‘Think what powers I might grant you,’ the demon said. ‘I have touched your mind. I have seen the darkness there. All that death. Would you have me erase it?’
Sadie’s voice caught in her throat. ‘Erase what, exactly?’
‘Please, saviour.’ Lysandra raised herself on a single knee, keeping her head lowered. She was trying to remain patient. ‘She is nothing but a greedy child. She could never truly be your master.’
‘You have had your say, priestess. Now the girl will speak.’
‘I don’t have anything to say,’ Sadie insisted.
‘Sadie?’
That voice froze her.
‘Sadie, love. You haven’t forgotten about us?’
There was her dad, as she always remembered him: corduroy jacket and elbow patches, two weeks late for a haircut, his glasses askew and smudged. And there was her mum, her hair pinned up, one handing resting on her hip. They stood where the flame had burned, in a corona of firelight.
It wasn’t them, not really. Sadie knew that. But that didn’t stop it hurting. The same air boiled in her chest. She cried the same tears. But she understood what the demon wanted. It didn’t want to repay any debt, it wanted her in its debt, forever. She’d seen what it had done to Lysandra. The demon wasn’t choosing a new master, not really. It was choosing a slave.
Her parents were gone now, and the flame flickered before her again.
‘They are waiting for you, if you ask for them. If I choose you.’
‘You want me to make a wish,’ Sadie said.
‘Perhaps the priestess is right. Perhaps I am a weapon. And a weapon is nothing if it is never used.’
Lysandra was on her feet now. ‘A weapon needs a strong hand. It needs ambition. All she offers is grief and heartbreak.’
Sadie ignored her, addressing the flame. ‘You could really bring them back?’
‘Should I choose you, yes.’
‘I could save my family.’
Again, Sadie looked at Jake. He didn’t shake his head, or offer a gesture as a warning. It took her a moment to realise why. He knew she would make the right choice. She didn’t need his help.
But it did help, thinking of Jake. Because she knew then that you couldn’t cheat death, not really. She looked at Lysandra, with her cheekbones of coral. That was what immortality looked like. A dream that came at a terrible cost.
‘There’s so much I’d change,’ Sadie said, quietly. ‘I always thought I’d give anything.’
‘Then ask. Make me your servant.’
‘No.’ Sadie’s voice surprised her. Any doubts had gone. ‘I wouldn’t give anything.’ Her eyes burned with tears. ‘I love my mum, but she’s gone. I love my dad, but he’s gone. They’ll always be gone.’ She thought of her grandparents in their Mosman Park cottage. And Tom, on his father’s boat. Her cousins, in a police cell. Everything she had done these last days wasn’t for excitement. It wasn’t to change the world. It was to protect the place she thought she hated, the place she had always dreamed of escaping. ‘I wouldn’t risk what I have left, not for anything.’
The flame spat impatient sparks. ‘Then what is your wish?’
Sadie chose her words carefully. She could feel the Gods listening, waiting on her answer. She could feel their impatience, their anger. ‘I ask for nothing. Keep your power to yourself.’
The voice swirled around her, scattering her damp hair. ‘To be your servant, I would be free?’
‘Yes. Forget all about us. Go back to the sea. Go home.’
Sadie felt the voice move away from her, rushing towards Lysandra.
‘Two wishes,’ it said. ‘Two new masters. One who wants the world, one who wants nothing at all. One who wants war, one who would do anything to stop it.’
‘You are a weapon,’ the priestess said. ‘Choose the master that will put you to the purpose you deserve. Together, we will wage war on the Gods.’
The air in the cathedral was still. Electric. Sadie felt hairs lift from her arms.
The flame laughed. Quietly, then loud enough to scare dust from the stone walls. Cruel, mocking laughter.
‘I am a weapon,’ it said.
The column of flame erupted into blinding light. For a moment, Sadie could see a white, helmeted creature, its outstretched arms becoming a pair of powerful wings. Feathers of flame unfurled across the hall. Sadie staggered backwards from its glare, colliding with the stinking beast behind her.
