Page 48 of Beneath the Haunting Sea
But Rahn was not content, though she smiled and pretended to love her husband. She had never loved him, and now that she was bound to him she began to hate him, and to resent the beauty of their nine daughters.
Many years Rahn had waited, and her patience could only endure so long. When the Billow Maidens had lived for a century, Rahn turned to her husband and spoke to him: “Will you not show me, oh lord of the sea, the depth and height and breadth of your realm? I have dwelt long with you and seen only this Hall. It is beautiful, but you rule the whole sea, and there is a great longing in my heart to see more of it.”
Then Aigir was sad. “Are you not content in my Hall, that you should ask me this? There is much bitterness and evil in these wide waters, and those things cannot touch us in my Hall. Would you seek them out?”
“I would seek the marvels of the sea.”
“All the marvels of the sea dwell here at the base of the Tree,” said Aigir, and would speak of it no more.
But Rahn pressed him daily to show her his realm. It grieved him, for he saw her unhappiness, and knew she would not rest until he had granted her petition. He felt a great sense of unease, and the Star on his finger wavered a little in its eternal light.
Then Aigir at last relented, for he saw he should have no peace until he did so, and he could no longer bear to be the cause of Rahn’s discontent. He formed a ship out of seawater, translucent as glass, and bound it together with the power of the Star. He set Rahn within it, and they said farewell to their nine daughters, bidding them to keep the Hall until their return.
And then they set off into the depths.
They sailed far, and the sea god showed his wife the many wonders of the deep waters. Rahn pressed Aigir ever further and deeper, and as they went Rahn called in her mind the blue and silver serpents she had raised so long ago.
One day, Rahn asked Aigir if they might seek the surface and look into the light of the sun, and he saw a spark of evil in her countenance. Dread cried out a warning in his heart, but he could not deny her.
So Aigir drove the ship upward, and they had gone so many fathoms deep it took them three days until they broke the surface of the water. Dawn showed rosy on the horizon, and there was a cold edge on the air.
Rahn looked up at the sky and laughed, and Aigir saw in her the darkness she had hidden from him all the years she dwelt with him under the sea.
And Aigir was afraid.
“Why have you brought me here, daughter of light?”
Her eyes were bright with triumph. “So that you would be too far from the Tree to draw upon its strength to save your own life.” For Aigir had poured so much of his power into the Tree that when he was near it the Tree sustained him, and gave to him more might than he could have had alone. But this would be his undoing.
For Aigir saw in the dawning of the day the serpents which Rahn had awoken, and their scales flashed in the fire of the red sun. His heart broke, for he knew then that Rahn had never loved him. He wept, and the salt of his tears ran into the sea. “When you have slain me, oh daughter of light, what will you do?”
She smiled, and looked to him more beautiful than the night he first heard her song.
“When you are dead, oh lord of the sea, I will take the Star from your finger, and claim all your realms. I will rule the waters of the world in your stead, and one day perhaps the land as well.”
He looked at her and smiled for the last time under the sun, but his smile was laced with sorrow. “I love you, Rahn of my heart. I would have given you the Star. You need only to have asked.”
Then Rahn grew angry because of his compassion. She looked into the eyes of the blue and silver serpents and spoke one terrible Word, and it was Death.
And the serpents fell upon Aigir and rent him into pieces, and his blood stained the water, mingling red with the reflection of the rising sun.
Then Rahn took the Star from Aigir’s hand and put it on her own, and she was glad.
And she bound the serpents to the ship that Aigir had made, and they bore her many leagues across the sea until she saw once more the Tree raising its branches to the heavens.
She dissolved the ship and set the serpents as guards about the Tree, that they might slay anyone who thought to descend into Aigir’s Hall and take the Star from her finger.
Then Rahn gazed upon the glittering Hall and saw that she had no one to rule but her daughters, who wept over their harps. So she wove nets of seaweed and silver and moonlight, and drew to her all the dead of the sea.
And Rahn clothed the dead in silver garments and made them dance before her at the base of the great Immortal Tree, which had once borne food for the gods.
So the Hall of Aigir was filled with darkness, and what once had been good was made a mockery.
And she who wielded the Star sat upon her throne, and laughed.
Chapter Twenty
ASPATTERING OF RAIN RATTLED AGAINSTthe library window, and Talia jerked her head up from the book. Far below, the waters of the Northern Sea reached for the shore and shrank back again, a constant battle, a constant loss.
