Stars of Fortune, Page 26

  my life.”

  “I can see a long way in the water. Like you can see on land. So I could find you, but with legs I would be slower. And still, you had no breath when I brought you up. Bran gave you his.”

  “You did this for me.” She laid her hand over Annika’s. “Does it mean you . . . you have to stay in the water now?”

  “No. I can have the legs for the land for three turns of the moon. Three months,” she corrected. “I swore not to tell humans, even those who would seek the stars with me. But life is sacred, even more than an oath.”

  “Anybody gives you grief, they have to go through us,” Sawyer told her. He brushed a tear off her cheek. “You’re a hero.”

  “You’re not mad with me?”

  “Are you kidding? You saved a life, and you gave up something important to you to do it. It was your secret. How does this . . .” He ran that same finger down the side of her torso over the hip of the tail. “Sorry,” he said quickly, and pulled his hand back.

  “I don’t mind. I’m happy. Sasha is alive, and no one is angry.”

  “Now that we’ve established that,” Doyle began, “maybe we should find out just why Sasha nearly drowned to get where we are.”

  “Hard-Ass has a point,” Riley agreed. “It’s a hell of a place.” She pushed to her feet. “Deep inside the cliff, from my sense of direction. But accessible enough, with equipment,” she added with a pointed finger at Sasha, “that other divers should have found it. But it’s not on any of the dive maps.”

  “The simple answer?” Steadier again as Sasha’s color had come back, Bran pushed to his feet. “It isn’t meant for others. It drew Sasha through what she has. Drew us all.”

  “You think the star’s here?”

  He nodded at Riley. “I think if it’s not, a path to it is. But this fits Sasha’s prophecy. We’re bloody well between the earth and the sea, aren’t we?”

  “You got that.” Hands on hips, Riley scanned the cave. “Small pool, wide area. A lot of rock. The walls are almost smooth, and the ceiling . . .” She frowned as she looked up, studied. “It’s almost a perfect dome shape, and the stalactites, grouped together like that? I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  “Dome, a grouping like a chandelier. A holy place.”

  Sawyer finally pulled himself out of the pool to join them. “It shouldn’t have light like this, as deep as it is—and no sky to reflect it.” He glanced down at Annika. “Do you want to come up—sit on the edge?”

  Her tail swished along the water in a sparkling arc, then cleaved under. She pushed herself up. “Stand,” she said, and brushed water from her thigh. “I like the legs.”

  “Yeah, well, they’re winners.”

  “We’re going to need to have a discussion about all that,” Riley decided, “but since we’re here, we’ll focus. If it’s here, and buried, we’re going to need tools. I can get those, but we don’t want to hack at everything. Best thing is to spread out, look for anything that seems out of place. I’ll start on the other side of the pool.”

  “I don’t know what to look for.”

  “You got us this far,” Bran reminded Sasha.

  Something out of place, she thought. She didn’t know what was in place, as she didn’t spend a lot of time in strange underwater caves.

  But something had brought her here—brought all of them here.

  Why couldn’t she hear the music now, or feel that tug pulling her in the right direction? She searched with the others, running her hands over rocks, climbing over stepping ledges of them.

  As Riley said, the walls were smooth, almost the texture of glass. And warm, she noted, where surely they should have been cool to the touch. The air should be cool, she realized—even cold—considering they were beneath the surface of the sea.

  Where did the warmth and the light come from?

  She looked up at the bowl of the ceiling, the rich colors of the rock, the odd grouping of the stalactites, gleaming with wet.

  Even as she watched, a drop slid down the cone, fell to the rock-strewn floor of the cave.

  She heard the drop striking rock as distinctly as a plucked harp string. Then another. As she watched, drops ran down, shimmering with light—water striking water, water striking rock—with quick and pretty notes.

  A song.

  Not possible, of course. The speed of the liquid, the light of it, the sound—that music rising above everything. She walked closer, still looking up, held out a hand.

  A drop fell into her palm, warm, luminous—but not wet. It held in the cup of her hand, a perfect circle, clear as glass, with its song striking her heart.

  Still holding the tiny globe, she knelt on the floor of the cave.

  She heard someone say her name, shook her head. Not now, not now. Couldn’t they see she held love, trust, hope, right in the palm of her hand? So much of it, in a single drop, and for all the worlds.

  She laid it, like an offering, on the small altar of stone.

