Mage’s Legacy: Cursed Seas

by hamilton, rebecca

  “The Legacy Stone, Kerana?” He shook his head. “No, no, no, my dear. That offer has expired.”

  “Then I leave,” she said firmly, her body trembling. “You have no way of making me stay. If you did, I never would have escaped the last time.”

  Tua shrugged. “Something like that,” he admitted. “But still, no. I want something more from you. But I can’t offer the Legacy Stone in return.”

  “Then what can you offer?”

  “Gabriel’s life,” Tua said. “If you do as I say, I will let him live. You will not get a better deal from me than that.”

  Tears stung Kerina’s eyes. After all this, she would still be the reason that an entire region would die. That Gabriel’s people would die.

  But at least he could go home. Be with them. Spend whatever days remaining they had left...together.

  Steeling her resolve, she met Tua’s deceptive gaze. “I accept.”

  “But you don’t even know what you have accepted,” Tua said.

  “I know what you want,” Kerina said, a tremble in her voice. “And I will serve you in whatever way you need if you let Gabriel go.”

  “Smart girl.” Tua shook his finger at her. “But you have it backward. First, you serve me. Then—once my seed is in you, and our next child growing in your womb—then, I let the siren go.”

  Her stomach churned. Hearing him say it made it worse. She knew what she would have to endure, but some part of her, deep down, hoped that she could escape once she knew Gabriel was safe. That sexual servitude might not have to be her fate anymore.

  But of course, Tua had known that, too.

  “Rest, Kerana,” Tua said. “You will need your strength for what comes next.”

  Chapter 19

  Gabriel struggled against the tides in an ocean of pain. Waves of anguish washed over him, forcing him down each time he tried to reach the surface. Water burned like fire in his lungs. Riptides tugged around his waist, intensifying the agony of his every breath.

  He was drowning.

  Not just drowning.

  He was dying.

  But he was back, in the ocean, where he belonged. No longer struggling through a dark, musty cave. No longer battling demonic monsters. No longer deceived and lied to.

  Kerina…

  Was she still in the caves? Still battling demon spawn?

  He groaned. He couldn’t leave her. Couldn’t abandon her. His desperate need to save his people was the only reason she had put herself in the way of so much danger.

  So much unnecessary danger. She wasn’t even a mage. She wasn’t anyone special.

  Except… His mind recoiled, but his heart had already embraced the truth. Except to me.

  Skimming on the edge of consciousness, he gritted his teeth. The motion rippled agony and waves of nausea through him. The rush of agony blasted him awake. His fingers clenched around the center of pain in his body and gripped cloth.

  Bewildered, he brought the cloth up to his face. His vision, still hazy, could not make it out, but the scent of night-blooming flowers was greater than even the smell of the blood that stained the cloth.

  Kerina.

  He smelled other things. Herbs. He could not put a name to it, but Kerina had used it many times before on his injuries.

  The memory of his spear, of cold, unyielding metal sinking into his stomach, seemed more nightmare than reality, but the pain confirmed he had not imagined it. He was badly hurt; he knew that much. He would have died if not for Kerina.

  His muscles clenched, his body hunching over in agony as he dragged himself into a sitting position. He stared down at the puckered wound on his stomach. It was no longer bleeding profusely, but it would not take more than a cough or a sneeze to release another fresh surge of blood.

  He squinted to focus his spinning vision. The curved walls of the cave were stained grey with lichen. The metallic smell of blood tainted the air, but he thought he smelled something else. He drew a deep breath. The fresh salt of the sea filled his lungs.

  It was official.

  He had lost his mind. He was hallucinating. He was imagining things that could not possibly be there.

  Like home. A safe haven.

  Gabriel grimaced. Leaning against the wall, he pulled himself upright and pressed the cloth against his stomach wound. If he did not exert himself too much, he might be all right.

  But doing nothing would not find Kerina. Where was she?

