Cursed Blade (Daughter of Air Book 2)
Page 7
Varun growled under his breath. Easy for Jackson—natural athlete that he was—to say. The fifty feet of sheer cliffs had not seemed particularly intimidating when he had been in the boat. It was a great deal more intimidating when he was actually on it.
Atlantis. Just remember…Atlantis.
He paused halfway and looked up the cliff face. Ashe and Jinn stared down at him. She sported a wide, unchecked grin—no doubt at his expense—but there was no spite in it, just amusement and the faintest hint of a challenge.
And she was stunning, radiant in a way he had not quite grasped before. She had always been attractive, and from certain angles, beautiful, but her irritable mood tended to keep the attention on her personality instead of her appearance.
Now amused and lighthearted, she was possibly the most stunning woman he had ever set eyes on. Her eyes were a deeper blue and green than her hair, but both symbolized her connection to the sea and to the sky. She was a creature of two domains, mistress of both water and air—
Jinn squawked, “Need help?” The gray African parrot fluttered down to him and pecked his ear lightly. “Dumbass.”
—and her parrot hated his guts.
He would have swatted the bird away if he were certain he would not have lost his grip. Ashe must have recalled the parrot, because Jinn returned to her shoulder and settled for mimicking Varun’s heaves of breath instead of nibbling on his ear.
She climbed the cliffs.
How hard could it be?
Varun scowled. But she cheated.
The thought was galling enough to spur him on. He pulled himself up several more feet, then found her hand extended down to him. Her fingertips were dusty and scraped. His eyes narrowed. Had Ashe actually climbed the cliff, and not just used her elemental powers to propel herself up them? She hadn’t cheated?
Varun gripped her hand and hauled himself over the top of the cliff. It took him a moment to wobble upright. His shoulders sagged, although his back was still knotted from tension and stress. His pulse continued to skitter like a nervous fawn.
Ashe, on the other hand, looked entirely relaxed and in control of the situation.
Varun shook his head. I really have to stop comparing myself to an air elemental. We’re not even the same damn species.
Deliberately turning his back on her, Varun squinted against the glare of the sun breaking over the tops of the trees and reflecting off the ruins of bright white columns and walls. “There really is a city here…”
Jinn huffed. Varun suspected Ashe was rolling her eyes, but not even her exasperation could get in the way of his wonder. He was vaguely aware that she was fiddling with the rope and pulling something up, but he was too distracted to pay attention to her. Instead, he ran his hand over a low wall fragment. “It’s not marble.” The rock was speckled with glittering dust, which accounted for its radiance in the sun. He turned to Ashe. “What is it?”
“Maybe I should have brought along a geologist instead of a marine biologist,” Ashe grumbled. She yanked hard on the rope and pulled one of the backpacks over the edge of the cliff. She untied the rope from around the bag and tossed the rope back down to Jackson.
Varun returned to her side. “Here. I’ve got the rest. Why don’t you—?” He glanced up sharply at a whooshing sound. A swirl of blue and green filled his vision as Ashe threw herself over him and slammed him to the ground.
A spear flew over their heads.
He caught the barest glimpse of it—gleaming metal from tip to shaft. Just like the spears of the Beltiamatu.
The spear soared over the edge of the cliff, then from down below, came a splash and Jackson’s curse. “What the hell was that?”
From the edge of the forest, a man appeared on the back of a beast that looked like a black panther, but larger, much larger. Varun did not realize he had taken a step—in fact, several steps—back until Ashe gripped his wrist to keep him from tumbling over the cliff.
“What’s happening up there?” Jackson shouted from the boat.
The stranger’s eyes narrowed. His skin, bronzed from the sun, had an oddly bluish cast that Varun suspected came from Beltiamatu blood instead of war paint. His hair was an undefinable color—a deep tint that was more dark blue than black. He shouted something. Varun did not understand any of it, but the tone needed no interpretation.
The man was furious.
Varun glanced at Ashe.
