by Tracy Deebs
Page 67
Even worse, Sabyn actually started healing the wounds I’d inflicted on him, slowly closing them up until nothing was left but a couple livid red scars across his chest. I didn’t even know how it was possible—he was a merman, not a selkie, and merpeople normally didn’t heal anywhere near that fast. I should know.
Frightened, confused, and more desperate than I wanted to admit—even to myself—I sent a blast of energy straight at him, but my brain was so scrambled that I couldn’t find much power to put behind it. Sabyn deflected it easily and lobbed back one of his own that had me ducking and moving for cover.
I wasn’t very fast, as I was still carrying Mahina. Turning my body so that any blast from Sabyn would hit me and not her, I tried to dive behind one of the huge storage containers that stood at the end of each of the machinery aisles. But even as I tried to get to safety, I knew there wasn’t much shot of me making it.
Still, I had to try. I shifted to the left one second before a blast of energy whooshed past me and slammed into the wall just to my right. I knew I had only seconds before he came at me with another shot, and not knowing what else to do, I dived for cover. It was a gamble—for long seconds I was completely exposed—but running around waiting to get hit was easily as dangerous.
I braced myself for impact, either from the ground or from a fireball from Sabyn, but it never happened—instead, Mahina leaped back into action. Pushing herself off my shoulder, she twisted around and lobbed a grenade straight at Sabyn.
We didn’t bother sticking around to see how he was going to handle this latest attack.
Instead, I course-corrected and we careened off the front wall before I dived for the door—determined to get out of the engine room before the grenade exploded. I was thrilled Mahina was okay and didn’t want anything to change that—especially not a grenade of her own making.
We made it, with about three seconds to spare. And then I was barreling down the hallway, my brain functioning a million times better now that the horrific noise had stopped.
Put me down, Mahina hissed, but I ignored her. Out here, where I wasn’t trying to avoid a million different pipes and gauges, it was a lot easier to carry her—plus I wasn’t sure she’d even be able to swim or shift.
I was more powerful in my human form, but I definitely wasn’t faster, so we hit the narrow, circular stairs at the end of the hall only seconds before a volley of spears flew down the hallway. They slammed into the wall directly above where we’d been floating. Since I was sure there were more where those had come from, I didn’t bother for a look at our newest attackers. Instead, I took the remainder of the stairs three at a time and then ducked into the first available doorway.
I was expecting the worst, and from the way Mahina had tensed against me I knew she was too. But there was no one in the room, thank God. After double bolting the door—hooray for military ships—I slowly set Mahina on the ground.
It’s about time, she said grumpily. I was beginning to feel like a two-year-old.
Would you rather I’d left you back there?
No. She paused, then grudgingly added, Thanks for the rescue.
I think that should be my line. I eyed her cautiously. How are you feeling?
I’m fine. She pushed herself up, swam a little. I’ve just got a hell of a headache, thanks to psycho-merman.
You probably have a concussion. I looked around the room for the first time. It was completely empty except for a few chairs knocked over on their sides. But there was another staircase built into the wall opposite us. It was leading down. I stared at it for a minute, calculating, then turned to Mahina.
How far from the bottom of the ship do you think we are? I asked.
Judging from the lack of windows in any of these rooms, not far. Plus the engine room is usually pretty low down. Why?
I nodded at the staircase, saw understanding dawn. What room do you think this is?
She shook her head. It’s hard to tell without any of the original contents, but I wouldn’t be surprised if it had been some kind of storage room.
Which would what? Make the cargo hold below this?
I don’t know. Maybe. She sighed heavily. You’re going to make me go down those steps, aren’t you?
No. But I’m going. You can come or stay here alone …
She beat me to the first stair. You go first this time. I’ve had enough violence to last me a lifetime.
So had I, but I was smart enough to know there was much more to come—and it didn’t matter what order we took down the stairs. Still, after everything she’d done to help me, I was plenty willing to take the first hit here. It was what I had always planned on anyway, before Mahina had suddenly decided to play hero.
I moved down the stairs cautiously. My balance was a little off—a result, I think, of whatever damage had been done to my ears. But sounds were so distorted in the water normally that it was hard to tell if my hearing was okay or not.
I braced myself, almost expecting to find Tiamat at the bottom, waiting to blast me into next week. And if not her, at least some of her bunyip and shark-men. But there was no one, nothing—except for another staircase.
I was shaking now—a combination of adrenaline and fear rocketing through me so fast that it was difficult to stand, let alone swim. Still, I crossed the room and headed down this staircase as well.
Kona, I called as I hit the first step. Can you hear me?
Oh my God, Tempest, you’re alive. What the hell were all those explosions? He sounded as shaky as I felt. He also sounded close. Really close.
I started slowly down the staircase. Do you know where Tiamat is?
She’s here, with me.
Sabyn? I took another step.
I haven’t seen him in a while. Where are you?
On the stairs. Four more steps and I was about a third of the way down the staircase. As I made the first turn, I realized it wasn’t pitch black down there like it had been in the other two rooms—instead I could see a few glowing lights in different colors.
Silver, red, a muddy green.
I froze, trying to figure out what to do next. I think I’ve found you.
Tempest, go back. There’s no way you’ll survive—she knows you’re here and she’s got a perfect shot at the staircase from where she’s standing.
I can’t leave you.
Yes, you can. You have to.
Stop whining, Mahina cut in, and think of some way to distract the sea witch from hell, will you please? We just need a second.
Which was why she was the genius in this equation—or at least I thought so until I saw the last grenade was clutched in her hand.
Don’t throw that! I squealed.
Yeah, because I’m going to risk killing the loves of your life, she told me privately. What the hell did we do all this for if I was going to just fry them in the end?
Exactly what I’d been thinking.
I braced myself for Tiamat’s attack, but before I could take another step, I heard Kona. Not on our private channel but on one that anyone—even Tiamat—could hear.
Give it up, Tiamat. If you’re still here by the time Tempest finds me, she’ll kill you.
So, you’re awake, dear boy. I was wondering when you were going to join us. A ripple of waves flowed past us as she moved. And I think you’re giving your girlfriend a little too much credit.
Really? If you’re not afraid to fight Tempest, why did you bring so many reinforcements? You must know you can’t beat her.
