So I Married a Sorcerer (The Embraced #2)(4)

Maeve grinned. “As ye can see, the game is nonsense. Besides, I have no desire to meet any man, no matter how tall or handsome. I plan to live the rest of my life with all of you at the convent.”

“Aye,” Sorcha agreed. “I’m not leaving my sisters for an elf in a pink gown. ’Tis naught but a silly game.”

“Exactly.” Gwennore gave Brigitta a pointed look. “So ye shouldn’t believe anything the stones say.”

They were doing their best to relieve her fear, Brigitta realized, and as her heart warmed, the ache in her stomach eased. “Thank you. What would I do without ye all?”

The ship lurched suddenly to the right, causing Brigitta and Maeve to fall against the padded wall of the window seat. The oranges rolled off the sideboard and plummeted to the wooden floor. Empty goblets fell onto the floor with a series of loud clunks.

Sorcha grabbed on to the table. “What was that?”

Loud shouts and the pounding of feet sounded on the deck overhead.

“Something is amiss,” Gwennore said as she gazed up at the ceiling. “They’re running about.”

Maeve peered out the window. “I believe we made a sudden turn to the south.”

“That would put us off course,” Gwennore murmured.

The door slammed open, and they jumped in their seats.

Mother Ginessa gave them a stern look, while behind her Sister Fallyn pressed the tips of her fingers against her thumbs, forming two small circles to represent the twin moons.

“May the goddesses protect us,” Sister Fallyn whispered.

“Stay here,” Mother Ginessa ordered, then shut the door.

“What the hell was that?” Sorcha muttered.

A pounding sound reverberated throughout the entire ship. Thump … thump … thump.

“Drums.” Gwennore rose to her feet. “The sailors beat them to set the pace. They must be using the oars.”

“Why?” Sorcha asked. “Is something wrong with the sails?”

Gwennore shrugged. “I suppose we need to go faster. Perhaps we’re trying to outrun another ship, but there’s no way to know unless we go up on deck.”

Sorcha slapped the tabletop with her hand. “Why do we have to stay here? I hate being in the dark.”

Brigitta clenched her fists, gathering handfuls of her skirt in her hands. The prediction was coming true, she knew it. Her stomach roiled again, and her heart thudded loud in her ears, keeping time with the drums.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

The drums pounded faster.

Beads of sweat dotted her brow, and she rubbed her aching stomach as she rose shakily to her feet. “The fate of the Telling Stones has begun.”

“Don’t say that.” Gwennore shook her head. “Ye cannot be sure.”

“I am sure!” Brigitta cried. She’d had eight months to consider this fate. Eight months to prepare herself. “’Tis happening now. And I will not remain hidden in this room, meekly accepting a future I do not want. I’m going on deck to face this me self.”

Sorcha jumped to her feet. “That’s the spirit!”

“Aye.” Maeve ran to the bed where they’d left their cloaks. “And we will go with you!”

They quickly slipped their brown cloaks over their cream-colored woolen gowns.

Gwennore rested a hand on Brigitta’s shoulder. “Ye don’t look well. Are ye sure ye’re up to this?”

Nay. Brigitta drew a deep breath. “I have to be…”

“Aye.” Gwennore gave her a squeeze. “Ye’ll do fine.”

“Come on!” Sorcha opened the door, and they filed into the narrow passageway, then climbed the steep wooden stairs to the deck. When they pushed open the door, it bumped into a dog that had been sitting in front of it.

“Julia!” Maeve cried out when she spotted the shaggy black-and-white dog. “It is you, aye?”

With a low growl, the dog backed away.

“How many times do we have to tell you?” Sorcha grumbled. “That dog is a he.”

Brigitta narrowed her eyes. The last time she’d seen this dog, he’d been guarding Luciana at the royal palace in Ebton.

“If I remember correctly, his name is Brody.” Gwennore squatted and extended a hand to the dog. “Is that right?”

With a soft woof, the dog placed his paw in her hand.

She grinned. “Good boy.”

“Nay, she’s too pretty to be a boy!” Maeve wrapped her arms around the dog, and he whimpered with a forlorn look.

“Why is Luciana’s dog here?” Sorcha asked.

Gwennore straightened. “I suppose she sent him to guard us.”

Brigitta studied the dog closely. “I’m more curious about the first time we met him. How did he end up on the Isle of Moon?” A strong breeze whipped some of her hair loose from her braid, and by the time she pushed it away from her eyes, the dog had slipped away.

At least, the cool spring breeze was making her stomach feel better. With a quick glance up, she noted the sails were full. They were mostly white, but two stripes crossed each sail diagonally in the colors of red and black, the royal colors of Eberon.

“What are ye doing here?” Mother Ginessa grabbed her and quickly pulled the hood of her cloak over her hair. “Ye mustn’t let anyone see you.”