  He staggered around the curves in the tunnel. None of it looked familiar—far more narrow than he recalled. It was a safe haven, if there could be such a thing within Tua’s domain. None of Tua’s monstrous children would be able to fit in those tunnels.

  Some part of his mind challenged his insanity, his stupidity. It was safe. It was ridiculous, even foolhardy, to leave when he was so badly injured that he could not see straight and could barely walk without hunching over from the pain and the wrenching strain on his stomach and back.

  They had reached the end of the road.

  He’d realized as much when he’d attacked Tua again and then—instead of reaching for the priceless gem—grabbed Kerina’s hand to flee.

  They would never get the Legacy Stone. They would never save his people, or the oceans.

  They had come all the way to the end. And they had lost.

  He swallowed against the tightness in his throat.

  There was no victory. There was just survival—and even that, just for a little time. But Kerina would be all right.

  She had to be.

  The only thing that mattered now was to get Kerina safely out and return her to her home. It was the last, the only thing, he could still do.

  For her. And for me.

  He stopped at the junction as the cave yawned outward, stretching in several directions. His brow furrowed. None of it looked familiar. Which way had Kerina gone? Had she returned to the boat? She must have, right—

  Kerina? Return to safety? Retreat?

  When had she ever run from trouble and danger? The grimace on his face quirked toward a rueful grin. But if she hadn’t stayed with him, and hadn’t returned to the boat, then…

  Gabriel inhaled sharply, icy shards piercing the length of his spine.

  Tua. She had gone back to Tua.

  No. No way. Not even Kerina was that bold, that crazy.

  But what if she thought it was the only way?

  Tua...he had to get back to Tua’s cave—wherever it was.

  Gabriel staggered down the largest tunnel, but it narrowed rapidly into a tiny opening. He squeezed through it, scraping skin in the process, and found himself on the other side of an ingeniously concealed stone doorway. Vast grasslands bloomed beneath a cave roof so high it was lost in darkness. Patches of palm trees scattered across the landscape

  He frowned, his fragmented thoughts churning through hazy memories. He stepped away from the stone doorway and took several steps across the grasslands, which felt soft and springy beneath his bare feet. He knew this place. He had been here before. Why couldn’t he think? Why couldn’t he remember?

  The pain rippling across his stomach, spreading across his chest and back, kept his thoughts spinning, breaking apart before they could fully come together. If this place seemed familiar, surely it would lead him back to Tua, right?

  “Ao ao ao!”

  The sound froze the breath in his lungs. Slowly, he turned to face the source of that hollow, hateful cry. A creature, larger than an orca, stepped between him and the safety of the secret stone door. Its thick white wool made it look like a sheep, with ridged, curved horns and a blood-stained muzzle.

  Memory returned, too sharp, too late.

  Ao Ao…

  The last time Gabriel and Kerina had passed through this place, she had drugged Ao Ao, and the monstrous, carnivorous sheep had stumbled and dropped unconscious mid-charge.

  The intoxicating effects of the drugs had obviously faded.

  Unfortunately, it appeared that Ao Ao’s memory had not.
>
  Gabriel backed away.

  Ao Ao stepped forward. Its breath huffed from its nostrils in small puffs of smoke. It lowered its head, the ridge of its horns glinting in the dim light of the cave.

  Twice as unfortunate, it seemed that Ao Ao bore a grudge…

  Gabriel spun around and ran. His feet thudded against the ground, which shook beneath Ao Ao’s thunderous charge. Adrenaline pushed the pain aside, if only for a few moments. Panic pumped speed through his exhausted body. He spared a glance over his shoulder. Ao Ao was no closer than it had been when the chase began, even though it was clear that the monster could have easily, effortlessly closed the distance.

  Like its demonic father, Ao Ao took pleasure not in the necessity of the kill, but of the hunt, feeding off the terror of its victims in their final moments of life, inhaling the hope that deflated from their bodies with the countdown of their last breaths.

  Shafts of pain shot through Gabriel’s body. The cloth he pressed to his stomach turned wet beneath his hands, the crimson spot spreading unchecked. The vast plains taunted him, promising escape if only he could run fast enough. If only he could run forever.

