by Ann Gimpel
“Get hold of yourself,” her cat spoke sternly.
If Aura had been human, she’d have nodded glumly. As things stood, she remained silent and waited while all the animals bid farewell to Rowana and her eagle.
When everyone was done, the animals formed a circle. Rowana’s eagle spread its wings but continued to stand on her chest. Its intense, avian gaze moved from one to the other of them.
“She was proud of all of you,” the eagle said. “She valued your courage and your determination and your friendship. Rowana may be gone, but you must not let her down. You must honor her belief in you.”
The air around the eagle grew impossibly bright, and the bird broke into motes of light as it left this plane for the animals’ special world.
The brilliance faded, and Aura reached for her human body. They’d done all they could to pay tribute to Rowana, but a dull ache throbbed behind her breastbone. As she dressed, tears spilled down her cheeks. The eagle had spoken bravely, but Aura had no idea where she’d get the strength to go on.
Viktor walked into the room and gathered Ketha into a hug. “The ceremony was beautiful,” he said. “I arrived about the same time as the eagle, but I didn’t want to disturb you so I remained in the doorway.”
“Did the sea settle enough to...bury her?” Ketha stumbled over the word bury.
Viktor nodded. “Once we left the cove, it improved, which is very unusual.”
“Maybe in the world you understood, but in a world powered by magical factions fighting one another, it’s not odd at all,” Karin said, and then added, “After we passed beyond the area controlled by the sorcerer, things would have grown better.”
Juan and Recco joined them, carrying a makeshift stretcher with cord threaded through it, and headed to the table where Rowana lay. “Is she ready?” Juan asked.
Aura nodded. While Rowana had moved beyond caring what came next, Aura would never be ready to commit her friend to the sea. She did her best to drag herself out of the funk she’d fallen into. Burial at sea was a clean end. It beat the hell out of leaving Rowana on that cursed island for the dark mage to tinker with.
Viktor let go of Ketha and helped the other men roll Rowana onto the litter. Aura joined them and secured her to lash points on the frame. “What happens once we get her on deck?” she asked.
“We cut the cords and offer her to the sea,” Viktor said. “Normally, I’d say a prayer, but I believe you covered those bases. Nothing I could articulate would be as poignant as what I saw when your animals gathered around her body and her eagle.” His voice cracked, ragged with emotion.
Juan grabbed a handle next to Rowana’s shoulder. Recco took the other handle at the head end of the bier, and Viktor picked up both grips at the foot end. The men carried Rowana from the dining room. Everyone followed them up a flight of stairs and onto the large open deck one floor up.
Daide and Boris were there. So were Ted, Sasha, and Diana. Boris touched Aura’s arm as she walked past. “I’m so sorry about your friend. If it weren’t for us—”
“Rowana did the right thing,” Aura cut him off. “It was how she lived.”
“She had a brave heart,” Boris went on. “And I am truly sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” Aura met his kind brown gaze.
Viktor and the other two men had laid the bier on the deck. Juan sliced through the cords and stood. He gazed from one woman to the next. “Which four of you will offer her to the sea?”
“I will.” Aura stepped forward.
“As will I.” Karin joined her.
“Me.” Ketha squared her shoulders.
“Och, and I shall as well.” Zoe marched to one of the bier’s handles. Kneeling, she kissed Rowana’s pale, withered cheek.
Something about the gesture smote Aura, and sobs spilled through her. She stepped to one of the handles ready to do right by her friend.
Once all four of them were in place, they lifted the pallet to rail level and tilted it. Rowana’s body sank into the gray-green waters. The pallet clattered when it landed on the deck, empty of its burden. Aura curled her fingers around the icy metal railing. Pain sliced through her, so raw and primal she feared it would rip her in two. No one could hurt this keenly and keep on living.
Arms closed around her from behind.
Juan murmured, “I’m sorry, Aura. Is there anything I can do?”
His words were so kind, they unhinged her further. She’d treated him like a high-handed bitch in the ice cave. All he’d been trying to do was ensure her safety, and she’d been wrapped up in being right and saving someone who was already dead. A corpse that had almost been the death of Viktor.
