The Secret of the Emerald Sea (21 page)

Chapter Fifty-Two

Minerva fell down hard into the forest, the earth rising up fast, much too fast, to meet her. Yet her landing was gentle. The goddess could not be harmed; her body was but a shell, masking her power. She straightened her robes and smoothed her auburn hair as her eyes took in everything around her.

Looking to the sky, she noticed nothing but the overcast grayness of another bleak day. Stolidly, she trudged through the solemn January landscape, looking up and thinking of the oracle at Delphi. Most of the words she had spoken were clear, surprisingly free of riddles and hidden meanings, or so it had seemed at the time. But was she missing something, some crucial clue that she had not grasped.

She thought of the L that had appeared on her wrist next to the snakebite, and she shivered in the cold late morning. She must find the girl, and she knew she was here. She needed no compass, for her spirit would lead her where she needed to go. She looked down at the shining pearl on her finger, and she was grateful for it for the forest was vast and dense with trees, and she was all alone with only her wisdom and intuition as companions.

She knew the basic direction of Lynnshire, but she would avoid the town at all costs. There was danger there until the girl was safe and sound with her. She walked through rough pathways into the labyrinth of foliage, listening, watching, and waiting. She heard nothing but the swooshing sound of leaves and branches as they moved with the wind.

She tried not to think of her home, so warm and serene, and with the help of Venus, now so bright and cheery. She had chosen this path, and she had no time to look back. She wandered the forest until nightfall, her soft boots making a gentle footfall on the forest floor. Though she was not human, she felt tired and weary, and more than a little frustrated.

She sat down on a cold, wet log to collect herself and rest for a while. That was when she heard the cry of something in the distance, an animal, or perhaps a bird of prey...some piercing wail that seemed like nothing she had ever heard before. She stood up quickly and moved toward the sound, which echoed in the air. She looked to the sky as she watched. The moon was waxing, not yet full, but it provided much light as she ran toward the wailing cry, which grew louder and louder against the eerie silence of the winter night.

She saw the creature. It was beautiful. She smiled in wonder as it stretched in front of a little cave and spread its wings. It was rising, rising up into the night sky, a beautiful man, as handsome as Venus was beautiful, but with the vast, snow white wings of a great falcon.

Its wailing ceased as it rose ever higher, and a smile of absolute pleasure and peace spread across its features as its wings gently started moving against the January winds. She was spellbound, too mesmerized to even cry out. She wished she could fly alongside the creature and share his primitive joy.

She watched the creature bank in the air like a graceful bird. He started to turn in wide circles. He was rippled with muscles, and his skin glowed with a deathly pallor, and yet, he was beautiful, more beautiful than any man, or any god, that she had ever seen. He shared the best elements of man and beast, and his eyes glowed deepest sapphire blue as he stared down and saw her. She smiled into his face, totally unafraid. She was certain he would recognize her for what she was, and he smiled back, and then he gracefully flew toward her and landed softly, folding his snowy wings around his naked body, clad only in a sort of loincloth.

“Hello,” he said, staring into her eyes. She felt some mystical understanding pass between them. “Are you the one who saw me fly over the village?” he asked her, and his voice was a god’s voice, resonant and deep, proud and fierce with intelligence.

“No,” Minerva answered. “This is the first time I have ever seen you, and I shall never, ever forget it.” She stared into his face, feeling some recognition, but she could not say why, at first. Then it dawned on her who he looked like. Why, he was the spitting image of Venus; all his features were hers...the Cupid’s bow mouth, so finely carved, and the sculpted nose, and the eyes, like jewels...he had to be the son of Venus...the Cupid himself who had been stolen away as a child by Pluto and hidden somewhere. They’d never known what place...to punish Venus for choosing another.

“Cupid?” she asked gently. “My darling, is it you?”

The Cupid’s eyes filled with tears, as a young girl who had watched from the cave, frozen with terror, came closer to the mouth of the cave so that she would hear every word that passed between them.

It is her...the princess!
Minerva thought, her heart elated.
She is beautiful!

“Yes,” the Cupid replied, shaken. “I know my name is Cupid, but I know not how I know, for until recently, I spent my whole life alone on an island, and I had no one to tell me my name.”

“Your mother loved you, my dear. We searched the worlds for you for so long. I fear you were under the spell of the Evil One, Pluto, who made it impossible for you to be found. Your mother named you Cupid and she loved you well from the first moment you were placed in her arms. You were the most beautiful baby I have ever seen, and I think you were placed under an enchantment so that you could not come home to us.” She went forward and embraced him, kissing his cheek. “You are the son of Venus, the Goddess of Love herself, and now that I have found you, I can help you go to her. I am Minerva, and the oracle at Delphi, the Pythia, told me where to find you, my child. Otherwise, I could never have seen through the enchantments placed upon you.”

