Chapter 7

Ronan threw his plaid around his shoulders and quietly left his room. He couldn't sleep. Whether because the castle failed to rock and gently sway like his ship or because the uneasiness that had plagued him for months now seemed stronger and more unnerving than ever before. He scrubbed his knuckles up and down his breastbone, half wishing he could reach inside his chest and rip the unsettling thing out of his body.

He moved quietly down the dimly lit hallway, pausing to peer out an arrow slit facing the sea. With his face pressed to the tall, narrow opening, he sucked in a deep breath of the briny air and held it. Thankfully, the faithful waters always provided what little ease there was to be found since that unknown force had started haunting his every waking hour.

After descending the stairs, he stepped out into the clan's gathering hall.

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. He tipped 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 his weariness 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 the locket 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 hallway and 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 when this demanded 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.

"Where did this come from?" His mother sounded as though she were in a daze, her voice low and reverent as she cradled the locket in her hands.

"It was on my shelves with my logbooks. That belongs to the Goddess Clíodhna—the one she used to imprison souls before the Goddess Brid convinced her otherwise. I have seen it before. Clíodhna once showed it to me while telling me of her legends." He slowly circled his mother as she pressed the golden locket to her chest.

Mother closed her eyes, a studious frown puckering her brow as she tilted her head to one side and appeared to listen to something only she could hear. With a startled jerk, her eyes flew open. She hurried to return the ornament to its pouch, cinch the bag tightly shut, and knot the leather ties. "Did you call to the sea goddess?"

"Aye. Twice. Even used my powers to strengthen the call." Mother's reaction worried him. Something he couldn't quite identify flickered in her eyes.

"What did she tell you once she finally appeared?" She set the pouch on the table in the center of the room, shaking her head at Ronan's father as he entered with his sword drawn and held between his hands as though ready to cleave the thing in two.

"She ignored me. Didna even send so much as a breeze to flutter my sails."Ronan raked a hand through his hair while keeping his focus locked on the leather pouch quietly thumping on the table.

"What does it mean, Rachel?" Father circled the pouch with a wariness that betrayed his need to destroy the thing with whatever means it took.

His mother caught her bottom lip between her teeth and nervously chewed it. "The pull of loneliness and sorrow plaguing our Ronan comes from that locket. I don't know who is trapped within, but their soul cries to be free."

Ronan drew his dagger, cut the leather ties from the pouch, and dumped the cursed bit of jewelry back into his hand. With a hesitancy born of knowing the sea goddess's powers, he risked touching the moonstone on its cover. "Why would Clíodhna trap a soul? Surely, she knew the Goddess Brid would imprison her again for doing such?"

His mother dragged a weary hand across her eyes, then massaged her temples as she lowered herself into a chair beside the table. "I don't have that answer, son. I do know she's a temperamental one, as changing as the sea itself—and wants no one to believe she fears Brid as much as she does. I also worry that this might be some sort of trap. Perhaps, she used her powers to imprison evil inside that tiny tomb this time."

"Nay, Mother." Ronan shook his head and thumped his fist to his chest. "If it was evil, I would feel it. A knowing about this thing has settled deep within me. Loneliness, great sadness, and the desire to be free lie within that wee prison. There is something familiar about that soul, as well." He shook his head. "I canna explain it, but I know what I know." He held the locket against his chest, determined to listen to it with his heart this time rather than his head. The longer he held it to his heart, the brighter the moonstone glowed.

"Ronan, stop!" His mother snatched the necklace out of his hands, shoved it back inside the pouch, and returned it to the center of the table. "We must go carefully before we choose a course of action. I also want to hear Emrys's thoughts."

"Your mother is right," his father said as he caught hold of him by the shoulders. His grip tightened and Ronan struggled to free himself and retrieve the bag from the table. "Whatever is in that locket has been there for some time. One more night of waiting to be freed willna hurt it."