  It rose up from it, the flame and the fire. Brilliant and beautiful, red and pure as heart blood. Thousands by thousands of facets flashed with that fire, freed now from the stone, the fiercely shining star.

  “The Fire Star, for the new queen. Here flames passion and the fire of truth.” She picked it up, held that wildly burning light in her cupped hands. “Here is power and strength and fiery justice to light the heavens of all the worlds in the name of Aegle, the radiant.”

  She held it up and out, and the tears flooding her eyes were of pure joy.

  “It is found. It is freed. And all we are must hold it safe until we return it with its sisters to Oileán na Gloine, so they will shine for all, forever, over all worlds.”

  She looked down at the star, sighed. And when she looked up, her eyes were clear of visions. “I’m not dreaming.”

  “No, fáidh.” Bran, who’d come to stand with her, laid his hands on her shoulders. “You found it.”

  “It’s real. Take it. We need to protect it from her. She’ll come for it.”

  “I don’t think she can come here.” Riley moved closer, touched her fingertips to the flame. “Not to this place. It’s all light and heat,” she noted. “There’s no solidity. But . . . I swear I can feel it hum. Does it have weight?”

  “No, but I can feel it. I can’t explain. Here.”

  Riley took it from Sasha’s hand. “Mass without weight,” she added. “Active flame that doesn’t burn. I can’t physically feel the shape of it, but I can sense it.”

  “We can save the scientific analysis for later, Doc.” Doyle kept one eye on the pool, one hand on his diving knife. “If she comes at us here, we’ve got nothing but a couple of knives, magic bracelets, and whatever Bran can pull out of his hat. We not only need to get this to the surface, but stowed away where she can’t get at it.”

  “And when we get it to the surface?” Sawyer gestured to Riley, took his turn holding the Fire Star. “What then? Do you see what kind of light it’s pumping out? People on the mainland are going to see it, so just how do we keep it on the down low?”

  “I can shield it,” Bran said. “Hopefully. And Doyle’s right, we’re not well fortified here, if she can get through to us. We need to get the star back to the villa, as quickly as we can.”

  “Then you’d better take it.” Sawyer offered it to Bran. “You’re the most fortified wherever we are. Sasha, you should stick with him. Use my tank to get back to the boat. I can make it that far—”

  “No, I can’t take your oxygen.”

  “I’ve got the compass if I need it, but I’m a strong swimmer.”

  “I can get Sawyer back to the boat, very fast.”

  “A mermaid ride? That’s e-ticket.” He grinned at Annika. “No way I’m turning that down.”

  “That works best.” Bran cupped his free hand over the star. “To protect, to respect, to shield, to hold.” He circled his hand around the star, forming a globe. Inside, the star shimmered, but quietly now.

  “Ni
ce,” Riley told him.

  “I’m happy you think so. I’ve worked on that for quite some time. And since it’s the first I’ve used it on the actual star, I can’t say for certain how long it might hold. We should go.”

  “Suit up.” Sawyer picked up his tanks. “Don’t give me that look,” he said to Sasha. “I’ve got transportation if I need it with Aqua Girl here. You and Bran get the star back to the boat. We’ve got your back.”

  “I’ll take point with Riley.” Doyle hooked on his own tanks. “Annika and Sawyer on their six. As soon as everyone’s on board, we head back.” He looked at Bran. “For Christ’s sake, don’t drop that thing.”

  He jumped into the pool, and when Riley followed suit, did a surface dive and was gone.

  Bran gave Sasha’s hand a squeeze. “Ready?”

  “We have to be.”

  “I’m with you.” Holding the shielded star close to his side, he went in the water with her.

  Sasha swam away from the light, but looked back toward it twice until she saw Sawyer, then Annika, iridescent tail flashing, coming behind them.

  She pushed herself, quickening her strokes so Bran wouldn’t have to slow his own to keep pace with her.

  Away from the cave and the light she got a better sense of just how far and deep she’d traveled. Fresh concern for Sawyer had her turning to look back.

  Something flashed toward her, sharp teeth gleaming like silver, eyes glowing virulent yellow. Defenseless, she could do nothing but try to evade. Bran swept a hand through the water. She felt the power of the current even as what came at them—and what came with him—spun away.

  When Bran gestured for her to go up, to surface, she shook her head. She saw both Riley and Doyle slashing at oncoming beasts with their diving knives. She wouldn’t desert friends.