“You have nothing to be sorry for,” she managed between gasping, choking sobs. Turning in his arms, she wrapped hers around him. “It’s me who owes you a huge apology. I’m very sorry. No excuses. You didn’t deserve what I said.” A fresh spate of sobs obliterated her next words.
He stroked her hair and murmured wordless soothing endearments. They stood there so long, no one else was left on deck when she finally dragged her head away from Juan’s chest.
“It’s never easy,” he said.
“What isn’t?” Her words echoed, hollow and pained.
“Giving bodies to the sea. I’ve done it many times, and every single one has felt like I failed somehow.”
She tilted her head back, welcoming the cold wind on her overheated face and swollen eyes. “We should go inside.”
“We should,” he agreed. “We could all use dinner, and we have to plot a course for where we go next.”
Aura didn’t want to go anywhere else new, but she was ashamed to admit it. It besmirched Rowana’s eagle’s faith in them. To avoid talking about it, she asked, “How’s Nora doing?”
“Conscious, but weak. Distraught over her son’s death, but it’s to be expected.” Juan led them to the closest door leading inside.
Aura’s cabin wasn’t far. “Mind if I stop and throw some cold water on my face?” she asked.
“Not at all. Would you welcome company, or would you rather I met you in the bar? It’s where everyone’s congregating to drink a toast to Rowana.”
“Come on in.” She pushed her door open and walked to the sink, sluicing water over her face.
Juan settled in the desk chair, watching her. “I’ve been trying to figure out the connection between the wicked wizard who took over King George Island and the Cataclysm.”
Surprise rocked her, and she dried her face. “I’m not sure there is one.” She turned to face Juan. “Shifters and Vamps created the Cataclysm when their spell went off the rails.”
“Yeah. I understand that part.” Juan angled his head to one side. “But once evil was loose in the world, I bet it strengthened every other damnable creature. Fed them, breathed life into them.”
“I was thinking much the same thing in the dining room with Rowana and the others.”
Juan sent an encouraging glance her way, so she went on. “We were all so focused on the Shifters’ spell—the one interrupted by Vampires a decade ago—none of us dug much beyond the Cataclysm.” She took a measured breath. “We assumed if we could pick up where the spell was interrupted, it would run to its conclusion and disrupt the Cataclysm.”
“And redesign Vampires into Shifters along the way,” Juan added.
“Exactly. What we weren’t attentive to was the other fallout from having pure evil loose in the world for a protracted period of time. Ketha needs to consult her spell book. It might contain historical information that sheds light on our circumstances.”
Juan smiled crookedly. “Spoken like the historian you are.”
Aura shrugged. “If I learned anything, it’s that history repeats itself. If we want to know what’s likely to happen next, the best way to figure it out is to study what’s gone before.”
“How about prophecies? Do any of them—finished or not—address where we are now?”
“I don’t know, but we need to explor
e every single avenue before we make any more mistakes.”
Juan’s expression turned solemn. “We were tricked, but it’s no excuse. We were so busy searching for more of the unnatural beasts that attacked us on the ship, we missed what was right under our noses.”
“Yeah. I felt stupid about our oversight too. Particularly when it turned out the whole goddamned thing was illusion. The humanoids weren’t any more real than the animals they morphed into. The whole thing was like a perverted light show with a sorcerer manipulating puppet strings backstage and laughing his head off when we fell for his deception.”
Juan stood and crossed the small space to stand in front of her. When he held out his arms, she walked into them and hugged him back. He felt good against her. Solid and warm and dependable. He cupped one side of her face in a calloused palm. “I’m going to kiss you, but then we’re going upstairs to toast Ro and her eagle and wish them safe passage to the other side.”
