by Ann Gimpel
“Look.” Recco’s voice broke into her replay of how closely they’d skirted disaster. He angled his gaze outward. Fins cut the surface where whales circled the ship. “It appears they’re not letting us out of their sight.”
“We’ve done all we can for now. You dying of hypothermia won’t alter the outcome.” Her words were sharper than she would have liked, but the aftermath of terror left her shaken. Whales circling the boat was disturbing. Maybe she was making too much of it. They might be anchoring Poseidon’s spell to keep the sea calmer.
“I already told Daide this,” Juan said as they passed him. “Stop by the galley and drink something hot. Then take a hot shower and get into warm clothes.”
“Thanks.” Recco slapped him across the back. “Not my first rodeo with hypothermia, amigo.”
Juan snorted. “It’s mine with magical talking sea creatures. My bondmate is thrilled. Me? I’m just in awe.”
“They’re beautiful, aren’t they?” Zoe glanced over the railing hoping for another glimpse of the dolphins and their aquatic ballet moves.
“And deadly.” Juan nailed her with his hazel eyes. “They’d have retaliated if Leif had died, wouldn’t they? My bondmate was quite clear in that regard.”
“Aye, they would have.” She nodded slowly.
Recco’s eyes widened. “Damn. Good thing that wasn’t spelled out. Double good my wolf kept quiet. Might have made Daide and me so nervous, we’d have decided the risk wasn’t worth it.”
“And then Leif would have died for sure,” Juan said. A corner of his mouth twisted downward. “Not today or next week, but soon. Sometimes you have to take risks. Get moving. Soup. Coffee. Shower.”
“Aye aye, captain, sir.” Recco rolled his eyes and walked through the nearest door with Zoe right behind him.
“How about this?” she suggested. “I’ll get a meal together for us, and you can run through the shower and meet me in the galley.”
“Sounds perfect. Teamwork at its finest.”
She patted his shoulder. The dry suit was still wet and clammy. “Nay. Teamwork was you and Karin and Daide.”
“I can’t speak for Karin, but Daide and I were shooting from the hip. Cowboy medicine. We should have run labs, taken the time to check the effect of the drug cocktail on Leif’s physiology.” He grimaced. “We tossed the dice and got lucky—barely. The dolphin who dragged Daide into the water had every justification to be angry with us.”
Zoe tilted her head to one side. “Since you brought it up, is punching your patients standard procedure?”
“Um, yeah, it is. When you deal with animals outweighing you by hundreds of pounds, you have to establish dominance. It’s something they understand.” He hurried on. “It’s not the same situation at all here, though. Daide could have talked with the dolphin, tried to reason with it. Instead, he reacted.”
“Naught to be done about it, and the dolphin did back off.”
“When its alpha ordered it to, although I have no idea how strict their social order is.”
She stepped away from the puddle his suit was making on the floor. “I don’t, either. Get moving.”
“Christ! You and Juan are worse than nagging parents. See you soon. Dinner’s almost as good as having you join me in the shower.” He winked, teasingly.
“With you half-dead from exposure? Nay. Once you’re clean and fed, we can address the nonessential items.”
“Love is never nonessential. Why the ancients lived on it. Look at their poetry. Their statues.”
Zoe laughed. “Don’t let our dinner get cold. I may begin without you if you’re not front and center when ’tis ready to serve.”
Blowing him a kiss, she spun and headed down one flight to the galley. She’d already thought about offering to shower with him, but he needed hot food and drink along with the shower. If she got into soaping his body, exploring every nook and crevice, he’d never make it to the dining room. At least not today. The hard truth was she needed sustenance as well. Her magical reservoir was dangerously low after Karin’s incursion into it.
Love. The laddie said love, her inner voice piped up.
Doona make over much of it, she answered back.
Still smiling, she strode into the galley and tossed canned and powdered ingredients into something palatable. Tuna, noodles, and milk turned out a reasonable casserole. She put a cup of freeze-dried vegetables in water to rehydrate. She’d add them to the casserole once she removed it from the oven. Cornbread and biscuits sat on the countertop from earlier in the day or maybe the day before. Heated and split, they’d make a decent base to spoon dinner over.
