She watched him without responding and then stared off as the winds blew some distance away.
“We have not discussed how we will free my father from that man.” Ran met his gaze. “If he serves the evil I felt in that water, we may not be able to rescue him.” He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her. To ease her fears or at least hold them at bay. But he could do neither. Not now. Not here.Not yet.
“I know what I saw. Tell me what you heard and felt.”
Ran gathered her legs up under her skirts and rubbed her hands on the fabric as if to remove some dirt or soil from them.
“The words were similar to what the sea says to me. Daughter of the sea. Telling me the water heeds my commands.” She shook her head and shivered. “The tone of the words carried an ominous feel. That was the first warning I had that it was not the sea speaking to me.”
“Is that when you moaned?” The sound of it terrified him for it came from the depths of her soul. Worse than the moan of someone in pain, this sound was one of desolation and desperation . . . and hopelessness. Soren hoped he’d never hear such a thing again, but suspected he would.
“The voice asked me to help them. They said they needed me.”
“They? More than one, like the voices you hear in the sea?” He always heard the winds as a group, never just one voice.
“At first, it sounded like a woman’s voice, and then a man spoke as well. Then, well, then I could not tell. They blended together and begged me to help them . . . her.”
“Could it have been your father’s voice? Or did they say how you could help them? Or her?” he probed.
“Nay,” she said. Then she shook her head. “Nay, not him. And they did not say what they needed in words,” she explained. “I could sense that they are trapped. That they could not come to me so I needed to go to them.”
“Go . . . ?” he began until she held up her hand and shrugged.
“I know not. Just that they needed my help.”
He thought on her explanation and hoped Ander would catch up with them sooner than the two days hence he’d said. Surely he would give good counsel about what these strange things meant. Before he could ask another question, she shook her head.
“It was one voice. A woman’s voice. Distorted somehow, mayhap by the water? And the pain she suffers being imprisoned.” She let out a breath filled with frustration and confusion. “I hope Father Ander has found out more about all of this.”
He nodded and watched as she turned and leaned against the wooden frame of the hut, exhausted by what had happened. The sun was setting quickly and the air grew colder. Between the shelter and their nearness and the lack of cold wind, they would not be too uncomfortable through the night. A fire would have helped, but the ground and grass was too damp to sustain one, and he had nothing to burn as fuel.
“She said something else. Something I have suspected but this is all so new and strange,” Ran said. She sat up once more. “The voice saidall the waters heed my call.All the waters.”
“You already know that. You do that.” He knew it. He’d seen it as he watched her become flesh and blood from the window of the tower. “You made the water leave your garments.”
“I did.” She shifted around. “I did!”
“If you doubt your abilities, attempt something now. Make the water leave where we sit before our blanket and our arses are wet,” he suggested.
Before the words had finished being spoken, the earth beneath them dried out. He smiled and nodded at her. So little effort and so much power. Soren could feel it just before she used it. Why could he feel it?
“So, you can. You already have more experience at this than I do,” he admitted. “You found your father by asking the water. You became the water. You can command the water even if it’s not the sea or river or lake.”
“I need to find out if my father is still well. That man cannot be happy that he is being prevented from reaching the mainland.”
“Let me go. He might have sensed you because of your connection to your father. I have none,” he said, standing. At her nod and as she watched, he let go of his human form with but a thought, becoming the wind.
Take me.
Take me to Svein Ragnarson.
The voices began, welcoming him and guiding him higher into the night’s sky as he became part of them. His body changed to currents of air. He marveled at the view he had of the sun setting in the west as he rose higher and higher. The appearance of the land below was nothing that he could have predicted. Here and there, a fire burned or a croft or cottage could be seen. Lochs and rivers reflected back the light of the now-rising half-moon.
In a shorter time than could be possible for a man, they soared over the water separating the mainland from Rousay, which lay in almost complete darkness. He continued crossing that island, then a bigger expanse of water until he reached Westray.
Slower now.Once across the strait, he slowed even more and flew lower. If this man, this minion of evil, could sense another with power, could Soren sense him as well?
Suddenly, Soren felt the air change around him. It grew thicker, denser somehow. And hotter. Waves of heat washed over him. The winds that carried him chattered, whispering warnings in their hissing voices.