Aura drank him in. Banked fires smoldered in the depths of his hazel eyes. A woman could get lost in those eyes. She tilted her head, eager for the press of his lips, and he closed his mouth over hers. Beard stubble tickled. He tasted of salt spray, and her mouth came alive beneath his touch. He moved his hand to the back of her head and laced his fingers beneath her hair, holding her in place while he explored her mouth lazily, nibbling, sucking, biting, kissing.
Heat began in her belly, spreading in expanding circles, and she splayed her fingers across his back, drawing him as close as she could. Her breath quickened, and her nipples turned to exquisite points of sensation where they pressed against his chest.
He groaned, a decidedly male sound, and dragged his mouth from hers. “Upstairs,” he said. His voice held a raspy edge, betraying his hunger for her. “If we don’t leave now, we never will, and you’ll kick yourself for missing the wake.”
Aura untangled her arms from him and nodded. “You’re right, of course. I want to be there while everyone tells stories about Rowana and shares their fondest memories.”
He held out a hand, and she took it. Together, they made their way out of the cabin and down the hall. “Ketha told us about Viktor almost drowning,” Aura said. “Must have given you a hell of a scare.”
A shadow crossed his face, and the line of his jaw tightened. “I’ve never felt so conflicted. I wanted to go in after him when he didn’t surface, but if I had and didn’t make it, there’d have been no one who knew the first thing about how to move Arkady from Point A to Point B.”
“Torn between love for your friend and duty toward the rest of us.” She stopped on the fourth deck’s landing and turned to gaze at him.
“That’s about the size of it, but he’s not the only one I love.” Juan gripped her tighter. “I love you too, Aura. It came to me clear as day out there on the gangway’s platform when I was fighting the sea for Viktor’s life. Except I thought you and I had no chance.” His mouth curved into the half smile she’d come to cherish, and she traced the line of his mouth with her fingertips.
“Thanks for not giving up on me.”
“Never. I’ll always be here for you.”
She inhaled raggedly and pushed past her lifelong fear of letting anyone close enough to hurt her. “I’ll always be here for you too.”
He broke into a million-watt smile. “You’ve made me a very happy man.”
Her gaze roved over the sculpted planes of his face. God, he was gorgeous. No man had a right to be so beautiful, but she’d had handsome men in her life before. The big difference was none of them had possessed Juan’s glorious spirit.
“What? I can almost hear that brain of yours churning.”
Heat rose to her face, but she held his gaze. “You are one beautiful man, but what I fell in love with is your spirit. It shines through your eyes, pure and decent and vibrant. Not that pain hasn’t touched you, but you’ve found ways to keep on living and remain true to yourself.”
His salt-stained, whiskered cheeks turned ruddy. “Try being a Vampire. It would push anyone to their limits.”
“See? That’s exactly what I mean.”
A shout rose from the bar down the hall. Juan tugged on their laced fingers. “Come on. We’re missing the healing part. The reason we hold wakes is so the survivors aren’t immobilized by grief—or guilt.”
Aura remembered the despondency shrouding her with misery as she stood at the rail and watched Rowana plunge into the sea. She rose up on tiptoe to kiss Juan’s cheek, and then they covered the fifty feet between them and the large, well-appointed ship’s bar.
“There you are!” rose in a chorus.
Ketha ran to them. “If you hadn’t shown up soon”—she shook a finger beneath Aura’s nose—“I’d have come hunting for you.”
“Here you go.” Viktor passed them shot glasses filled with what smelled like scotch.
“To Rowana,” rang around them.
“To Rowana, closest thing I had to a mother.” Aura clinked her glass against Juan’s and drained it. The liquor burned a path through her mouth and throat, but it felt warm and comforting in her stomach.
Juan led the way to two empty seats beneath a window. Aura settled into one of them and gazed around the group. “Where’s Recco?”
“He has the helm,” Viktor said.
“It’s not good to leave the ship on autopilot for extended periods,” Juan added. “Not without satellite guidance.”
Viktor rolled his eyes. “Hell, even when we had satellites, I still wanted eyes on instruments.”
Ketha nudged Aura. “We all shared stories about Ro. It’s your turn.”
