by Anne B. Cole
Everything so far had been unbelievingly amazing. After a shaky start with several ghost appearances on their way to Athens, their vacation had fulfilled her every dream. Three days of sightseeing in Athens had been followed by three days of relaxation in Milos. On day seven they ferried to Mykonos to this picture perfect, villa suite on Agio Ionnis Beach.
“Our itinerary arrived,” Sam announced from inside.
Excited, she spun into the room, tripped over her full-length robe, and tumbled to the floor.
“Gretta?” Sam reached her in two quick strides before crouching to her level. “Are you hurt?”
“Just my pride. I spilled my tea,” she grumbled and raised an empty mug.
“You sure?” Sam began loosening her robe to check for injuries.
“I’m sure.” She pushed herself to her feet and cinched the robe belt. “All right, let me see it.”
“See what?” He cupped her chin in one hand with a hungry grin.
“The itinerary.” She reached her arms around him to the paper he held behind his back.
“Mmm, you smell like blueberries.” He pulled her into a one-armed hug, keeping the paper out of reach.
“Blackberries. It’s the tea I spilled.” She pulled out of his hold and snatched the envelope from him.
“You have the itinerary, but I have you.” He picked her up and carried her to the bed. “Don’t want to chance you falling again.” He propped her against a multitude of pillows, crawled in beside her, and tossed the covers over their legs. “What day are we on?”
Ripping open the envelope, she read the first line. “Day Nine.”
“Nine? Really? It only feels like four or five.” He leaned closer to scan the paper.
“It’s our third day in Mykonos. Maybe you ought to scale back on the ouzo tonight?” She raised a brow, remembering last night’s clubbing tour in Chora.
“I remember what we did when we returned.” His finger traced her cheek, sending tingles through her body.
“Day Nine,” she repeated and removed his hand so she could concentrate. “After a poolside breakfast, you will take an hour long stroll on the beach.”
“Elias Beach?” He peered over her shoulder.
“Nope, right here on Agio Ioannis.” She grinned. “You want to go back to Elias? The high temperature will be about seventy-three degrees today. A little chilly for an exclusive nudist beach. I doubt there’ll be many sunbathers.”
“The only person I want to see naked is you. Soaking in the tub would be nice and warm,” he growled.
“Back to the itinerary.”
“We could skip the bath and stay in bed all day.” He placed his chin on her shoulder.
The idea appealed to her, but something from deep within nagged her to stick to the schedule. “Mykonos is such a beautiful island, I don’t want to miss a thing. We only have two more days before we return to Athens.”
Sam nodded and removed her ponytail holder, spilling her hair over her shoulders. His fingers gently combed through the curly tangles as she continued to read.
“A private catamaran will take you to Delos for a tour of the ancient ruins. Departure time, noon.” She bit her bottom lip.
“Sounds interesting. What’s next?” His fingers caught into a hair knot so he used both hands to gently pull it free.
Gretta continued to stare at the paper.
“I thought you wanted to visit Delos before we left.” By the tone of his voice, she could tell he had picked up on her concern.
“I do want to go to Delos. The strange part is what’s next on the schedule.”
Sam removed the paper from her hands. He read through and flipped it over. “What’s strange? There’s nothing else on the page.”
Her eyes moved from the paper to her husband and back.
“Exactly. No return time. No additional activities listed.”
He scrutinized the paper and shrugged. “Maybe we have free time built into the schedule. Who makes these out every day? The villa?”
“No. I asked the concierge yesterday so I could tip whoever slides them under our door every morning. He had no idea what I was talking about. When I showed him yesterday’s itinerary he stated he had never seen anything like it before.” She instinctively inched closer to his side.
“Maybe it’s the travel agency. Did the couple who gave you the tickets mention the itineraries?” He read the paper a third time.
“No, they had a sudden death in their family and only said the trip was non-refundable. They overheard we were newlyweds and offered it to me.” An uneasy feeling waved through her body. The childhood warning of taking candy from a stranger hadn’t entered her mind until now.
He took a deep breath. “It could be nothing, but I’d rather stay at the villa today, just in case.”
Her head began to shake in opposition.
“You still want to go to Delos, don’t you?”
She confirmed with a slow nod.
After several minutes, Sam broke the silence. “I have a strong urge to follow the schedule, too.” He stood and offered his hand with a sly grin. “Come on. We’re showering together.”
Gretta gripped his fingers and stared at the door. A white envelope slid under the crack.
Chapter 8
Noon
Sam
“Think of anything?” Gretta’s courageous voice sounded.
Sam watched her lean against the railing of the wooden dock and finger the words ‘trust’ and ‘forgiveness’ in the letter they received under their door.
“Could it be from Roxana or Katarina?” she mused.
“I don’t know,” he replied. Scanning the sea, he searched for the catamaran which would take them on the excursion to Delos. Not one boat or ship sailed in the green-blue waters. He glanced at his watch. “We’re ten minutes early for our noon departure.”
“Sam, what do you think this means?”