She’d just put the finishing touches on two plates when the galley door swung open, admitting a smiling Recco. His dark hair glistened wetly, and he’d combed it away from his face. He’d shaved and wore thick, gray sweats and Wellingtons. A waterproof parka and bibs were slung over one arm along with a life jacket.
Zoe cast a guilty glance at the pile of outerwear she’d offloaded as a hedge against the kitchen’s heat. “Do you suppose we should dress for dinner?” She arched a brow.
“Not necessarily. Mmmm. Smells wonderful.” He brandished a bottle from behind him. “Stopped by the bar on my way down here.”
“’Twasn’t precisely on your way,” she retorted. “You started on Deck Three. The bar is one floor up. Galley’s one floor down.”
“It was worth the trip. What’s dinner without wine?”
She wanted to skip dinner and throw herself into his arms. Instead, she addressed the clothes question. “Did you see anyone on the way down here? Were they still all duded up?”
“No. Didn’t see a soul, but nor did Viktor withdraw his orders about being fully dressed to move about the ship.”
Karin, a tired-looking Karin with deeper lines around her eyes and wet hair spilling down her back, joined them in the kitchen. Not only was she not sporting waterproofs, she didn’t even have them with her. “Thank the goddess you made dinner. I’m ready to pitch facedown on my bunk and sleep for days. There’s enough for two more, right?”
“Aye.” Zoe peered around Karin. “Who’s the fourth?”
“Bet it’s Daide,” Recco said and squeezed around Karin, probably to scan the dining room. “Yup. He staked out a table. I’ll bring those plates with me. And I’ll run down a corkscrew and glasses for the Bordeaux.” He draped his parka and bibs atop Zoe’s. “At least we’ll know where these are if the boat starts pitching again. And if Vik gets annoyed, he can throw the book at all four of us.”
“You’re a bad influence.” Zoe elbowed Karin and snatched two more plates from a cupboard.
Karin shrugged and went to work loading the plates with food. “So, shoot me. Sorry if I ruined your plans for a cozy, intimate meal.” She trained shrewd eyes on Zoe.
“It’s all right.” Zoe hugged the other Shifter. “We had a hell of a go out there. Probably, the best thing is for all of us to process it.”
“My thoughts, exactly.” Karin stepped out of Zoe’s hug and dug silverware from a drawer. “We haven’t seen the last of the sea Shifters. As Leif improves and isn’t fighting for every single breath, the others will want to be cured as well. We have to have a system in place that works better than what we did. There’s no way in hell we’ll be as lucky as we were with Leif. If he’d been an angstrom weaker, we’d have lost him for sure.”
“I know. I had a ringside seat. Remember?”
Karin narrowed her eyes. “Must have been hell for you to watch.”
“Och, sure and ’twas. I’ve never felt so helpless. I ached to do something with every iota of my being.”
“You did do something. I never could have managed without your magic.”
“At the time, it didn’t feel like I contributed much at all. I did see something interesting in Leif’s mind, though. Mayhap the reason he allowed us to experiment on him.”
“What was it?” Karin picked up the silverware and a plate. “I was far too occupied to split my
attention.”
“He believed he and his Shifters had been abandoned. ’Twas only recently Poseidon and Amphitrite showed up, and he harbors bitterness they didn’t come sooner. Before so many of his kinfolk died. Watching them suffer and wither and die must have cut deep.”
“I’m sure it did. As alpha, he carried a link to each member of his pod, which would have made the deaths much worse.”
“How come we’re not organized similarly?” Zoe asked.
“Long ago, we were. I’m not certain when we discarded the alpha structure. Or why, but I bet Juan’s cat would know. Grab your dinner, and let’s join the men. I’m sure they’ll be interested in what you just said.”
Zoe crossed the dining room, thankful the ship was still chugging along quietly. Extending the calming spell all the way to Siberia was unlikely—no one had that much power, not even the sea gods—but she’d take what she could get. Setting her plate down, she slid in next to Recco.