She did not look at him, but he heard her voice in his head. He’s probably speaking a derivative of Atlantean.
“You understand him, don’t you?”
Not really.
“Ashe…”
We share a root language, but even you know that language changes over time.
Ashe stepped forward, Jinn perched on her shoulder. The parrot squawked something.
Varun flicked a glance at the bird. How many languages did Jinn speak, anyway?
Probably as many as Ashe did.
“What did you say to him?” he asked as he returned his attention to the warrior.
Get out of my way.
Varun yanked his gaze off the strange warrior to stare at Ashe. “You didn’t, really.”
Of course I did.
He fought the need to roll his eyes. Why was he even surprised? It was Ashe. She did not take any nonsense from him. Why would she take it from anyone else?
The warrior’s upper lip pulled back, baring sharpened teeth. His shoulders rolled forward, his body and that of the panther beneath him coiling in prelude of a charge.
Varun had scarcely enough time to blink as the beast lunged forward.
Jinn took to the air in a flutter of gray feathers. “Incoming!”
Incoming?
Varun pushed Ashe behind him, and braced for the attack, but the creature’s charge suddenly rose into the air, as if racing up an invisible incline.
The panther’s eyes and the warrior’s eyes were equally wide. The man’s lower jaw dropped as he twisted around on his cat as if to see what was beneath him.
Nothing but a ramp of air.
At the top of the invisible ramp, at the edge of the cliff, the ramp vanished, but momentum was enough to send the panther and its rider in a high arc over the cliff.
The man screamed, arms and legs flailing, as man and beast fell from the air and hit the water.
Varun dashed to the edge of the cliff. “Jackson—”
“I got this.” The first mate held his gun ready, his attention fixed on the panther and the warrior as both surfaced. “Damn, that’s a big cat.”
The Atlantean warrior in the water started swimming to the boat as a cacophony of ululating cries rose from the forest.
Varun whipped around to face the newest threat as, far below, a bullet shot rang out. Jinn swooped past him, screeching Ashe’s orders. “Jackson, pull the boat away from the edge of the cliff.”
“Aye, captain.” Jackson gunned the motor, and the boat sped away from the islet, with Ondine huddled against the seat, hugging herself.
At least Ondine and Jackson were safely away, Varun grimaced.
Trees rustled. Shadows moved. Feline eyes glowed and spear tips glinted in patches of darkness. From the swish of motion all around him, he estimated somewhere between twenty to thirty Atlantean warriors. “What’s the plan, Ashe?” He glanced at her.
Her eyes were narrowed in a way he recognized all too well. Pissing off the natives wasn’t going to be the problem. Keeping Ashe from killing them all was the bigger issue. He fought to keep his voice calm; getting excited was only going to irritate Ashe further. “Try not to hurt them.”
Have you noticed that they’re the ones attacking us?
“Only because we landed on their island, and tossed one of their folks into the sea.” And Jackson probably shot him. “Ashe, look at them. Their skin, their hair coloration. They’re descended from the Beltiamatu.”
Of course they are. It doesn’t mean I have to like them.
“They’re defending what’s the
irs. That’s all these people are doing now, Ashe. We’re the invaders here.”
The soft rustle of the undergrowth expanded into a roar. The trees seemed to bend backward, releasing panthers and warriors from concealment. The Atlanteans leaped from shadow into light—too many of them moving too quickly to count. The warriors brandished their spears, bringing their weapons back over their shoulders.
All of them aimed at Varun.
Chapter 11
Varun counted at least ten spears pointed at him; that was nine more spears than he could possibly evade. He yanked his breath in sharply and took a large step away from Ashe. He could not risk a poorly aimed spear striking her by accident.
The breeze swirling around them strengthened into a gust. They’re between us and where we’re going. Ashe flung both of her arms out in front of her. The charging panthers and warriors tumbled sideways as a massive column of air plowed through their ranks. Go!
