The cursed towers 244
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enough to survive. Finding somewhere deep enough to immerse myself in and near as briny as the sea,
that is a luxury indeed."
Isabeau nodded to show her understanding, though a strange sense of unreality was creeping over her.
How could she be possibly sitting at ease in Meghan's tree-house with Maya the Ensorcellor, talking
openly about how difficult it was for a Fairge to survive above water? She scrutinized Maya's face
surreptitiously, noting the mother-of-pearl sheen of the skin, the narrow mouth and mobile nostrils, the flat
ears and constantly fluttering gills. The firelight glowed on the left side of her face, revealing the spider
web of fine, pale scars that marred the silken scales.
"How in Ea's name were ye ever able to conceal your real ancestry for so long?" she burst out.
"I had the Mirror o' Lela," Maya replied. "It was a very auld, very powerful artifact o' my father's family
and I had been trained in its use since I was a mere bairn. I spun the illusion twice a day, at dawn and
sunset, and never let it falter. Over the years it grew to be more than a mask, it was indeed like a second
skin that had grown over my own face.
"I was careful to wear high collars and long sleeves that hid my gills and fins too. Ye never knew when
someone would have the gift o' clear-seeing powerful enough to see through the glamourie, thick and
strong as it was. It amused me that it became the fashion to wear collars closed up at the throat and
sleeves that covered the hands."
She smiled a little in reminiscence, then said with a shrug, "Besides, people see what they expect to see,
and once the witches were gone, I did not need to be so careful. That was one reason why I had to
strike swiftly, do ye understand? I could not risk exposure. Anyone with witch senses was a danger to
me."
She held out her hands, looking at the deep webs that ran from knuckle to knuckle, and gave a rueful
smile. "I was startled indeed to see my face once the mirror was broken. I had near forgotten what I
really looked like, or that I was no longer a young woman in the first flush o' my beauty."
She sighed. "Indeed, young Lachlan did no' ken what he did when he broke the mirror. Much o' my
powers came from it and I was near helpless without it."
Isabeau could not help feeling sorry for her. The Fairge looked so thin and pale, and there was true
sadness thrilling through her deep, expressive voice. Maya looked up at her pleadingly. "All I want is to
find my daughter and somewhere we'll both be safe. Ye do no' understand what it is to be a hunted
creature, hated and feared by all, with our lives forfeit if we are discovered."
Isabeau's heart hardened. "Yes, I do," she said harshly and spread out her own hands for Maya to see. "I
lost these fingers in the torture chambers o' your Grand-Questioner and would've lost my life too, if your
Grand-Seeker had had her blaygird way! I was hunted all through the highlands and nearly died several
times from fever and exhaustion."
"Then ye do understand," Maya said unexpectedly, leaning forward and fixing her silvery-blue eyes on
Isa-beau's face. "Happen I deserve to be hated and hunted, though indeed I had no choice in what I did,
but no' my wee Bronwen! She is naught but a babe and innocent. Ye ken they will kill her if they know
she is born o' the sea people."
Isabeau looked away, troubled. Was that not why she had taken Bronwen in the first place, because she
feared for her safety? She sidestepped the issue, saying rather harshly, "What do ye mean ye had no
choice? There is always a choice."
