Could it be the mere sight of him that was causing this eerie feeling within her? The strange buzzing that filled her ears? The way her vision dimmed and flared? Before she could do anything foolish, something in the world around her tilted and changed. Ran grabbed for the table in front of her as she lost her balance. Then, in an instant, her vision flickered again and the colors of the world disappeared. Everyone looked like a pale, drab version of themselves.
Except Soren. He had changed now, not only looking stronger and healthier, but also an eerie silver-gray glow outlined his body. As she watched this happening to him, her arm began to burn. Clapping her hand over it, she lifted her gaze and met his in that moment.
In that second, everything and everyone around them disappeared, leaving only the two of them. Time slowed and she gazed at the man to whom she’d given her heart, body and soul. Their life together had been laid ahead of them, shining like jewels and holding the promise of happiness. Those hopes had crumbled in an instant when he betrayed her faith in him.
Now though, all that passed by in the blink of an eye and she found herself staring at Soren as her arm burned fiercely. And, realizing that his action mirrored her own, she waited for his acknowledgment. Instead, he did again as he’d done before—he turned and walked away.
The bright, shimmering color of molten silver continued to swirl around him as he made his way along the street and away from her. Her heart, the one she’d sworn would never be hurt again, pounded in her chest, reminding her of the weakness of her will when it came to Soren Thorson.
Her arm felt as though it was on fire, so she tugged her sleeve up to look. As on the boat when she’d been rescued from the water, her skin burned and reddened with heat, changing as she watched. A shape formed and smoothed, only to form again. Two wavy lines etched into her then, undulating and moving as the waves or current did through water. For a moment, she believed them real. Then the burning began anew and the markings grew deeper and longer across her forearm.
What was going on? First the strange change to her vision and hearing. Then the alterations to the world’s coloring—and Soren’s. And lastly, this marking on her skin and, from his reaction, on his, too. With more questions than answers, she wished there was someone she could ask. Someone who could counsel her and help her discover the truth of this.
And, she wished with all her heart, that it was someone other than the man who had betrayed his every vow and his own words.
As Soren turned and walked off toward the edge of town, Ran knew one thing—she had lied to herself about her feelings for Soren. And the only way she would save her soul and her sanity was to keep away from him.
So, that was what she would do. Stay away from Soren Thorson.
’Twas only as she reached her father’s house in the city after finishing some of her errands that she realized there was another from whom she could seek advice. A man wiser than her father who had more patience with her willfulness and questions that Svein Ragnarson would never allow her to consult.
Einar Brandrson, Soren’s grandfather.
It would not take long for her to ride to his cottage near the northern edge of the island and seek his counsel over these strange occurrences. Surely he would know about these things.
Four
Ran realizedher error as she left her father’s small house in Kirkwall and guided her horse along the north road out of the city. Old Einar’s interest and time was being spent, not at his cottage, but at the stone tower that sat near the beach at Gurness. His letters, sent over the past two years, carefully avoided any mention of what had happened between her and Soren but were filled with stories of the tower and the discoveries he’d made there.
Deserted and unused, the old man had been digging around the base of it and found bits of old pottery and other evidence that people had lived in it long ago. Those bits encouraged him to continue exploring it and so he had, until the last letter some months ago that spoke of fearful events. Since she knew she would be returning to Orkney, she had not replied and expected to see him in person and ask about the strange claims he made.
Once out of the city, Ran felt the tension leave her. On the sea, she was never alone. In her father’s houses or in the storage barns and buildings, she was always surrounded by others. But, here, now, she reveled in the solitude as she followed the path along the sea.
Unfortunately, thoughts of her peculiar encounter with Soren and the changes she now noticed in the world around her filled her thoughts during the ride. Even now, the colors that should fill the sky and land around her were muted and understated. Everything appeared as though it was the gloaming when the light of the sun dimmed and everything was seen through a gauzy overlay.
Except Soren. He appeared bright and vibrant, so much so that he almost sparkled. And the steel-gray color that outlined his shape did glimmer. How could that be? How could any of it be?
She reached the part of the road that followed along the edge of the sea for a short distance before turning inland slightly. And the voices began.
Ran. Daughter of the sea. Come to us.
Join us. Waterblood, use us!
Ran tugged on the reins making the horse stop and she looked around to see who had called to her. The voices sounded like the whisperings she’d heard before, but these were bolder, more humanlike. And yet, no one was there. No one on the road. No one in a boat on the sea. No one.
She looked out over the sea and noticed that the waves seemed to form slowly and remain in shape, almost as though they were watching her as she rode by. As she continued on toward the broch, the words also continued. The same words repeated over and over, sometimes louder and sometimes softer. And Ran found she was not unaffected by the pleas. Something deep within her wanted to answer their call. Wanted to feel the warm caresses and welcome she’d felt when she’d fallen in the sea on her journey here.
Would it be the same? Would they keep her safe again? Would they touch and whisper to her? Would they allow her to leave?
Ran shook her head, pulling herself out of the reverie in which she’d sunk. Voices in the water? Daft! Safe in the sea? What folly!
She shook the reins and the horse began moving again. With each step away those voices cried out louder to her. Her horse began to sidestep and falter, whether because it could hear the voices too or because she was tightening her hold on the reins.
“Stop!” she cried out as the voices threatened to overwhelm her. “Be quiet!”
And there was silence around her in the next moment. The waves went back to their normal ebb and flow from sea to shore. Ran glanced around and everything looked as it should.
Was the upheaval of seeing Soren without warning causing her to be overset with emotions? ’Twas often claimed that women could not handle strong emotions and became hysterical. She did not feel out of control. She did not feel daft. She just could not explain these strange occurrences around her. Ran prayed that Einar was at the tower and could help her. The old man knew so much. Surely he could help her.
