Текст книги "Stars of Fortune"

Автор книги: Nora Roberts

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Текущая страница: 16 (всего у книги 19 страниц)

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

She swam through cool blue water, strong and sure. It called to her, like a song, and she wanted only to answer. Even when her lungs burned and begged for air—just one gulp of air—she swam on.

She saw the change of light, a kind of beckoning, and risked all to dive still deeper. Even when her arms weakened, her kicks faltered, she never thought of the surface. Only the light. Only the song.

Close, so close. Tears burned behind her eyes as her body betrayed her. She could see the mouth of the cave, but knew now she couldn’t reach it.

She wasn’t strong enough.

As the light began to blur, the song to dim, hands grabbed her.

She sucked in air that scored her throat, gagged on dream water filling her lungs. And stared into Bran’s dark eyes.

“Thank the gods.” He dragged her to him, rocked them both. “You stopped breathing.”

“I was drowning.”

“You’re here. Here with me.”

“There was a light, and I wanted to reach it. Had to. I was swimming for it, but I wasn’t strong enough. I was drowning.”

“A dream.” Not a prophecy. He wouldn’t permit it. “You’re stressed, that’s all. We dive tomorrow—” Today, he thought, as dawn crept close. “And you’re stressed.”

“I was alone. Not diving, not with a tank. And I wasn’t strong enough.”

“You won’t be alone. We’ll stay back today. I’ll stay with you here.”

“It’s not what we’re meant to do. You know that. The dream doesn’t make sense. I wouldn’t dive without a tank. And I wasn’t afraid, Bran. More . . . mesmerized. Until I realized I couldn’t do it.”

“Do what?”

“Get to the light. The cave. Stress,” she said with a nod. “Sometimes a dream’s a dream. I’m still the weak link—physically. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“Only to the marrow of my bones. Come, rest a little longer.”

“If I get up now, I can get coffee in before Doyle starts cracking the whip. I think it’d be worth it.”

“We’ll have coffee then.” In that moment, with his fear still circling the edges, she could have had anything in his power to give. “Sasha, if when we’re diving, anything reminds you of the dream, you need to let me know. You won’t be alone.”

“That’s a promise.”

*   *   *

She felt calm. The dream left her no residual upset or worries. In fact, it barely felt real. And after twenty minutes under the crack of Doyle’s whip, absolutely nothing was real except sweat and quivering muscles.

She managed six (-ish) push-ups—half-ass push-ups according to Doyle—and three-quarters of one pull-up.

By the time she stepped onto the boat, she felt she’d been running at top speed for half the day. She doubted anything could feel better at that moment than lowering her sore butt onto a padded bench, lifting her face to the sun, and letting the salty breeze flow over her. And all while the greens of Corfu gleamed against the blue.

Other boats swayed in their slips or sailed across the water—as they would soon do. She could see the colors of shops and restaurants, the movement of people already strolling. On the rails of narrow balconies on a small hotel, beach towels flapped.

The breeze carried a mix of voices and languages to her, the scent of sunscreen and lemons, strong Greek coffee, a tang of smoke.

And wasn’t that a wonder of its own, she mused, all that life, so different from what she’d known, bustling on around them? Families on holiday, shopkeepers opening their doors for the day’s business, couples sitting at tables at pavement cafes, enjoying the sights and sounds and scents just as she was as they lingered over breakfast.

None of them knew, she thought, there were dark hearts wanting power so greedily they would destroy all else.

The little girl in the pretty pink capris with a ribbon trailing from her curly ponytail, bouncing along between her parents, or the old man with the weathered face and peaked cap drawing deep on his cigarette while his coffee steamed in front of him. The impossibly handsome man swabbing the deck of a nearby boat, and flashing a grin at the trio of girls who sent him flirtatious looks as they passed by.

They didn’t know worlds hung in the balance. For them, it was only a beautiful spring morning on an island floating green on a blue sea.

“You’re far away.” Bran sat beside her.

“No, actually. I’m right here. Right here and right now, and it’s really wonderful. I’m going to come back,” she decided on the spot. “When there is only the right here and right now. I’m going to have coffee right over there, and browse those shops. I’m going to buy an insanely colorful scarf, and something utterly useless and beautiful, then drink kumquat wine in the middle of the day.” She angled her head, smiled. “Maybe you’ll come drink it with me.”

“I could be persuaded.”

Doyle eased the boat out of the marina, away from the bustle, the scents, all that life. Sasha grabbed her sketch pad to draw a quick perspective of the village from the water. She would remember the bright colors, the sun-bleached ones when she painted it. A dreamy watercolor, she decided, so that edge of a world seemed just slightly mystical and unreal.

She flipped the page over—another sketch of the cliffs, all those browns and greens, the textures—and the beach where people already staked their claim for the day.