  She prepared to fight, bare-handed, saw Sawyer slam his knife into the belly of what looked like a small shark with a massive maw. Annika’s tail slashed out, swept a line of them away with a force that turned them to oily black smudges on the water.

  Something hit her like a battering ram in the back, sent her tumbling helplessly in the water. Three circled her, maws wide, teeth gleaming. She punched out, kicked out, adrenaline screaming through her as her fist seemed to sink into the spongy ooze of their bodies.

  Lightning struck; their bodies exploded.

  Annika streaked by, tail slashing attackers, as she pulled Sawyer with her.

  Bran wrapped one arm around Sasha, and rode the lightning to the surface. He all but shoved her up the ladder onto the boat where Sawyer leaned over the rail coughing up water.

  “Annika,” he managed. “She went back. Riley. Doyle.”

  Before Sasha understood, Bran pushed the star into her hand, and plunged back into the water.

  “No!”

  “Stop.” Though he staggered a bit, Sawyer grabbed her arm before she could go over the side. “Take the star into the wheelhouse. Keep under cover as much as you can. I need a fucking tank.”

  He unhooked hers, would have put it on, but Riley surfaced, gripped the ladder. Setting the tank aside, Sawyer leaned over to help pull her up.

  “How bad?” he demanded.

  “Bran blasted some of them. If he hadn’t—” As Sawyer had for her, she reached down, grasped Doyle’s arm.

  “Bran. Annika.” Clutching the star, Sasha ran to the side of the boat.

  “Right behind me. Find something to hold on to,” Doyle warned them. “We’re getting out of here fast.”

  Lightning snapped out of the water, and Bran with it. Even as he pulled himself up, Annika flew up, the powerful sweep of her tail shooting off light. In midair, she flipped to the boat, landed on her hands, then just tumbled to the deck.

  “She’s bleeding.” Sawyer dropped to his knees beside her.

  “Who isn’t?” Riley demanded, but she lowered as well. “How bad is it?” she asked Annika.

  “Not very bad. Not like before. But . . .” Her eyes widened, and she pointed toward the sky. “Look!”

  More came, like a swarm of wasps.

  Doyle started the engines, pushed them for top speed. As they bulleted over the water, Sawyer shook his head. “Not going to be fast enough.”

  “Go, up front with Doyle.” Bran pushed Sasha forward.

  “We’re not going to outrun them in this.” Accepting, Riley gripped her knife.

  “Yeah, we can. Maybe,” Sawyer added as he pulled out the compass. “Stay down,” he told Annika, braced himself against her. “Everybody hold the hell on.”

  Sasha turned into Bran, holding the star between them. Held tight as Sawyer reeled off a series of numbers.

  It was like being pushed through space, so fast it stole the breath. Her legs buckled; her head spun as the world whirled around her.

  Then she was falling, as if from a great height, to land with a rattling thump that would have knocked her down if Bran hadn’t held her.

  “Son of a bitch, it worked!” Sawyer gave the compass a loud kiss. “Son of a bitch!”

  “We’re back at the villa.” Riley cradled a wounded arm. “And we’re still in the freaking boat.”

  They stood, all six, on the deck of the boat. And the boat moored on the lawn between villa and seawall. Apollo ran circles around it, barking joyfully.

  “I’ve never shifted that many people.” Sawyer shrugged. “I figured we’d just try for the whole deal. We’ll worry about it later.”

  “We’re still in the freaking boat,” Riley repeated.

  “And it won’t take her long to send them after us again,” Doyle pointed out. “We need to get the star inside, and get ready for a fight.”

  “Please take it.” Sasha held the star out to Bran. “It’s safest with you. We need to dress the wounds. I remember what to get.”

  “Longitude and latitude, right?” Riley hoisted herself off the boat. “The numbers you said before you took us on the ride.”

  “Yeah. Always have the coordinates of home base right here.” Sawyer tapped his temple.

  “The whole freaking boat,” she said again and, clutching her bleeding arm, started for the villa.

  Doyle jumped off the side, looked at Bran. “You’re sure about your plan for the star?”

  “As sure as I can be. I’ll need some time for it. And need some time to call a storm. One that will knock her back, give us a clear path to go. Wherever we need to go.”

  “When you’re ready, we’ll hold them off for you.”

  “Us,” Sasha corrected. “I’ll be with him. I saw it,” she said before Bran could argue. “I painted it. I lived it.”

