When the Sea Burned

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When the Sea Burned Page 2

by Autumn Dawn


  “Party’s over, settle down,” he said sternly, grunting when she bit him. “Little sea nettle! Stop or I’ll spank you.”

  She went rigid as she recognized his voice. “You!” It was the man from last night, though he didn’t look the same. His dark blue hair was military short, barely long enough wave in the current, and his body flickered with light. His skin refracted light like sunlit brook, but his arms were solid as granite. “Have you come back to finish me off?”

  “Don’t be stupid,” he retorted. He held her wrists as he gave her a cursory glance. “You seem intact.”

  “Intact? They were going to rape me and post it on the Internet!” she shouted. “I was killing them and you ruined it!”

  His lips quirked. He was laughing at her! She kicked him in the shin with her remaining shoe. “Bastard!”

  “Sorry, it was the way you said it,” he apologized. “Besides, why do you think I’m here? I was rescuing you.”

  She was unimpressed. “Yeah, good job. I beat you to it.”

  He shifted his grip. “Come on. You can’t stay here.”

  She balked. “I’m not going anywhere with you, you monster! You tried to kill me.”

  “I was restraining you.”

  “Not now, before.” Her accusation was interrupted by the arrival of a pod of seals. They surveyed her cautiously, unsure if she was a threat.

  “Right. Time to leave.” He towed her along, ignoring her protests and struggles until she sank her nails in his forearm, leaving bloody gouges.

  He stopped and pinned her with a serial killer stare. “I’m stronger, meaner and perfectly willing to truss you up and haul you along by your hair. Behave.”

  “I don’t like being dragged,” she said coldly, unable to articulate her fears. She believed he would do all of that and more.

  He released her and gestured grandly for her swim on her own. “Keep up, princess.”

  She grit her teeth and did.

  They didn’t swim so much as create their own current; or rather, the stranger created it and Alicia surfed, struggling to keep up as the ocean passed in a blur. It felt like traveling through a watery pneumonic tube, sucked to an unknown destination.

  She was exhausted when they reached his stronghold, a castle nestled in a deep trench of basalt resembling the Giant’s Causeway. The current slowed as it sucked them through the front gates and bubbled through a giant, lotus shaped stone pool, rising through one of the watery petals to deposit them gently on a stone walkway.

  Alicia’s legs folded and she simply sat, taking in the place. It looked like it had recently been submerged, the walls showing remnants of barnacles, and it smelled strongly of rotting seaweed. A black throne encrusted with pearls sat on a raised dais, overlooking the throne room, and the walls were heavily carved with pitted statues, many of them plastered with starfish.

  The stranger picked her up and strode down a hallway that showed more neglect the farther they went. Her eyes kept closing, but she spotted bits of coral, seaweed and more barnacles. The light came from balls of glowing lights in green, blue and pink that sprouted from the walls in regular intervals.

  She found the energy to stir as he entered a stone chamber smelling of low tide and knelt to deposit her in a round pool. “No more water,” she protested as he set her on the rim.

  “You’re faint and need to rest,” he said firmly. “Go to sleep.”

  She tried to argue, but fell asleep before she could say a word.

  Surged sighed in relief as he released the girl. She was safe and no one he liked was dead. He looked around. The cleaners would be in to deal with the mess, but it was roomy and private. She’d probably sleep for a while, and the pool should rejuvenate her.

  He strode away, eager to escape. She was a disaster in waiting, and he was glad he’d had the foresight the drain the palace. He’d send someone to check on her, but he would prefer to have nothing to do with her. He’d done his part by saving her, and he refused to give the Fates the satisfaction of watching him hover over her. Matchmaking harpies.

  He left the old palace via a tunnel and emerged in his nephew’s private lounge. Nodding to the bodyguard, he stopped to watch the boy blow up an alien gunship. The kid was addicted to the Xbox, and he’d been helpful in instructing Surge in new technology. “Is that the newest Halo?”

  “Yep. Just got it.” Jace turned and surveyed him. “What’s wrong? Is it about that power surge I felt earlier?”