  If he could loop around—if he could make it back to that stone door…

  Surely Ao Ao would not be able to pass through it.

  He twisted into a sharp turn. Behind him, Ao Ao skidded into a tumble, its four hooves tangling. With an angry “Ao ao ao,” the monster staggered to its feet, shook out its blood-stained fur, and plunged back into the chase.

  The stone door was impossibly far away. The cloth covering his wound was soaked through with blood, and his vision swayed. Palm trees split into two trunks, then three. The grass undulated like green waves, then the color washed away into faded ochre, before deepening to black-tinged yellow. He knew the symptoms of blood loss. Knew he was dying. His legs shook, trembling, as his pace faltered.

  The door was close now, almost close enough to—

  Shadows loomed over the grasslands, turning his dark-tinged vision an even deeper black. He jerked to a halt. His gaze fixed on the scaled lizard’s feet and the long, ungainly body with its crocodile-like tail, before traveling up its body—to the seven heads of a dog, its fourteen eyes blazing red and orange with barely suppressed hell’s fire.

  Panic squeezed out the air in Gabriel’s lungs. The monster that blocked his way to the stone door was the first of Tua’s children—Gabriel could not even recall its name—the one that Kerina had befriended with sweet, fermented dates.

  Its fourteen eyes fixed on Gabriel. Seven mouths curled into the first breath of a vicious snarl. The banked embers in its eyes flared.

  Gabriel flung his arms over his head and braced for death.

  Flames roared so close to him, his skin singed from the brush to fire.

  Ao Ao wailed—a scream of terror and agony.

  Gabriel spun around to see its white wool ablaze. Flames, in garish red, orange, and yellow, spread across the monster’s body. It twisted around and stumbled across the grasslands. Embers spilled from its wool, setting the grass ablaze. Fire spread across the plains, the sudden heat purging the cool of the darkness.

  Something nudged him from the back and sent him stumbling forward. He landed on his hands and knees and clambered around to see the seven-headed dog-lizard staring at him. Its many eyes still blazed, but its expression was oddly gentle, as if it recognized Gabriel.

  The dog-lizard stepped aside, permitting access to the stone door. With a nod of gratitude, Gabriel staggered past the monster—the monster that, won over by Kerina’s kindness, had saved his life. Smoke clogged his lungs, and he coughed, hacking out soot and blood, as he slumped against the cool walls of the tunnel. Flames blazed on the other side of the stone.

  Despair was a leaden weight in his chest. If the way to Tua led through those grasslands, how was he supposed to find Kerina now?

  Chapter 20

  Inside Tua’s cave, Kerina’s hands trembled as she turned the raw meat on the spit over the open fire. It didn’t look like chicken, beef, pork, goat, or lamb, and she tried not to think too hard about what else it could be. She had liberally sprinkled herbs over it. Green slivers over the bloody hunk of meat slowly turned black beneath the searing flames.

  “Ah, Kerana.” Tua appreciatively sniffed the air. “You have not lost your touch.”

  His hot breath brushed against the back of her neck. It stank, not with the foulness of an unwashed mouth, but something else that she could only describe as sulfurous. She drew an unsteady breath, her lungs clenching against the effort.

  Tua folded his fingers over her shoulders, one at a time, with slow deliberation, as if he sensed her agony and wanted to wring every last ounce of it out of her. Her skin tightened, as if trying to escape from the loathsome touch she could not avoid. Only willpower kept her from screaming, from fleeing.

  Willpower, and realizing that Gabriel was counting on her to keep him alive. She could not—would not—fail him.

  Kerina bit her lips together and squeezed her eyes shut. She tried to imagine it was Gabriel’s hands instead. Focused on the memories of Gabriel’s rare flashing smile, as if he hadn’t practiced enough but his innate good humor was too strong to be concealed. She kept her thoughts on the often quizzical look in his eyes, as if he didn’t understand her, but was determined to stay around until he did.

