by S. E. Smith
“Watch out!” she cried.
You defy me! the creature hissed inside her.
It was time. She could not wait any longer.
“Goddess, please… give me the strength I need to finish this,” she whispered.
Her eyes teared with the sudden intense pain that swept through her. Fire burned through her veins. Her lips parted in a scream of agony when another intense wave hit her, but she swallowed it. She had to do what she could to distract the alien so that Drago or one of the others could strike at her.
A shuddering breath hissed from her. “Yesssss! You will never be able to defeat Drago and Orion,” she whispered to the being inside her as she fought for control.
I will destroy them all. Then, I will take care of you, the creature inside her hissed in fury.
“I… will not… allow you to harm… them,” she vowed.
She fought, but the creature forced the hand holding the knife to rise. She knew exactly what it was intending to do – kill King Oray. She wrapped her other hand around the wrist of the hand holding the knife, pushing against the movement with both hands.
“No!” she screamed, her body twisting away from the King.
The alien creature sent shards of electrical charges through her body, and her body bowed, her heart stuttering. She straightened like a puppet on a string and the knife again headed for the king’s throat. At the same time, the sound of an explosion resonated throughout the chamber. Magna felt a mind-shattering pain rip through her left shoulder. The knife fell to the floor as the force of the blow violently jerked her body backward, forced to turn from the impact on her shoulder, and she collapsed onto the floor.
She lay dazed on the cold stone near the throne. She could feel the warmth of her blood seeping through her clothing and beginning to pool under her. As she panted, the alien strained to free itself from her body, and she instinctively tightened her hold on the spell binding it close to her, but the alien surged through the spell-less path which had been created with the weapon’s gaping wound.
She issued a long, pain-filled gasp and her body arched as the dark entity poured out of her body through the wound in her shoulder. A shudder ran through her and she watched as the black cloud rose above her in a swirling mass. She sank back to the floor as the last of the entity vacated her body. A strange feeling, as if there were a huge, cavernous void inside of her, left her feeling momentarily confused and weak.
The feeling was quickly replaced with one that was all too familiar – fear. It burned through her, leaving her fingers and toes numb with it and her lungs constricted when she realized that the alien was now searching for a new host. It was too soon for it to be unbound; Orion hadn’t yet hit her with the Trident’s power. The alien was still fully in control of all of its own power.
The creature turned its attention to King Oray. Lifting her right hand, she whispered the spell that had bound them. Her body jerked when the spell hooked the entity, compelling it away from the frail King.
On the other side of the throne, she heard her cousin’s voice. Tears filled her eyes at the sound of it. There was so much she wanted to tell him. She would give anything to be able to beg for his forgiveness for everything that she had been unwillingly forced to do.
“Fire on it,” Orion shouted.
Release me, the alien hissed, wrathfully twisting and turning as Orion and Drago attacked it. I will destroy you!
Magna ignored the threat, knowing that she would be the one doing the destroying. She held the slender thread of connection between herself and the alien that had controlled her for the last two centuries with an iron will born of hope, desperation, and grief.
Closing her eyes, she focused on that link, slowly wrapping a second spell around it. The spells would hold the alien suspended in place above the throne, preventing it from moving away from her while also stopping it from returning to her body. A shudder ran through her when she felt the touch of a warm hand under her chin. She opened her eyes and stared up at the man who had injured her with his strange weapon. Tears slowly trailed down from the corners of her eyes at his look of concern.
“Go!” she ordered, licking her dry lips. “You have to… go,” she repeated, forcing the whispered words past the tight lump in her throat.
The man shook his head. “Not without you,” he replied in a grim tone.
He started to slide his arm around her shoulder and lift her. Her face contorted at the intense pain threatening to drown her in its fierce waves. Her right hand reached up to push against the man’s shoulder. She shook her head in regret.
“What is your name?” she asked, needing to know.
The man gave her a startled look. “Mike Hallbrook. I have to get you out of here,” he replied with a frown.
Her gaze moved to the ceiling above them again. He turned his head to see what she was looking at. Now was the time to strike. The creature was being torn apart by Drago’s dragon-fire and the disrupting bolts of power from the tridents of Orion and his men. She would kill the alien creature once and for all.
“No,” she said with a slight shake of her head when he started to lift her again. “No, I know how to… how to kill it now. Go! What I have to do will kill you all if you don’t. Go, Mike Hallbrook. Save my king and the Isles. Take the others with you. There is no hope for me. I would be sentenced to death anyway. Let me at least have some purpose to my life,” she pleaded in a tired voice.
She watched Mike’s eyes darken with indecision. Fear and determination gave her the strength she needed to push him to the side. She unsteadily rose to her feet. Taking a deep breath, she pulled on the last dwindling ounce of her strength and lifted her head. She ignored the agonizing pain in her shoulder as she raised her arms above her head and began chanting in a clear voice filled with determination.
Magic flooded her body, and she could feel the energy from the Isle of Magic seep into her, giving her the added strength she needed to cast the final blow that would free them all. Bright red blood ran down from her shoulder, staining the front of her white gown. She ignored everything but the magic of the spell building inside her and the black swarm of the alien near the ceiling.