Jake’s arm wrapped around her and pulled her sideways.
‘I’ve got you,’ he said, his throat parched.
‘I thought it would want to be free.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘She’s really going to do it, she’s going to start a war.’
24
HIS LAST BREATH
The glare died down, but a new light poked into the cathedral’s forgotten crevices. The stone walls sparkled, and the slate floor shone. The crowd appeared washed in warm sunlight, for the first time in millennia. They were human again, their skin flushed and pink, their eyes clear. Lysandra raised herself to her full height. Her eyes were dark and rich, and her skin was immaculate. Long, glossy hair fell across her elegant shoulders.
Sadie stumbled back, appalled. Lysandra’s wish had been granted. Everything was lost. The Gods were coming.
Gliding forward, the priestess pointed at Jake. ‘For thousands of years, you denied us our inheritance. You kept our salvation locked away in a box, dooming us to the depths. But those above never forgot us. They invented a name to remember us by, a legend. Atlantis. Today, they will meet that legend and tremble at our might. Today, Atlantis rises!’
‘No,’ Jake said, and that was all.
Lysandra’s dark eyes narrowed. She paused, as if waiting for a punch line. ‘Defiance, even now. I am on the threshold of divinity, about to do battle with the Gods themselves. You cannot deny me.’
‘You never asked me why. Why I kept the demon from you.’
‘You fear war.’
‘Yes, but that wasn’t all. Look at yourself Lysandra.’
‘I am redeemed! We are all redeemed!’
‘The demon is a creature of mischief. It has merely been toying with you, just as it toyed with you thousands of years ago. There was no choice for it to make. It already has a master.’
Lysandra flattened a palm across her breastplate. ‘I am its master!’
‘I hid from you for too long. I was scared, I was ashamed. I could have put an end to this long ago. It took Sadie to show me that.’
Sadie thought she understood. ‘It’s you,’ she said. ‘Back at the God squad place. You spoke to it. It chose you.’
Jake nodded. ‘I told it you would bring it here. I said it would be free. On one condition. That it undid its last wish. That it put things right.’
Lysandra hissed. ‘But I have my immortality!’
‘You have your life,’ Jake said. ‘What little of it remains.’
Lysandra glanced at the glowing creature to her left: this strange, incandescent bird of flame hovering above the tiles. She turned her hands over. They were no longer beautiful. The skin was loose and liver-spotted, sagging about her long fingers. She lifted them to snatch at her slackening face. Heavy bags were pulling cheeks down and away from foggy eyes.
‘No. No, this cannot be.’ The protest turned to powder on Lysandra’s dry tongue.
A terrified chorus rose from those gathered. Children split their clothes, growing up and then creasing over as they withered like old trees. The stones in the walls no longer sparkled. Cracks appeared, spitting grey dust. Water hissed and pressed at the windows. The roof began to crumble. The years, all those stolen centuries, were consuming the Drowners. Fathers and mothers and children were clattering to the uneven floor as rags an
d bones.
Sadie stared in horror, snatching at Jake’s elbow. ‘They’re dying. All of them.’
‘They should have died a long time ago.’
‘But—I told you to stop her.’
Jake turned sharply towards her, gripping her jaw between finger and thumb, holding her gaze. ‘And I did. But you were right, Sadie. It’s not my fault, and it’s certainly not yours. She did this. Lysandra, alone.’
The demon was laughing, delighting in the chaos it had wrought. And then it was gone. A bird of light, a hawk, then a dove, then a sparrow, then a moth flickered against the dark windows. Then it was through the glass, fading away in the deep water. After thousands of years, it was home. The fire in the sea. Sadie watched it go, transfixed. Jake grabbed her hand and spun her towards the door. ‘We’re leaving!’
A great wooden beam came crashing down, bringing most of the ceiling with it. Jumping clear, Sadie saw Lysandra launch herself at Jake, shrieking. There was little of her left but sinew and skeleton. Only her rage kept her alive. She knocked him to the ground, and her spindly arms pinned his wrists to the slate. The box skidded away across the tiles.