“Go ahead. Dig in,” she urged. “’Twill be best eaten hot.”
For a while no one said much. Zoe was hungrier than she’d realized, and after the first few bites, she scooped food into her mouth as fast as she could chew and swallow.
Karin took a brisk swig of wine, and then asked Zoe, “Did you pick up anything else from Leif’s mind?”
“Anything else besides what? I want to know,” Recco said.
During the meal, he’d edged closer until his thigh pressed against hers, and she appreciated his solid presence. “Basically, he believes Poseidon abandoned him and the other sea Shifters. He and Amphitrite only materialized after the Cataclysm receded, and Leif thinks it’s because they went to ground during the worst of things—to save their own hides.”
“Aren’t they immortal?” Daide asked.
“Supposedly,” Karin replied. “Who knows exactly how their immortality works.”
Zoe set her fork down and sipped her wine. “If Leif feels his Shifter pack—or pod—was forsaken, perhaps he’d be more willing to work with us to heal the schism between our two peoples.”
“Before we go there,” Daide said, “I owe all of you a major apology. The bunch in the sea are about as far from normal dolphins as we are from...from Vampires. I never should have taken even one shortcut, and I took several. We’re doing full lab work—as full as our limited resources allow—before we treat anyone else. If Recco hadn’t said something, I’d probably have injected a third ampoule and killed Leif. I didn’t notice how lethargic he’d grown.”
Recco nodded thoughtfully and drained his wineglass. “Off the top, I’d say half the amount of antibiotic—”
“With an antifungal and a steroid,” Karin cut in.
“And a staged approach,” Daide said. “So we don’t end up like today with boatloads of dead and dying parasites gumming up the works as they head for the exits.”
“Was that what they were doing?” Zoe asked.
“Yup. The prime directive for any species, and it includes parasitic ones, is survival. Those lungworms, and probably the trematodes too, although their egress is far less dramatic, recognized they’d been targeted.”
“How long can they survive outside a host?” Zoe glanced at the empty plates. “Shall I bring the casserole dish out? There’s some left.”
“Yes on the casserole,” Recco said.
“In terms of survival, some parasites go into long-term stasis between hosts,” Daide said. “But these varieties aren’t among them.”
Zoe hustled into the galley and returned with the casserole and a serving spoon.
“Feel like more wine?” Recco tapped the empty bottle with an index finger.
Zoe’s belly was full, and her head buzzed pleasantly. “If I were certain we wouldn’t be called back onto the front lines, I’d say sure, but—”
The dining room door swished open, admitting a man she didn’t recognize. Blue-gray hair fell to his knees, shrouding a tall, broad-shouldered body with pale skin. Eyes the shade of a restless ocean met hers, and Zoe knew who it had to be. She shot to her feet. “Leif. Please. Join us.”
He hesitated. “Do you have clothes I might borrow? I’m not cold, but I lived as a man long enough to know human customs.”
“Of course.” Daide stood. “Come with me. We’re about the same size, and I’ll get you set up.”
“Before you leave...” Zoe walked to him. “Do you eat as a human? If so, are you hungry?”
The corners of his unusual eyes crinkled at the corners. “Do you eat as a coyote?” When she nodded, he went on, “Then you have your answer. I’d be honored to share a meal with you.”
“I’ll heat it up a wee bit.”
“You needn’t bother on my account.”
Daide crooked a finger. “Come with me. You can catch me up on how you’re feeling.”
Zoe detoured through the galley to grab another plate and utensils before returning to the table. Karin blew out a noisy breath. “Nothing like laying eyes on someone I was worried about. He’ll be better than fine.”
Recco chuckled. “Knowing Daide, he’ll at least have a listen with his stethoscope. I’ll heat some water and make tea if we’re done with wine for now.”
Karin bent close to Zoe. “The dolphin is here to ask a boon.”
“My take too. Do you suppose ’tis a good time to make a pitch for unity? We’ll need all the good magic we can scare up once we get to Wrangel Island.”
“Let’s see what he has to say.” Karin pressed her mouth into a thin line. “I don’t want him to feel we’re taking advantage of him.”