“I’m not sure what to make of the information. I’ve written all of the advice from the spirits we encountered and noted their gifts.” He showed her his latest handwritten notes scribbled on the back of the letter in her hands. “Whoever sent this appears to be trying to warn us about the future. Katarina is a possibility.” He rubbed the page with his thumb.
“Read it to me again. We must be missing something.” She encircled an arm around his waist and leaned her cheek on his shoulder.
“Okay. Here goes. ‘Sacrifice of two, the curse will be broken. Escape from Tartarus through trust and forgiveness spoken. Challenged by the gods, victory cannot be your goal. A truce must be made to save her soul.’” He watched Gretta’s frown deepen.
“A sacrifice. Escape from Tartarus. A fight with the gods. A truce to save a woman’s soul. Sounds like one of Minnie’s prophecies.” She shivered despite the warm sun.
He kissed the top of her head and held her close. Fear of losing her coursed through him. He remembered when they visited Purgatory-In-Tartarus and met Minnie, her great-great-great- grandmother’s spirit, during their time traveling adventures. They had become separated and Gretta had witnessed a soul claimed by evil. Needing to get her mind off the experience, he tapped the letter.
“We’ve determined there has to be a sacrifice to end the curse.” Sam shook his head. “The rest is cryptic at best.”
“The sacrifice is us.” Her words echoed with strength, ready to step on the battlefield.
“Nothing is for certain. I’m not going to argue anymore.” He winked at her, remembering their quarrel during their walk on the beach an hour earlier.
Her shoulders rose and fell with a sigh. “I agree,” she replied. He saw her peek at Theo’s watch. “Fighting now gives us no time for make-up sex.”
He growled in her ear and couldn’t resis
t the urge to kiss her neck.
“Focus, Mr. Daggett.”
His sight fell past the letter to her short shorts, revealing toned and tanned legs he wanted to entangle with. An elbow to his chest returned his gaze to his notes. “Both Mom and Theo relayed a theme of trust and forgiveness. Your father and the note we received today tell us we cannot be victorious and must accept defeat.”
“I don’t want you to accept defeat to protect me. I can do this on my own.”
“Your father told me to never leave you. He also said, ‘Two souls shall become one.’” Looking from the paper to her, an idea clicked into place. “If I’m defeated, my soul will reside within you. I’ll be with you always, no matter what happens.”
He watched her lips open to protest, then quiver. Kissing them became the only option. She responded in earnest.
A palm pressed on his chest and she broke the kiss. Blue jean eyes captured his. “No matter what happens, I’ll always love you.”
“Me too.” He kissed her forehead and folded the paper, sealing off thoughts of danger and defeat. He slid it into the back pocket of his shorts.
A shiny, high-speed catamaran zipped into view. White with navy blue trim, it circled, and slowed prior to its approach to the dock.
“Here’s our ride.” His heart began pounding when a ringtone sounded in his head. Danger. There were no passengers aboard and a one-man crew. The driver waved and tossed a rope over the docking pole. After Gretta exchanged greetings, he offered his hand and helped her aboard.
Sam watched all this happen as if in a hazy stupor.
Snap out of it and get on board.
He grabbed the rope, released it from the dock, and handed it to the driver. He listened as Gretta discussed the destination with the driver. When they took their seats, he possessively took her hand. His grip tightened even though the ringing in his ears faded.
“Delos,” the driver announced. He revved the boat’s engine and zipped away from the dock.
Within seconds, the boat picked up speed and skimmed over the water’s surface. Gretta flashed him a smile of happiness without a trace of fear.
“This is like a speed boat on skis,” she yelled over the engine’s roar.
He watched curly blonde locks fall loose from her ponytail while salty wind whipped their faces. She pulled the elastic from her hair and ran her fingers through. Mykonos grew smaller behind them.
“This is great,” Gretta cried, enjoying the ride.
“How long until we reach Delos?” Sam hollered.
“Don’t know. It’s only a couple miles away and at this speed we should arrive within minutes.” She faced the direction of the uninhabited sacred island. “I wonder if we’ll have a private tour.”
“Probably. This trip has been first class from the start.” He had savored every minute of their vacation, until this morning. With Gretta appearing to be enjoying herself, he didn’t want his apprehension to dampen the mood.
“Look, information about Delos.” She held laminated index cards with pictures and typed descriptions. “I found them in the pocket behind the seat. They’re written in English.”
He wrapped an arm around her and she began reading.
“The sacred island of Delos is believed to have been inhabited as early as the year 3,000 BC.” She flipped to the next card. “In Greek Mythology, Delos is the birthplace of the twin gods Artemis and Apollo, the offspring of Zeus and Leto. When Hera, Zeus’ wife, heard about Leto’s pregnancy, she banished her from Earth. The god Poseidon took pity on Leto and provided Delos for her to give birth.”
“Zeus is known for his powerful lightning bolt and reputation of being a ladies’ man.” Sam chuckled. “How many kids did he have?”