  Surge joined him on the couch. “The Fates sent me a woman. That was her.”

  Jace winced. Young enough to still enjoy childhood, he wasn’t into girls yet. “She’s wicked strong.”

  “I can handle her.”

  “Oh. You’re keeping her, then?” Jace unpaused his game, losing interest.

  “I don’t know what I’ll do with her. Do me a favor and stay away from her until I decide, kid. She’s got no control, and she nearly wiped out the coast.”

  “Cool.” Jace sensed his hard gaze and met it with a gulp. “Ah, sure. Anything you say, uncle.”

  Surge grunted. If only the girl were as malleable. He had a feeling she would be trouble.

  Something stirred in the pool, swimming through her fingers. Instinct jerked her awake and she leapt out, scrambling away in terror. She crouched on the stone floor, staring in horror at the pair of black and white snakes that cruised the water.

  God help her, that was close! She might have died. She shuddered and silently cursed the monster that brought her here. The pool only had a foot of water left, and she assumed she’d absorbed the poop-laced brine in her sleep. Disgusted, she rubbed her arms as she looked for an exit.

  A huge, domed skylight illuminated the oversize room, easily as large as a small house. Since they were underwater, she wasn’t sure if the light only simulated the sky, but it made it easier to see. The floor was sandy, full of little crabs that skittered through the scattered debris. She squeaked and jumped up, looking for the exit. There had to be a better place to hang out than this.

  Her shoes were gone and her clothes hung in soaked tatters, but at least she wasn’t cold. Picking her way across the floor, she poked her head into the hall and found it as empty and desolate as her room.

  Could she find the throne room? It was the only exit she knew. Alicia had no idea where she was, but escape was a priority. She couldn’t stay in this nasty swamp another day.

  The palace was huge and she got lost. She had a horrible sense of direction and she’d been too exhausted to take notes when the stranger dumped her here. Everywhere she looked there was evidence of a massive draining. Crud choked the halls and there were dead creatures everywhere, stinking up the place.

  The place was crawling with crabs. Thankfully, they seemed intent on consuming dead fish and dragging debris away. They made her skin crawl; especially the giant king crabs.

  For a submerged palace, there was surprisingly little water. The fountains didn’t work, and pools were empty.

  She was thirsty. Her skin felt dry, and as the minutes dragged by, it shriveled. Shuddering with horror, she took less care where she stepped, searching desperately for the throne room and water. Her throat blazed, and it was with relief she stumbled on her room. She tripped in her haste and crawled to the pool, relieved to find the snakes gone. Slithering down the algae crusted side, she curled up in the brackish water with a sob of relief. Her thirsty body absorbed the water like a sponge, soothing the awful thirst…but it wasn’t enough. When the last drops were gone, she still thirsted, and she couldn’t find a mechanism to refill the pool.

  Alicia groaned. She would have to find the throne room, or this thirst would kill her. She dragged herself from the pool and left, trying the opposite direction this time. She tried to be careful, but shells cut her feet. After the first look, she didn’t dare inspect them again; she bled water. The horror of it made her want to curl into a ball and die, but the thirst drove her. The need dragged her on and on, even when her body withered and turn
ed gray, creaking with each step.

  At last, she found the throne room. Too parched to cry out, she made a desperate sound and stumbled to the water, ready to throw her body in…and saw a fin.

  Alicia gasped as she counted fins. There were several sharks in there, big ones. She didn’t dare go in, but she had to do something.

  She nearly fell in when she knelt, she was so weak. Cautiously, she dipped her fingers in the water and moaned with relief as water slowly poured into her.

  She didn’t notice the pale green woman who looked in on her, then left.

  “She’s drinking in the throne room,” the woman told Surge.

  Surge nodded. “Keep an eye on her. Make sure she doesn’t bolt.” The woman was alive and apparently doing fine. He’d doubled the guard to keep her safe, given her a place to sleep and she seemed to have figured out how to feed. He didn’t want to deal with her now. He had other things on his mind, like tracking Olan and settling the clan rebellion. 800 years of incarceration had caused a power vacuum that was destroying the sea, and he had to work hard to restore peace. Lives depended on it.