Ronan stared down at the small pouch. It seemed so lost and forlorn in the center of the table. He could almost hear the soul sobbing—and it sounded like a frightened woman. He swallowed hard and fisted his hands to keep from snatching it up and cradling it close. His parents were correct. They had to take great care with this. One more night of loneliness for that poor soul, and himself too, was a small price to pay if it meant they might solve the mystery tomorrow.

He moved closer to the table and leaned over it, drawing his face close to the locket. "I am here," he whispered. "Take heart. I willna desert ye. Soon, ye shall be free."

The moonstone glowed brighter, then the rhythm of the thumping slowed to a calmer beat.

"Never lose hope," Ronan told it. "Never."

The sightof her troubled son in the clan's main gathering room made Rachel shake her head. When she had finally convinced him to delay any action until she talked with Emrys, she'd thought he'd take refuge in his old rooms to get some rest. Instead, he had gone down to the great hall, sat at one of the long trestle tables, and pillowed his head on his arms.

Half the night, she had lain awake, listening to the eerie heartbeat trapped inside that locket. Why had Ronan found himself in possession of the sea goddess's infamous trap for unwary mortals? And why had the fickle Clíodhna ignored her son's call?The wily goddess had always come to him. The first time he called her, she showed up as a curious sea lion. Ronan had been a mere six months old at the time, and Clíodhna had harkened to his every call since.

Rachel held tight to the pouch as she climbed the steep stone stairs to Emrys's library. Perhaps the old druid was awake by now and might be able to shed some light on this dangerous mystery in their midst.

"Daren't ye bring that infernal thing in here! Accursed thing kept me awake all night, and I am too old for such nonsense!" Emrys kept the door open no wider than an inch, his bloodshot eye peering at her through the crack.

"Open this door! Our Ronan needs us, and I cannot believe you're refusing to help him."She leaned hard against the barrier, determined that he let her in. "I know there has to be something in that massive library of yours that could help him."

"Druidic lore passes from master to apprentice by rote. We put nothing to the page," he said while struggling to hold the door shut despite her shoving it.

"Do not stand in there and lie to me, old man. You came to my century and saw the power of the written word. I know you've been recording everything you could recall ever since." She bumped the door with her hip. "How can you be so strong, you withered old dog? Open this door!"

"My strength comes from my connection to the earth," he said with a growling grunt. "Just because ye are a twenty-first century witch doesna mean ye know everything nor possess the ability to overpower me."

"Something has to be in your books. I've already checked mine and found nothing. Let me search through yours. I will not have my son endangered by some foolish whim stirred by that hard to get along with sea goddess."

"The boy must do this alone. I have seen it. Now, get that thing away from me."Emrys stumbled away from the door, brandishing his staff as though trying to protect himself from an evil curse.

"What have you seen?Tell me."Rachel stalked toward him, waving the pouch at him like a weapon.

"I have seen a potential future, ye ken? One best avoided, if ye ask me. If anyone but Ronan breaks the wee curse upon that locket, then their soul will be sucked inside to replace the soul already there. Whoever worked the spellwork on that necklace knew exactly what they wanted—and that was for Ronan to be the one to open it." Emrys shielded his face with his arm, peeking at the locket, then hurrying to turn his gaze away from it.

"You are certain of this? You have seen it?" Rachel debated whether to trust the old wizard. Their relationship and trust in one another had never been on solid ground. "What of Ronan's soul when he opens it? Did you see that likely future as well?" Fear made her heart pound as she envisioned her son trapped inside that golden case.

"All I could see of that future was that Ronan appeared relieved—and then a mite confused. But rest easy, Rachel. Those golden walls will not imprison him. My vision told me that the Goddess Clíodhna forbade it. Ye ken how much she loves him." Emrys sagged down onto his cot, struggling to keep his eyes shielded from the thing within the leather pouch.

"I hate this. You know how volatile she can be.The sea goddess is like a spoiled child when she doesn't get her way." Rachel sank into a nearby chair, the long night taking its toll on her energy as well.