‘I will see you broken for this. I will tear out your soul.’ Her right hand plunged down, forcing itself into Jake’s open mouth.
Sadie had been knocked onto her backside and, with the city crumbling around her, took a few seconds to realise what was happening. The priestess was attempting to tear Jake from his body, just as the attackers had tried that first night at the beach. Sadie rushed at Lysandra, and tried to pull her off by her armpits, but the priestess was as stiff and sturdy as a sunbaked tree trunk. Sadie looked about for a weapon and grabbed the abandoned box. With a yell of desperation, she brought it crashing down on Lysandra’s balding scalp.
The priestess flinched, weakening for only a moment. Still, it was time enough. Jake’s shoulders buckled and he threw Lysandra off him and wrestled her back to the floor. The last of the fury seemed to go out of her. And she turned to dust in his hands.
Jake leapt to his feet, ready to run, as another girder fell. The roof was all but destroyed now, and there was no way to reach the door. Before Sadie could say anything, the windows shattered. The water rushed in with cruel relish, smashing the two of them against what remained of the walls. They were thrown and tumbled—currents passed them about like playground bullies tossing a stolen ball.
Sadie thought she might be lost forever in the fizz and spin. There was the sun, squinting down at her through the murk and the maelstrom. It was too far away, she could see that. She wasn’t going to make it to the surface. As she watched, the light seemed to recede. She forced herself to concentrate, and forced her tired legs to kick. She looked for the light, pushed herself towards it. The city fell away beneath her. She could do this.
The water warmed around her. She swam towards the distant sun. But she could feel herself starting to slow. Her legs floundered, exhausted and useless. Too late, she thought. Her empty chest burned and it was all she could do to stop herself gulping down seawater.
Then Jake was in front of her, a smudge of colour in the pale light. He took her face in both hands and pressed his lips to hers. Her cheeks filled and her lungs relaxed. He was giving her his last breath.
All the time, he kept kicking with his battered legs, lifting her towards the surface. As tiny bubbles escaped from the edges of his mouth, his kicks became sloppy. Finally, his body convulsed and he let go of her. His mouth opened and the sea filled it. He hung there, a broken thing, suspended in cold sunlight.
Sadie lifted her chin. The sun was looking for her, glancing through the choppy surface, feeling into the depths. She guessed she had another five metres. She could do that. She swam over to Jake, hooked her arms under his and kicked with the last of her energy. Her movements were clumsy and desperate, every muscle surrendering, but the sun swelled with each new kick. Slowly, slowly.
Her head was buzzing and there was panic in her stomach. The closer she got to the surface, the harder it was to hold her breath—Jake’s breath. She kicked with new fury, with outrage. She was so close. She wouldn’t be beaten by a few feet of water. And then, then—
25
SHORE LEAVE
The sun smacked Sadie in the face. She spat water and swallowed air. Each breath was a sweet salve for the burning in her chest.
Jake’s head was heavy on her right shoulder. Numbness spread out to her fingertips, which clawed at his T-shirt. Below, Sadie’s legs danced awkwardly. She couldn’t keep both of them afloat for long.
The mid-morning sun spread out across the towering wave which still blocked the horizon. If the wave was still there, Sadie thought, then Perth was still there. For now. There wasn’t time to be happy about that. They had to be at least five kilometres offshore, maybe more. There was no way she could make it that far and, besides, Jake wasn’t breathing.
In the distance, something glinted. Something steel, something white. Sadie squinted, trying to make it out. It was getting closer. Could it be the yacht? She was sure she could hear the murmur of an engine.
‘Sades!’
It was the yacht, tracing the wall of water. Tom thrashed his arms about in greeting.
Sadie almost sank with relief. She tried to wave, tried to shout, but only ended up gargling.
Within a minute, Tom was alongside. He reached over the side of the boat to her.
‘Don’t worry about me,’ Sadie gasped. ‘Get Jake on board.’
‘He’s alive?’
‘He was. Come on, quick!’