I will not fail, she vowed to herself.
In the background, she could hear the urgent sound of Mike yelling for Drago and Orion to retreat. Mike had King Oray over his shoulder and was hurrying toward the burnt-out entrance of the throne room. Drago and Orion stopped their attacks to leave with him, and the alien refocused all its remaining strength to fighting against her hold.
“Let the light of truth guide me and be my sword,” she chanted.
Bright light flared out from around her as the spell she cast ignited the air in the room. Surging waves of power rolled through the room like a thick fog, sucking the air out of it. She could hear the sizzle of the alien’s body as the power swept over it, igniting its body with the bright light.
The creature struck out at her, but the blinding power of the light radiating from her prevented it from reaching her. Magna felt her body rising above the stone floor. Closing her eyes, she thought of the vast ocean that was her home and wished its cool liquid was surrounding her, extinguishing the flames that were scorching her tired body. As the air around her blazed with power, she felt her body being ripped apart until the void of blackness finally gave her relief.
It is over, she thought. I am free.
Chapter Two
Off the coast of Yachats, Oregon:
* * *
Gabe Lightcloud powered his thirty-two-foot trawler along the rocky coast. He took a deep breath of the crisp salty air. Today had been a good day.
He glanced at the time on the depth finder. No wonder my stomach is protesting, he thought. It was nearly seven o’clock in the evening. Turning the wheel, he started the long trip back to the docks. He had left the house just before sunrise and had spent most of the day doing catch and release for the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service. A new program at the University of Oregon had
given him an opportunity to combine work with research. The University of Oregon’s grant was part of an on-going research program backed by the USFWS to study the migratory patterns of Chinook Salmon.
As far as Gabe was concerned, he’d been assigned the fun part of the research – tagging, releasing, and not having to deal with people. He enjoyed the peace and quiet of working offshore. The sound of the motor, the waves slapping against the hull of his boat, and the high-pitched cries of seagulls hoping for an easy meal were his companions. He preferred them above anything else. He rolled his shoulders, glad he had finished his last catch for the day.
He hadn’t had anything to eat except an egg sandwich and a thermos of coffee this morning. He grinned as he stared out at the water. A nice shrimp dinner sounded pretty good right about now. If he couldn’t snag any, he’d settle for a nice grilled halibut. His mouth started watering at the thought of them cooking on the grill. Either one would be a welcome treat and was just what he needed to quiet his rebelling stomach. Hell, he might even be nice and see if Kane wanted to come over to watch the football game.
He turned the wheel when he saw a school of fish on the depth finder and pushed the throttle to neutral. Stepping out of the wheelhouse, he released the lock on the winch and lowered the net into the water. He made sure it wasn’t tangled before he turned back to the helm. Checking the settings on the depth finder, he searched the bottom for any structures that might be an issue before he pushed the throttle forward. He decided he’d troll for half an hour before pulling everything in and heading back home.
The time was almost up when he felt a slight drag on the boat. He turned in time to see the buoy attached to the net violently dip below the surface. He quickly pushed the throttle back into neutral. He muttered a curse and sighed in frustration. He should have quit while he was ahead. If the net was caught on the bottom or worse, tangled around some floating garbage, it could mean a long night, which meant it would be even longer before he had anything to eat.
Gabe grabbed the net and began pulling it in. The one thing that bugged him more than anything else was when people decided to use the ocean as their own private garbage dump. He was always finding shit that someone had thrown out.
He frowned when he felt the net shift. Afraid it might have caught on something, he looked over the side, but didn’t see any sign that it was snagged. He hoped it wasn’t, because the net was a pain in the ass to patch. Shifting the winch into gear again, he continued reeling in the net. Then he heard a moan.
“What the hell?” he muttered, pressing the stop button on the winch control. “Shit!”
Muttering under his breath, he decided he must have snagged some unsuspecting seal pup. He grabbed the net and continued pulling it in by hand. His eyes widened in shock when he saw a person caught in the net. Moving swiftly, he finished pulling the net in. He lowered it and his unexpected catch to the deck of the rocking boat. Grabbing the side of the net, he released it from the rigging and knelt next to the still, cold body.
“Damn it,” Gabe muttered under his breath. “I don’t need a dead body on my boat.”
He gently rolled the body over, pulled away the netting tangled around it, and gasped when he saw that it belonged to a woman. Yanking off his gloves, he carefully brushed the long tangle of midnight hair back from her pale face. He touched the icy skin of her neck, feeling for a pulse, and pulled back in surprise when she shuddered and moaned.
He gently touched her cheek again, smoothing back a long strand of hair. She was deathly pale with dark shadows under her eyes. His shocked brain also noted that she was beautiful in a weird, exotic way.
“Hey, lady,” Gabe said in a rough voice. “Can you hear me?”
He watched in fascination as her lush, black eyelashes fluttered for a moment before she opened her eyes. He gazed down into crystal-clear green eyes. He couldn’t help but wonder who in the hell she was and why she was miles off the Pacific Coast in freezing water. He was just about to ask her when she rolled to her side and threw up all over his rubber boots.