"Aye, but Brid favors yerself and yer children. Clíodhna willna challenge the Mother Goddess, and as I said, ye ken how much she loves Ronan." Emrys curled onto his side and rested his staff across his body for protection.

Rachel shook her head. "It is her love for Ronan that worries me."

Ronan enteredhis mother's private solar and found her staring out the window that overlooked the sea. The waves crashed against the base of the cliff that made the MacKay fortress even more impenetrable. They called out to him—teasing him to forget his worries and return to where he belonged. The untamable, ever-changing waters would always possess him.Mother still struggled with his destiny to be forever entwined with the sea, and she had never been easy with the Sea Goddess Clíodhna possessing such a fascination with him.

She turned from the window; her usual composure replaced by a worried scowl.

Father stepped forward, a fierce protectiveness in the set of his jaw. He kept one hand on the haft of his sword and the other on the small of Mother's back. He was ready to defend her even though he had never possessed or fully understood the powers she and their children commanded.

Faolan, the firstborn of their powerful trio, shifted in place, eyeing the room with a leeriness and readiness to spring into action. His blonde hair was already shot with strands of silver, reflecting his cautious and protective nature towards his family and the clan he would someday lead.

Latharn, the youngest, his hair as reddish blonde as the sly fox for which he was named, appeared to be the only one at ease with the meeting.Known for his craftiness and quick wit, he had yet to encounter a situation he was unable to manage—which lent to a bit of arrogance on his part. Ronan feared that someday, his little brother would meet his match and regret being so overly self-assured.

And then there was baby sister, Aveline.Ronan noted her nervous fidgeting and the uncertainty in her pale green eyes. She kept darting furtive glances around the room as if expecting—what? He stifled a groan and refrained from shaking his head. That lass was up to something. He could smell it. He only hoped it was nothing they would all end up paying for.

"Ronan." His mother moved toward him with the leather pouch held aloft. "After talking with Emrys and scouring every written source I could find, I think we can help this captured soul." Her dark brows drew together, and she appeared almost tearful. "But we must go with care for if this goes wrong?—"

"I understand." He pulled in a deep breath and held out his hand. "Give me the locket, Mother. I need to be the one to do this." He would endanger none of the others. Not when this thing had plagued him for weeks before finally coming to rest at his door.

She removed the necklace from the pouch and placed it in his hand."I am glad you feel that way because it appears you are the one who must release whatever is imprisoned. Emrys has seen it, and I also scried the mists for what we are about to do. You hold the fate of the soul within this golden prison."

He stared down at the locket, mesmerized by the gentle pulsing flicker of light the large, iridescent moonstone emitted. The heartsong beat steady and strong, stirring a protectiveness in his chest, a caring for the tortured soul that had somehow found itself caught in the sea goddess's unholy game.

"How do I break the curse?" he whispered without taking his gaze from the necklace.

"We must surround you with an elemental circle. It will protect you—and us—from being pulled into the sea goddess's prison to replace the soul already there."Mother motioned to his brothers and sister to join hands and gather around him. When his father stepped forward, she shook her head. "No, Caelan, my love. I am sorry.To include you in this circle would endanger you, and I refuse to risk it." Love shone in her eyes as she tipped a nod toward the window. "Stand over there. Please, my love. You should be safe there."

"What of yer safety?"Father growled with nostrils flared like an angry bull. "I will not have ye endangered, wife. That soul can stay imprisoned if it means risking yerself or one of our children."

"We cannot leave that soul trapped, and I promise we will be as safe as possible."Once again, she nodded for him to move over to the window.

Baring his teeth like a cornered animal and emitting a low growl, Father strode over to the window.He drew his sword and held it ready to strike.

Mother turned to Faolan and nodded to her right. "Take the northern point, my son. You will draw down the element of earth."

With his mouth set in a grim line of resolution, Faolan nodded once and moved to where she directed.

