Page 66 of Duncan

“I asked that I might use the thing one last time. ’Twill become his after ’tis done.” He turned it over in his hands. “Changing a life, ’tis a great and terrible power. We forced such on mortal females for centuries. Duxor used his to create the monstrous sea-shifters. Now I shall change one last life, only this time, for love.”

Meg almost jumped to her feet to run away, but what would her life be without Merrick? An eternity of emptiness.

“Ever I’ll hate your world,” she reminded him as she closed her eyes. “So expect me in a wretched mood until my last day.”

“Aye, ’twas my thought as well.” He chuckled. “Mayhap ’twill work out better if we do thus differently.”

She didn’t understand what he meant until a blade nicked her wrist, and then looked down to see him squeeze a drop of her blood onto a spiral symbol on the crown. Dark violet shadow and golden light enveloped Merrick, who stood up as the magic began to change him. The webbing between his fingers and toes vanished, and the gill slits on his throat shrank until they, too, disappeared. By the time the power dissipated, Merrick’s appearance had altered from that of an unearthly handsome aquatic to that of a lean, muscular warrior—and his golden hair had acquired a scattering of fiery red streaks as well.

He drew in a deep breath, and released it slowly before he held up his hands. “I reckoned the change should pain me greatly. ’Twas rather like swimming through the waters of a hot spring. Rather pleasant, except around my baws.”

Meg grabbed his arms. “What did you? Go you mad? You cannae become a mortal.”

“I’m but half-mortal, like you.” He kissed her brow. “Half-Fae and half-Selseus, if Duncan’s advice holds true. I expect ’twill; my body yet seems powerful and enduring, only I’ve no particular desire go swimming or breathe sea water.”

No one had ever done such a thing for her sake. Her gruesome mother had abandoned her; the mortal who had pretended to be her sire had sold her to slavers. Lady Joana, who had been like the mother she had ever dreamed of, had left her behind when she’d ended herself. Even Lady Valerie, who did care for her, had agreed to send her away to serve the MacKays. They likely wouldn’t notice she had not returned to their farm.

No one had ever truly loved and wanted her, save Merrick. The mighty king of the Finfolk had changed for her, an Érieann serving wench with no name, no kin and no dowry. She could not let him do this, not for any love he believed he possessed for her.

“Change yourself back,” Meg demanded.

“We’re no’ like you, lass. A Selseus thus transformed cannae again change,” Merrick told her. “So we may live together on the land. Only I must regularly visit the sea, for I plan serve as advisor for Laird MacMar and King Jamaran, if they’ll have me. I must also parlay with the whale-killer pods and convince them return to our waters, for no creature’s better at helping us defend Caladh. If no’, then I may take up chambermaiding.” He grinned and put his arms around her. “If ’tis the case, shall you serve as my tutor, my lady?”

“No, Merrick.” All of her sorrow disappeared as she touched his face. “I’ll wed you, and love you forever.”

JULIANNE INSISTED Nicole join her and the other women as they walked out to the Stone Forest.

“I know you and Duncan need to plan your wedding—so do Shaw and me, so we should do a double,” the lifeguard said. “Only I promised my aunt I’d bring you four with me.”

Valerie stopped her. “Jules, your aunt doesn’t exist in this time. I’m not even sure she exists in any time.”

“In my dream she said time isn’t a consequence, or something like that.” The lifeguard shrugged, and then her expression brightened as she looked ahead. “Oh, wow, that light show did more than clean up the mess out here, huh?”

Nicole saw the Stone Forest had been transformed entirely from a petrified wood to one that appeared bursting with new life. At least a hundred new saplings had sprung up from the ground, and every grown tree had heavy canopies of new leaves. Squirrels gracefully bounced through the grasses before they made leaps onto the trunks; a large brown rabbit eyed them from its burrow between the roots of a huge willow.

Only one tree still remained petrified, she noticed. The one that had pierced the enchantress with its limbs had turned black last night. It looked almost ashen now, as if it might soon collapse and blow away. As for Derdrui, what little that had remained of her after the Cait Sith had converged on her had vanished completely. Since the shifters had also been transformed like the Stone Forest, none of them seemed to recall any of the events after crossing the mist barrier.

Nicole sensed they would never remember who was their Fae parent, or what they had done to her.

“Fair morning, my ladies.” Speal came out from behind one of the broad-trunked alders, a basket of acorns in her hands. “Do you come so you may speak with the elder?” She gestured toward one of the oldest-looking ash trees.

“Yes, that’s why we’re here,” Julianne told her, and waved Nicole and the others over to the tree. She put her hands on the trunk, which split vertically to form a narrow doorway.

“Can all of us even fit through that?” Caroline asked, looking skeptical.

“If I can, you can.” The lifeguard stepped into the tree and disappeared from sight.

Nicole exchanged a look with the other women before she followed. Inside she found Julianne standing with an older woman in a large room with a brown floor, pale green walls and a light yellow ceiling. Against one wall stood a duplicate of the blackened stone tree where Derdrui had met her gruesome end.

“Okay, I brought everyone, Aunt Klee. So where’s the fire?” Julianne demanded. “By the way, we can’t stay in the forest world with you like I did before, kay? We’ve got husbands and a clan and a magical island to look after now.”

“Take a moment and look into the future, my dear child.” The woodland goddess smiled a little as she went to stand beside the ash tree. With her long green fingers she touched the scorched section on the trunk, which turned to transparent glass.

The image of a young, pretty woman in a dingy-looking bathroom appeared. She hovered over the mold-stained sink, shaking pills out of a bottle onto her palm.

Valerie took in a quick breath, and looked as if she’d been punched in the stomach. “That’s my first husband’s lover, Candace Wilcox.”

“After she knocked your car off the lake bridge, she drove to this motel,” Klee said, nodding. “I expect she’s planning her escape.”