  There were more important things to do than deal with an unwanted bride. She might be bored, but she’d be fine for a day or two until he figured out what to do about her.

  Alicia lay there a long time, until the sharks got nosy. She felt too exposed, as if another horror could rise from the sea at any moment. Since she wasn’t going into the water with the sharks, escape was out for the day.

  Her clothes were rank and stiff with salt, chaffing as she made her dispirited way back to her tomb of a room. Even growing up as trailer trash, she’d never been this filthy. She and her mom might have lived in a camper on her grandma’s land, but it had been spotless and well maintained. The economy had tanked, but they still had pride.

  Sure, they had to deal with her aunt’s digs, but it was easier to shake off than her current depression. At least back home, Alicia could argue that her aunt lived with her grandma in grandma’s ramshackle house with six kids and a deadbeat husband; there was no one to sneer at here, no one to fight. She couldn’t insult the housekeeping of an absent kidnapper.

  She’d look for a way out later, but she was tired now. It felt as if she’d wandered for hours and she needed a safe place to sleep. Cleaner, anyway. Grabbing a discarded scallop shell, she shoveled and scraped away debris. At least it would give the crabs less reason to investigate her room and protect her feet.

  She was exhausted and thirsty when she finished hours later. She put her back against the wall and considered the patch of cleared floor. Scallop shells and sea sponges weren’t ideal cleaning tools, and she’d kill for soap, but at least the slime was gone. Her hands were chaffed and scraped and her feet stung, but the work kept hysteria at bay. She didn’t want to think of what she’d become, couldn’t bear to dwell on what she’d lost.

  Right now, work was the only thing she had.

  Something crawled in her tangled hair, waking her. Alicia screamed and beat at it, but the crab clung tenaciously until she ripped it off. Clutching strands in its claws, it scuttled away, chittering indignantly.

  Alicia franticly looked at the cleaning crabs that had swarmed the room as she slept and placed a hand on her stuttering heart. The hand was dry and withered, and the thirst was back with flamethrowers. She needed water.

  The crabs moved aside as she creaked out the door, hobbling like an arthritic old woman. It was such a long way and in her current condition the going was rough. She felt like a sponge on a hot sidewalk, rapidly losing moisture.

  The stranger found her on her knees near the throne room, doggedly putting one hand in front of the other.

  “What the… What’s going on?” He demanded, kneeling to look at her. He seemed horrified. “Why didn’t anyone report this?” He looked around as if he expected to see attendants.

  Alicia’s mouth was so dry she could hardly form words. “Move,” she croaked, her cracked lips too stiff to properly pronounce the word.

  He picked her up with a curse and strode to the water, walking right in, heedless of the sharks.

  Alicia tried to scream a warning, but the instant she hit the water she convulsed. The sea rushed to fill her, cradling her poor body, soothing the hideous thirst and awful, dry pain. Her body plumped and filled and her broken hair became supple, though it remained frayed and short. Her nails were ragged, too.

  She gasped and shuddered until she realized she was breathing water in a shark filled pool. She lunged for the rim.

  The stranger prevented her, gently keeping her in the pool, if not under water. “Easy. You’re not done yet.”

  “Let me go! Sharks!” she shouted, hitting him.

  “They won’t hurt you. See? They’re over there. They’re my guards.”

  “Killers!” She thrashed until he released her, scrambling out of the water to huddle on the walkway over the pool.

  His gaze dropped to her feet and his jaw worked. “You’re bleeding.”

  “Yes, and you put me in a pool with sharks!”

  He shot her incredulous glance and got out to inspect her feet.

  She wrestled for control of her foot. “Don’t touch me, murderer! I don’t want your hands on me.” She was near tears with fear and pain. Even her odious cousins had rarely reduced her to that. Even when they’d pelted her with manure and rotten vegetables, trying to chase her off “their” land, she hadn’t cried.

  Obviously, this jerk was special.

