“Will you teach it to me sometime?”
“I will.” She took Breen’s hand. “I gave you tears when I should have given you strength.”
“Nan, you’ve taught me more of strength than anyone. You watched me when I was growing up. I wasn’t strong.”
“Stronger than you think.”
“I gave in and gave up. I just never stood up, never fought back. I forgot how. You reminded me, and gave me the tools. This past year? It’s been everything to me. I’d already chosen to stand for that, to fight for it. This?”
She closed her hand over the stone. “It’s just the next step.”
“They put such weight on you,” Marg murmured. “I know this weight.”
“Then you have to know, have to believe, I can carry it. Nan, you said you cast it into the sea.”
“And that I did.”
“But you have your powers.”
“Never would I break my pledge. Never. I have fought, and will fight, will die willingly if it’s asked of me. But they took my son when they could have taken me. And his child, taken as well to live unhappy on the other side? No, I would not wear this symbol.
“Had I known it would come to you, and damn the gods, I should have known, I would have worn it the rest of my days.”
“It was always going to come to me, though, wasn’t it?” She’d felt that, the certainty of that, as she stood on the bank, looking down at the pendant under the water. “All of this, everything, always was going to come down to me wearing this and all it stands for.”
“I think now, aye, this is the way of it. They’re cold, the gods, weaving their sticky webs.”
“I have that in me, and I’m saying this as cold-bloodedly as I know how. I’ll fight to live, Nan. I won’t break the pledge, but I’ll fight to live right up to that moment, if that moment comes.”
Because he’d walked so far already, Breen called Bollocks up on Boy to ride with her. To ease his worry, because she felt it from him, she stopped by the bay when Marg rode home.
Two mermaids sat on rocks, combing their hair while a half dozen young played in the water.
“Go. They want to play with you, and I like to watch.” Bending, she kissed him between his worried eyes. “I need the joy, too. Let’s take the fun. I really want it.”
So he ran into the water, where the young Mers welcomed him.
Watching the wonder of it, she leaned on Boy, felt his contentment in the breeze off the water.
“Daughter!” One of the mermaids, one with hair of gold and fire swirled together, called out to her. “Will you come closer?”
Breen walked to the edge of the water, then on impulse, pulled off her boots and waded into the shallows.
The one who spoke had eyes like deep, dark wells of green. “I am Alana, mother to Ala—and others who play here. Ala sometimes slips through to your side to play with the good dog in your bay there.”
“I didn’t know. I haven’t seen her there. I didn’t know that was possible.”
“She’s careful, and shy. Not with the good dog shy.” Alana smiled. “The portal opens in the sea as well. We guard it for Talamh and for the worlds beyond. My sister Lyra wonders why you don’t swim.”
“I’m not dressed for it. And not as hardy as the Mers in water so cold. I like to watch your young swim and play.”
“They have the curiosity about you.” Lyra spoke now as she continuedto run a luminous white comb through her ebony hair. “As do we all. I’ve traded with your friend, the human.”
“Marco.”
“Aye, and very, very handsome he is, for a human. He makes the young ones laugh with his jokes. He mates with the blue-eyed Sidhe, who is also handsome.”
“Brian. Yes, they’re pledged.”