Flood and Fire Page 8

  I kept a steady pace all night. Dawn hit the water and the sun shone off the waves in hues of lavender and pink as I rounded the cape of Ireland. The energizing warmth of the sun fell across my face.

  I pulled the oar from the water and held it across my lap. Momentum propelled the boat across the ocean for another few miles before it slowed and then glided to a stop, rocking with the waves. I scanned the wide Atlantic as the security of the coastline disappeared, the calm from the night before disappeared at the sight of the vast ocean before me.

  To the south was Alamar. To the east was Azrael and the battle my people fought. I hadn’t been in this close of proximity to him in almost fifty years. From what I read of Eva’s last letter, I might not ever see him again.

  As I gazed out over my homeland the gloomy northern skies blocked out all sunlight the Watchers needed. If only I had gotten my mission sooner. I gripped the oars. It was unfair that hundreds of others must laid down their lives while I searched for just one lost Watcher.

  The King of Neviah had sent me to this planet to defend the humans against the Dark Rebellion. Wasn’t this a higher mission than finding just one Watcher? Alamar had already discovered his powers, and if he stayed to the seas, he would be safe from the Rebellion. I justified abandoning my mission in order to save Azrael, Eva, and my other Watcher friends. I dipped the oars into the water once more, but this time in the direction of the war.

  I had learned to trust my heart, and right now my heart was on the Celtic Islands about to be slaughtered. Considering how fast I could row, I could be on the island and have found Azrael by afternoon. I could convince him not to fight. I could rescue him from war, take him with me, and then Azrael and I would find Alamar together.

  I paddled with all the strength of an Immortal warrior toward the Celtic Islands. Despite the ominous storm clouds, the determination to embrace Azrael filled my heart and made the sky seem brighter. I wouldn’t let a little rain keep me from seeing the man I loved. Gritting my teeth, I struggled onward, even as the waves that surrounded me grew from gentle rolling slopes to mountains crashing around me.

  Guilt, and no small amount of fear, crept up from the pit of my stomach and lodged in my throat. I shook my head and swallowed hard. I was doing the right thing. There would be time to find the lost Watcher after I saved Azrael and countless other Watchers, including Eva.

  I knew at any moment, the tip of the Britannia isles would come into view. I thrust the oar into the ocean and fought against the waves that pushed me back. Icy rain dropped in sheets as the waves hurled themselves at my boat from all sides. Lightning flashed overhead and threw the surface of the sea into ominous shadows around me. I lowered my body closer to the boat to avoid the wind as much as possible and continued without breaking speed. I had to save Azrael. Wood creaked, waves smashed, and lightning screamed across the sky in a shrill chorus. The sound plagued my mind with haunting images of the demons of my past: Hazella, Erebus, and the Shadow Wolves.

  The waves steadily grew in size and strength, forcing me to slow and focus on keeping the boat balanced. They rose around me and charged forward in a massive wave that towered above the boat. I thrust my oar into the ocean and paddled to meet the colossal wall of water head on. I had to get over the crest of the wave before it collapsed onto the boat. I shoved aside the dark images of drowning underneath these waves. I wouldn’t let my fear of water stop me from saving Azrael. I would conquer my fear, just like Zacaris had told me to.

  The ebony sea curled like a massive claw and the wave came down on me like a war hammer. As soon as I could see the sky again, I gulped for air.

  Frantically I surveyed the landscape before me, trying to regain my bearings. The unnatural storm spread as far as I could see and there was still no sign of the Celtic Isles. I had no idea which direction the wave had tossed the battered boat. I paddled forward, praying I was close.

  Two more waves rose and surrounded the tiny boat in a canyon of water that rushed toward me. The gap closed quickly with no way to escape.

  I bent low and clung to the boat. The colossal walls of obsidian water broke over me. The world went black and bitterly cold. The wood below me shattered as the water smashed the boat into pieces.