“My mother will be disappointed,” the Cupid said ruefully, pulling Minerva toward the cave where a merry fire burned hot and bright. “For there is something wrong with me that I am half-child and half-man and I only look this way sometimes. I change into a creatures who flies and feels power and strength, but then, come morning, I am like a little child again, a little child of twenty-four months.”

“That is Pluto’s doing,” she said, her eyes filling with tears. “We will work to undo his magic and allow you to be free all of the time, not just when you change. Jupiter will help us. He has missed you too, my darling. I am your godmother, Cupid, and I love you well, so well. There will be a great celebration when you come to us in the Sunlit Cloud and take your rightful place. Have you still your arrows?”

For he had been born with them, with golden arrows that were rich with magic and purpose.

“I have one of them,” he said, as they entered the cave where Jane watched them, her eyes huge with wonder. “It is a long story, Minerva, but I will tell you soon. Not now, though, for I must get you warm by our fire, and introduce you to Jane, the daughter of King Neptune.”

Jane smiled shyly and inclined her head in greeting. Minerva admired her fragile beauty and her sensitive eyes. Minerva ran to the girl and held her close. “At last, Jane, at last. I have looked for you for some time, and Neptune pines for you. He begged me to find you.” Jane’s face tightened at the sound of her father’s name, and so Minerva murmured comforting words to the girl who shortly thereafter burst into tears.

“No, my dear, Neptune has made mistakes, but he is sorry, so sorry. He is not what you think. He is a gentle god, only he wanted you so much, and he lost control.” She sat down next to the girl, who was thin, and pale, and looked heartbroken, but seemed generally healthy and strong.

“You will forgive him, I know, for I, too, once had the wrong impression of him, and I am Goddess of Wisdom.” Minerva chuckled a little. “I too thought him rash, foolhardy, and vain...but that is just the surface of him, my girl. There is a great heart in him that loves you dearly, and longs for your forgiveness.”

* * * *

Jane curled up in the woman’s arms. It had been so long since she had felt the mothering touch of another woman. She cried in great, rasping sobs, for she had been through much, and she felt sure this woman could help them. Through all of Jane’s heartbreak with Blake, and her loss of her grandmother and her village, she had never dreamed that someone would save her from this life of wandering and fear.

It was like a dream, and her heart softened even toward Neptune who had sent this goddess into the dark winter forest to guard them and take them to a better place.

* * * *

Minerva marveled at the pair, the beautiful pair, at their closeness, as though they were a part of one another. They finished each other’s sentences as they began to tell their story, and they stared at each other as though each was a miracle to the other.

Jane noticed the way Minerva looked at them, and she tried to explain. “We do not see each other this way very often. This is only the second time Cupid has shown himself to me...as a man,” she said, smiling. “Usually, he is a little boy who looks like a perfect doll, and I carry him on my hip like any mother or big sister would.”

She made the pair tell her the full story of their journey together, and she was hungry to see all the pieces of the puzzle put together in their proper order. They had suffered, and they had struggled to survive. Jane spoke haltingly of a boy in the village named Blake. She clearly adored him. Minerva saw the Cupid’s eyes cast down as Jane told her about the boy and how she feared for him, but the danger was so great. Something was there in the village, and she felt that is would kill her...and the Cupid. She had to leave, but the boy was there, all alone, with whoever it was.

The Cupid had assured her that Blake was safe for the moment, she said, but she was distraught with worry, and she felt terrible guilt for running away like a coward and leaving him there unwarned.

“Shhhh,” she said, leaning over to stroke the girl’s cheek. “You were both right. Someone waits in the village, intent to destroy you and whoever works with you. You had no choice but to leave. I will get you safe, and then I will check on the boy and take care of the witch who is swollen with Hecate’s power. Hecate is an agent of Pluto, and they curse me and wish me destroyed, and you too.”

“What witch?” the Cupid asked. “Who is she?”

“She hides in the village...and she waits. For what I know not. I have seen her soul, and she is all death and blackness. I fear she had killed already, and she will start the Great War between all of the gods, the terrible battle that has long been prophesied, if she has her way. She must be stopped, but first, we must return Jane to her father, and that is not as easy as it sounds.”

“I won’t live apart from him,” Jane said, looking at the Cupid.

“We will work something out, my dear,” Minerva answered. “All the gods are friendly, and we all see one another. All except the Gods of the Underworld, who only bring with them grim reapers and death and sins beyond all measuring. Why, I have been to your father’s kingdom many times, and even have a special tail of my own, which is quite pretty.”

Jane held the Cupid’s hands and the trio talked long into the night. Cupid confessed to Minerva that he now felt a hatred for Pluto that bordered on madness. He said he dreaded the dawn when the spell would start anew and he would be reduced to a child who had to be carried about.

