His father stepped from the shadows and blocked his way, sending a jolt through him that almost made him draw his sword.
“’Tis unwise to startle an armed man, Father.”
“Where are ye off to in the dead of night, son?”
“To my ship. There is no sleep for me here.” Ronan glanced around at the multiple clansmen rolled in their plaids and seeking their dreams on the floor.
“Yer mother is doing her best to help. She’s in her workroom still, searching every wee book and scroll she possesses.” His father fell in step beside him, joining him as he went outside and strode across the bailey. “She will find an answer. She always does.”
“I dinna see how she can.” This was the first time Ronan had ever doubted his mother’s capabilities. “This accursed feeling has haunted me for months now. While I know my powers are not as strong as hers, they are not weak, and yet, they have proven useless in solving this riddle and finding whoever pleads for my help.” He pulled himself up onto his great black stallion’s back. The horse pawed at the cobblestones, tossed its head, and snorted. It was almost as though the animal sensed its master’s uneasiness and was eager to outrun it.
“Dinna underestimate yer mother’s powers,” his father said. “She is as tenacious and unrelenting as yer sea. Especially when it comes to those she loves. She’ll not be at peace until she finds the answer ye seek.”
Ronan’s mouth tightened with his gritted teeth as he gripped the reins and gazed out into the moonlit night. “The call grows stronger with each passing day. If we canna find the sorrow’s source, I fear I shall go mad with it and never know peace again.”
His father nodded. “It sounds much like the madness I experienced before I found yer mother and made her my wife. Dinna despair, lad. She will find the answer. Ye ken the way she has with the powers.”
Ronan didn’t wish to hurt his father by shrugging off his advice, but the man couldn’t possibly understand the maddening frustration of hearing a cry for help and not knowing who it was or from whence it came. While some thought him a coarse man hardened by the sea, he couldn’t abide the thought of someone trapped or suffering simply because he was too thick-skulled to discover their whereabouts. Hetipped a nod back at the keep. “Go to yer bed, Father. I willna sail off into the night if that is what ye fear.”
His father grinned. “’Tis doubtful ye could get past the magical wards yer mother placed at the mouth of the bay. But ye are always free to try.”
Ronan handedoff his horse to the clansman guarding the docks and hurried up the gangplank to his ship. The fathomless depths of MacKay Bay from mouth to the shore enabled even the largest ships to dock rather than have to drop anchor and come in by skiff. As the gentle swell of the waters welcomed him and moved the deck beneath his feet, the tension knotting his shoulders eased, and his burdens seemed lighter. Aye, this was where he belonged—on the water and breathing in the tang of the sea.
He paused on deck and stared up at the stars that had led him on many journeys. When out on the open water, the sky, and the sea were almost as one—vast and alive with mysteries they shared with a chosen few. His ship spoke to him, quietly creaking and groaning as the calm waters gently tugged at it, whispering to come and play, come and find another adventure. Ronan ran his hand along the railing, stroking it with pride and affection. “Not yet, old friend. We must visit with family for a while and make our apologies for neglecting those who love us.”
After one last glance at the open waters beyond the mouth of the bay, he headed aft and pushed into his cabin, tossing his plaid across a chair. The wall of windows that hemmed in the berth, his enormous feather bed, one of the few extravagances he indulged in, welcomed him with a view of the moonlight dancing across the rippling waters.
He stretched and rolled his shoulders one last time before collapsing on the bed and giving himself over to the comfort that felt like home. A jaw-cracking yawn reminded him of hisweariness and urged him to fold his hands behind his head and sleep. The effortless motion of the ship made his eyelids heavy. Just as he relented and closed them, an eerie thumping, urgent and close, demanded he remain alert and give it his attention.
Ronan propped up on one elbow and squinted around the moonlit room, scanning it for anything out of the ordinary. The insistent sound continued, taunting him to find it. With his head cocked to one side, he leaned forward and concentrated on the soft, steady thumping that had come to sound more like a heartbeat the longer he listened to it. “Where the devil are ye?” he whispered into the shadowy darkness.
He slid out of bed and prowled around the large cabin that would make any captain proud. The urgent pounding led him to a small leather pouch tucked in with his logbooks on the built-in shelves behind his desk. He gingerly picked it up, holding his breath as the thumping pounded faster and louder. After unwrapping the leather cord cinched around the neck of the bag, he eased it open and peered inside. A faint light filled the tiny pouch, but it wasn’t bright enough to reveal the contents. Ronan upended the bag over his palm, then blew out an irritated snort at the sight of the Goddess Clíodhna's locket. “What in Brid’s name are ye playing at this time, Clíodhna?”
The large moonstone set in the locket’s cover glowed bright with a lively, blue-white light. The piece trembled in his hand, vibrating with the steady rhythm of the trapped heart or imprisoned spirit within it. “Damn ye, Clíodhna,” he growled soft and low.
Long ago, the sea goddess had been known to trap unwary men’s souls, but he thought she had finally set that cruel habit aside after Brid imprisoned her for several centuries for that crime against mortal man. As he closed his fingers around the ancient piece of jewelry, the familiar yet mysterious ache in his chest stirred as though his heart needed to beat in sync with the heartbeat of the lost soul trapped inside the golden case.
With it clutched in his hand, he stormed out of his quarters and charged his way to the ship’s bow. Facing the open sea, he held thelocket up to the moonlight and shook it. The necklace’s chain snaked down his forearm, wrapping around it and squeezing as if begging for his help.
“Clíodhna!” he roared into the wind while scanning the cresting waves for any sign of the goddess. She never ignored his call. But as minutes passed and nothing happened, anger filled him. She needed to heed his call. Only Clíodhna could answer the riddle to the mystery in his hand.
“Clíodhna! Come to me now!” He leaned over the railing, glaring down at the waves lapping against the side of the ship. Still no answer—no sign at all. The longer he waited, the more he realized the sea goddess had chosen to ignore him for the first time in his life.
He straightened and leaned back against the railing, slowly turning the locket, studying it from every possible angle. The energy trapped inside quietly implored him to set it free, and it feared he would ignore it. The moonstone’s glow flickered in time with the beat of the imprisoned heart.
“Mother will know.” After retrieving the leather pouch he had discarded in his quarters, Ronan placed the locket back inside and tucked it inside the cloth sash tied around his waist. The heartbeat tickled against his flesh, its constant begging to be free pulling at his heart. He loped down the gangplank.
“My horse!” he called to the guard at the end of the dock.
The man hurried to untie the beast and bring it forward.
Ronan leapt upon it and rode hard back to the keep, reining in the beast in the outer bailey and dismounting. He didn’t bother tying it off before charging up the steps. The only thing that mattered was the mysterious locket, and the heartbeat trapped within. He strode across the great hall, stormed into the back archway, and vaulted up the steps to the upper level two at a time, shouting down the passage as he neared his mother’s workroom, “Mother! Mother!” He didn’t care if he roused the entire castle.
The workroom door flew open, revealing his harried mother, her eyes wide with alarm. She charged into the hallwayand met him. “What is it? What’s wrong? I thought you’d gone back to your ship to rest.”
“I did and was nearly asleep whenthisdemanded my attention.” He pulled the pouch from the sash around his waist and thrust it into his mother’s hands.
After raking her disheveled hair behind her ears, she carefully drew the necklace out from the pouch. She squinted at the piece, studying it just as closely as he had. With a worried frown, she held it aloft by the chain and tilted her head, watching it as it slowly turned. The moonstone glowed brighter, its eerie light creating a flickering aura around the piece.