"Latharn, take the southern point of our circle.You will be best to draw down the element of fire."With her hands folded in front of her, she resettled her footing as Ronan's youngest brother positioned himself as instructed.

"Aveline, take the east.Call forth the element of air."Mother moved to the side of the circle opposite Ronan's sister and opened her arms. "I will take west—the element of water."

As everyone joined hands, the locket became alarmingly warm. Ronan turned it over in his hand, noting how the moonstone glowed brighter and the gold casing swelled and retracted with every beat of the heart trapped within. "And me, Mother?"

"Your place is in the center. Right where you stand at this moment. You will invokethe most important element of all.You will be spirit."She lifted her hands and linked them with Faolan and Latharn. Aveline did the same.

"Hold the locket to your heart," she told Ronan. "We will each speak in turn, and when the energy has risen, the words will come to you to release the soul. Speak from your heart and soul. Everything you need to help the imprisoned one lies within you."She turned and gave his father a stern shake of her head as he inched closer to the circle. "Please, Caelan. No."

"I dinna like this," he growled.

"It must be this way," she pleaded.

"Father—please." Ronan hated he had brought such dangerous unrest to his family, but it was too late to turn back now. "We will protect Mother. I swear it."

His father locked eyes with him. "And who will protect ye, son? And yer brothers? And yer wee sister?"

"We are more powerful together. Ye ken that, aye?" Ronan kept his gaze locked with his father's, refusing to back down and look away.

His father bared his teeth again, but he returned to his post at the window.

Mother gave a heavy sigh, then nodded for Faolan to begin.

"I invoke the power of the earth spirit. Ground us safely in what we seek."As Faolan turned to their sister and nodded, a deep green aura surrounded him.

"I invoke the power of the air spirit," Aveline said. "Breathe truth into what we seek."As she turned to Latharn, she became illuminated with a glowing aura of white that was so bright it was almost blinding.

"I invoke the power of fire spirit," Latharn said. "Purify us with yer power."Flames licked and swirled around him as he turned and looked at their mother.

"I invoke the power of the water spirit," Rachel said. "Bring us balance and dominion over the seas in what we seek." Aglow with a deep blue aura, her voice echoed with the depths of the mystical energies humming around the circle and passing through them.

With the now white hot locket clutched to his chest, Ronan closed his eyes and threw his head back as the elemental powers surged through him, charging his senses with their powerful energy. In a voice deep and echoing with that power, the words he needed came forth from his heart and soul. "By the strength of my spirit, I release yer bonds and welcome yer soul into my arms. Come and take refuge. I grant ye sanctuary and will keep ye safe from those who bound ye. Never again will ye ever be so accursed."

The locket split in two, exploding with a blinding white energy that swirled and burned, searing his skin and making his hair crackle as though determined to turn him to ash.Ronan held fast as the power unleashed a deafening howl and roared even hotter.

"I will not be consumed,"he roared, struggling to hold tight to a shifting form thrashing in his embrace. It had to be the soul. The soul was fighting to be free. "I am here to help ye," he shouted to it. "I will keep ye safe."

The soul writhed, pushed, and shoved, struggling to escape. He felt sure if the thing had teeth, it would have shredded him. "Dinna fear me," he bellowed into the inferno's deafening roar. "Allow me to help ye."

Then silence fell with an abruptness that took Ronan to his knees.The power he had struggled to hold turned into a soft, warm weight that doubled him over. He opened his eyes and stared down at her. For it was a lass, a breathtaking lass with long, silky tresses as black as his own. Her dark lashes fluttered, but her eyes remained closed. Her lips, full and red and holding the promise of the sweetest kisses were barely parted.

A sudden panic took hold of him. Did she live? Or had prying her free of the locket torn her life away? "Dinna be dead," he whispered as he cradled her closer and pressed an ear to her chest.

Her heart beat steady and strong—the same rhythm he had heard within the locket.

"Did she survive?" his mother asked.

"Aye," Ronan said without looking up from the beauty in his arms. "Her heart beats true."