  “I’m trying to help you,” he insisted, grunting when her heel connected with his chin.

  “Liar! You turned me into a monster. You drowned me and…” It was too much. She burst into tears, curling into a ball of shock and pain.

  He squatted, regarding her solemnly. Why couldn’t he leave her alone?

  “My name is Surge,” he said slowly. “My title is Water. I brought you here for your protection.”

  She turned her face away.

  “I never tried to kill you.”

  That got her attention. “Liar! You were there the night they drowned me. I felt you in the water. You wanted them to kill me.”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with it. I warned you that the sea was dangerous, and you went in anyway,” he growled, thinking of their second encounter. The first nebulous contact barely counted.

  “They said your name before they tossed me in. They said to kick you.” Her eyes narrowed and she looked at him speculatively.

  He gave her a warning look. “I believe you got a few good ones in.”

  She snarled and looked away, trembling. “I hate the air you breathe.”

  “Fine. I’m still going to heal your feet. You can struggle if it makes you feel better.” He took her foot, ignoring her token jerk, and did something that felt incredibly soothing and warm.

  She shuddered with relief, appalled that she felt the need to cry again. She couldn’t be weak in front of him.

  “Why are you so thirsty? You knew where the throne room was.” He had a few questions for the girl who’d been assigned to watch her. He detested incompetence, and laziness of this magnitude enraged him. It had been a long time since he’d had a staff, but he hadn’t realized how inefficient the palace servants were. He would peel a stripe off the butler, and this would never happen again.

  Even if they thought he hated her, they had no excuse for other than stellar care of a guest. He would make that crystal clear, after he saw her properly cared for. Much as he hated to admit it, her condition was ultimately his fault.

  “I got lost yesterday and found it by accident. I wandered for hours and didn’t find any water, and I can’t figure out how to fill the pool in my room. I slept too long, and a c-crab crawled in my hair and woke me up.” Her teeth were chattering, so she clenched them.

  “I’m sorry,” he said gruffly, healing the other foot. “I didn’t know you were in pain. I apologize.” He was silent a moment. “What happened to your feet?”

  “Shells,” she
managed, fighting to the keep the word even and not stutter. It must be shock. Too many shocks, actually. Her body couldn’t process it fast enough.

  He set her foot down and tried to examine her hands, chiding her when she tried to yank them away. “What have you been doing? Your hands are scraped and bleeding, too.”

  “Cleaning the dump you left me in. It stinks and it’s crawling with trash and crabs.” She didn’t want him to touch her, but he was like an octopus, all tentacles.

  “The crabs are there to clean for you.”

  “Tell that to the one who tried to eat me this morning,” Alicia retorted.

  “Did you ask it what it wanted?”

  She stared at him as if he were mad. “Crabs don’t talk.”

  He sighed. “I need to see your room.” He picked her up again, but she struggled so fiercely he finally set her down. “Fine! I was only trying to protect your feet. We’ll do this another way.” He stared at the floor as they walked, directing a constant stream of water over the path, pressure washing the stone to smooth perfection.

  She noticed he wore sandals, the jerk.

  Her room did seem cleaner when they entered, though the smell was still there.

  Surge stared at her pool. “You drank your sleeping pool?”

  “I told you that,” she said querulously. “And I’m not sleeping in there. There are snakes.” She shuddered.

  “They’re your attendants, for your protection,” he said quietly, studying her as if she were utterly foreign. “Where did you sleep last night?” He looked around. “On the stone, it must have been.” The floor was stained with the peculiar oily water she bled, clear and thick. It had gotten all over the stone as she cleaned yesterday, and she’d scrubbed at it with the sea sponges, smearing it around, pretending it was real water as she’d cleaned the floor.

  The pity was back.

  She hunched her shoulders and avoided his eyes. “There was nowhere else. You don’t have beds.” Her lower lip actually quivered, and she dashed away a tear with the back of her wrist, trying not to be obvious. Her eyes were leaking, but she was NOT crying. Not in front of him. “You don’t have anything.”

 

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