  The quizzical look that flared into anger when she did something he considered too dangerous.

  That softened into gentleness when he thought she wasn’t looking at him.

  If she hadn’t known better, she might have thought it was love.

  But it couldn’t have been. After all, it would be the most ridiculous thing ever for a siren and a human to fall in love. She had pointed that out to herself on countless occasions. And Gabriel—he wasn’t stupid—surely he would have figured that out too.

  She shuddered as Tua’s breath dipped below the base of her neck to tickle her collarbone. His fingers caressed the length of her arms. Could he tell how much she was shaking? She opened her eyes returned her gaze on the chunk of meat on the spit, and for a crazy, irrational moment, wished she could change places.

  Anything except endure that clinging, possessive touch.

  Tua’s fingers tugged at the laces that held the sides of her dress together. Both sides loosened until the front and back of the cloth were attached to each other only by the ties on her shoulders. The cool air of the cave brushed against her buttocks, against her breasts. Her skin puckered and her nipples tightened.

  The demon laughed low in his throat. “Could it be that you still desire me, Kerana, after all this time?”

  His hands brushed under her breasts. Kerina swallowed the silent sob. Her stomach heaved from the violation and she squeezed her eyes shut once more.

  In her head, she knew that what awaited her was far worse than Tua’s glancing touch. How could she endure it—not once, but countless times?

  In the darkness behind her closed eyelids, she saw Gabriel’s face. The solemn, almost stern, expression that told her he was thinking of the ocean and of his people. The compelling mixture of wistfulness in his voice and bleakness in his eyes when he spoke of his home.

  She could make that wistfulness and bleakness go away. She could make sure he got safely home.

  All it demanded from her was a price.

  And there was no price she would not have paid for Gabriel. For the siren who had—even if only for a while, for too short a time—allowed her to feel safe and protected.

  Loved. Cherished.

  She fixed Gabriel’s face in her mind. Her hands were no longer trembling as Tua’s fingers plucked at the laces on her shoulders and the two pieces of cloth fell away, baring her body. His hands closed around her hips and guided her away from the spit.

  It was not pride that held up her head and opened her eyes, but courage. She stood still as Tua circled her, his gaze roving over her body, before focusing on the most intimate parts of her. His eyes gl
eamed.

  His grip tightened on her upper arm and he yanked her forward. “You will be mine again, Kerana, in the only way that matters.”

  “Wait!” She held up the spit of meat, now perfectly browned. The herbs she had sprinkled had darkened to black and the aroma filled the space between her and Tua. “Your dinner is ready.”

  His eyes narrowed. “It can wait.”

  “The meat is perfect now. It will grow cold if you don’t eat it, and if I reheat it, it will overcook. Here...” She tried to pull away from him, but his grip was so tight that she knew she could not leave unless he released her. “I’ll serve you.”

  Tua stared at her, as if trying to unravel the reasons for her sudden docility.

  Kerina tried to keep her breath steady in spite of her racing heartbeat. She swallowed through the tightness in her throat.

  It seemed as if too many minutes went by before the suspicion in Tua’s face passed. His grip loosened, and he sprawled down in a corner amid the heap of cushions she hadn’t noticed before.

  “Serve me,” he growled.

  Kerina bent to pick up her discarded dress, but Tua chuckled, low in his throat. “You will not conceal yourself from me.”

  Blinking back the sting of shameful tears, Kerina brought the spit of meat over to him.

  “Kneel here,” he ordered, pointing to a spot right next to him.

  Her head lowered, Kerina dropped to her knees.

  “Legs apart, and fingers laced behind your head!” Tua roared. “You will not conceal yourself!”

  Kerina’s body locked up. She did not know if it was from humiliation, fear, or anger—or some wretched, potent combination of all three. Unmoving, she stared wordlessly at the demon.

  Tua’s tone softened, but his gaze did not. He gestured with the dinner she had prepared. “Or will your precious siren’s body be the next thing on this spit?”