A great flash of light and tumbled jarring rocked the sleeping ship. Almost as one, her crew leaped from their beds and rushed about, trying to find any damage the blast might have caused.
"Man the tiller, Doubar!" Sinbad called to his first mate and big brother. "Firouz, where’s Bryn?"
It was soon obvious to all involved that Bryn, their resident sorceress, was not on deck. Sinbad shook the drizzling rain from his long hair in frustration. He always seemed to have to look around for that girl. She was continually getting into trouble in one way or another, though it was never intentional. Maeve would never act that way, he thought to himself, then immediately squelched that thought. True, Maeve wouldn’t get lost or make a nuisance of herself by trying to press unwanted help on the sailors. Maeve knew who she was and what she was good at, and Bryn…Bryn simply didn’t. He sighed again, knowing he shouldn’t be comparing the little, dark-haired sorceress with his Maeve, because in his eyes she would never measure up. Maeve owned his heart, and no one could be as good as her in his eyes.
Blinking fat raindrops from his dark lashes, Sinbad ran downstairs again, intent on expressing his frustration to the tiny empath. He burst into the sorceress’ cabin, unprepared for the sight that met his eyes.
Bryn was sitting on her bunk, her arms clutching another body in a tight embrace. Horrible, gut-wrenching sobs came from the other person, and Sinbad felt his heart stop.
The woman Bryn held was Maeve.
"Hush," Bryn soothed, and Sinbad took a step forward to see what was happening. Maeve was crying recklessly, hysterically, and it seemed as if the only thing keeping her whole was the pressure of the other sorceress’ arms about her. Shocked, Sinbad wondered what had happened to his beautiful, self-possessed sorceress to make her sob in such a way. That she was back on his ship again after so long didn’t even register in his mind at the moment. All he knew was that Maeve was hurting, and her pain left a gaping wound in his heart.
Maeve’s red head shook against Bryn’s shoulder. Her breath caught as she tried to speak. "It’s all my fault!" she cried, her self-accusing tone making Sinbad flinch. "I lost it; it’s all my fault!"
"There, aschula, it’s not your fault," Bryn soothed as if speaking to a young child. "You had nothing to do with this, Maeve, nothing."
Bryn looked up and noticed the captain standing in the doorway for the first time. Her eyes flashed with relief, and she beckoned him forward. Sinbad came towards them and touched Maeve’s shoulder tentatively. She felt warm and solid and real. He drew her carefully into his arms, not sure how she would respond.
"What’s wrong, Maeve?" he asked, whispering the question against her skin. Her whole body tensed, and he felt her pull away. Bryn shrugged helplessly at him and closed her arms around Maeve’s form again. Sinbad sat beside them, not touching Maeve but refusing to leave her side.
Eventually Maeve fell asleep, still crying. Sinbad watched the rather eerie sight with trepidation. Tears slipped out from beneath her closed eyelids, darkening her beautiful lashes before running down her cheek in glittering streaks. He reached out and brushed them away, but more tears simply took their place.
Looking up toward Bryn with worry in his eyes, Sinbad asked, "What happened?"
Bryn lay Maeve down and covered her with a blanket. Beckoning for Sinbad to follow, she left the cabin.
Just outside, Sinbad stopped and turned to her. "Okay, Bryn, joke’s up," he said. "What is Maeve doing here, and how do you know her?" His voice brooked no arguments.
"I knew Maeve long before you did, Sinbad," Bryn said calmly. "She and I studied magic together under the same sorceress when we were younger. Then Maeve left to study under Dim-Dim and I stopped studying altogether."
"I thought you didn’t know anything about your past." Sinbad’s tone was accusing.
"My memories were purposely taken from me," she replied, still calm. "I do not remember what I just told you; I merely repeat what Dim-Dim told me." She gave him a measuring look. "As for what Maeve is doing here, I brought her here because this is the one place, besides the Island of Dawn, where she has ever felt at home. And she is hurting right now, Sinbad, and needs to be in a place where she feels safe."
"What happened to her?"
Bryn sighed. She looked angry, little Bryn actually looked angry, though not at him or Maeve. "Rumina. She found out about Maeve’s…condition…and decided to have some fun."
"What condition?"
Bryn paused. "You’d better sit down, Sinbad."