Varun grabbed his backpack and dashed forward, feeling like an Israelite racing through the Red Sea, a wall of water churning on either side. He caught glimpses of the warriors pressing up against the invisible wall of air, slamming fists and even their bodies against it in an attempt to break through.
The heat of the open cliff evaporated into the cool shadow of the forest. Voices, muffled by the barrier of air, howled at him, the tenor rising with fear and anger. The wind pushed hard against his back, as if trying to propel him faster. “Which way?” Varun tossed the question over his shoulder.
Ashe sprinted behind him. Jinn flew over Varun’s head, leading the way. The parrot squawked, “Don’t know. Never been here.”
“What are we looking for?”
“The entrance to the thirteenth tower—the heart of Atlantis.”
“The what?”
“Rumor among the Beltiamatu is that a part of it, including its aether well, survived the destruction of Atlantis. It’s what this islet is built around.”
“It’s a well? So it’s underneath us? How do we get there?”
“I don’t know. Will you stop asking me questions I don’t have answers for?”
What the hell was wrong with that woman? Varun jerked to a stop and spun around to glare at Ashe. There was no apparent sign of pursuit, but the yells from the natives did not seem any softer. Was the barrier of air shifting too, keeping pace with Ashe as she ran? What was the range of her elemental powers? He shook the distraction from his mind and refocused on the source of his irritation.
“Asking questions is the only way I know of to understand the situation. And asking you questions is worse than visiting the dentist every day for a year. You just dribble the facts out as if discussing yesterday’s weather, and you leave out all the important stuff.”
Ashe stalked up to him, her eyes narrowed into jeweled slits. She extended her arm, and Jinn fluttered down to land on her shoulder. The parrot fixed black, beady eyes on Varun. “I have left nothing out. You know more than any human does about Atlantis.”
“All right, then. So, what exactly is the aether well?”
“You humans might call it a power core. It contains aether. Energy.”
“What is aether?” Varun’s mind almost tripped over the litany of questions that followed. “What kind of energy?”
Ashe spread her hands and glared at him as if he were the class dunce. “From the stars, of course.”
“What do you mean ‘of course’?” Varun flung out his arm. “Who else on Earth uses energy from the stars?” He struggled to get a grip on his temper. Only Ashe could set him off like that. “All right. Tell me what you know. Maybe I can figure this out.” He glared at her. “Maybe logic can handle what all your dismissive hand-waving can’t.”
The corner of her mouth twitched, but no, he had to have imagined it. She could not possibly be laughing. There was absolutely nothing to laugh about.
“If it’s energy, it’s got to follow the laws of energy conservation, right? We’d be looking for heat. Light. A vent of some sort.” His eyes widened as he was suddenly lifted off the ground and carried above the tree line. His pulse fluttered like a hummingbird’s wings, and the tight ball of panic in his chest expanded until it blocked his airway.
Varun clenched his hands into fists. Even so, they trembled.
He tried not to stare at the emptiness beneath his feet. Instead, he raised his gaze. From that height, he could see the Veritas in the distance, beyond the sea wall of rocks. Headed toward it was the smaller speedboat. Willpower kept Varun’s voice steady, barely. “Ondine’s probably flipping out right now,” he told Ashe, who hovered beside him. “Poor Jackson. Ondine’s shrill when she’s upset.”
Jinn squawked and spread his wings before taking off from Ashe’s shoulder. The parrot circled over Ashe and Varun before flying toward the speedboat. He’ll be back after he gives Jackson his orders. Ashe’s words directly touched his mind.
“And what orders are those, exactly?”
Maintain enough of a distance and a threatening presence to keep the Atlanteans focused on them.
“Are you sure the Atlanteans won’t come after us anyway?” Talking helped him pretend everything was fine, that he wasn’t several hundred feet up in the air with nothing but the will of a Daughter of Air holding him up. “They did see us run into the forest.”
They’re trusting their forest to take care of intruders.
“What do you mean?”
I’ve sprung several dozen traps along the way. Nets. Spikes. Darts. Nothing particularly sophisticated.