  The water pummeled me. I lost my grip on the oar. I fought my way to the surface of the raging sea with fear pounding through me as fiercely as the storm that surrounded me. I broke through the surface and took in a gasp of air. Then I clamped my mouth shut. If I started to gulp in water, there would be no chance of staying afloat.

  Another wave struck. Pouring rain and heaving seawater barreled over me from above and below. I clawed at the water, struggling to stay afloat, searching for any sight of land. The constant movement of the sea and the swirling darkness of the storm disoriented me. I didn’t know which way to swim.

  Gulping a breath of air too full of seawater and rain, I dove beneath the surface. Perhaps I would expend less energy under the waves, rather than fighting against them. It was strange not to have my lungs burn for air at the length of time I resisted the habit of breathing. But without air in my lungs to keep me buoyant, I sank deeper into the ocean. Panicking, I scrambled to the surface.

  My head broke above the waves and I sucked clean air into my lungs. Swimming in the cold ocean burned stored energy like dry tinder. Lightning struck the surface of the water several leagues away and the roar of thunder echoed in my ears. Clouds blanketed the sky in a thick tempest. There would be no sunlight until the storm passed. I had to save what energy I had left.

  I scanned the choppy waves, looking for anything that would keep me afloat. A wave came from behind and crashed over my head. I somersaulted forward before another wave punched me from the front, propelling me another direction. Disoriented and frantic, I swallowed seawater. The water weighed me down as I sank into the dark world. I kicked my feet, propelling myself through the water before I sank too far.

  The fringe of the Celtic Shelf came into view. I gathered the last of my energy to swim toward it. My body stiffened with fatigue, and I sank deeper into the cold ocean. I struggled against the heavy water, trying to reach the surface. My limbs felt like sacks of useless rocks. Terror, deeper than the water, suffocated me.

  My fatigued body dropped swiftly. I had no strength left to fight against it. I hit the sea shelf and slid down the steep slope. I struggled to move, but couldn’t find the energy to claw at the underwater mountain as I slipped into the trench.

  The darkness thickened. The pressure of the sea weighed down on me. Every moment I sank farther from the surface. My frozen body hit the bottom of the black world of the deep sea and settled against the stone. I had no strength to save myself. No one would ever find me at the bottom of the cold, dark Atlantic Ocean.

  Chapter Ten

  Mermaids

  I had gotten myself into a scene from my worst nightmares. As an Immortal there were things I considered worse than death, such as an eternity buried alive in a dark watery grave. Hell was a world where your eyes, though open, could only see blackness. Hell was the cold bearing down on your skin, but never being able to reach out and fight against it. Hell was being helpless and no one hearing me scream. Blackness surrounded me like icy misery. Regret haunted the dark, lonely hours in a world where time passed, but could not be measured by the sun or moon.

  All celestial warmth in my body died until even my core became as cold as the world around me. Panic eventually faded and depression set in. Weeks or even years could have passed, but I had no way of knowing. The darkness of the ocean never changed. No light penetrated the complete blackness around me. I didn’t have the strength to cry, but sobs throbbed inside my chest like captive spirits.

  Throughout my life, no matter how dire the situation, I had found a way to not only survive but thrive. I was frozen inside my sun deprived body with no way to escape. Not even death could save me. Millenniums would pass away before the seas dried up and I could feel the warmth of the sun once more and break fre
e.. What would the world be like then? Would the war with Erebus be over? Would all the Watchers have left this planet and the human race vanished? Would the druids have given up looking for me? Azrael might have moved on with his life and found someone new, someone who said yes when he asked to court her formally.

  If only I had listened to Zacaris and gone to find Alamar instead of trying to go to Azrael. If only I hadn’t sailed into the storm. If only I’d never become Immortal, then I wouldn’t have to suffer an eternity surrounded in darkness.

  I silently promised to never question the high druids’ judgment again, if only they would save me. I would fulfill my mission and find the lost Watcher … if I hadn’t already failed.

