“He is over there.” He nods to the middle of the field, and in the growing light, I see a huge rock leaning slightly, alone.
I mull over the king’s words as we leave the field the way we came. What did he mean about hotels? The only hotel I’ve been in lately was the one I shared with Adrian. A thought smashes into my brain, and I stop dead.
“What can a mermaid do with her comb?” I ask breathlessly. “I know it’s her key to going home, but can it do anything else?”
Sigurd holds my gaze. “She can control the wind and the tides.”
“Oh my god. I know where Melusine is.”
Chapter Thirteen
The sky is a clear blue shot through with red. My breath billows out in a misty cloud as I cradle my cup of tea.
We’re standing by the harbour in Mousehole. The tide is out, and boats rest forlornly on the sand. The stone sides of the harbour are wet and dank with lichen, but the Christmas decorations are bold and bright, and the strains of “I Saw Three Ships” are issuing cheerily from a nearby café.
I take a sip of my tea, warming my hands on the cup. “It’s going cold already,” I say sadly.
Sigurd takes the cup from me, breathes over it for a few seconds, and steam immediately billows out.
“Here,” he says, handing it back to me. “I may have used more power than I should, so do not drink just yet.”
“I want you at all my picnics from now until the end of time.”
He chuckles and tugs on one of my curls, watching in fascination as it bounces back. “Like a spring,” he says affectionately. “Your hair echoes your nature,elskling.” He takes a sip of his coffee and makes a pleased-sounding groan that makes me shift on our bench. He shoots me a knowing look and does it again. I reach out and shove him gently. Mind you,I could shove even harder, and he still wouldn’t move. It’s like pushing a mountain.
“Shut up,” I say, hearing his laughter with a pleasure that’s tinged with pain. I don’t have much longer with him. Not long enough to listen to that laugh. Nothing is long enough for that.
Panic rises, and as if sensing my emotions, he takes my spare hand in his big one and cradles it on his thigh. The warmth against the cold digits is very welcome.
“Tell me why we are here, Cary. You merely mentioned we had to come to Mousehole and then snored so loudly on our journey here that the gulls took flight.”
“I donotsnore, and I didn’t fall asleep while we were flying,” I say, smiling as he chuckles again. It’s such a merry and lovely sound.
He’s watching me, and I remember his question. “It was the stone king’s mention of a newspaper and local hotels. I suddenly remembered reading a paper on the morning this all started.” He raises his eyebrow, his attention all on me as usual. I could get used to that, I think wistfully, and carry on. “I remembered reading a story about a freak wave that soaked some tourists a few days ago.”
“And it was here?” he says, his eyes sharpening.
I nod. “Morveren was so concerned about someone getting their hands on a mermaid’s comb. Why? I knew it had to do with more than just getting her home. So, what would cause a freak wave like that? It wasn’t in any of the forecasts.”
He stares out at the sea, his eyes distant as he thinks. When he turns, the approval in them warms me further. “My clever Cary,” he says, threading his hand through my hair and pulling me forward. He takes my mouth in a lusty kiss, and when he pulls back, my cheeks must be cherry red.
I clear my throat as he watches me knowingly. “Anyway, I thought we could wait here and see what we can find out. Thevillage is quiet, as it’s so near to Christmas, so strangers will stick out.”
He nods, looking over my shoulder. “I think there is no need. Here she is.”
I turn and gasp when I see a young woman walking towards us. She’s extremely beautiful, and I know instantly that she’s Mer. It’s in the grace of her stride and the otherworldly beauty. Her hair is long and dark, and her eyes are as grey as a rain-washed morning. She’s wearing jeans and a man’s jacket that’s too big for her, and her eyes are sparkling with temper.
“I heard your wings on the air,” she snaps at Sigurd.
“Melusine,” he says calmly. “What a surprise.”
“Don’t lie,” she snaps, her eyes flaring. “You knew I was here.”
Sigurd kindly refrains from dumping me in it and just nods. “There are a lot of people looking for you.”
“And I bet two of them weren’t concerned and were more occupied in using me to fulfil their own ambitions. My parents are suchcharmingpeople.”
She’s not wrong, and Sigurd doesn’t try to pretend. Instead, he pats the bench. “Come sit, Melusine. You will give me a crick in my neck staring up at you so.”