“Ah, hell,” he muttered, looking down at the heaving figure.
Half an Hour Earlier:
* * *
Magna softly moaned as the pain from her shoulder pulled her to consciousness for a brief moment. The pain was the first thing telling her that she hadn’t died from her Starburst spell. The gentle sway of her body surrounded by water and the feeling of weightlessness was the second thing.
For a brief moment, she wondered if the Goddess had granted her a measure of compassion. That thought quickly fled when she tried to move and was in too much pain and too exhausted to do it. The current flowed around her, sweeping her along the rocky bottom, and she was powerless to prevent herself from bumping against the rocks, causing even more excruciating pain to radiate through her. The spell had taken every ounce of energy she had left.
Eventually, an upwelling current caused her to rise, mercifully giving her a measure of relief. As she floated along, Magna didn’t bother opening her eyes. She preferred not knowing where she was for fear of waking up and discovering it was all an illusion and she was once more a captive inside her own body. She wanted to hold onto the feel of the water surrounding her, even if it came with pain.
She listlessly floated for what seemed like an eternity before something wrapped around her. The weight of the coarse threads pushed her back down to the bottom. She tried to lift her hand and push it away, but it was useless. She was too weak. She gave up, and let it take her. Deciding that her dream was coming to another agonizing end, she gave in to the darkness.
She awoke again when she was lifted out of the soothing comfort of the water. She wanted to scream in protest, but the scream came out as a soft moan. As she was lowered onto a hard surface, a stray tear slipped from the corner of her eye and grief filled her. All hope was gone. She couldn’t fight the creature any longer. The only way she could still be alive was if she had failed. Nausea rose in her throat when the cold air connected with the wound in her shoulder. A protest formed on her lips when she was suddenly rolled onto her back.
A shudder swept through her when a warm hand pressed against her neck. Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself staring up into a pair of unfamiliar brown eyes. The combination of pain and the movement of her body was too much for her rebellious stomach. Rolling to the side, she ejected the last remnants of the dead creature from her stomach all over the man’s scuffed up white boots.
She dropped her head to the side when she was done. She was too weak and tired to bother lifting it. Instead, she closed her eyes and shuddered again as the darkness rose up to claim her. She hoped this time it was for good. She really was too tired to fight any longer.
Gabe contemplated the woman lying on the deck of his boat as he knelt next to her limp body. There was a little more color in her face now that she’d thrown up. Muttering a series of expletives under his breath, he gently scooped her up in his arms and rose to his feet. He squinted, and carefully searched the water nearby before looking up to scan the horizon. There wasn’t another boat in sight. He looked toward the rocky coast. Hell, he was at least a mile offshore. There was no way the woman swam that distance, especially wearing an evening gown.
He looked down at her again and froze. The gown on her left shoulder was bright red with fresh blood. He tightened his lips into a firm line and he walked toward the lower galley and cabin area.
Awkwardly navigating the stairs, he breathed a sigh of relief when the woman didn’t react as he shifted her around to fit through the doorway. He walked over to his bunk and gently laid her down, then turned on the light above his bed. He gripped the material on her shoulder and ripped it open. His eyes widened, and he paled when he saw the evidence hidden beneath the silky material.
“Shot?” he hissed, glancing back up at her pale face. “Lady, what the hell happened to you? Why would anyone shoot you and dump your ass in the Pacific?”
He gently lifted her enough to s
ee the other side of her shoulder. There was no exit wound. Gabe stood up and pulled open the cabinet above the bed. He pulled out the first aid kit and sat back down. Setting the kit down on the bed, he opened it and pulled out some gauze bandage and tape. There wasn’t much he could do for her on the boat. It wasn’t the cleanest place in the world and he didn’t have the medical expertise to remove a bullet. He would patch her up as best he could and radio for assistance.
He quickly dried the area, covered the wound with the clean gauze, and taped it down. He looked at the relaxed lines of the woman’s face. She hadn’t moved an inch during his clumsy patch job. Unable to resist, he reached out and turned her face toward him. Her features were arresting. She didn’t look like she was of European descent, but she didn’t look like she had any Asian ancestry either. His fingers ran down her pale cheek.
A slight, rusty smile curved his lips before a frown creased his brow when he noticed a thin line along the right side of her pale neck. It started just behind her ear and curved down about two inches. Another line of faint but colorful tattoos ran down beside it. He reached out to touch the marks but quickly pulled back when he felt the smooth, glossy texture of each design. They reminded him of…
“Scales?” he muttered with a disbelieving shake of his head. “What the hell is going on?”
Standing, he quickly deposited the scraps from the bandage into the trash. He returned the first aid kit to the cabinet before he grabbed a thin blanket and covered her with it. He frowned and ran a hand through his hair, trying to think if there was anything else he should do before he returned to the upper deck.
He decided he had done the best he could for the moment. Glancing down one last time to make sure the woman was still unconscious, he turned on his heel and strode back up the stairs. It looked like it was going to be a long night. He grimaced when his stomach growled in protest again. Dinner would have to be pushed back until his unexpected guest was safely delivered into the hands of the proper authorities.