“I don’t know. A whole bunch by several different women. It’s listed on a card in the pile.” The cards were attached together by a large silver ring and she began searching for the one labeled Zeus.
Sam could no longer hold back, and nibbled her neck.
“Stop distracting me. I’m interested in learning about Delos.” She half-heartedly eased away from him.
“I’m more interested in—”
“Getting back to Delos.” She flipped several cards illustrated with statues of naked gods and goddesses. He loved the way her cheeks pinked in embarrassment. “Here we go. ‘At one point in ancient history, the island was declared sacred and no one was allowed to be born or die there. People nearing those conditions were whisked away to the nearby island, Rineia.’”
She skipped over several more cards. “Here’s another interesting fact. ‘In 88 BC the entire population of Delos, over twenty thousand, was killed or sold into slavery by King Mithridates. Delos never recovered and by the second century AD it became uninhabited except for temple guards and looting pirates.’” She flipped to the last card in the pack. “‘Formal excavation work began in 1872 by the French and continues today. Delos remains uninhabited except for site guards and French archaeologists.’”
“No hotel rooms?” He raised a single brow.
“Nope. Only one restaurant, but it may be closed since it’s mid-October and the tourist season is nearly over.” She closed the stack of cards and replaced them on the shelf.
When he took her hand, her garnet ring caught the sunlight. He stared at it and thought about the French archaeologists on Delos. They had probably unearthed and collected numerous pieces of jewelry. He wondered if any of them were cursed because they found and took ‘treasure.’
“Sam, I don’t think we’re moving.”
A tremor in her voice snapped him to attention. “Of course we’re moving.” He felt the vibration of the engine and the wind against his face. Delos loomed over a mile ahead in the distance. Behind them, Mykonos appeared the same distance away. “We’ve reached the halfway point.”
“How long have we been at sea?”
Her question seemed ridiculous, yet he looked at Theo’s watch. “We left at noon and it’s noon?” Sam’s heart sped. Gretta had been reading facts on Delos for the past ten minutes and at the boat’s speed, their two-mile trip should have been completed in less than five minutes. The clutch on his hand tightened.
“Sam, the driver is gone.”
He raced to the wheel while she leaned over the starboard rail in search of the driver.
A bolt of lightning flashed. The air and sea grew silent. An eerie stillness surrounded them as Sam attempted to restart the engine. He turned the key. Not a single click or sputter sounded.
“Look out!”
Her shout spun him around to a colossal wave crashing against the boat. The force tossed the catamaran into the air. In horror, Sam watched Gretta’s struggle as she clung to the rail, her body dangling from the deck. One of her hands slipped as he slid toward her. He managed to grasp her wrist, leaning in an attempt to right the tilted boat.
Another crack of lightning split the skies, momentarily blinding his sight of her. Thunder boomed and a deluge of water crashed over him, ripping his hand from hers before righting the catamaran.
Gone.
Stillness replaced the chaos.
“Gretta?” He scanned the tranquil water.
Nothing.
Sam dove overboard. He surfaced and searched the endless blue-green sea. The winds picked up, surging waves over his head. Shaking water from his eyes, he spotted her struggling several yards away.
A second deluge of waves pushed him closer to her. Beneath the water, he opened his eyes and saw her lifeless body drifting inches out of reach. He screamed her name, taking salty water into his lungs, but she fell farther from his fingertips. He swam into the dark depths until sunlight no longer penetrated the water. Waving his arms in a visionless search, he came up empty-handed.
Gone.
He had failed to p
rotect her. In desperate need of oxygen, pain sliced his lungs. The anguish of losing Gretta throbbed through his chest and superseded his will to live.
Blowing out his remaining air, Sam gulped the seawater in hopes of joining her in death.
Chapter 9
Across the Void
Sam
Dark nothingness surrounded Sam.
“Snap out of it, boy,” a familiar raspy voice sounded in his head.
“Katarina?” He scanned his surroundings for his long dead ancestor. “Where are we?”
He heard her exasperated sigh, but could not find the old spirit he met time traveling last summer. The surroundings lightened to where he could see he remained under water.
Sam took a deep breath. Air, not water, filled his lungs. Or was it air? It couldn’t be. I don’t need to breathe if I’m dead.
“I don’t have time for this. Move.”
Feeling a strong pull on his bicep, he allowed his seventh-great-grandmother’s spirit to guide him to the surface. When they broke the water’s plane, he saw the shadows of an island, not twenty feet away, and lowered his feet to stand. “I have to go back and find Gretta. She’s—”
“On shore,” Katarina replied and gestured beyond him.
Stumbling through waist high water, he rushed to his wife’s side. “I’m sorry. I tried to reach you.” He clung to her, knowing she was cursed by her ring and destined for Purgatory-In-Tartarus. If they were dead, his spirit would be unable to follow her.
“What’s happening? Is time standing still, like when the tree fell on us last summer?” A wave of fear crossed her face and she pounded on his chest.
On the third and most forceful blow, he gripped her fingers.