  I passed the time by letting memories of Azrael replay in my mind, and I fell in love with him again. The mischief in his face when he had teased about “kissing” me the first time I had nearly drowned. How he had carried me to the river when I lost my shoes. The comfort of his arms, the security of my head against his chest. How he let his hands linger over mine any chance he could. His memory was a light in a world of blackness.

  My fresh water tears mingled with the salty sea. Not even Azrael would be able to find me down here. The only one who could help me now would be the great King of Neviah. He knew all Neviahan Watchers better than Eva knew all her children and grandchildren.

  The king knew where I was. He knew my heart and my selfish sin of going to Azrael instead of completing my mission. I admitted to myself I wouldn’t have completed my mission once I was reunited with Azrael. Maybe this was my punishment for disobedience. In my mind I pleaded with my king anyway. I waited in the darkness, hoping to hear the king’s voice. Would he save me or would he banish me from the kingdom forever for my disobedience? I prayed, repented, and vowed in the silent, black prison.

  A speck of light appeared in front of me and glided toward me. Had the king heard my plea or was I hallucinating a vision of the sun?

  The small, glowing orb was joined by another as they approached with cautious and curious movements. The light illuminated the dark world of undisturbed sea floor and the plankton floating around me like under water snow. Two figures swam near and their light shimmered off radiant, crystal-like, blue scales.

  Their alien eyes glinted black against their albino skin. The creatures reminded me of mermaids, but the top half of their naked bodies were less human. Sharp barbs protruded menacingly from their elbows and wide gills flared from their necks. A single antenna hung from their heads with a lit orb on the end. I could see right through their transparent skin to their skeletal structure. Behind their thin rib cages, hearts pumped blood into the blue veins lining their translucent bodies.

  Please help me, please help me! I screamed in my mind.

  They pointed toward the surface with their webbed hands. Long black claws tipped each finger like hooks. Words came from their lips in a tone low and sweet like the singing of a whale. I didn’t understand their language. The mermaids each gripped one of my stiff arms. Would they rescue me or had they only come to see if I was something that could be eaten?

  The water around me turned from black to navy then from navy to a brilliant blue.

  “Thank you,” I finally found the strength to whisper as they neared the surface. The water was warmer, and the encouraging presence of the sun shimmered just above the waves.

  The deep-sea mermaids hesitated. Swimming this close to the surface must feel like being boiled alive to them. They pushed me toward the top of the ocean. I feebly gathered newfound strength and forced my aching muscles to propel my stiff body toward the light. My head capped above the waves, and I soaked in the bright light of the sun. I sputtered the water out of my lungs and breathed in the salty, sea air. As long as there were no storms, I could float to the nearest shoreline and restart my quest to find Alamar.

  “Thank you,” I said to the sky, knowing the king would hear me. Relief coursed through me as the energy from the sun restored my strength. I hoped centuries hadn’t passed away and I still had time to find Alamar. I turned my stiff neck and searched for any sign of land.

  In the distance something caught my eye. It wasn’t land, but the next best thing, and it was headed my way. I soaked in the sun, letting my body roll gently up and down with the waves as I gathered the energy to make a flame in my hand in order to signal the ship. I only had the strength for one shot, so I reserved it until the sailors couldn’t miss it.

  Fire sprang from my hands into the air. My body, immediately depreciated of all energy, slipped below the waves. I flailed my arms and fought my way back to the surface before gasping in another full breath of salty air. The ship sailed so close I could make out the grains and knots in the wood of its hull. My body seized, but I had to keep fighting. This was my only chance of escaping the ocean.

  A deep voice resounded in my ears. “Man over board!”

  Chapter Eleven

  Pirates

  I slowly opened my eyes, adjusting to the bright light of the sun. The rays of energy beamed through thick glass squares lined in rows and columns to make a window.