“We’re not,” Zoe protested. “’Tis in everyone’s interest to close the gateway. So long as wickedness has an access point, we’re all at risk.”
“I was referring to his perception, not the reality of how bad things are.” Karin rubbed the bridge of her nose between a thumb and forefinger. “I swear, it’s grim enough I shy away from thinking about it most of the time.”
Daide and Leif walked into the dining room looking like twins in black fuzzy pants, stretchy long john tops, and insulated, brightly-colored jackets. Daide had a stethoscope looped around his neck, and he was smiling. And apologizing. Zoe caught the tail end of what was probably a much-longer conversation.
Recco brought a carafe of hot water to the table along with mugs and tea bags and sugar packets.
Leif broke into a grin. It lightened his somber expression and brought his defined cheekbones and square jaw to the foreground. “I adore tea. Most of my time in human form was spent in London.”
“How’d you end up here?” Zoe asked. Once he’d sat down, she poured hot water over a tea bag, and then dished up the remaining casserole, placing it in front of him.
“How else? We were trying to find a stretch of ocean that wouldn’t kill us on contact,” he replied between bites. “Thanks. This is good. Unfortunately, many from my group—most of us—died en route. We finally found an isolated pocket of water not far from Antarctica still capable of supporting life. Other sea Shifters weren’t so lucky. Many died in distant oceans. Whale song carries thousands of miles, and for years the songs have held nothing except sorrow.”
“Words are inadequate, but I’m so sorry,” Karin said. Reaching across the table, she patted his hand.
“Thank you.” Leif glanced up from his empty plate and inclined his head. He stirred sugar into his tea and drank deeply. “I am here on behalf of my lieges, Poseidon and Amphitrite, as well as my pod.”
Zoe buried surprise deep before Leif could pick up on it. Probably best if he didn’t know she’d mined secrets from him while he lay near death. Either he’d come to terms with his bitterness, or more likely he’d found a way to coexist with it.
“We’ll help any way we can,” Recco murmured.
“Yes,” Daide concurred. “Like I reassured you when we were in my cabin, we learned enough from working on you I’m certain treatment for your pod will proceed far more smoothly.”
Leif’s nostrils flared. “It would
have to since I almost died. I felt my spirit hovering, trying to break free from my body.” He eyed Karin. “You’re who kept me together.”
She nodded solemnly. “One of my better moments as a healer, but you had strength. If you hadn’t, all the doctoring in the world wouldn’t have mattered.”
“Does your offer to cure the rest of my pod still hold?” Leif’s gaze settled on each of them in turn.
“Of course,” Daide said. “Maybe we could tackle the rest of the dolphins first. We’ll need to do careful calculations for the whales.”
“Poseidon suggested holding off on the whales until we see the ship safe to Invercargill. They used to have a cetacean institute with specialized deep-water byways to treat larger marine mammals.”
“Perfect,” Recco smiled warmly. “By then, we should have the fine points worked out.”
“We offer safe passage to New Zealand’s South Island in return for—” Leif began.
“No need to bargain,” Karin broke in. “We’ll take care of you, regardless. One thing you will want to take back to your lieges and your pod, though, is this. We told Poseidon and Amphitrite we were on our way to the Arctic to do what we could to address a rent in the ether. It’s allowing evil access to Earth, and we must find a way to close it off.”
“We know about it,” Leif said. “The thing you call the Cataclysm ripped it open—and killed all the sea life between Wrangel Island and the thirtieth parallel.” Anger turned his gaze a deeper blue.
“Between here and northern waters,” Karin went on, “one of our primary tasks is to gather as many magic-wielders as we can.”
“If no one except yourselves signs up, will you still confront the darkness standing guard over the fissure?” Intensity shimmered around Leif, turning the air blue.
“Aye,” Zoe said. “We will do what we must. ’Twas our blood who started this.”
“And it’s our responsibility to end it,” Karin spoke firmly.
Leif finished his tea and set down his cup. “I can’t speak for any beyond myself, but I will stand with you.”
“Thank you,” Daide said. “After my blundering, we don’t deserve your loyalty.”