"Okay, now you’re scaring me," he said, sitting down on a bench. What he really wanted to do at the moment was go in to Maeve, hold her in his arms, try to take away her pain. Even now he could feel her suffering, and he couldn’t bear it. It felt as if something inside had been ripped asunder and thrown far beyond reach.
"I’m sorry, Sinbad, but this is kind of serious." She paused again. "I’ve known Maeve for a long time," she said, "longer than you have. She’s gone through a lot in her life: orphaned at an early age, she took care of herself as she grew up. Her only surviving relative, her brother, has been ensorcelled by an evil spell and she cannot break it."
"But what has that to do with—"
"Peace, Sinbad!" Bryn said, in a considerably harsher tone than he’d ever heard her use before. "You and Maeve…were close before she left. I know that. There is a special bond between you. Dim-Dim hoped to nurture this bond, and that’s why he left her with you in the first place." She raised her eyes up to his, and her voice turned dry and sarcastic. "He didn’t expect you to sleep with her."
Sinbad turned beet red. "How did you—?"
Bryn chuckled lowly. "I know more than you think, Captain. Soon after she left the Nomad, Maeve found out she was pregnant."
Shock made Sinbad stare dumbly at her. He swallowed several times and finally squeaked out, "Pregnant? Maeve?" He sat for a minute in stunned silence. "She’s going to have a baby?"
Bryn hesitated. "No."
"But you said—"
She shook her head. "That’s what she’s in there crying about. She…Rumina found out about the baby." Bryn’s voice had grown soft and dead. "She got kind of jealous, and she cast a horrible spell. It…killed the baby."
"My baby…" Sinbad whispered. Bryn nodded solemnly. Sinbad closed his eyes against sudden and immediate pain. Maeve had been carrying his child, his first child, a child conceived in the greatest love he’d ever known. He’d learned of the child’s existence and death in the same instant; hope and inexplicable joy flared up in his heart and immediately shattered with the knowledge of his baby’s death. A deep, searing pain enveloped him, then, leaving him almost numb to everything else.
"Maeve wanted this baby so badly," Bryn said quietly, as if trying to fill the silence with something other than Sinbad’s shocked expression. "I was in contact with her during the pregnancy. She was so careful, so very careful, not to do anything that would harm the growing child. I’ve never seen her so open, so full of love and hope."
"And then it was taken from her," Sinbad said stonily. He raised his eyes to hers, a deep smoldering anger burning in them. "I’ll watch Rumina die for this!"
Bryn reached out as if to touch his shoulder gently, but then let her hand drop to her side again. "Be careful, Sinbad, she is a powerful foe to cross. Besides," she motioned to Maeve’s closed door, "Maeve needs you now." She pushed him gently towards the cabin. "Go. Be with her. That’s why I brought her here, to heal. She needs to be with you, Sinbad, and you need to be with her. Go."
Sinbad rose and went into the cabin, his knees like jelly but his steps never faltering. A single dim lantern lit the room, casting softly golden light over everything. He crossed to her bed, sitting down beside Maeve’s sleeping form. Her face was stained with tears, twinkling little streaks that ran softly down her pale cheeks. The way she lay there twisted something inside his stomach. Maeve lay on her side, her knees tucked up almost to her chest and her arms curled protectively around her stomach. Sinbad reached out gently, hesitantly, and touched her face tenderly. He tried again to brush her tears away, but again, new ones replaced them.
"Maeve…" he whispered softly. She stirred slightly and her eyelashes fluttered, sending more tears down her face. He stretched out beside her and pulled her prone form into his arms. Still asleep, she unconsciously curled against him, surprising Sinbad. He kissed the top of her head and tightened his grip, vowing he would not sleep that night lest Maeve woke.
He didn’t know how much time passed, but it was close to dawn when he felt Maeve stir. She took a deep, shaky breath and spoke, her voice soft and slightly trembling. "Bryn told you," she accused.
Sinbad nuzzled her hair gently. "She did," he said, "but I would be here whether I knew what was wrong or not."
"I’m sorry, Sinbad, I’m so sorry! It’s all my fault, I should have been more careful! My baby…our baby…" Her body trembled again, violently, and tears fell freely from her eyes. "I wanted…I want…my baby! But it’s gone…it’s gone…" she sobbed.