  My hand brushed across a dingy quilt. The sun continued to feed my body as I collected my wits. The musky sent of a man perfumed the black robe that covered the remains of my tattered, sea-savaged dress. It was then I realized, “I fell asleep!” I shot out of the bed, standing on wobbly legs. How could I let down my guard by sleeping? I had avoided sleeping as much as possible since it made me vulnerable and plagued me with nightmares.

  The room was shaped like a half circle with one end that tapered to a point. The heavy décor made the room abnormally dark. Black curtains, black bedding, and black rugs were accented by wood paneling and black stained floors. Several blades gleamed like trophies from a rack mounted to the wall. The black was a horrible colour for a small room, but at least the owner of this room had good taste in weapons.

  A deep, nasal laugh came from the corner of the room. A man I hadn’t noticed on my initial glance sat in the shadows. He eyed me with a wide grin. “That is what people do when they get tired,” he said, sounding patronizing.

  I yanked the blanket from the bed and held it up to shield my body. My eyes met the stranger’s gaze. At first glance, I thought he was Azrael. His bright eyes, square jaw, and the angle of his nose were stunningly similar. My heart leapt before my better sense took over. The man—not Azrael—leaned back casually in a chair, his black boots resting on a table and his hands clasped behind his head. He was in his late twenties or early thirties.

  He stood, his long, black leather coat skimming elegantly along the ground like a king’s robe. His dark blond hair was slicked back, but humidity curled the locks at the nape of his neck. A wicked grin flashed across his face as he advanced toward me. My eyes fell to the silver sword hidden under his coat.

  I hadn’t wielded a sword in decades, but I certainly hadn’t forgotten how to use one. I leaped against the wall and rebounded from the sword rack with the weapon in hand.

  “Advance no more, sir,” I warned. “I am no ordinary lady.” I held my weapon, in front of me.

  The man tilted his head back in a mocking laugh. He had no idea who he was dealing with. “Had I wished to harm you, signorina, I could have done so easily—while you slept.” The rolling, high and low cadence of his speech took me off guard. I did not waver in my hold on the sword.

  “As I said, not one step closer, or you will force me to defend myself.” I took a ready stance, hoping to show him I was prepared to fight.

  He took an on-guard stance and the corner of his mouth twitched in a grim smirk. “Am I to believe that if I have any less-than-noble intentions upon you, I would be deterred by a slight—but bellissima—” he kissed his fingers in my direction “—signorina?” His eyebrows rose in question.

  I didn’t know what he was talking about until he cast me a look of desire. Angered, I thrust my sword in his direction as intimidation since I had no intention on hurting him if I didn’t have to.
My captor blocked with his own sword and stepped back. “Step aside and allow me my freedom,” I said and strode forward, brandishing my sword fiercely.

  “Unfortunately, signorina, I cannot. You are far too valuable.” He made a flourishing bow, and rose in an instant, the pretense of regret in his expression was ruined by the lust there as well.

  "Then you leave me no choice but to fight." I struck again, aiming for his middle. He stepped aside and parried once more. Even a skilled Immortal like myself could appreciate his perfect form. Blood thawed in my sea-chilled veins, quickening my senses. The grip of the sword sunk into my hand naturally. I’d forgotten how much I missed the intensity of a fight. I pushed forward toward the door, attempting to exit from the room. He only attacked in an effort to push me back.

  He lunged for me. I blocked and forced his blade several inches into the wall. Abandoning it there, he whirled with grace and speed and grasped two swords from the rack. He grinned in triumph as he met each of my attacks in a blur of blades.

  He was good, but was he a master like me? I bounded across the room with the grace and silence a cat would envy. I snatched a second sword from the wall and aimed the long blades at my captor. I stayed inside the streams of sunlight from the windows as much as I could. Our swords sliced and clanged in a metallic chorus, our blades beating against one another in a rhythm matched only by the dance of flawless footwork.