He had no doubt the traps would have been dangerous regardless. Ashe had saved his skin again. It was getting to be a habit, and the ledger keeping track of who owed the other was significantly skewed against him. How was a human supposed to keep up on reciprocal life-saving with a Daughter of Air?
Perhaps he wasn’t even meant to try.
But it was hard to not attempt to protect her, even if the action was both ridiculous and pointless.
Varun swept his gaze over the islet. Scarcely more than three miles across, it was heavily forested except for a thin edge along the entire perimeter. Through the thick foliage, he caught teasing glimpses of white, glitter-infused stone. Something drifted over the trees. He pointed at the scarcely visible wisp of gray. “Do you see that?”
She nodded. Let’s go.
The wind strengthened around him and tugged at his clothes.
“Whoa, whoa.” Varun clutched at Ashe’s shoulders and squeezed his eyes closed. As long as he did not look down—
Are you…afraid of heights?
Ashe sounded incredulous. He hoped she was not laughing at him, at least not too hard.
He drew a deep breath. “No, I’m not.” Damn it, his voice still sounded like a squeak. “I’m not afraid of heights. I’m just afraid of falling from heights.”
I’m not going to let you fall.
Probably best not to mention how she had flung Beltiamatu warriors into the ocean, or sent an Atlantean hurtling through the air. She was probably working her way up to a human. Wait—she had already flung him into the water, although she had also fished him out.
Not fair—a part of his mind shrieked at him. Weren’t they on the same side?
Not really—a cacophony of voices in his mind screamed at each other. She had stolen his journal and refused to give it back to him. She had accused him of being a self-interested bastard who would sacrifice anything in pursuit of scholarly fame.
She had almost killed him with that damned, cursed dagger.
How did that constitute being on the same side of anything?
They weren’t.
But she had opened, for him, the door to an ancient, lost civilization, and she was the key to saving the ocean. He needed her, and if it meant taking the risk—
He just had to keep calm and play along. Willpower steadied his voice. “Put me down. Please.”
It’s faster through the air. Safer, too.
“It’s a mile away. It’s going to be all
right.”
Fine. Her huff sounded annoyed, but he heard an undertone of laughter in her voice.
The air around him shifted, but he did not open his eyes until he felt solid ground beneath his feet. His eyes flashed open, and he found her directly in front of him, their faces less than an inch apart.
Her eyes—swirling green and blue, with golden flecks like sunlight on the water—were as eternal and endless as the sea. His question popped out unchecked. “Why do they do that?”
Do what?
He jolted from the intimacy of hearing her voice in his mind. Perhaps it was because he was staring into her eyes at the same time. Perhaps, for the first time, she seemed young and innocent, like the Little Mermaid from the fairy tale. “Your eyes. The color keeps changing.”
A mood ring.
He blinked. “What?”
A mood ring. You humans have that, right?
“Well, yes…” But that was the last thing he expected her to say. “You mean it tells your mood?”
Her eyes narrowed until she looked like Ashe again—irritable and powerful. No, of course it doesn’t. They’re just eyes.
“There isn’t just anything about you, Ashe.” Then his jaw dropped. “Were you trying to make a joke—about the mood ring?”
She flicked her wrist at him and turned away.
He grabbed her arm. “Wait, that was a joke, and now you’re furious that I didn’t get it.”
Ashe shook his hand off. That wasn’t anything.
“So why are you grumpy?”
She spun around and stalked up to him so that their noses were practically touching. I am always grumpy.
Varun’s heart thudded. He hoped she could not hear it. “Don’t be,” he murmured. “You miss out on a great deal of life if you’re grumpy all the time.”
Something brushed against his cheek. It could not possibly be her breath—she did not breathe, right?
Don’t move.
“What?”
I said don’t move.
Movement shifted in his peripheral vision. Something thin and black extended past his cheek. The branch-like thing was covered with little spikes and ended in a sharp hook.