Sinbad sat up and pulled her into his arms, holding onto her wracking body tightly. "Maeve!" he said, "It’s not your fault, no part of this is in any way your fault!" His anger grew as he saw his beautiful, self-assured sorceress reduced to a trembling, sobbing child by her grief. "Rumina is the cause of our baby’s death, not you! You did everything you could, Bryn said so and I know you would have because I know you!" His voice gentled and he caressed her cheek gently as her head rested against his shoulder. "You would have made a wonderful mother, Maeve. This is not your fault."
She curled closer to him, as if she were trying to shed her skin and become part of Sinbad. Maeve drew in another shaky breath, her tears wetting the collar of his shirt, and continued to cry. "I want my baby," she whispered into his shoulder. "I just want my baby." She curled as close to Sinbad as possible, those horrible, bone-wrenching sobs starting again.
Sinbad lay back down and pulled her with him, feeling relieved when she nestled close to him, one arm wrapping around his chest, one leg slipping between his, her head resting comfortably in the hollow between his shoulder and neck. "Cry it out, Maeve," he soothed, rubbing the small of her back gently. "Cry it all out, my sorceress. Things will look better in the morning." He held her close, trying to give her what comfort he could, knowing it was impossible to give her what she wanted. For what Rumina had taken from her could never be replaced, no matter how much they wanted it to be. The child was gone.
Slowly, even though he fought it, Sinbad found himself drifting off to sleep after Maeve’s sobs finally stopped and her breathing eased and deepened into the rhythm of her sleep. He slept for a few hours, though his dreams were troubled and the pain of his child’s passing always invaded his dreams and turned them into nightmares.
Maeve wasn’t there when he woke up.
Frantically, Sinbad searched the ship from top to bottom, searching for any sign of his sorceress. The crew looked at him with sorrow, for they all knew by now what had transpired in the night. Bryn’s dark eyes watched him the most, for she knew why Maeve wasn’t there.
Exhausted and close to despair, Sinbad returned to his own cabin. He sat on the cold bed, the sheets and blankets tumbled around haphazardly as he had left them when awakened the night before. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration, then hit the mattress. A heavy thud! answered him, that of a small, heavy object hitting the wooden floor.
Ducking under the bed, Sinbad picked up a delicate crystal in the shape of a dragon. It was slightly heavy, and big enough to cradle in his palm. A note was attached to the base of the trinket, and Sinbad eagerly tore it away from the crystal. Maeve’s spidery, spiral handwriting assaulted his eyes.
My heart, it read, I cannot tell you how much it hurts me to go. But go I must. My vengeance against Rumina is doubled now, and I cannot waste time here. I must defeat the sorceress, for she continues to torment me and tear the fragile existence I call life apart. My love, I have nothing left except you, and she’s tried to take that away countless times as well.
Please understand, Sinbad, why I must leave. The gods know I do not want to, but I must. I cannot allow her to watch me whither away to nothing, which is what I am doing. I cannot rest until she is dead. She’s hurt me enough. I can’t stand any more, Sinbad, I can’t. I’ve endured her for years, but it’s just too much now. I have my own cross to bear, I don’t need her hunting me down while I try to bear it.
Oh, my heart, I don’t want to leave you! You make me feel safe, loved…whole. I didn’t know what that felt like until I met you. I will never have that feeling again. I want you to know that you are my only love, and will remain so until the day I die, whenever that may be. You showed me there were kind people in the world, and I needn’t fear everyone. You showed me what it is to love, and I will never forget that, ever.
Sinbad, take care of Dermott for me. I can see he is happy with Bryn, which eases my burdens slightly. He is no ordinary hawk, though I know you already know this. You just don’t know the full extent…yet. Take care of him. He really is quite fond of you, even though it may not seem so. Guardian hawks can be tricky creatures, but he will guard you to the death.
I must go now, my love. Perhaps, if Rumina’s death does not cost me my life, I shall return someday. I just don’t know. I am so tired…of everything. I want to sink into blessed sleep and never wake again, but the peace of death is not yet mine. I’ve too much left to do. Unfinished business and all that jazz. I figure it’s easier to kill the sorceress while alive and not a ghost.
I am yours, Sinbad, forever and a day. Maeve."