earth flowered and life crawled from the sea. Not all the elementals—the First Creation—were pleased when the Creator turned His efforts and attention toward mankind. The children of air supported Him, in this as in everything. The children of fire rebelled. While those of us forced to share our elements, our territories, with humankind withdrew, the fair folk to the hills and the merfolk to the sea.”
She struggled to understand. “You hid.”
“We retreated. Yes.”
His cool tone needled her. “So, what brought you to World’s End? Shore leave?”
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His expression grew even colder and more remote. “Not that.”
“What, then? What do you want with me?”
“I saw your face,” he said abruptly.
She opened her mouth; closed it again.
“In the waters of a tide pool. In a vision. In my dreams.” His gaze locked with hers. “I saw you, and I came for you.”
Her heart beat faster. It was like something in a fairy tale. Or a dream. She whispered, “Why?”
In the shadows cast by the lantern, his eyes were dark. “There is a prophecy that a female of your mother’s line will alter the balance of the elements, perhaps even restore our people to what we have been. We need you. I need you.”
Yearning almost robbed her of breath. He was telling her what every child ought to hear, what every woman wanted to believe.
For years, Lucy had been waiting to be wanted. For her mother to come back, for her brother to come home, for her father to look up from his bottle and actually see her. All through childhood, she’d believed there must be something wrong with her, because her mother had left them, because her father was a drunk. All her life, she had wanted to feel a part of things, normal, connected, whole.
And always she had been aware that she was different. Flawed.
There was a knot in her chest, an ache in her throat like unshed tears. Lucy swallowed. What if . . . Oh, God. What if Conn were telling the truth? What if she felt like a freak because she was a freak?
Or her mother was.
Her heart hammered with the need to believe. Panic slithered over her skin.
“I’m not . . . I can’t be what you think I am.”
“You are your mother’s daughter.”
She shook her head. “You don’t understand. I’m afraid of the water. I get seasick. I can’t even swim.”
“You have her power. Her lineage. It is enough.”
Enough for what? she wondered wildly.
The sealskin lay on the floor between them, the elephant in the room.
“You could have told me,” she said, shaken. “You could have explained.”
“Would you have come?”
No.
“Maybe not,” she admitted. “But I should have had the choice.”
His mouth was grim, his eyes bleak. “There is no choice. For either of us.”
6
EDITH PAINE, THE TOWN CLERK, STUCK HER NEAT gray bob into Caleb’s office. In addition to handling the town’s permits, billing, and filing, Edith served as the police department’s day dispatcher and the island’s twenty-four-hour news source. Caleb never walked past her desk in the outer office without feeling like he should wipe his shoes first.
“You’ve got a fax from Marine Patrol,” she announced. “They want you to keep an eye out for a boat missing from its moorings in Rockland. Caroline Begley from the inn is on line one. And your brother’s here to see you.”
Caleb pressed a button on his computer keyboard, blanking the screen. “Thanks, Edith. I’ll take the call.
Tell Dylan to wait.”
But Edith stayed in the doorway. She nodded toward his blank monitor. “You’re not shopping for cradles already.”
Caleb’s face heated as if she’d had caught him using the town’s computer to surf for porn instead of woodworking plans. “I was thinking of building one.”
She gave him what might have been an approving look over the top of her glasses. “Well, a woman does Page 36
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