that lived on the islands. And then they stopped, and someone unknotted her blindfold, and she looked about her to see what manner of place she stood in.

She was a little surprised to find herself on short salt-grass, in a little hollow, nearly circular, ringed with weather-beaten trees all bent in the same direction from the winter storms. Sitting on the edge of the hollow, just under the trees, were the Selch. Her clan, too… and it was odd to think of it, as she turned to look into the faces of people who could have been roaming the mountains of Wales hundreds and hundreds of years ago. Many of them had their
sealskins belted about them like cloaks, with the empty-eyed heads over one shoulder or draped over their hair. In the uncertain light, it made for the strange effect of having two heads on a single body, both of them staring at her.

She could
see
the magic all about her, thick as the mist that had surrounded the island; she could taste it in the air, rich and heady, as if all the flowers in the world had been made into a sweet, and this was the aroma pouring out of the pan. She could feel it tingling all of her nerves.
So this is how Idwal lives
, she thought, and wondered how he could bear to be in her world at all, where the power was so thin and weak.

How could my loving him ever compete with such richness?
she thought in a sudden burst of terror.
Why would he
want
to come back to me?

But then, Gethin pushed his way through the seated Selch, with Idwal behind him, eyes cast down, and it was too late for second thoughts.

The Selch-chief looked her up and down, expression closed and cold. “The first test,” he said aloud, voice flat and without inflection, “will be the Test of Courage. Here is Idwal, Druid to Selch Seren y Gogledd. You will take him in your arms, and you will not let him go, Water Master. No matter what form he takes, you will hold him, or you will pursue him until you catch him. If he escapes you, then you lose. Only when he cannot change again for weariness will the test be over.”

Like the ballad of Tam Lin
, was all she had time to think, as Gethin gave Idwal a great shove, sending him into her embrace. She only had time enough to see his eyes, full of love and anguish, and then the magic shivered all around her, and in her arms was not a man at all, but a monstrous serpent.

It was as big around as Idwal, and hideously strong; it thrashed and battered her with its tail, and threatened her with its fangs. She really, truly
hated
serpents, and had ever since she’d seen one devour a little mouse as a child, and fear coursed through her veins
like ice water. But she held on, and held on, ignoring the sickly musk of its breath, closing her eyes to the jaws snapping an inch from her face.

Then the magic shivered again, and it wasn’t a snake, it was a flaming log in her arms.

She could feel her skin blistering and she
almost
screamed and dropped it. But she remembered through the pain that in the ballad, it had not been a real burning log, it had been an illusion. So she held on, through the pain, when suddenly she heard a voice like the hiss of fire in her ear.

Listen to the magic. Trust the magic. I’ve told it to lead you, and it is not Gethin’s servant. Let it guide you.

Was that Idwal? The pain was incredible, and desperate for any remedy, she just let loose of her reason and did as she was told.
Take me
, the magic said.
I will protect you.
So she seized some of the magic for herself and spun it around herself in a cooling, soothing blanket of the very essence of Water, and her blisters faded and healed even as the log burned brighter.

She barely had time to feel relief when the log writhed in her arms and she was holding some sort of—thing. She wasn’t quite certain what it was, but it was covered with black hair, it snarled and stank and raked at her arms with wicked claws. Quickly she formed the magic shields around her into armor that rested just on her skin, and the claws skidded on it without getting any purchase. The beast spat and wriggled and did its best to loosen her grip, but she wasn’t going to give up now.

The beast gave a last heave, and suddenly there was a great, slippery piece of ice in her arms. The cold of it struck her like a hammer, and her arms went numb. In a panic, she tried to tighten them, but the ice began to slide loose, so rather than lose it, she dropped to the ground abruptly, still holding as tightly as she could until the cold made her shiver so hard her teeth rattled and she groaned with the pain of it.

And then—

She was holding nothing.

Oh no!
she looked wildly about just in time to see a little mouse slipping away into the grass.