The others were asleep around the hearth. She got up, stole out of the cottage and walked down towards Longmachlag Bay which was grey in the early dawn. Soon the ships were due to set sail. The wind outside had stilled and there was an unnerving emptiness in the air, heavy with silence. Even the water moved soundlessly against the shingle. Dread pressed down on her like a cloak of iron as she stood on the shore, watching the ships.
She saw people on the decks, as small as ants. Anchors were hoisted, sails set hopefully against a breath of air and long oars were lowered into the water. Then, one by one, to muffled cries from the captains, the ships began their passage out to sea, through the sharp rocks at either side of the bay, as through the teeth of monstrous jaws.
There was a rush of swelling water and the sea shifted from its natural ebb and flow, setting a new course, circling the bay, trailing the froth of breaking waves. Soon the sea surrounding the ships became agitated, like cream churning into butter, and the ships bobbed like flimsy toy boats. The blood drained from Kaetha’s face as the waves grew. Surges of water crashed upon the shore now and she staggered backwards. The ships rocked and distant voices sliced through the air, shouting commands, shrieking in panic.
This isn’t happening.
Oars waved furiously as one ship pushed itself into open sea only to meet a rolling wall of water. Her heart leapt to her throat as the ship dipped and rose. The wave roared like thunder, smashing into its side and hurling the hull into the rocks. She gasped, her hand pressing her mouth as she stood there, helpless. Solid oak shattered like pottery.
“No!” She could barely hear her own voice. “No!” She sank to her knees. The ship sank fast, dragging passengers and crew with it.
She held her breath as a second ship attempted to leave the bay, the one she believed carried her friends and companions. It rocked, creaked, took on water, oars at port and starboard moving in furious unison like wings. She finally breathed again when it rode the waves, steering cleanly through the mouth of the bay. She willed for Kahina and Naru to be alright, and Asrid and Margaret, and all the others.
The third ship was dragged into the middle of the bay spinning like a weathervane in a gale, lurching precariously. She felt a sensation like fingers tracing the skin of her neck and, amidst the chaos, her attention was drawn to many points in the bay and even into the sea beyond. Her mind stretched to the watery edges of their thoughts. Many Fuathans had gathered. If they didn’t have the power to help, who did?
Despite her riot of emotions, she forced herself to quieten her mind so that she could find her Air magic. Then, she reached for names. “Abhain, Sruth, Muir,” she said, staring at the sea near the shore. “Seol-Mara, Ronliath, Tarshruth,” she said, following the circling of the whirlpool. “Tonn-Laidir, Feamainn, Uisglas,” she said looking further out. She stretched her mind as far as she could, “Bruthack, Talam . . . Creaglas.”
She screwed her eyes shut as she tried to distinguish between the overlapping thoughts which passed like waves through her mind – a choir with each voice singing out of time, even if the song was the same one. Death comes like a shark in the shadows— What can we do?— In the name of Mother Moon and Daughter Tide— Can you hear them cry out?
She filled her mind as clearly and loudly as she could with her messages to them: Save the people of the shipwrecks. Rescue the drowning. Calm the sea. She repeated these thoughts over and over and over.
Who is that, some Annisith?— No, a mortal but she hears our thoughts like one— and sends us hers too— The Daughter of the Stars would not wish us to speak with her. The background murmur of thoughts thinned out as some broke her connection with them.
Please, she pleaded, trying to keep hold of those who still listened. This is murder. My friends are out there. Innocent people are suffering. You have the power to help them – you can’t just leave them to die!
More minds stole away but one drew close to hers. Seol-Mara?
You know my name, so hear my thoughts. We can do nothing. This power is greater than ours. But do not grieve. Remember these were mortals and so would have died anyway in time. With this, her connection to Seol-Mara was severed and she was left standing alone, watching in horror as the ship in the bay capsized, sinking fast into the deep water, now and then a face or an arm appearing then disappearing beneath the surface. Then the ship which had gone out into open sea surged back on a mammoth wave, crashing into the rocks. The faces of her friends passed through her mind as tears spilled down her cheeks.
Knowing that it was madness, she walked into the sea. With water up to her thighs, she reached a rowing boat which had been pulled out by the waves, clambered into it and pulled back the oars, arms tight as rope as she strained against the wilful current.
“Kaetha – no!”
Spray stung her eyes but she saw Donnan running down the beach.
“I have to do something!” she cried.
Waves kept thrusting her back towards the shore and she kept pushing to get further out, scanning the water for any sign of people struggling. The rowing boat tipped on the crest of a wave, plunging down again, pulling at the oars.
“Kit!” Donnan’s voice was muffled by the surging waves.
Water crashed over the side, tipping the boat.
“KIT!”
A shadow loomed. A huge wave swelling. Heart galloping, panic