Tom dragged Jake up onto the deck. ‘Those guys, those things. They sort of became normal. They were cheering, like it was New Year’s. You know, swords in the air. Then, I don’t know, they just dropped their swords and wasted away. The boat started rocking. I thought we were gonna capsize.’
Sadie didn’t say anything. The scene in the cathedral seemed a long way away now, and she wanted to leave it there. Clambering aboard, she fell forwards on her hands and knees. For a second, she thought she might be sick. In the stillness, on the boat deck, the panic and despair of the last hours threatened to overwhelm her.
‘Did you do it?’ Tom asked. ‘Did you stop them?’
‘Jake did it. Just like he promised.’
‘So we’re safe?’
Sadie glanced upwards at an angry sun. She didn’t know what she was expecting. Lightning bolts? A falling sky? ‘I don’t know. Not yet.’
She rolled Jake over on his side and found a weak pulse in his wrist. He was alive. He had survived the Minotaur and survived Lysandra. Surely he could survive this. Water flowed from his slack mouth. She pinched his nose and pressed her lips to his. She breathed out sharply, four times, and watched Jake’s chest. Nothing. She gave Jake another four breaths. Still nothing.
The boat rocked, lurching forwards as the prow dipped. A heavy, dark figure had torn itself free of the water wall and landed on the deck. It threw back its bovine head and roared. Not the sound of triumph, but anguish.
Tom dropped to a crouch and scurried away, as far as he could get from the creature. He could barely look at it. His flushed cheeks seemed suddenly wan.
Keeping her eyes on the beast, Sadie slowly reached across the deck and dragged over one of the Drowners’ fallen swords. She stood, even as the boat lurched again. The Minotaur moved towards her.
‘You’ll need to look after Jake,’ she told Tom. ‘Like I was doing, four breaths at a time.’
‘Sades, that thing’s deadly.’
‘I know.’
Sadie edged forwards along the guide-rail. She held a palm out before her, as if hoping to calm an excited pup. The beast bellowed at her, all spittle and fury, squinting in the dazzling light off the water.
The sword was heavy. Every muscle in Sadie’s arm strained to hold it steady. The poi
nt of the blade wavered in the direction of the beast’s heart. If the Minotaur were to throw itself towards her, would she be strong enough to kill it? What was the alternative?
‘Asterion? That’s your name, yeah?’
Again the beast roared, swiping at her with its gruesome nails. Foul stenches leached from its matted fur. Rancid meat clung to its jaws. She took another step forward.
‘It’s just you and me now,’ she said.
The creature roared again, spraying her with things she didn’t want to think about. She resisted the urge to wipe her face, and moved closer still. The beast’s foul breath made her gag, but she kept the sword’s tip pointing towards its heart. She could kill it now, with one thrust of the blade.
Every moment she delayed, every second she postponed, she put her life at risk. And the lives of everyone onboard.
‘Please,’ Sadie said.
The Minotaur shifted, and a high, thin note chimed along the blade. The jagged edge had struck the lock strung around the creature’s neck. Sadie had never thought about the chain. But now she remembered Lysandra’s pendant—a key—on a length of foul string.
The sword trembled in her aching hand. Her gaze met the creature’s dark glare. The eyes twitched and, behind them, she saw intelligence.
Sadie wasn’t a killer. She thought of Lysandra’s people, dying in darkness for thousands of years, their faces falling apart on the ocean floor. She thought of Frobisher, his blood setting in the carpet. And she thought of her parents. She had seen enough death.
Gritting her teeth, Sadie swiped forwards and upwards. The blade snagged on the chain around the creature’s neck. She thrust her weight underneath it. A link buckled and finally, finally, the chain gave way, falling heavily to the deck.
There was a moment of absolute stillness. Even the waves seemed to pause as the Minotaur stared at its liberator. Then, it roared once more and threw itself at her. Sadie was knocked backwards. Heavy paws pinned her shoulders to the deck. A terrible jaw loomed above her, ready to snap shut around her throat.
Fire in the Sea Page 19