  She turned toward the terrace steps. “It’s not negotiable.”

  Rather than argue, he took the star inside. He’d do what he needed to do when the time came to do it.

  Alone.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Sasha wondered if tending wounds would ever become routine. Would she become so used to blood and gouged flesh that the sight, the smell, the feel of it would no longer cause her stomach to tighten, her pulse to quicken?

  She knew what to do—some was simply instinct, but Bran was a good teacher. She cleaned the gash on Riley’s arm first, judged under normal circumstances the wound would require at least a dozen stitches. Calmly she coated the gash with Bran’s salve while Bran worked on Sawyer, and Doyle kept watch, sword at the ready now, at the doorway.

  “She won’t send them yet, or come.” As she spoke, Sasha added drops to a glass of water, handed it to Riley. “Drink it all.”

  “Coming at us when we’re bleeding gives her an advantage.”

  “Expecting her to come at us when we’re bleeding negates the advantage. And we confused her,” Sasha added. “Or Sawyer did. We vanished, boat and all. She has to think about that. And she’s very angry. We have the star. Our finding it was one thing, but she wasn’t able to snatch it right out of our hands as she thought she would.”

  She began to tend to Riley’s other wounds—all minor when compa
red to the gash—and realized everyone had stopped to look at her.

  “How do you know?” Doyle demanded.

  “I don’t know, but I do. I can feel her rage. And . . . she hasn’t been able, yet, to break through the shield Bran put around the house. I think she will, but not when she’s blind with anger. We have a little time.”

  “You’ve connected with her. You’ve opened enough to make that connection. Be careful, fáidh,” Bran warned. “As she may feel, as you do, and do the same with you.”

  “There’s only hate and anger and this terrible need. She’s mad with it.”

  “Madness can still be canny,” Bran reminded her.

  “She’ll come harder now.” Sawyer winced as Bran tended the gouges that scored his side. “Once she regroups. We have something she wants. She was just playing around before, giving us grief. She wanted us to find the star, because she couldn’t.”

  “I’d say that’s a bull’s-eye.” Riley rose, rolled the shoulder of her injured arm, flexed her biceps. “Good job. I barely feel it.”

  “We could go somewhere else.” Annika turned so Sasha could clean the wounds on her back. Mostly nicks and scratches—Bran’s bracelets worked well. “Sawyer could take us somewhere else, away.”

  “I think I could. I have to admit, six people and a boat’s a first for me, but I think I could do it.”

  “When the time comes I believe I can give you and your compass a boost. But . . .” Bran looked at Doyle, got a nod. “We know the ground here, and for the moment are safe. We need some time to regroup, just as she does.”

  “And the star comes first,” Riley concluded. “But if we’ve got time, I want a damn beer and some food.”

  She walked to the fridge, pulled out leftovers, cheese, olives. “An army runs on its stomach, right?”

  “Food’s energy.” Sawyer managed a weak smile. “I don’t have much left after puking up a couple gallons of seawater, then hauling your asses and the boat.”

  “I’ll make you food.” Annika took Sawyer’s hand, rubbed it against her cheek. “I didn’t get you back fast enough.”

  “Anni, without you, I wouldn’t’ve gotten back at all.”

  “I’ve got this.” Riley pulled bread out of a cupboard, then chips. “What I’d like is a little more detail on how a mermaid’s walking around.”

  “I couldn’t tell you before.”

  “I’m the last one who’d poke you on that one. But how’s it work?”

  “We have magicians, too.” She smiled at Bran. “And we also look for the stars, to protect them, to one day take them back to the sky. For some, this is their purpose. So it is for my family. And in every . . . I don’t know the word. But one is chosen, and trained.”

  “‘Unto every generation a Slayer is born’?”

  “I do not kill.”

  Now Sawyer smiled more easily. “It’s a quote. How are you chosen?”

  “The Light chooses. A ceremony when we are of age. The Light is taken from its chest by the sorcerer, and it will shine on the one chosen. Then there is the choice. We force no one, so it’s a choice. I chose to accept. It’s sung that the one who seeks joins with five more who walk on the land, so the one who seeks is given the legs, and may walk on the land. But this gift must be held secret. Revealing is only allowed to protect the star, or to save a life. Once revealed, the seeker has only three turns of the moon to continue, and another must take her place.”

  “What if you—we—find the stars?” Sasha asked.