Raging Sea by Terri Brisbin Page A

your crew.” Hugh walked to the side of the ship and prepared to climb down into the smaller boat. “Come, Ragnarson. Show me these ruins.”
    Although there was a hint of power in whatever lay beneath the thick peat layer, it was not the circle he sought. It took little time once they arrived there to determine that, so within an hour or so, they rowed back out to the ship. Only a few yards from the ship, the water began to swirl around them.
    Hugh’s blood heated and he laughed aloud. The waterblood was here! She. Her blood had risen! It had begun. Though he could not see her in the sea, he could feel her presence as she must feel his.
    â€œWaterblood!” he called out. “Come, join me in this wondrous quest.” Though the water moved around the boat, no one answered him. Probably too untrained to know how yet. “I can teach you how to use your powers, Waterblood.” Silence. “You know me now, Daughter of the Sea. I carry the fire within my blood even as you carry the water. Find me when you wish an answer to your questions.”
    The sensation of another who carried a god’s or goddess’s blood moved away, deeper and farther, to the south, before disappearing completely. But that mattered not, for he’d learned several things.
    The island he searched for, the stones he needed to find, were on an island to the south of this one.
    The waterblood was a woman.
    The waterblood was somehow connected to Svein Ragnarson.
    His good mood was restored, for the battle was met and the players would now begin to take the field. Once he found the stormblood, who he knew was a man, he would persuade them to his side to open the portal and release their Goddess.
    His laughter echoed across the water and chilled the heart of every man who heard it.
    Within the sea
    If it was possible, Ran shuddered. Carried swiftly south by the sea, she could not believe what had happened.
    That man could see her! Or at the least, he knew she was there watching. He called her the same thing that the sea did and spoke to her about the power he carried. The orange aura surrounding him glowed fierce and bright, much more than Soren’s did. Her blood wanted to answer his call, but she saw only her father in his grasp and felt his terror.
    It took much to alarm Svein Ragnarson. Little frightened him. He faced down the earl or a torrential storm at sea with the same amount of comfort. But just now, abject terror filled him.
    They crossed the miles swiftly, back to the Mainland. Distraught and confused, she did not wish to return home. She needed help to free her father. Her brother was not here. There was no one she could call on for help.
    Soren.
    Dare she ask him for help? Would he help her father?
    She knew he was keeping something from her and needed to find out what he knew. If he bore the mark. If he carried some power within him. If he could help her to rescue her father from this dangerous, powerful man who held him prisoner.
    And who murdered without compunction. For she had been there watching at a distance when that man had ordered young Eigil’s death. The sea had taken his body gently to the bottom, where she’d held him in a warm embrace until life left him.
    Soren. Where would he be?
    The currents changed direction and, in little time, the sea brought her to the broch. Placing her on the sandy beach near the tower, the water moved away but waited on her wishes, whispering her name. Standing, she shook out her gown and asked all the water to leave it now. Within a few moments, the water had trickled back into the sea.
    He must be here, if the sea brought her here. She ran across the beach and up the path to the broch, pushing open the door and shouting his name. Her voice echoed in the empty chamber. Was he above?
    Had he seen her come from the sea? It mattered not. Whether he was only a man or something more mattered not. She needed his help. Climbing the stairs, she found the first