Page 81 of Beneath the Haunting Sea
It was freezing; the horses’ breath fogged in front of them, and Talia’s toes were already going numb. She swung up onto Ahdairon, and Wen mounted Avial, taking the lantern Ahned handed him.
Wen nudged the gelding into a trot, and Talia followed on the mare, the wind sharp and icy on her skin. The lantern bobbed from Wen’s saddle, a wayward star in the dark.
They arrivedalmost before she was ready to, trotting up to the house, light spilling from the windows like liquid gold onto the snow-covered drive. Wen swung down and handed his reins to Talia while he went to speak with the housekeeper. She sat and waited for him, staring up at the hesitant winter stars peeking through a patch of cloud.
Wen and Anira came out a few minutes later, the housekeeper all hugsand smiles, Wen solemn and steady beside her.
“Miss Dahl-Saida,” said Anira, helping Talia off Ahdairon. “I was so sorry to hear about the Baron’s passing. A little peace and quiet will do you good, I’m sure of it.”
Wen untied the bags, and the tall servant who reminded Talia so strongly of Ahned took them inside. “If you need anything, just send word. I’ll come as quickly as I can.”
She lookedat Wen, standing there in the drive with his hands stuffed into his pockets, and she wished suddenly that he would stay with her. “Are you going to be all right?”
He shrugged. “I’m always all right.”
“No, you’re not.” She brushed her fingers briefly across his sleeve. “I’m sorry about your father.”
He caught her hand with his own, pressed it tight. “I’m a ride away if you need anything. Goodbye,Talia.”
And then he swung back up onto the gelding and rode away into the winter darkness, leaving her with a faint sensation of loss that didn’t quite fade with his hoofbeats.
Chapter Thirty-Five
IN THE MORNING, TALIA PULLED ON Aworn gown and slipped downstairs, nearly colliding with Anira and a laden breakfast tray.
“I was just about to bring this up for you, Miss.”
“I fear I’m not hungry just yet. I actually wanted to ask if I could borrow a shovel.”
“A shovel?”
Talia shoved her hands in her pockets and tried to look innocent. “I thought I’d do some gardening.”
The old servingwoman raised her eyebrows, laughter lines crinkling her papery cheeks. “While it’s still winter? Dearie, you aren’t going to be gardening.”
Talia opened her mouth to protest, but Anira held up one hand. “Master Wendarien left instructions that you need quiet and peace. We’re not to interfere with any … gardening … you might wish to do.” She winked. “I’ll find you that shovel.”
And that was that.
She slogged through the snow down to the hidden cove, the shovel slung over her shoulder, a lantern dangling from one hand.
She set to work, beginning the long job of digging the ship out of the sand. It was harder than she thought, and she regretted skipping breakfast. She dug and dug, until her hands started to blister and the sea crept in at her heels, knocking over thelantern. The light snuffed out.
Talia yelped, and scrambled out onto the shore again.
This was going to take much longer than a day.
She trudged back to the Ruen-Shained, vowing to be better prepared tomorrow.
For the rest of the day she poured through the books she’d brought from the library, searching for further mentions of journeying to Rahn’s Hall. Anira brought her tea. The white catcurled up on her feet and fell asleep, but Talia didn’t notice.
She read a book about Ryn’s history, and found an interesting tidbit about the Ruen-Dahr: It was reportedly built by a sailor nearly four centuries earlier in order to “set a watch on the sea.” Talia found the phrasing intriguing, especially considering how similar it was to the end of the myth about Lida and Cyne. Their childrenhad “set a watch” because of Rahn. Was that the purpose of the Ruen-Dahr?
Talia didn’t want to think about that. She shut the book and switched to one about ship repair.
When night came, she left her books in the parlor and went upstairs to the cozy room Anira had given her. A white moon looked in through her window as she pulled the dead Baronesses’ gowns from the carpetbags and took them apart,seam by seam.
It was very late when she’d finished, but sleep was awhile coming. Even here, a mile away from the sea, she could hear the music, twisting in her mind, burrowing into her heart. Calling her down to Rahn’s Hall. When at last she slept, the haunting melodies followed her into her dreams.
