Page 7 of Crown of Tides and Fury

Our hostess raised her drink in the air. “To theSeanair.”

“To the Grandfather,” Persi said, though she had no glass for toasting. Kitch and I used the Scottish word.

Wickham nodded, thanked Annag, then pushed his glass toward the center of the table. “Let me explain why we’ve come to Tarbat Ness.”

Annag nodded and leaned back in her chair. “I cannae imagine.”

He smirked. “This is no short tale, so I’ll ask ye to bear with me.”

She nodded again.

“Have ye ever heard of The Covenant?”

She shook her head.

“A pact signed long, long ago between the originalSeanairand the King of the Fae, if ye can believe it.”

“Truly?”

“We’ve seen it, so aye, truly.”

The woman whistled, impressed.

“I’ll not explain the whole of what it contains, but the gist is this: there was a threat, ye see, from a Fae they called Ambition, who wanted all the king’s powers so he might become a god of sorts. They called them the Naming Powers. Have ye ever heard such a thing mentioned?”

She shook her head again, clearly disappointed she had no help to give.

Wickham continued. “So, to thwart Ambition, the king hid seven of the eight powers among those under the Grandfather’s care, keeping one back for himself.” He bit his lips and waited for Annag to take it in.

“To witches, then? Muir witches?”

“We believe so, aye. It was agreed that these powers could never be given, onlypassedto another through death. And if any of the Naming Powers were given away, the pact would be broken, and Ambition would be free to roam the earth and come huntin’ for them.”

“Like Satan loosed from his prison?”

“Aye. Something of the sort.”

“And what has this to do with Tarbat Ness?”

“First, I’ll tell ye…The Covenant was broken…over six years ago.”

Annag snorted. “Ye’re jokin’.”

“I wish I were. Ye see, I was there, with the previousSeanair, when it happened. His duty was to prevent it, as we’ve learned recently, so I have no ken why he would have agreed to such a thing.” Wickham shook his head, his mouth pinched in distaste. “In any case, my duty now is to keep this Ambition fellow from gathering the Naming Powers…by collecting and hiding as many as we can…before he learns which of the Muirs possess them.”

“I suppose, asSeanair,ye ken who has them?”

“Roughly. I ken the seven powers abide within the group of Muir witches we typically refer to asThirds.”

She nodded. “A Muir witch born of a Muir witch…born of a Muir witch.” She dropped her chin to her chest, no longer eager to look Wickham in the eye.

“Aye. And theonlylead we have…the first clue we’ve found…is that one of these powers drives the possessor to dwell on the North Sea, that she is drawn to the water, and sadly…ends her life by throwing herself to the waves.”

The woman bit her lips together for a long time. Eventually, she muttered, without looking up. “Many end their lives this way. There is no telling—”

“But how many are witches? How many areThirds?”

She shrugged and conceded his point. Then understanding dawned and she looked up with surprise. “Ye believeI’mthis witch ye seek!”

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