Page 68 of Crown of Wings and Whispers

She shrugged.

Wickham looked to Annag, who then bent and whispered in Fallon’s ear. The child nodded again and said, “Yes.”

“Then let it be surrendered.”

The ancestors abandoned him to swirl around the child, speeding up as it did so. It rose to the height of Fallon’s head and held there for a few seconds before falling, slowly, to her feet. A blue smoke that matched the water of the cove leaked out to join with the green. The color was rich, the mist so thick it was nearly opaque. In no time at all, it had overcome the green, which receded for the most part, with just a strand appearing randomly inside the blue as it continued to churn.

Slower now, and slower still.

Fallon watched the mist as it rose the second time, amused by it as she’d been amused by the water. She lifted a hand as if she’d like to push it into a wave, but Wickham shook his head, ever so slightly, and her little hand dropped back to her side. Her bottom lip pushed out as she watched the mist rise over her head.

With the guiding gestures of Loretta and Lorraine, Wickham compelled it into the jar. But like Fallon herself, it resisted until the end. A tendril tried to slide down the back of the container unnoticed, but it was sucked into the opening with the rest. Persi took a step forward as if she might rush over and shut the lid, but Wickham raised his hand and waved her back. There was no telling what might happen if she came too close to the jar—or too close to the raw, blue power.

He closed the lid himself, sealed the container, then left Annag to praise Fallon while he took the lot away, beyond her reach. Beyond anyone’s reach.

* * *

When Wickham returnedto the cove, Fallon had opened her gift. The doll lay forgotten on the ground, its mermaid costume, which matched the dress Fallon now wore, was sprinkled with white sand. The tail of the half-buried, glittery ribbon fluttered in the weak breeze.

Fallon squatted at the edge of the water with her back to him, concentrating on something at her feet. Annag came to stand beside him. “Playing with tiny waves now. Happy as a clam. Normal as can be.”

Water splashed up and over the child’s head to land behind her and she laughed.

“Right, then. As normal as a young witch at least.”

Wickham would have preferred to take all the girl’s talents, just so he could sleep easier, but if he began wielding his power in that way, he worried it might corrupt him irreparably.

He eyed his friends, noted their happy faces. “Any more tugs on yer emotions?”

“None.”

Fallon turned to survey the beach, caught sight of him, and came running, her awkward fins flapping around her ankles. “Grandfather! Did ye bring any string?” When he shook his head, she took her smile and wandered away.

He studied Annag’s face, noted the usual furrow missing from her brow. “Ye seem pleased.”

“Auch, I am. And if she regrets what we’ve done here, when she’s older, we shall deal with it then. If I’m still about, I’ll explain it as best I can. But ye never ken.”

“If that day comes, maybe she’ll find Soni. As one Third to another, my niece can help the lassie see reason.” He spied the opportunity to offer more. “But Annag, I can wash away her memories of what’s transpired since the night Griffon took her. The pair of ye can go home again, safely now, and all this nonsense can be a dream.”

Annag’s gray curls slapped back and forth against her head as she shook it. “Certainly not. Griffon was one of the bright spots in her life. Let her remember him. Let her remember it all.”

Wickham nodded. “As ye wish, then.” They watched Fallon wander back to the doll, flick the sand away, and attempt to tie the ribbon around the little head. “Maybe her fondness for the ocean will wane.”

Annag laughed. “I think not. Look at Soni. Does she still care for the Highlanders she brought back to life?”

At that moment, Soni was seated on one of the chairs with her toes in the sand, blethering on about some such. Urban and Simon stood before her, hanging on every word. When the two of them broke out laughing, her eyes sparkled and she grinned like the dickens, as if she’d won a great prize.

“Aye. Aye, she does.”

“Any word from Griffon and Lennon?”

“Nay. Not a peep.”

“Dinnae worry,” Annag said with a smile. “She couldnae be in better hands.”

A wee coil of jealousy sneaked its way around his heart and gave it a squeeze, but he shrugged it off, and he reminded himself that, as much as any of them, Lennon Todd deserved to be happy. He only hoped it wouldn’t mean the doom of all those on the beach that morning…and the rest of the world besides.

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