Lost in the work, she barely noticed Bran get up to help Riley and Annika with the diving equipment, hardly heard over the motor, the wind, Doyle and Sawyer discussing the maps.

Content, half dreaming, she took off her shoes, stood to remove her shirt, shorts. She’d pulled her hair back in a tail for the dive, and now set her hat on her clothes, all neatly folded on the bench.

Despite the bright sun, she set her sunglasses on the pile. The light was a white flash striking the water, deepening the blue to breathless. The foam of it in the boat’s wake, the lap and splash of it against the hull as it took them into a gentle curve toward land struck like music.

It pulled at her, at everything inside her. She stood on the bench, then on the rail. Then simply dived into the song.

Bran turned first, had a split second to see her disappear under the water. “Stop the boat!” He grabbed a life ring, heaved it back, shooting power with it so it dropped on the surface where Sasha had gone in. “She’s gone over. Sasha’s gone over,” he said as he kicked off his shoes. “She dreamed she drowned.”

“For Christ’s sake. Wait!” Riley grabbed his arm. “Get your tank. She might need the air. Doyle!”

“Already turning.”

Bran strapped on the tank, cursing the precious seconds it took, then rolled into the water.

“Get tanks, weigh anchor. We need to—”

“I can find her,” Annika interrupted Riley’s frantic orders. As Sasha had, she simply dived in.

“Holy shit.” Strapping his tank over his T-shirt, Sawyer kept the life ring in view. “Nerezza must’ve done something to them. Let’s move.”

He was in the water moments after Annika.

Doyle tossed Riley a face mask. “She’s got a sorcerer in love with her. He’ll get to her.”

Riley snapped on the sheath with her diving knife. “Let’s make damn sure of it.”

She swam through the cool blue water, consumed by the song. It played in her head, her heart, through her blood, more beautiful than any sound ever heard.

She saw the light up ahead, a lovely glow through the blue, pulsing, pulsing with the music.

She dived deeper, yearning for it. Deeper still even when her lungs ached.

She could all but feel the warmth of it, just beyond the reach of her fingertips, struggled to swim closer while her strokes faltered.

Not strong enough. Despair flooded her at her own weakness, at the frail human need for air when all she craved was nearly within her grasp.

It all blurred—light, pulse, song—as her body went limp. She began to sink in the blue, her hand stretched toward the beauty.

Hands grabbed her. Helpless, she breathed in water as she was propelled forward.

Blinding light, sudden warmth. Then nothing.

Annika dragged her up, broke the surface of the water. In the cave, that water seemed to sing as it flowed up and over rock. Light shimmered blue as moonbeams.

“She has no breath.” Weeping, Annika hugged Sasha to her as Bran shot up beside her. “Can you help her?”

“Yes, yes.”

He wouldn’t lose her. Boosting himself onto the wide lip of rock, he pulled Sasha up. He pressed a hand on her heart, pushed power there. And lowering to her, gave her his breath.

For an instant that lasted a lifetime, he knew true fear. He wouldn’t be enough. He would be too late.

Then her heart stirred under his hand.

She coughed up water. He turned her gently as the others surfaced, and kept his hand pressed to her heart when she gasped in air.

“There you are now. I’ll never tell you it’s just a dream again. There you are, a ghrá.”

He lifted her, cradled her, as she shook, laid his brow on hers, rocked them both.

“What happened?”

Riley climbed up, took a hard look at Sasha’s face. “You decided to go diving without a tank.”

“I . . . like the dream.” She groped for Bran’s hand. “I was on the boat, sketching, then . . . I heard the music. It was like dreaming again. I had to find the song, the light.”

“Nerezza.” Riley bit off the name.

“No, no. It wasn’t dark or cold. It wasn’t evil. It was beautiful.”

“Evil hides in beauty.” Doyle hauled himself up with them.

“No. I’d know. I can feel. It called for me. None of you heard it?”

“Something, when we got closer to the cave.” Riley looked up, around. “This cave that isn’t on any map.”

“And the light.” Bran stroked her cheek, wishing to will the color back into it. “It guided us to you.”

“You saved me,” she told him, but he shook his head.

“Annika. She got to you first, pulled you in here. She’s faster than any of us in the water.” He glanced back at her. “Understandably.”

“I couldn’t let the sea take her.”

Annika knuckled a tear away. Her sinuous, luminous tail curved through the water. “With legs I would have been too late.”

Sawyer, still treading water, his gaze still riveted on the sway of sapphire, emerald, hints of ruby, slowly reached out to touch the shimmery, translucent fin with a fingertip.

“You’re a mermaid. Well, kick my ass. That explains a lot.”

“I couldn’t tell you. I wasn’t supposed to.”

“Annika.” Sasha crawled to the edge where Annika rested her arms. “You saved 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.

“Nice,” 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.