Minerva stayed in the cave with them that night. The next day, there was work to be done, and she stared at her ring in the darkness. She felt a feeling of immense pride that she should succeed at bringing the Sea God’s daughter back to him. She felt great peace and joy to see the son of Venus, and she blessed the Pythia, saying prayers to her and her serpent before she went to sleep.

She had her people around her. They were all a part of each other, and she could finish what she had to do and arrive home triumphant. Venus would be in ecstasy, for she was haunted by the loss of the boy, and she loathed and feared Pluto more than any other being. No one had ever been able to prove that he’d stole the little cherub, but no one ever doubted it had been him.

No one spoke of the Cupid, not for decades now, for it hurt the Goddess of Love too much. But all wished they had the strength, or perhaps the courage, to avenge her loss.

I will avenge her
, Minerva vowed as she curled up near the pair, watching their breath rise and fall in the firelit cave.
I will not fail
.

Chapter Fifty-Three

The next morning, Blake woke up from his dreams and realized it was close to ten o’clock. Every day he’d slept later and later, unwilling to leave to peace and joy of his dreams for his waking world of grief and heartaches. He thought of Jane, who was out there somewhere, and who might be in trouble, all alone with a small child and little money.

How could I have failed her so
? he would ask himself, sinking back into the cushions of his comfortable bed. Later in the day, when his head had cleared and he was involved with the new and unfamiliar tasks of running the estate, he would imagine himself walking out of the village with only a pack on his back to find the girl and her brother, but he never took the first courageous step and moved out of dreams into reality. Something would also make him doubt himself. Liesel, in particular, had drawn him out about Jane and the Cupid, and she was certain they were responsible for the death of his father.

He knew now that his father was not coming back, and that he was indeed inside the cold stone forever. No kidnappers came forward with any ransom demands. All was nothingness. Liesel made him feel at least a glimmer of doubt in Jane, and she even told Lady Stirling what she thought. The elder woman had not realized his son had been seeing this little blond fortune teller who had disappeared at such a suspicious time. She did not know what to believe for the word in the village was that the girl was sweet and kind, and only hated for her beauty, if she was hated at all.

No one at the Crown of Thorns put much stock in Jane as being the culprit. That was just the jealous meanness of the local girls. The good hearted of the villagers all thought that Jane had heard about what happened that night and fled in terror. They, themselves, had thought about leaving, but the roads out of town seemed more dangerous than anything else, and so they had stayed.

As yet, no other bad things had occurred, and while the village remained on edge, they felt safer with every day that passed. Life went on, as is did no matter what happened. The lord had not been a friend of theirs, and he passed unmourned by all but a few who really knew him. Once the initial shock wore off, people returned to their lives, wary but determined to live as they always did.

Only Blake and his mother were haunted by the terrible event. They had loved the brusque man who had loved them back, in his own way. No suspects were found, and no closure could be hoped for. The petty constable was sorry, but there was little evidence to work with, and even the detective from the city had agreed, the presence of black magic could not be ruled out. The investigation went on, but both men knew the trail was cold and would likely remain that way. They felt terrible about this when the family questioned them in tears, asking about the case.

Blake spent his free time with Liesel after the first tea-addled days since his father had died. She would come by in the morning for a cup of India tea and some sweets that the kitchen would make for her. She would listen to him read poetry, but there was little passion now, only words spoken aloud. She would sit close to him, and he would imagine her as the angel he saw in his dreams, and he would let her take his hand and hold it.

He knew his mother was still burdened with grief, and did not care much about the two being together as long as servants were around to serve as chaperones.

* * * *

That day, Liesel felt, as she always did, the ticking of the clock, the passing of time. At any moment, she could lose her youth and terrify the boy by changing into her true self. Waiting the three days that were needed to bind the spell with her witch’s brew, the special tea, had been torture for her. She grew bolder as her heart ached for the touch of the young boy, who was, she was sure, quite innocent. That morning, she asked him to come visit her in the evening once the sun was down. Would he come to her room?

“I...don’t think...that would be proper...” Blake stammered, flushing red.

Liesel laughed. “Oh now, don’t be silly. There will be people about, maids and all the rest. It is not incorrect. I want to show you something, something special, that I have for you...and you can get more tea. I have a new package for you.”

She watched Blake as he wavered. He wanted the tea as much as anything, she knew this, and part of him was drawn to Liesel anyway. She was his only friend now. If he had some questions about her provenance— she was maddeningly hazy with regard to her family, schools, and all the rest of his questions about her past, and she was sure this bothered him— he kept them to himself. Liesel was certain she had some power over him, but was it love?

Tonight, he would come to her, and she would try as hard as she could to put the past behind him, but she was not sure she could. The beauty of Jane was burned into his heart, and this made her hate. He had told her Jane’s soft kiss had been like a poem he could not forget, repeated endlessly in his soul.
Once I have Blake where I want him, I’ll take care of you, my princess
, she vowed.
Wherever you are
.