Born Of Nothing

14

I looked to Fen with surprise, and a hint of panic stirred in the back of my mind. Leave Ireland? It made sense if he needed to stay hidden, so why did my gut churn at the thought? Surely, I was just uneasy about sending someone so green off into the world. There was no question he needed more time to learn and adapt. That was it, I told myself as I struggled to swallow the lump in my throat. Becca began to riffle through the contents of her purse before pulling out a card. “Fen, this is my business card—it has the name of the museum with my phone number and address on it. If you need to find me, use this, but only if it’s an emergency. Guin has her people watching us, and I don’t want them spotting you and asking questions.” She handed over the card, and he slipped it into his back jeans’ pocket. “Believe me, I have no desire to draw Guin’s attention,” he offered coolly. She gave him a tight smile and waved. “I’m so glad you’re away from that awful place. Please be safe while we’re gone; one of us will be back soon.” His deep brown eyes caught mine, a warning in their depths. Was he trying to tell me not to come? Or was I letting my mother’s prejudices color my perceptions? I guessed I would find out, because come hell or high water, I was going to make my way back to Strabane. OceanofPDF.com 7 Considering the recent unexpected turn of events my life had taken, I wondered if the Gods were toying with me when I opened the door and my eyes landed on a ginger-haired woman. Rebecca introduced her companion as Cat, but all I could see was Hilde. Red coiling curls piled on top of each other in a battle for dominance framed her delicate features. Her creamy skin was dotted with freckles, and her eyes were the vibrant green of freshly sprouted spring leaves. Much greener than Hilde’s had been. Cat was petite and familiar in so many physical respects, but it quickly became evident that the similarities between the two women was purely superficial. There was a haunting innocence in Cat’s eyes that my Viking warrior had never possessed. Cat was demure where Hilde was brash and bold, but the visual reminder of my prior life was still unsettling. The first time I laid eyes on Hilde, she was clad in leathers, alone on a rocky shoreline on the Nordic coast. She would have preferred death over being forced to wear a frilly dress, nor would she have kept to feminine chores like cooking or stitching. I found my Hilde in the crisp morning hours, masterfully wielding an axe to chop a mountain of piled wood. Her red curls, as disobedient as she, sprang free from the simple braid she had plaited to contain the unruly locks. I approached from behind, and though I could not see her face, that first sight of her was a vision I would never forget. My first thought was that she reminded me of the Valkyrie soldiers Queen Guin had amassed as her personal guard. The all-female Fae warriors were impressively fierce, and this human woman would have easily been their equal as she chopped at a stack of wood with singleminded ferocity. She never turned in my direction, nor otherwise hinted at her awareness of my presence. Captivated, I watched for some time before her sultry voice called out to me. “You watch me with the eyes of a hawk, am I to be your prey?” Her steady voice was calm but firm, and only after she finished, did she slowly swivel her head to where I stood in the tree line some distance behind her. She kept the axe clasped in her deceptively strong hands and stared at me with challenge in her eyes. As if she wasn’t already beguiling enough, the sight of her face solidified my fate. High cheekbones and full lips were the perfect feminine compliment to her rugged apparel and fearless demeanor. I was hopelessly ensnared in her thrall. “The hawk does not eat the fox. It is his worthy adversary, as they are both hunters after the same prey.” I had spent some time in the Nordic lands and picked up the language quickly. I might even have passed for a local had my dark coloring not marked me undoubtedly as a foreigner. “Equals?” she asked with cautious curiosity, turning the rest of her body to face me. She was not particularly curvy, but something about seeing her in men’s leather trousers made my own pants suddenly too tight for comfort. I simply nodded, not trusting my voice to keep from going guttural with want. Her chin lifted a fraction and the corners of her mouth curved up. “If they are equals, they should work together, and they could catch twice the prey in half the time.” I could not help responding with a grin as I retrieved my own axe from where it hung off my pack. She did not flinch as I approached, placed a log on the stump she was using, and sliced my axe down with resounding force. We worked together in companionable silence, just our grunts and the thwack of our axes filling the crisp air. Once each log in her pile had been reduced to the appropriate size, she tossed her axe to the ground and walked to the rocky shoreline where she sat facing the sea. I followed her lead, sitting at an appropriate distance so as not to alarm her. “You are not from these parts, that much is clear,” she mused, turning her eyes from the dark waters. The day had been pleasantly mild. Even the sea was placid and as still as deep waters could be.