Aura got back on her feet. She didn’t have to search for the memory she wanted to recount. “When I was about nineteen, I was in college, but I wasn’t doing much studying. Mostly I’d take my cat form every night and run and hunt with a mixed Shifter pack. Come morning, I’d sleep, and then do it again the following evening. I’d hooked up with the equivalent of Shifter delinquents on the University of Washington campus. I was surprised how many of us were enrolled.”
Juan offered her a full shot glass, and she took a sip. “I went home for Christmas break that year. I’d been home for maybe half an hour when Rowana stopped by, arms full of wrapped gifts and Christmas cheer and reeking of sugar and cinnamon from cookies and pies.
“She hauled ass up to my bedroom, snapped up a coat, and dragged me out of the house. Told me she had something to show me, but instead she drove to a deserted field and used magic to seal us into the car. She gave me hell. Told me I was headed down a nowhere road, a disappointment to her and everyone else who’d invested in my future.”
Aura pressed her lips together, embarrassed, but determined to finish what she had to say. “I might have blown her off. I was young and full of hubris, but one thing she said got through. Apparently, my cat was within a hairsbreadth of breaking its bond with me. I thought it loved romping every night, but I’d read the signs all wrong.”
Breath whistled through Aura’s teeth. “At the end of her diatribe, Rowana hugged me. She told me she had faith in me to do the right thing, that all wasn’t lost. Not yet, anyway. And then, she retracted her spell and told me I could leave if I wanted.”
Ketha leaned closer. “I’ve never heard that story. What did you do?”
“After I got done crying?” Aura smiled softly. “I asked her to bring me back to her house, and we spent the next two days baking and practicing magic in human form. I’d spent so much time as a cat, mine had grown rusty.
“It was a turning point for me. I went back to school and prioritized why I was there. I’ve always loved her for putting out the effort. She didn’t have to, and if my cat had severed our bond, it would have broken me.”
Aura raised her glass. “Here’s to Ro. I’ll love her forever, and I’ll never forget her selflessness or her generosity.”
A chorus of “To Ro” and “To Rowana” circled the room as everyone clinked glasses and drank a toast.
Aura sat next to Ju
an and eyed the group. “If my story was new to Ketha, which of you told tales I didn’t know about?”
Voices vied to be heard. Stories continued to flow as the group moved from the bar to the dining room where they turned out an impromptu meal. Recco returned, and Juan left to take his place at the helm, guiding the ship through the night.
The hurt places in Aura didn’t feel quite so hopeless and dead.
Viktor strode to the front of the dining room. “Before we turn in for the night, we need to talk about where we go next. I’ve set a course for McMurdo. If anywhere on the Antarctic continent has humans left who haven’t been tainted or turned by evil, it’ll be there.”
He stopped to take a measured breath. “Our experiences since we left Ushuaia haven’t been great. One of my other rationales for choosing McMurdo is if it turns out to be another hotbed of evil, we can head due north for New Zealand’s South Island. It’s only about a five-day journey.”
“What about returning to Ushuaia?” Karin asked. “At least we knew what we had there.”
“I considered it,” Viktor replied. “The reason we’re having this conversation is because everyone gets a vote. If a majority of you want Ushuaia, it’s where we’ll go.”
“Those are only two options,” Boris spoke up. “McMurdo or Ushuaia. I can think of many more.”
Viktor smiled. “So can I. The world really is one ocean, and we have the perfect tool to explore it.”
Aura’s attention wandered as the conversation plodded on. Everyone was tired, and most of them were half-drunk. “What will it cost us to put this decision off until tomorrow?” she asked.
“Nothing, assuming we continue on our current course,” Viktor replied. “If we end up turning around, we’ve only lost double the distance we traveled in the wrong direction, which is roughly twelve nautical miles every hour.”
“So twelve hours could cost us almost three hundred miles?” Aura asked, wanting to be sure she understood.
Viktor nodded and shrugged. “It sounds like a lot, but isn’t. Not for a ship with a range measured in thousands of knots.”
“I vote to table this,” Recco said.
